His Tight End

“True, but I do now. Unless you just want to go back to our seats,” I reply, lifting my skirt as I do.

“You know I don’t.”

“Good,” I say, pulling my panties down my thighs. He takes them from my hands and puts them in his jacket pocket.

“Bad girl,” he says, lifting me onto the counter.

“Very bad girl,” I reply.

Before we can say anything else, he’s inside me, and my legs are wrapped around his waist, where they belong.

“Let’s have another baby,” he says, surprising me. Our oldest is twenty-five, and our youngest is sixteen.

“I’m too old,” I say, laughing.

“Bullshit,” he growls.

“We’ll just have to see what happens. Now move,” I demand, and he does so.

Over and over, he doesn’t stop. He never stops. Every day since we met, he’s shown me what love is, and I’ve returned that more than I ever thought possible.

The life we’ve built together is more than I ever dreamed I would have. I made history as the first professional football player, but I certainly wasn’t the last. I found the love of my life who helped me every step of the way. He is my rock, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

I know the rest of our lives will be even better than the ones we’ve already spent together.