Pairing: Joe Burrow x Reader
Description: This fic covers the week 5 lead-up and win against the Cardinals.
Time/Place: Monday, Oct. 2, 2023 - Sunday, Oct. 8, 2023 / Cincinnati, Ohio & Glendale, Arizona
A/N: This is the fourth fic in the Hard Reset series.
Since we have a secret wedding coming up in the next chapter, I decided to use the bye week lakehouse idea from my Sink or Swim fic for the honeymoon location. I'll copy & paste the relevant bit here in case you haven't read it or to refresh your memory:
~ ~ This took place just before training camp in mid-July ~ ~
"Remember when we went to that party at the lake last summer? There was that cool lakehouse that we drove by a couple times when we got lost looking for the party?"
You furrow your brow as you try to think back, your face lighting up when the memory clicks into place. "The tall, narrow three-story house with the rooftop deck?"
"Yep," he grins, opening a tab on his computer and swiveling it to show you the screen. "It's called 'The Crows' Nest' and it's an Airbnb."
"No way." You lean closer for a better look. "It's even more awesome than I remember."
"I booked it for three nights during our bye week."
"Shut up!" you squeal, slapping Joe's arm as he looks simultaneously stoked and smug.
"I hope three nights is enough," he says nervously. "I thought about doing four, but . . ."
"Three nights is plenty," you interject. "If I remember correctly, it's about an hour and a half drive. We'll have an amazing getaway and be back in plenty of time for you to prep for the 49ers game the following week."
"I love that you already know my schedule."
"Front, back, side to side, Mr. Burrow," you purr, giving him a saucy wink.
All of that set-up is because the upcoming lakehouse honeymoon is mentioned in this chapter, so let's get to it . . .
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
You wake up to an empty bed, a satisfied smile gracing your lips as you think about the toe-curling sex you had with your man the night before. You slip out of bed, checking the clock before heading into the bathroom to pee and wash your face.
You eventually walk down the hallway and check Joe's office before heading downstairs, a little surprised that he's nowhere to be found since it's still pretty early, your eyebrows rising when you see a note on the kitchen counter. You pick it up and read it out loud.
"Couldn't sleep so decided to head to the facility to get an early start on work-out - treatment - film. I'll be late getting home tonight since a group of us are watching MNF at Sam's. Love, Joe."
You toss the note down and get your coffee started, a little surprised he's skipping his standing video game session with his high school friends. They play almost every Monday for a few hours until Monday Night Football kicks off at 8:15 pm. Some weeks they play even longer, especially if the MNF match-up isn't very sexy. Usually the only reason he skips it during the season is if he's playing football on Monday (in which case they postpone it to Tuesday) or if he's in a stank mood because he played bad the day before.
Your mind flashes back to yesterday's 27-3 loss to the Titans. "Stank mood for sure," you mumble to yourself, yawning as you add a glug of creamer to your coffee before heading upstairs to your office.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Tuesday, 10/3/23
You wake up to an empty bed again, your brow furrowing as you go through your morning routine before heading down the hall to Joe's office, a smile curling your lips when you hear football noises coming from inside.
"Hey babe," you greet, dropping a kiss on his neck as he hits pause on the game film he's watching. "Hey," he echoes, swiveling his desk chair around to face you. "Sorry I got home so late last night."
"It's okay. Did y'all enjoy the game?" you ask, brushing your fingers through his messy hair a few times to try and tame his rampant bedhead.
"Not really," he grumbles. "We kinda half-ass watched it while talking about what we need to do to get better." He makes a pensive face before giving you a big grin. "Oh yeah, check this out," he says, grabbing his phone and pulling something up before handing it to you. The vid features Ja'Marr and Tee arm wrestling on Sam's kitchen island while several other guys holler encouragement. The vid cuts out just after Ja'Marr wins.
"Y'all got a little bored last night, huh?" you laugh, handing him his phone back.
"Well, it all started when Ja'Marr made a comment about Tee not being as fast as him, so Tee was like 'yeah, but I'm stronger' so of course they had to arm wrestle."
"Of course," you agree. "Was Tee mad when Ja'Marr beat him?"
"A little," Joe shrugs, "but then he was like 'whatever, at least my dick's bigger'."
"Please tell me there's not a dick measuring vid," you mutter.
He gives you a cheeky wink before scrolling his phone like he's looking for said vid.
"Joseph!" you swat his arm. "I don't want to see it!"
He laughs at your scandalized expression before setting his phone on his desk. "Relax, babe, there's no dick measuring vid. At least not on my phone."
"Y'all are too much," you giggle, rolling your eyes playfully. "Everything's a damn competition."
"Wanna know who won?" he asks.
"No!" you chirp, sticking your tongue out when he chortles at your obvious discomfort. "You want some breakfast?" you ask, changing the subject before he decides to give you the unwanted dick report.
"Nah, I'll just grab something at the facility." He checks the time before wrinkling his nose. "I better get going. Lot of stuff to do today."
You lean down and give him a kiss before heading for the door. "I'm gonna get a shower. Have a good day."
"You too," he says, giving you a smile before turning his attention back to his computer.
You head downstairs about thirty minutes later, narrowing your eyes as you see another note on the kitchen counter; you snatch it up and read it.
"I'll prob be late again tonight since we're talking about new offensive schemes (thank fuck!) Lots of film to watch & I'll just grab dinner at the facility with the guys. Call me if you need me. Love, Joe."
"Could have told me that to my face," you grump, chewing on your lip and trying not to get too aggravated; he always spends extra time at the facility when shit's going sideways, so this is nothing new. It feels a little weird, though. Like he's avoiding you for some reason. "Don't overthink it," you warn yourself. "He's struggling and trying to figure his shit out. Don't make it about you."
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Wednesday, 10/4/23
"Okay, fuck this," you mutter as you once again wake up to an empty bed. You heard him come in last night but pretended to be asleep since you were tired, aggravated and didn't feel like talking, but you def feel like talking now.
You snatch your phone off the bedside table and hurry down the hall to make sure he's not in his office before heading downstairs, your eyes rolling when you spot another damn note on the counter; you heave a sigh as you start to read.
"Sorry I got home late again. Big day today installing the new offense! I'm feeling optimistic for a change. Hate to say it, but I'll be late again. Going to Sam's tonight for pizza and film watching. Love, Joe."
"Shit," you grumble as you set your phone on the kitchen counter. "Can't unleash hell on Mr. Feeling Optimistic," you mutter under your breath, trying and failing to push aside the uneasy feeling the situation's giving you. You roll your shoulders as you wait for your coffee to brew. "He hasn't technically done anything wrong," you state, still trying to convince yourself. "The last thing I want to do is make him feel bad for doing his job."
You spend the next several hours doing your (mostly) normal routine:
a harder than normal work-out to relieve some stress
a couple hours of work followed by a virtual meeting to tie up some loose ends on a work project
a few chores and then some errands including a final stop to grab some Kung Pao chicken from your fav family-owned restaurant before heading home
You change into slinky shorts and a t-shirt as soon as you get home before pouring a glass of wine and tucking into your spicy dinner.
An hour later you're tidying up the kitchen when your phone rings; your brow furrows as you check the display before answering. "Hey Sam. What's up?"
"No. I thought he was eating pizza and watching film tonight at your place."
"Umm, yeah, I left the gym a few minutes before him and we were supposed to meet at my house, but I got a low air pressure warning on one of my tires and stopped to air it up. First place I stopped was out of service so I had to go to another gas station. Took almost thirty extra minutes and when I got home he wasn't there. I tried calling him, but it went straight to voicemail. I waited an hour and tried calling again but the same thing happened."
"That's weird," you mutter, your pulse immediately picking up. "Hopefully he didn't have a wreck or something."
"Oh, I'm sure it's not that," Sam mumbles.
"Well, let me know if you hear from him."
You end the call and immediately try Joe's phone, a knot forming in your stomach when it goes straight to voicemail. You open your fav traffic app and chew on your lip as you look for accidents in the area he was traveling. "Nothing," you mutter, feeling slightly better until another hour passes without hearing from him.
You try his phone again, your heart thudding in your chest when it goes straight to voicemail. "Where are you?" you whisper, pacing back and forth as you try to decide what to do.
You wait thirty more minutes and are just about to call the nearest emergency room -- after Sam texts you asking if you've heard from Joe yet -- when you hear the garage door open, a flood of relief washing over you when he ambles in the door looking slightly disheveled. The odd look on his face makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up; you decide to play it cool.
"Hey," you say, giving him a smile. "How was practice? Did y'all install the new offense?"
"Yeah. Still have a lot of work to do, but I think we're headed in the right direction."
"Good." Your eyes drop down to his long fingers fiddling with his wristbands before you recapture his gaze. "How was the pizza at Sam's?"
"Fine," he shrugs, looking at his feet. "Nothing special."
You feel a wave of nausea hit at his obvious lie. Please let me hold down this Kung Pao, you think to yourself before speaking. "Sam called me several hours ago asking if I knew where you were. He had to stop and air up a tire, and you weren't at his house when he got there. He tried calling you but your phone was off." The color drains from his face as you continue. "Then he texted me a few minutes ago asking if I ever heard from you, so I know you haven't been with him."
He shifts his weight from one foot to the other but doesn't speak.
"You wanna tell me why you just lied to my face?"
"It's not what you think," he mutters, his prominent Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he swallows hard.
The action draws your gaze down to his throat for a few seconds before it shifts back up to his face; you become very aware of his facial hair, a thought flashing through your mind that it's a damn shame you're mad at him since you love to feel his scruff against your skin.
A darker thought creeps into your head when you consider the fact that he just lied to you about being with Sam. Is someone else enjoying the feel of that scruff? you muse to yourself, your stomach turning at the thought of him cheating on you.
You spin around and sprint down the hallway, barely making it to the guest bathroom in time to slam the door and fling the toilet seat up before emptying the contents of your stomach into the bowl. You spit a few times as you gasp for breath, eventually flushing the toilet and walking on trembling legs to the sink to rinse your mouth a few times and splash water on your flushed face. You pat dry with a hand towel and open the door, rushing forward two steps before crashing into a large, immovable object. Joe wraps his hands around your upper arms to steady you, his expression hard to read as you wrench yourself out of his grasp and step back.
He heaves a sigh before speaking. "We were supposed to meet at Sam's, but when he didn't show up for like twenty minutes I decided to take a drive to clear my head. I couldn't get my thoughts to stop racing," he continues with a shrug. "Thinking about how bad I've been playing, wondering if the new offensive scheme will help. I just needed a distraction."
"What's her name?" you snap.
"The distraction. What's her name?"
"It's not like that," he soothes, reaching for you as you step farther out of reach.
"Then how is it?" you challenge. "You were out of contact for several hours with your phone turned off. That's not just a drive to clear your fucking head!"
He hesitates for a second and you spin around and stride for the stairs, launching yourself up them two at a time before heading through the master bedroom and into the bathroom, quickly brushing your teeth before hurrying into your walk-in closet.
You wrangle a suitcase into the middle of the closet floor and start flinging clothes inside with the same vigor that Joe uses when spiking a football after scoring a tuddy. You punctuate each motion with a curse word, your entire body shaking.
Eventually you become aware of the fact that he's standing in the doorway watching you; you give him a glare before continuing to pack.
"This is just a huge misunderstanding," he states, fiddling with his wristbands like his life depends on it.
"Obvs," you sneer. "I clearly misunderstood the nature of this relationship. Who could blame me, though?" you ask, plowing ahead before he has a chance to interject. "You've never given me a reason not to trust you. Plus you've been oh so vulnerable with me lately -- worried I'm gonna leave you, desperate to hurry up and get secretly married to put your mind at ease." You swallow hard around the lump in your throat, grateful that you're too stunned to cry. If I start crying, I may never stop, you think to yourself.
You stop packing long enough to lock eyes with him. "Meanwhile you're out doing God knows what with God knows who and lying straight to my face about it."
"I can explain everything," he urges. "I'm just trying not to spoil a surprise I set up for you."
"Surprise! I'm a lying asshole!" you chirp, giving a derisive snort before a petty idea hits you. If he wants to watch me pack, let's give him something to see. You walk deeper into the closet and start easing short, slinky cocktail dresses off of their padded hangers, folding them delicately before laying them almost reverently in your suitcase. You pull open a few drawers on your lingerie chest and scoop out copious handfuls of lacy, barely-there wisps of fabric in the form of bras, panties, teddys, thigh-high stockings and a few other naughty confections, smirking at his worried expression as you place the items in your suitcase.
"Where are you going?" he asks.
"Where have you been?" you counter, crossing your arms in a defensive posture, your substantial engagement ring catching your eye when the overhead light glints off of it. "Oh … here … you can have this back," you mumble, sliding the ring off and handing it to him.
"What? No way!" he sputters, gently pushing your hand back toward you. "Jesus, I've fucked this up so bad it's not even funny," he grits out. "I seem to fuck everything up these days."
He takes a deep breath and stares at the ceiling for several seconds before looking at you. "Will you please put your ring back on? I promise I'm about to tell you everything you want to know, but I can't think straight when you're not wearing your ring."
Something in his tone -- a pleading vibe -- makes you do as he asks.
"Thank you," he rasps, clearing his throat before holding a hand out to you. "Let's go sit down and I'll explain everything."
You stare at his hand for several seconds before placing your hand in it, your eyebrows climbing upward when he lets out the breath he was holding. He's shook, you think to yourself, hoping he has a damn good explanation for lying to you.
He leads you to the sitting area in your bedroom, gesturing for you to sit in one armchair before dropping into the other, his fingers immediately fiddling with his wristbands as he starts to speak.
"Okay … so … you know the lakehouse we're going to during bye week?"
"Yeah," you answer, your mind conjuring up an image of the cool, modern three-story house that you've been looking forward to staying in ever since Joe booked it back before training camp started. Back then it was just going to be a quick getaway during bye week, but it's morphed into your (first) honeymoon destination since y'all are getting secretly married just before you leave for the lake.
"Remember when I showed you the pics on the Airbnb site and you said -- if you were doing the decorating -- you'd arrange the furniture different in the master bedroom?"
"Yeah," you answer, thinking about the master suite that takes up the entire top floor of the house; one of its coolest features is an oversized skylight situated just above a sitting area. You mentioned it would be cooler to position the bed under the skylight so you could look up at the night sky while lying in bed.
"Well, I got in touch with the homeowner, Mr. Thompson, and asked him if I could switch the sitting area and bed for our stay." Your eyes go wide as he continues. "I told him I'd handle it, I just needed someone to let me and Sam in."
"We're not going for two more weeks, though," you mumble suspiciously.
"True," he agrees, "and I figured I'd go Monday the 16th -- the day before we arrive for our stay -- but Mr. Thompson said I could go anytime since no one else is staying there between now and then."
"Mmm-hmm. So Mr. Thompson gave me the caretaker's number so I could set up a time for me and Sam to move the furniture."
If this is a lie, it's elaborate as fuck, you think to yourself as Joe continues.
"Max, the caretaker, agreed to meet me today. It's about an hour and a half drive, and I had just enough time to get there when I said I'd be there, so I left without Sam."
"Did you try calling Sam before you left?"
"No. To be honest I was a little aggravated." He shrugs before continuing. "He knew I was antsy to get on the road, and I felt like he was drag-assing."
"So you turned your phone off to teach him a lesson?"
"Maybe," he grins, having the decency to look a little sheepish about it.
"QB1 behavior," you mutter. "By the way, you better send him a quick text to let him know you're alive."
He does your bidding, and your gaze is drawn to his sexy hands as he types the text; you squeeze your eyes shut as a thought hits you. "Since Sam didn't go, who helped you move the furniture?"
"Max plus a couple of guys he brought with him. That king-sized bed is heavy as fuck so I was grateful he brought some extra muscle." He sees your skeptical expression and starts scrolling through his phone. "I'll show you the texts where we set it up," he offers, turning his phone where you can read it. "Here's the text from Mr. Thompson giving me Max's number. -- And here's where I texted Max to set up a time to meet. -- And here's his reply …"
You feel a flood of relief as you read the texts, your eyes meeting Joe's over the top of the phone for a split second before you break down crying; you drop your head into your hands as the sobs escalate, his concerned voice seemingly coming from a great distance even though his mouth is close to your ear.
"I can have Max send me footage from the security cams," he states. "The entire outer perimeter is covered so you'll be able to see me drive up and meet him and the other guys."
"That's not necessary," you wheeze, trying hard to draw breath and stem the steady flow of tears. "I believe you."
"Then why are you crying?" he asks, a slight tremble in his voice giving away his raw emotional state.
"Because I'm so relieved," you sniff, wiping your eyes before meeting his gaze. "I thought you were cheating on meeeee," you wail, your voice trailing off into sobs again as he stands up and scoops you up bridal-style; he drops into your chair with you sitting crossways in his lap, his deep voice like a balm to your frazzled nerves as he does his best to soothe you.
"I'm so sorry, baby," he whispers. "I would never cheat on you, okay? I was trying to set up a fun surprise for you, but I'm too much of a dumbass to get it right."
"You're not a dumbass," you sniffle, smiling as he wipes your tears away before dropping a kiss on each of your flushed cheeks. "It's not your fault that one of Sam's tires needed air."
"Yeah, this is all Sam's fault, the fucker," he grumbles, laughing along with you for a minute before turning serious. "You're shaking really bad," he states, running his hands up and down your arms. "Are you cold?"
"A little, but I think it's mostly a st…stress reaction," you stammer."
"Shit," he sighs. "I can't believe I did this to you."
"It's okay," you whisper. "You didn't mean to."
He drops a kiss on your forehead before standing up and setting you back in the chair, quickly grabbing a plush throw blanket off the foot of the bed and tucking it around you. "Sit tight for a sec. I'm gonna run a hot bath."
You nod your head as he turns and heads toward the bathroom, taking several slow, deep breaths to try and relax before he reappears. "Bath's ready," he states, gently pulling the blanket off of you before picking you up to carry you to the bathroom.
Five minutes later you're both immersed in the oversized tub, with him behind you and your back leaning against his chest. He runs his big hands up and down your arms, trying to chase away the chill bumps as you flutter your eyes closed and try to relax.
You spend the next fifteen minutes enjoying the feel of him rubbing your arms, your shoulders, and your thighs. "That feels good," you groan, the tension leaving your body with every stroke of his talented hands.
"Good." He drops a kiss on your neck. "Just relax."
"Sorry your surprise got ruined," you sigh, leaning your head to the side as he drops another kiss on your neck. "I think it's super sweet you went to so much trouble to surprise me," you continue, reaching a hand down to squeeze one of his thighs. "Can't wait to sleep with you under that huge skylight."
"It's gonna be amazing," he murmurs, his hot breath and scruff against your ear causing a shiver to run through you. "Still cold?" he asks. "No," you whisper, maneuvering around until you're facing him. His gaze is drawn down to your bare breasts just visible above the water. "You sure you're not cold?" he asks again. "You're chill bumpy, shivery, and … this," he breathes, ghosting his hot, wet fingers over your hard nipples, his eyes meeting yours when you give a soft moan and lean into his touch. "I'm the opposite of cold," you admit, gasping when he wraps his hands around your waist and slides you onto his lap, his mouth immediately capturing yours in a slow-burn kiss. His tongue tangles with yours for several minutes before he pulls back. "Let's go to bed," he orders, helping you out of the tub before stepping out behind you.
You quickly dry off and head into the bedroom, folding the covers down to the foot of the bed as your entire body hums with anticipation. "Y/n?" Joe calls from the bathroom. "Come here, please."
You walk back in the bathroom, an inquisitive look on your face as he gestures toward the open closet door; you turn your head to see what he's pointing at, a hot flush rising in your cheeks at the sight of your suitcase overflowing with lingerie. The sound of his voice pulls your attention back to him.
"Who were you gonna wear all that stuff for?" he asks, the edge in his tone sending a shiver down your spine.
"Nobody," you shrug, closing the distance between you and tilting your head up to look at him. "I thought you were cheating on me so I decided to make you a little jealous."
"A little jealous?" he snorts. "Just the thought of another man looking at you makes me insanely jealous." He wraps his hands around your waist as he continues. "The thought of another man touching you makes me homicidal."
"You threatening to kill me?" you tease, trying to lighten the mood.
"No, I'm threatening to kill him," he states matter-of-factly.
"You have nothing to worry about as long as you don't cheat on me."
"Promise?" he asks, the hint of vulnerability in his tone a complete contrast to the possessive anger of a few seconds ago. You wrap a hand behind his nape and pull him down until his face is about an inch from yours. "I promise," you whisper, pressing a kiss on his full lips. "You're the only man I want."
He pulls back and stares down at you, his demeanor shifting from vulnerable back to possessive. Provocative. You lick your lips as his hands tighten on your waist, opening your mouth to speak just as his mouth crashes down on yours. The kiss is intense, no teasing just taking, his need to possess you crystal clear as he slides his hands down to your ass and lifts you up, carrying you to bed while stating his intentions.
"I'm gonna lick you until you beg for my cock," he growls, the vibration of his deep voice in your ear causing a flood of liquid heat in your core. "Then I'm gonna fuck you senseless."
You're so drunk with lust that you can't form a coherent response. Instead you shove a hand in his hair as he eases you onto the bed, his eyes capturing yours for a few breathless seconds before he maneuvers his way down your body to make good on his carnal promise.
The next hour passes by like a fever dream, with him devouring you with a ferocity that has your body responding in kind, meeting his intense need with your own as you lose yourself in the feel of his hands and mouth on you, the hot velvet caress of his tongue bringing you to climax twice before he sinks his thick cock inside your tight heat. He rides you hard as he nips and sucks your neck and breasts, leaving love bites as you rake your fingernails up his muscular back, his first climax hitting just before your third.
He eventually pulls out and rolls off of you with a primal groan, your mutual heavy breathing the only sound for the next several minutes before you turn your head and give him a smile. "That was amazing," you pant, your eyes going wide as he rolls you onto your stomach.
"I'm not finished with you yet," he purrs in your ear, crawling between your spread thighs and biting the nape of your neck as he enters you from behind.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Thursday, 10/5/23
You wake up before Joe the next morning, stretching your deliciously sore, nude body beneath the slinky sheets before turning to look at him; he's sleeping peacefully, his pretty pink lips showing a hint of a smile as if he's enjoying a nice dream.
Last night felt like a dream, you think to yourself as you ease out of bed and head to the bathroom. The stomach-turning angst when you thought he was cheating, followed by intense relief and mind-blowing sex, was enough to give you an insane case of emotional whiplash.
"Crazy shit," you mumble to yourself, shaking your head at your reflection before turning on the faucet to wash your face.
You're patting your face dry when Joe walks in, giving you a smile before yawning and raking his long fingers through his messy hair. "Good morning, gorgeous," he greets as he walks up behind you, leaning down to press a kiss on your shoulder before meeting your eyes in the mirror.
"Good morning, gorgeous," you echo, biting your lip as the heat radiating off of his nude body causes your core to contract. Jesus, I'll never get enough of him, you think to yourself. "I'm gonna have to wear a turtleneck for my virtual meeting today," you state, pointing at the mark on your neck.
"Did I get a little overzealous marking my territory last night?" he asks, dropping a kiss on the love bite, the tip of his tongue darting out to give it a quick lick.
"Just the right amount of zealous," you giggle, watching his expression in the mirror as he notices the marks on your breasts.
"Do they hurt?" he murmurs, sliding his fingertips over the love bites plus the rug burn caused by his scruff.
"No," you breathe. "They just feel a little warm and tingly."
"Mmm-hmm," you hum, mesmerized by the sight of his big, strong hands delicately caressing your breasts, a gasp escaping your lips when he ghosts his fingertips over your hard nipples.
"Are you sore?" he asks, his voice husky with arousal as he slides a hand down to cup your mound, his erection thickening and lengthening against you.
"A little," you admit, "but it's a good kind of sore."
"Stop me if it's too much, okay?"
You both watch in the mirror as he dips one long finger inside your slick heat before pulling it back out, spreading the moisture over your sensitive folds as you grind back against him; he repeats the sensual action several times, his eyes dark with arousal as you bend over and press your forearms against the marble counter, rising up onto your tiptoes as he continues to tease you.
You arch your back in invitation as he lazily circles your swollen clit with slippery fingers. "I need you inside me," you whisper, your pulse picking up as he grabs his erection with his free hand and nestles the tip against your entrance; he meets your eyes in the mirror before slowly pushing inside, hissing in pleasure as your walls clench around him.
"I'll never get enough of you," he growls as he starts to thrust.
An hour and a half later -- after a couple of orgasms, a shared shower and a quick breakfast -- you give him a kiss before he heads for the door.
"I'll be home for dinner," he calls over his shoulder.
Your mouth drops open in exaggerated surprise. "No way!" you tease. "I was starting to think we'd never have dinner together again."
He spins around and walks back to you, cradling your face in his hands before speaking. "I know I've been gone a lot this week, but trying to figure shit out plus installing the new offense has been pretty intense."
"Not to mention sneaking off to upgrade our secret honeymoon love nest."
"That too," he chuckles, leaning down to press a kiss on your lips. "I can't wait for the bye week."
"Me neither," you purr, giving his plump butt a squeeze before he heads for the door.
Later that night -- after dinner, a couple episodes of Forensic Files, and some less-intense-but-no-less-satisfying sex -- y'all are lying in bed talking about the upcoming game in Arizona.
"If we lose," Joe says, making a face at the awful thought. "I only want to see you in the family & friends area after the game. My parents can wait for you outside, then y'all can ride to the airport together."
"Because your mom will get her feelings hurt. She's already a little upset that you're not meeting us after losses, but if you meet me and not them, she's gonna be seriously upset."
"Then she shouldn't be so extra with the praise every time I lose. It's fucking annoying."
"You're her baby," you soothe, pressing a kiss on his pouty lips. "She's always gonna try to make you feel better."
"If I play like shit, I don't want to feel better."
You sigh at the grumpy look on his pretty face. "Tell you what. If she starts in on the praise, I'll step in and gently shut it down."
"Really?" he asks, giving you a skeptical look.
"Really," you answer. "I'll just steer the convo in a different direction. I've done it a few times with her, and it's worked pretty well."
"You do have the magic touch when it comes to handling her like that. You're way better than me at it."
"Because I use a little finesse instead of coming at her like a wrecking ball," you tease.
"I have no patience for finesse when I'm pissed off."
"I know," you chuckle. "That's what you have me for."
He rolls onto his side and pulls you against him, your back to his chest. "We make a good team," he states, dropping a kiss on your shoulder.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Sunday, 10/8/23
You stand against the wall in the large room designated for family & friends of the visiting team at State Farm stadium in Glendale, Arizona, the thrill of victory putting a huge smile on your face as you wait for Joe to appear.
The game had been the Joe & Ja'Marr show, with Joe throwing for 317 yards, and Ja'Marr catching 15 passes for 192 yards and 3 touchdowns. The almost-telepathic connection between the two of them was on full display as they led the Bengals to a 34-20 win over the Cardinals.
An excited buzz flows through the room as Joe walks in; he ignores the attention as he quickly strides up to you. "Hey," he greets you, leaning down to drop a kiss on your lips before pulling you into a tight hug. "Hey," you breathe against his sweaty neck, tempted to lick him but restraining yourself due to the crowd of people watching you, including his parents.
There's a wicked grin on his face when he steps back, like he read your mind. Speaking of telepathic, you think to yourself, giving him a discreet wink as his parents step forward to greet him.
A minute later he turns his attention back to you, leaning down to press his lips close to your ear. "See you at home," he whispers, the four words so full of heat that you feel a blush rise in your cheeks as he turns and heads for the door.
A little while later, as you're sitting in the airport waiting to catch your flight home, your phone rings. Your pulse picks up when you see who's calling.
"Hey gorgeous," you greet.
"Hey gorgeous," Joe responds. "Are my parents right there?"
"No. They went to find a bathroom before we board."
"You need to get some sleep on the plane," he says, his voice dropping an octave like it always does when he's thinking naughty thoughts. "I've got plans for you when I get home."
"Can't wait," you purr before a thought hits you. "Your parents are spending the night, so we'll have to be somewhat quiet."
"So we'll have mind-blowing, hair-pulling, screaming-orgasm sex minus the screaming."
"Sounds good," you whisper, your eyes going wide when you see Joe's parents headed your way. "Your parents are back."
"I can't wait to see you."
"Me too," you mutter, smiling at Robin as she sits beside you.
"Can't wait to get you naked," Joe growls. "I'm gonna …"
You loudly clear your throat when you notice Robin looking at you. "I better go; we're about to start boarding."
Joe's dirty chuckle brings a hot blush to your cheeks. "Love you, babe," he states.
"Love you, too," you whisper before ending the call.
"You look a little flushed," Robin says, pressing a hand against your forehead. "Do you think you're coming down with something?"
Just the hots for your sex god son, you think to yourself, giving her a smile before answering. "I feel fine. I think the excitement of the win is just now catching up with me."
"That's probably it," she agrees. "Nothing a good night's sleep won't cure."
"Speaking of that," she continues. "Since we're getting back so late, let's push brunch tomorrow back a couple hours. That way you kids can get plenty of sleep. Does that sound good?"
"Yes, ma'am," you agree. "I know Joe is gonna be super tired when he gets home."
"For sure," she nods. "He'll be so tired he can barely walk."
He'll be even more tired when I get through with him, you think to yourself, standing up and grabbing your bag when they call your flight.
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