Climb on My Stepfather (Ashley and Alex) novel Chapter 87

19: Gage.

Five Years Later Belting my robe, I walk to the bedroom window and look down at the circular driveway, grimacing when a man holding a leather briefcase climbs out of an SUV.

I am not happy about this.

I hate interviews and I don't like people in my house around my wife and kids.

I give enough energy out on the field, there is no reason journalists have to come snooping in my business when I'm off the clock. Unfortunately, Stella and I are constantly hounded by news people who want an exclusive story from us. Not about football. About our relationship. It has become a source of fascination among the public and the interest is not going away. No, it’s at a fever pitch now. Stella thinks if we lay all of our cards on the table and give an exclusive to Vanity Fair, they'll stop calling and making their endless requests. More importantly, the paparazzi will stop following my Stella everywhere she goes.

My hand turns into a fist on the windowsill.

Last week, she was so blinded by flashes, she almost crashed her car leaving the parking lot at the university where she teaches. I thought security was airtight, but these vermin keep finding a way back in. They keep finding a way to harass my girl.

Mine.

I close my eyes and breathe through the wave of possessiveness, counting to ten like I practiced with Stella. When we were first married five years ago, I would have punched through this window during bouts of greediness where Stella is concerned. Once our son and daughter were born, though, I had to start working on controlling the emotions Stella inspires in me. They're still razor sharp and raw, but I’m not quite as destructive. Progress.

Sensing movement behind me, I turn to find the object of my obsession coming out of our walk-in closet, humming absently and putting on an earring. Oh my God, is she ever beautiful. She’s wearing a new dress. A silk one. Blue. It hugs her all over, especially in the ass.

Mine.

The center of my chest twists into a knot, my abdomen knitting together in anticipation of fucking. Christ, I am dying for a lick of her little wet pussy. She always begs for a rough pound after I’ve been feasting between her legs and that’s exactly what I'm in the mood for. A good, sweaty bang, Stella’s legs trembling around my waist, titties bouncing for Daddy.

God yes.

I start to unbelt my robe, but she catches sight of me and tilts her head. “Is that what you’re wearing for the interview? It starts in two minutes.”

A growl works its way free of my throat. “It's our goddamn house. I'll wear my damn robe if I want to.”

She's battling a smile. “Okay.”

“I'm not annoyed at you,” I say quickly. “It’s all for them.”

“I know.”

“They hound you, honey.”

Here I go. I have to sit down on the edge of the bed and count to ten again. It helps when Stella comes over and combs her fingers through my hair, counting with me.

When we moved to Green Bay after the NFL draft, we were shocked to find the public's fascination with our relationship had been growing since our days in college. Apparently there was footage floating around the internet of me walking out of the building after passing my Western Civilization test and throwing Stella over my shoulder. It had gone viral on TikTok.

Overnight, there were several Instagram accounts dedicated to us—and the interest didn't end when we transferred Stella to her new school so she could continue to study, earn her degree and the scrutiny blew up my first year in the league. I was the hot new rookie on a winning streak and Stella was the pregnant, nineteen-year-old beauty watching from the glass box, high above the stadium, her heart in her eyes. My jersey wrapped around her. Ten security guards positioned on all sides—a requirement of my contract.

It's hard to blame people for being fascinated. Love this powerful isn't typical.