“What about when we have kids? You won’t want to work then, will you?” I cringe at the way I’ve worded this and the resulting change in Violet’s posture. She goes stiff, and not in a good way.

“Whoa. We’re not even married yet; why are we talking about kids? And what’s with the plural? There’s nothing wrong with being an only child.”

“We can talk about that later.” I can only imagine how big her boobs are going to be when she’s pregnant. I’m so fucking excited for that: her boobs, us getting married, her having my babies. I bring her hand to my lips and kiss her knuckles. “It’s not a bad thing that I want to be with you as much as I can, is it?”

“Wanting to spend time with me is different than wanting me to quit my job.”

“But if you don’t have to worry about a job, we’ll see more of each other. It’s not like I can’t afford to take care of you. Besides, you put in all those hours, and for what? Less than a hundred grand a year.”

She snatches her hand away, her lips pressing into a thin line. “I get that you make way more money than me, but it doesn’t negate my need to have a purpose beyond being your fiancée. If you weren’t raking in the millions, my salary would actually be really good. Great even.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it that way.” I drag a palm over my face. “I just—I’m home for less than a week, and then I’m away again, and you’re going to be working for the next four days. It doesn’t leave me with much.”

Violet adjusts her towel and rests her hand over my heart. “What would I do with all my free time if I quit my job, Alex?”

“Come to the away games.”

“On the bus with you and the team? Am I going to fly everywhere? What about practices and training sessions? Will I go to those, too, or am I going to sit in a hotel room? No wait, I’ll spend every day at a spa, getting treatments so I look twenty-three forever.”

“Some of the other wives—”

“I can’t spend my time waiting for you to come back from games or practices. Be reasonable. That’s not a life.”

She has a point. Violet isn’t the kind of woman who would enjoy the endless pampering. She’ll do it on occasion, but it’s not something I can see her wanting to get used to. She struggles enough with the few grand I put in her account every month.

This conversation isn’t going the way I want. I take the brush she’s still holding and tuck it under my arm. Then I take her hand and play with her engagement ring. The one I gave her back in August.

We still haven’t set a date. Weddings stress Violet out. She’s started getting hives whenever we talk about it. Apparently she had a terrible experience with her mom’s wedding—she was just a teenager—and she hasn’t gotten over it. I’ve asked about it, but she’s vague with her explanation.

“I don’t like being away from you,” I tell her. “The away games are hard. I miss you.”

“I miss you, too, but that doesn’t mean I should quit my job any more than you should quit yours.” She raises a brow, like she’s waiting for me to stick my foot in my mouth again.

The difference between our annual salaries is astronomical, but I keep that to myself since I don’t want to shovel my own grave. And I do understand, and appreciate, her need for a purpose, even if I’m being a self-centered dick about it. “I feel like I don’t get enough time with you.”

“We’ll get used to it. It’ll be off-season before we know it, and then you’ll be home all the time, and I’ll be driving you crazy.”

“You won’t drive me crazy.”

“We haven’t been living together that long, Alex. Just you wait.”

“Maybe when my games are in Chicago you could see about working from home once in a while? Do you think your boss would go for something like that?” I peek up at her.

“I can talk to him,” she says after a moment.

“Okay.” I run my nose along her shoulder to her neck, then follow with my lips.

“I need to get ready for work,” she says softly.

“I’ll give you one quick orgasm.”

“It’s already seven-thirty.”

“I’ll be superfast.” I mash my hard-on against her stomach. “I don’t want to wait all day to get rid of this.”

“I’m going to be late as it is, Alex.”

I kiss her bare shoulder, nipping. “So be a few minutes later.”

She stops me before I can tug her towel free. “I have a client meeting first thing this morning. I can’t be later.”

“They’ll wait.”

“They shouldn’t have to. It’s unprofessional.” She’s snappy again. “Can we wait until I get home tonight? I’m not really in the mood anyway.”

Tags: Helena Hunting Pucked Erotic
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