(Mark is a beautiful old man, but also a giant NERD and I fucking love it. Whenever I’m sad I just watch these two videos of him: https://www.nhl.com/video/cribs---mark-streit/t-277517954/c-41929803 and http://thehappiestsloth.tumblr.com/post/147621342389/rowanhaldeman-these-guys-are-bunch-of-fucking)

Sirens were going off and someone was taking a baseball bat to Mark’s head.

Oh, wait no, it was just his hangover throbbing every nerve in his skull. And the siren was the phone. He blindly groped towards the nightstand until his hand eventually landed on the handset.

He managed to get the phone against his ear and mumble, “Yeah?”

“Good morning, Mr. Streit. You ordered a wake up call for nine a.m.”

That didn’t sound like something he would do. He was on vacation and planned to sleep until noon as many days as he could swing it. “I did?”

“Yes, sir, last night when you stopped by the front desk.You indicated that you planned to take your wife to brunch.Shall I make a reservation for you somewhere, or are you all set?”

Mark finally opened his eyes, albeit slowly. The sun was too bright and cheerful through his window, causing him to squint as he tried to quiet the pounding headache and understand what this woman was saying.

“Are you sure you have the right room? I don’t have a wife.”

“I have the right room, perhaps you’d like to discuss your relationship with the young lady who accompanied you last night before I book a reservation for brunch.”

“What are you talking about? I didn’t –“

Mark stopped short when he turned onto his back and noticed, for the first time that morning, that he was not alone in bed. There was in fact a young lady in bed with him, a pretty one at that. That was when Mark remembered running into Ghost and Gudas at the MGM last night.

But his teammates hadn't been alone, Shayne’s younger sister was with them. Sarah. Now he remembered. She was a mirror image of Shayne, tall, dark hair, dark eyes, great smile, and a bubbly attitude.

Oh, fuck.

“Mr. Streit, is there anything else I can do for you?”

“No, you’ve done enough.”

He hung up and then flung himself out of bed, shocked to find himself naked. He searched for his boxers and the noise woke up his bed mate as she sat up and gasped.

Mark, his bottom half now partially covered with his boxers stood with his arms crossed. “Uh, hi.”

“Hello.”

It was terrible of him, but Mark couldn’t help but notice that she looked even prettier now than she had last night. She sat up in bed, holding the white sheet against her chest and attempted to smooth down her wild hair that was going in every direction.

Finally she gave up on her hair and cleared her throat, asking rather calmly, “What are you doing in my hotel room, Mark?”

“Actually…you’re in my room.”

She looked around and noticed that he was right. Shit.What the hell had happened last night and why did her head feel like a ton of bricks had been dropped on it? She remembered playing blackjack at the MGM with her brother and Gudas. She remembered Mark showing up and meeting him for the first time. She remembered drinks at the MGM and then more drinks at Little Darlings, a strip club she and Mark ended up at. After that, things were still fuzzy in her mind.

She asked, “What happened last night?”

“I’m not quite sure. I’m still piecing it together.”

Sarah nodded in agreement. She couldn’t blame him for not knowing, but she would like to know why they were both naked and sharing a bed. She closed her eyes to focus.

“We left the MGM and went to that club, right?”

Mark’s whole body felt hot with shame. That’s right, Mark, the complete and utter ass, had taken his teammate’s baby sister to a fully nude strip club, simply because she had asked him to. Apparently, she’d never been to one and was looking to maximize her Vegas night life experience.

“Yeah. We left Shayne and Gudas at the MGM…and went there.”

Sarah nodded again. “Right. Right. And then…”

“I think –"

“What?”

Mark was stunned speechless yet again when he noticed the ring finger on her left hand. He practically lunged towards her, grabbing her hand and staring at it with an open mouth.

There, around her finger, was his ring. A simple silver band his mother had given him when he was drafted. It was too big on her finger, but it was on there nonetheless.

He dropped her hand and groaned. “Oh, God. This can’t be happening.”

“What? Wait, whose ring is that?”

“It’s mine. At least it was last night. This can’t be happening. I cannot have done this. There’s no way.”

“Mark, what happened?”

He met her eyes and saw that she really didn’t know. Had no clue how badly they had both fucked this up.

“Sarah, I’m pretty sure that last night…we got married.”

“What?!”

When Sarah leapt out of bed, Mark tumbled off the other side as she pulled the sheet out from under him to wrap around herself. She looked at the ring, then at Mark. And then she remembered, the images were blurry, but they came back to her. The late night visit to the tacky Elvis chapel on the strip, drunkenly saying her vows, taking his ring, kissing him in front of the fountain show at the Bellagio, and thinking that it was the most magical night of her entire life.

In the morning light, she knew she should be regretting it, the way he clearly he was. But honestly, the more she recollected the events, the more those feelings of fun and freedom that Mark inspired came rushing back.

Shayne and Gudas had brought her along with them to Vegas only because she begged and pleaded and promised not to bother them too much. But as soon as Mark had showed up, he had treated her like a grown up, not some little kid who was just tagging along. He had taken her to the bar and taught how to order a real drink. He took her to a nudie bar and instructed her on the proper way to tip strippers. And, apparently, he had taken her offer of marriage seriously.

She smiled now. “That’s right.I proposed to you.”

“Right after you told me I was the most fun person you’d ever met.”

“Well, it’s true.”

They shared a grin until Mark snapped out of it. Now was not the time to reminisce about their drunken confessions. They needed to sort this out. Sure, they had had plenty of fun the night before, but there some serious issues to address.

“Sarah, no offense, but we need to figure out what’s happening.”

“I think it’s pretty obvious don’t you? We were joined in holy matrimony last night.” When he looked sick with worry, Sarah added, “Don’t worry, we didn’t consummate the marriage.”

This came as news to Mark, especially considering they were both naked. “We didn’t?”

Sarah shook her head firmly. “No.That much I do know.”

“But…how? How do you know?”

She smirked at him and adjusted the sheet against her body. “Trust me, sweetheart, that is something a woman knows.”

While Mark was partially convinced, he also took the moment to remind himself that Sarah was barely a woman. On the right side of legal by just a few years. She must be at least twenty-one since she could drink legally, but good Lord, she looked so much younger than that.

“Christ.”

“What now?”

“I just realized…I’m like…fuck, practically twenty years older than you. And I…we obviously did something last night after we…”

“Got married, yeah. I assume we did.”

She looked at him with those big brown eyes and he felt like a pile of shit. She was just so young, so sweet, so innocent. And he knew that he had not only gotten her drunk, enabling her bad behavior, but he had also kissed her, in the very least on the mouth. He closed his eyes, head pounding and then it came back to him.

They had stumbled towards the elevators after stopping by the front desk to order his wake up call, Sarah yelling to those passing by that they needed to call her Mrs. Streit from now on. He winced at the memory, but the next clear image wasn’t any better for his mental health.

He saw it all over again. Sarah. On his bed. Giggling and yanking her dress off. Mark on his knees. Tickling her behind the knees and then sloppily kissing her thighs. Then he was taking off her thong, sighing into her pussy before taking a taste of her sweetness. Considering how quiet Ghost was most of the time Mark remembered being surprised that his sister was a screamer.

Holy fuck.

So, he thought to himself, to recap: not only had he married a barely legal girl, one young enough to be his daughter, but she was also the sister of his teammate. The younger sister of his even younger teammate.

Goddamn everything all the way to hell and back.

After that, all he remembered was falling into bed with her, spooning against her back and passing out. He opened his eyes and found Sarah still looking at him, her own knowledge about last night written across her face. But unlike Mark, she was smiling.

“Sarah, I apologize for everything that I did last night.”

Her smile fell slightly. “Okay…”

“You should get dressed. We need to go see whoever we see about an annulment.”

Sarah fully frowned now, looking away from Mark and nodding slowly. “I see. Right. Because obviously you don’t want to be married…to me.”

She stood, turning away from Mark and dropping the sheet. He didn’t want to look, but she was his wife after all. At least for the next few hours. A feeble excuse, but he was a weak man, he would acknowledge that much. Her dark hair fell like a silky curtain down her back. And her body, heaven help him, it was beautiful. Soft curves and long legs, an ass that made his cock ache and skin that looked softer than silk.

He cleared his throat in attempt to refocus the head he should be thinking with. “You don’t want to be married to me either, Sarah. Trust me.”

She had her bra and panties on when she turned to face him. “Why not?”

“What do you mean why not? We don’t even know each other. We literally met last night. You don’t know anything about me.”

Sarah would admit that part of that was true, they had only met last night. Truthfully though, she had been harboring a little crush on Mark for months, ever since Shayne had established himself in the Flyers’ D corps and Sarah had familiarized herself with the roster. And why wouldn’t she be attracted to him? He was cute, strong, and infinitely more mature than the college-aged dude-bros who normally tried to hook up with her. Maybe she had only just met him, but she really liked him already.

She shrugged and smiled again. “We could get to know each other.”

Mark shook himself off, because he was obviously misunderstanding her here. “Wait. Are you trying to say that you want to stay married to me?”

She wouldn’t meet his eyes, but just picked up her dress and pulled it on as she told him, “Well, I’m just saying…we’re already married. I just don’t see the harm in giving it a shot.”

“Sarah. Look at me.” She did and he came closer, but not close enough to touch. “I’m an old man. You have your whole life in front of you. We had fun last night, but you have to know that I’m not the man for you. You know that, right?”

“No, I don’t. I know that you’re a good man, a sweet man, a man who made me feel beautiful and special just by spending a few hours with me. I’m not saying I’m in love with you, but I like you, Mark. And I also know that if we…don’t go see somebody today, then the worst thing that could happen is it doesn’t work out and then we can get a divorce.”

She closed the space between them, putting her hand on his bare shoulder. When he didn’t back up or brush her off, she cradled his hip with her other hand. She said softly, “I’m just saying, what’s the rush? Let’s take a few days, see what happens.”

He was starting to see her logic, at least his cock was, which meant it was definitely a terrible idea. And yet, he didn’t push her away, didn’t ask that she stop touching him.

“You’re Ghost’s sister.”

“Who cares?”

She kissed his neck softly and Mark closed his eyes, trying hard to remain in control and failing.

“You’re young.Too young for me.”

Her mouth was on his collarbones and then his chest.Her whispered answer came out as puffs of breath against his skin. “Doesn’t that turn you on?Just a little?”

It should not turn him on, that much he knew. But she kept kissing him, running her tongue around his flat nipple and stroking his back with her hands. And finally he had to admit the truth. He was not just an old man, but a dirty old man apparently, because he wanted her.

“Yeah, it does.Sarah…”

“Kiss me.”

He didn’t kiss her, but finally found the strength to pull away from her embrace, remove her mouth from his skin. His body hated him, but he had to be rational.

“I really don’t think I should do that. I can’t be married to you. I’m sorry, but I just can’t. We don’t know each other, you’re my friend’s sister, and on top of all those reasons, I am way too old for you.”

The sadness in her eyes nearly made him change his mind. But she gave him a half smile and nodded again. “Alright.”She turned, searching for her purse. “I need a shower. Should we meet somewhere to…do whatever?”

“Sarah –"

“It’s okay, Mark. I understand. But I need to go, so just call me when you know who we have to talk to undo this.”

She left without looking back at him, which was probably for the best. Because if he had seen the tears forming in her eyes he definitely would have pulled her back into the room.

Sarah did her walk of shame back to her hotel, complete with many tears. It was a stupid thing to cry over, really. Childish, in fact. But she couldn't help it, it hurt that he didn’t want her. Didn’t even want to sleep with her once before they went their separate ways. Maybe he had been acting like a gentleman, but she really wished he hadn’t.

She was decidedly not in love with the man so soon, but she wouldn’t have minded at least spending a little more time together. The night before had been incredible, and not because she married a stranger. Mark was sweet and genuinely hilarious. Conversation between them had been easy, natural. Fun. They had just had fun together. And Sarah wasn’t going to feel guilty about asking for more of it. She just wanted to have a meal, talk, enjoy each other's company when they were both sober and thinking clearly.

In any event, that wasn’t going to happen. So, Sarah went back to her hotel. And waited for his call.

It never came, because Mark didn’t have her phone number. By the time he realized that fact, she was already gone. He didn’t know where she was staying and he really didn’t want to ask Shayne for her number lest his friend ask far too many questions. By the time Sarah realized he wasn’t calling because he didn’t have her number (not, as she hoped, because he had changed his mind) it was already night again. Rather than go out, she curled up in bed, her appetite for fun effectively squashed.

Mark spent the last few days of his vacation in Vegas not gambling, not going to shows, not hanging out by the pool, but sitting in his hotel room. Brooding.

He should have called Shayne and told him what happened: explain, apologize, beg forgiveness for being an ass and then get Sarah's phone number so they could fix this before they left. But he just couldn’t bring himself to do it. He told himself it was because he was afraid of facing up to his actions, but that wasn’t true.

He was afraid of hurting Sarah again. Christ knows that everything he had said to her was true. They were strangers, he was almost forty and she was in her very early twenties. She was also Ghost’s sister. They had gotten married after knowing each other less than twelve hours. Even though he liked her, more than he should, there was no way it could work.

But he kept thinking about the way her face fell, how that all too serious look didn’t fit her all. He hadn’t known her long, but he knew that she should always be smiling, laughing…kissing him sweetly while she did it.

Mark was so screwed up about this that by the time he got home to Switzerland where he spent the summer, all his plans for action fell by the way side. Days turned into weeks, turned in months until it was October again.

He flew back to Philadelphia to start training camp and he was still mulling over him and Sarah, Sarah and him. He should have called her, he knew that. But sometimes you wait so long that by the time you work up the nerve it’s way too late so you just end up putting it off for even longer. He hadn’t meant to ignore her all summer, but he certainly did. That’s not to say that she wasn’t on his mind, because she certainly was.

When he got back to his apartment in Philly, he went to check his mailbox, which was normally empty when he returned in the fall. On this occasion, however, there was a fat manila envelope post marked in July. He ripped it open in the elevator and read the first page.

Petition for Divorce; Sarah Gostisbehere vs. Mark Streit.

“Shit.”

For some reason, he was not excepting this. He probably should have, but the idiot was still caught off guard. He flipped through the packet.Sarah had cited the old faithful excuse of irreconcilable differences. She had insisted on no settlement, no alimony, nothing.Just a divorce.

This was what he wanted. This was what he told her needed to happen. And he was still disgusted by it. The papers were dated the Monday after he knew she returned home from Vegas. Clearly she hadn’t wasted anytime.

But could he blame her? He hadn’t called, hadn’t gone to see her .And then he had gone straight to Switzerland so he didn’t even see the divorce papers until months later. She must really hate him now, thinking that he was ignoring her on purpose. He went back to his apartment long enough to grab his coat and then he went out, divorce papers in hand.

Sarah was in her kitchen, stirring sugar into a cup of tea. She had been doing quite well, she thought, not thinking of Mark at all. Until today, when Shayne called to chat about training camp. She didn’t ask about Mark, obviously. But she had wanted to. She wanted to know why he had insisted they end their sham of a marriage and then refused to sign the divorce papers she sent him.

She spoke with her attorney weekly who told her the same thing, until Mark signed them, there was nothing more for them to do. So Sarah had kept waiting. For weeks, and then months. Waiting for him to do something, say something, send the papers back. Anything. She stirred her tea a little too aggressively and it splashed over the edge of the mug.

“Damn.”

How could he just leave her in limbo like this? Granted she didn’t know him well, but he didn’t seem like the sort of man who would be this rude. It was infuriating. If he wanted to end this marriage, all he had to do was sign. What was he waiting for?

A knock on her door interrupted her train of thought and she pulled it open without checking the peephole. When she saw Mark standing there, she nearly slammed the door in his face. As it was, she raised an eyebrow at him and said nothing.

For a long moment, Mark didn't say anything either. God, she looked good. Beautiful and fiery as ever. He had planned to say so many things, but now, all he could manage was her name.

“Sarah.”

She glowered at him and he didn’t look away, accepting the full brunt of her silence. Finally, she took a deep breath and said, “How dare you?”

“What?”

She said again, more firmly, “How dare you do this to me? You ignore me for months –“

“I was out of the country.”

“And then you just show up here –“

“Sarah –“

“No. You don’t get to interrupt me. I’ve been waiting a long time to tell you off.”

Mark bit his lip to quell a smile. Anger just didn’t suit her and it came off more adorable than harsh. “Okay, darling. Go for it.”

“You’re an asshole.”

“I know.”

That was about as far as she ever got in her daydreams about seeing him again. Now that he was here, looking so damn sexy and apologetic, she wasn’t as angry as she thought she was.

She asked softly, “Why didn’t you call?”

“I didn’t have your number. And I didn’t want to ask your brother for it.”

“Were you really out of the country?”

“Yes, I go home every summer.”

“Oh.” With a little shyness over the fact that she didn’t know and a slight smile she asked, “Where’s home?”

“Switzerland. I just got back today.”

“How did you get to Boston today then?”

“I drove.”

“You what?”

“I got your papers, saw that they showed your address, and I drove straight here.”

“Oh. Why?”

Mark pushed the door open and kissed her. It has been so long since he had seen her and the only times he had kissed her on their wedding night they had both been drunk beyond comprehension. But somehow, she was just as he remembered, sweet and bubbly.

Although this time, not at first. At first she put a hand on his abs to push him away, but then changed her mind. When he bit her bottom lip, she opened her mouth to gasp and he slipped his tongue inside. She hummed around him then, pulling him close and opening herself up to his kiss.

He made his way into her apartment, backing her up and kicking the door closed as he went. He kissed her deeply and passionately, trying to say everything his mouth and brain couldn’t communicate. She seemed to understand and her response was equally as ardent. Her moans were like a balm to his soul and he knew he had been a fool to wait so long. He should have called Shayne the day after their wedding, told him everything and gotten in touch with Sarah. He had been missing out on this, missing out on her for months. He was an idiot and he needed to fix this. Today. No more waiting.

He pulled away from her mouth and said quickly before he could fuck it up, “I don’t want a divorce.”

Her eyes went wide and she smiled at him, truly smiled, for the first time since he arrived. “You don’t?”

“No. I don’t. I’m not gonna lie, this is fucked up. I shouldn’t want you, I should do the right thing and walk away, but I can’t. I’m a coward because I didn’t want to face your brother, but I also think I let it sit so long because I didn’t want to say goodbye. Not yet.”

Sarah closed her eyes and sighed, a sound of pure bliss if he ever heard one. “Good.Me either. Listen, I know this is crazy and we don’t know each other, but –“

“No, you were right. I should have listened to you in Vegas. We had too much fun together and we should try, get to know each other. If it doesn’t work out, hell, the divorce papers are ready. But…I want to try. I like you.” He caressed her cheek and then pressed a finger into a dimple that formed when she smiled at him. “I missed you. I don’t know how you did it, but one night with you ruined me forever. I kept wishing you were there, in Switzerland, to make me laugh and smile at me with your tongue between your teeth."

She smiled again, tongue in teeth and he kissed her. "Yeah, just like that. That's what I've been missing."

He kissed her again, keeping her nestling against the warm harness of her body. Sarah was so happy. This was what she wanted: Mark, just Mark, saying all the right things and kissing her madly. She hoped he never stopped. It was insanity, wanting him so badly and being so happy that he wouldn't sign the divorce papers, but that was what she felt.

She had missed him, painfully so. How do you end up longing for someone you knew for a single day and night? How had he effectively made himself irreplaceable in no time at all? Those were questions for another day. He was there, had driven to Boston to see her. And he was kissing her like his life depended on it.

She stroked her hands up his sides, rubbing his soft skin over hard muscle and moaning into his mouth. As time had gone on, the reality of their one night together had become crystal clear. She could remember his mouth on her breasts, between her thighs, his tongue circling her clit until she wailed his name. And she needed that again.

In the midst of their make out session, Mark pulled back. Sarah stood in her hallway, panting and waiting for him to either say something or kiss her again.

Mark hadn't even thought about the details when he decided they should stay married. He had spent the six hour drive to Boston trying to figure out a way to tell her that he wanted her without sounding like a psycho. But now, maybe they should actually talk.

He asked, "Are you gonna stay in Boston?"

Sarah shrugged. “Shayne’s been bugging me to move to Philly, be closer to him.”

“Do you want to?”

She asked in return, "Do you want me to? I suppose we should have clarified more, but I was just interested in kissing you."

"Me too. I would like it if you were close.”

Sarah grinned. “Now that I’m done with school, I can look for a place.”

“You should live with me, if you want. I mean, we’re already married so why not just jump into it? I have a nice apartment, good view."

Sarah came forward, wrapping him up in an embrace. "If you're there, I know the view is spectacular."

He smiled at her darling face, but faced with the prospect of doing more than kissing, doing more than telling her he missed her, Mark was worried that she hadn't really thought this through.

"Sarah, are you sure about this? I told you, I'm a lot older than you. I like a quiet life. You know, when I'm not in Vegas."

Sarah peeled off her t-shirt. "So do I."

She started walking away and he followed. "And I get cranky for no reason."

She turned to smile at him and then pulled down her shorts. "I get cranky once a month, without fail."

"I can't cook."

"I'm an excellent cook. I'd be happy to cook for you."

There were in her bedroom and she was naked now, pulling off her undies and bra one at a time. Mark licked his lips, recalling the taste of her skin and the sweet honey of her pussy.

"Sarah...Goddamn, you're beautiful."

She smiled and reached for him, pulling off his t-shirt and then reaching for his belt. Mark and his questions were not going to stop her from getting him naked, getting him inside of her, finally.

When she palmed his cock over his boxers she asked, "You can still get hard without a little blue pill, right?"

Mark laughed and kissed her sassy little mouth. "Yes."

"Then you're not too old for me."

Mark would have liked to give her a slick retort, but she was stroking his cock and it was quite distracting, as you might imagine

Sarah shoved his pants down, and then his boxers. While he stepped out of them, she came to her knees in front of him and he nearly fainted. Those doe eyes stared up at him as she licked the head of his cock and then guided it into her mouth.

And then he felt like a dirty old man again, expect he no longer cared.His young wife was on her knees, smiling around his cock like it was the happiest moment of her life and he knew right then and there that he would probably never be able to bring himself to deny her anything she wanted.

He did, however, have to cut her short.He may have gained some stamina in his old age, but he was still likely to shoot off in her mouth if she kept up that talented sucking.

He got her on the bed, holding her hips down and gazing between her thighs. Wet lips called out to him so he leaned forward to lick. She tasted just as sweet as he remembered.

"Oh, God. Mark. Fuck."

He sucked her clit, just once and then stuck his tongue in her pussy, flicking against her walls until she cried out in near agony.

"Please, sweetheart. Please lick my clit. Please make me come in your mouth."

This was something he must have lost in his drunken memories, Sarah dirty talking, asking for exactly what she wanted and needed with no shame. And it was making him harder than he had ever been in his life.

He moved to where she needed him, licking at her clit fast and harsh until her fingers dug against his scalp, pulling his hair. She came, screaming his name and arching her back, forcing her pussy firmly against his lips as he lapped up her honey.

He shifted next to her, sitting up against the headboard of her bed and then hauling her into his lap. Without further ado, he eased her down onto his cock, finally consummating marriage that should never have happened, but that he was now just incredibly grateful for.

Sarah was damn near close to fainting; he felt so good, so perfectly right. She panted against his mouth, telling him, “This is how I knew we hadn't fucked in Vegas. Your dick leaves an impression."

Mark chuckled and kissed her sloppily as she started to buck back and forth on his lap. His cock went deep and then nearly pulled out with every stroke she made.

"My wife certainly has a foul mouth."

She shivered and then wrapped her arms around his neck. "Goddamn. Say it again."

"What?"

"Call me your wife again. Mark...it's so fucking sexy. I don't care that this is a sham, just say it."

Instead, his mouth came to her neck, nibbling and kissing until he found his way to her ear. "This is gonna be fun. Getting to know all the little things that turn you on. Seeing my sweet wife turn into a wild woman in bed."

"Shit. Can't wait. It is fun. You're fun. Let's have fun."

He thought about the ridiculous vows they made in Vegas, swearing to Elvis to always be each other's teddy bears and hunka hunka burning love. Sarah had unwittingly come up with the only vow that mattered.

"I promise. That's the only thing I'll promise to do for you as long as we're married. We'll have fun, as long as it lasts."

"Thank you. Thank you. Thank you." She kissed him in between words, thanking him again and again as she rode his cock.

He let her set the mood, going faster when she wanted, slowing when she decided it was time, but eventually, he could tell she was getting frustrated. Her groans of pleasure became grunts and he reached between them to tweak both her nipples with his fingers.

"I don't know you very well, Sarah. But I do know you need me to play with your clit to come. Yeah?"

Her whimper was his answer and he smiled with pride as she nodded her head. Fine, so he was older than her. He would use that experience to make her life as beautiful and easy as possible.

His hand sunk lower, his thumb curving under her hood to find her clit. When he made contact, she practically vibrated against him.

"Yes, Mark. Perfect. You know the only thing that matters right now."

Her folds were wet with arousal and he took a glance between their bodies. His cock stretching her open, emerging slick and throbbing, her clit bulging to meet his thumb. He stroked her with one hand, squeezed her ass with the other.

Sarah kept her arms around his neck, throwing her head back and then moaning incessantly until his ministrations were too much. She screamed for him, again. Fucking against him wildly until she fell limp against his chest.

He flipped them over, pressed her hips down with his until his cock filled her to the brim.

"Tell me something. Does my wife like it hard?"

Barely lucid, Sarah managed a breathy giggle before she brushed her palms up his biceps. "Yeah, yes I do. I like it however my husband wants to give it to me."

"Jesus Christ. You're gonna give me a heart attack with that shit."

A fit of laughter over took her as Mark started to pound into her hard and fast. "Don't die on me now, daddy. We're just getting started."

He joined her in laughter, but shook his head. "Call me anything else, anything, but that. I don't need a reminder of how fucking old I am compared to you."

She pulled him close, murmuring against his skin. "How does 'husband' sound?"

"Good. Really fucking good. Fuck!"

After Mark came, he settled in, hold Sarah against his body. She started to drift off, but there was one more issue he needed to settle.

"So...are you going to tell your brother?"

Sarah yawned and burrowed her face in her chest. "I'll let you. When you're ready."

Two Months Later...

"Mark, sweetheart, are you ever going to tell Shayne about us?"

He looked up from the newspaper he was reading at the dining room table in his apartment. He said nothing, just watched Sarah, his damn beautiful wife, set down a plate of breakfast in front of him. He had been meaning to tell Shayne about the fact that he had been married to his sister for the past six months, but he just hadn't gotten around to it. Yes, he was still procrastinating.

Okay, fine, he was scared out of his mind. It was one thing to call Shayne the day after a drunken wedding, but quite another to bring it up so long after the fact. As far as Shayne knew, Sarah had simply agreed to his request to move to Philadelphia. And since Shayne never asked to see her place, the two of them never had to reveal that her roommate was actually his teammate. Or that Mark was her husband.

She stood there, hand on hip, waiting for an answer.

He grabbed her hand, tugging her into his lap and kissing her instead of trying to come up with a suitable lie. This only lasted for so long before she pulled away, smiling.

"I'm serious.Christmas is in a few weeks and I'd really like to bring my husband home. But my brother will be there and I don't think family dinner is the right time to make the announcement to him."

Mark grunted."I know. You're right. I'll tell him today."

"Really? What are you gonna say exactly?"

"That we got drunk one night in Vegas and I did something really fun. And smart."

"Sure, now you think it was a good idea."

Best idea he ever had, to be honest. He stroked her dark hair. "I do.How can I not? It was a stupid idea at the time, but now I'm lucky enough to find myself madly in love with very own wife. Who would have thought?"

Sarah stared at him, half smiling, half stammering for words. "Did you just...say that you're in love with me?"

"Yeah. Hope that's okay with you. Seeing as how we're already married I didn't think it would be an issue."

Sarah burst out laughing and kissed him hard. "Nope, it's wonderful. I love you. I'm so happy to be your wife."

"Still think I'm fun?"

"The most fun."

"That's my girl. Now take off your fucking clothes and bend over the table. You know me, I like a little pussy with my breakfast."

Sarah stood and started to undress. "Yeah, I know."

Notes

I am on a Flyers obsession right now and have at least 3 more Flyers stories in the works. Sorry to everyone who doesn't like the Flyers (why???), but you can deal because they are so fucking cute.