She reaches between us and finds her clit with her finger.
"That's it," I encourage as she rubs it and tightens around me even more. "Let go for me, baby."
As she comes her entire body starts shaking beneath me. The feel of her pussy clenching my cock pushes me over the edge. I bury my face in her neck as I follow her, emptying myself inside her with a loud moan.
I continue to lay on top of her as I press soft kisses to her shoulder, her jaw, her lips, not ready to break the connection.
"Wow..." she trails off, looking up at me with wonder.
"Yeah," I agree, brushing a strand of hair from her face.
"It felt different this time."
"It was different." I catch her hand, bringing it to my lips. "Everything is different now."
"Because we're not sneaking around anymore?"
"Because I'm not afraid of how much I feel for you." The words come out before I can filter them, raw and honest.
Her eyes widen slightly. "And how much is that?"
I pull her closer, kissing her forehead, her cheek, the corner of her mouth. "Enough to scare the shit out of me before. Enough to make me think about forever."
She goes still in my arms. "Nate..."
"I'm not saying we're there yet," I clarify quickly. "I'm just saying that for the first time in my life, I can see a future with someone. With you."
I finally roll off her and pull her to me. She relaxes against me, her head nestled under my chin. "I can see it too," she whispers.
I stretch my neck from side to side, feeling the satisfying stretch of tight muscles loosening after a brutal practice. The locker room empties around me as guys rush to shower and head home. I'm taking my time, deliberately being the last one out. Coach Martinez is still on the ice, reviewing notes with the assistant coaches. My stomach knots as I watch him through the tunnel opening. This conversation could go sideways fast, but it needs to happen.
"You coming, Barnesy?" McCoy calls from the door, keys jingling in his hand.
"Nah. Got something to take care of first." I tug my shirt over still-damp hair. "See you tomorrow, man."
He raises an eyebrow but doesn't pry. That's what makes him a good captain—knows when to push, when to back off.
I'm fully dressed but lingering at my stall when Coach finally walks in, clipboard tucked under his arm. His eyes flick to me, then narrow slightly when he realizes we're alone.
"Barnesy. Everything alright?"
I stand, wiping suddenly sweaty palms on my jeans. "Yeah. I was hoping I could talk to you for a minute."
He studies me for a moment. "My office," he says, turning without waiting for my response.
I follow him down the corridor, past framed photos of Blades legends and championship banners. His office is as neat as always—desk free of clutter, chair pushed under it, whiteboard marked with plays and player stats in his precise handwriting.
"Have a seat." He motions to the chair across from his desk as he settles into his own.
I sit, hands resting on my knees. "I appreciate you taking the time, Coach."
He leans back, eyes steady on my face. "What's on your mind?"
The carefully prepared speech I'd rehearsed for days flies right out of my head. I take a deep breath. Honesty. Just go with honesty.
"I know you already know that Elena and I are seeing each other again," I begin, meeting his gaze directly. "But I wanted to talk to you about it. Man to man."
His jaw tics, but he doesn't interrupt.
