"Ryder," she breathes against my mouth, and the need in her voice matches the fire building in my chest. "Do you want to—"
"Absolutely. But maybe..." The swing moves a little to haphazardly. "Inside?"
Mia giggles and nods. "Yes. I don't want to break it on the very first sitting."
We stumble through the back door in a tangle of hands and mouths and built up need. I barely register the subtle changes to the living room, the kitchen, the hallway—all I can focus on is getting her upstairs to our newly perfect bedroom.
I set her down just inside the bedroom door, my hands immediately going to the hem of her t-shirt. She's watching me with dark eyes, her chest rising and falling rapidly as I pull the fabric over her head.
"Fuck, I missed you," I breathe, my hands spanning her waist as I drink in the sight of her.
"Show me," she whispers, reaching for my shirt.
We undress each other slowly, not with the frantic desperation that I had imagined for our reunion, but with the deliberate care of two people who want to savor every moment.
When she's finally naked before me, bathed in the golden light from our tree filtering through the new curtains, I have to stop and just look at her.
"You're perfect," I tell her, my hands tracing the curve of her waist, the swell of her breasts, the soft skin of her neck that I've dreamed about for six nights. "This is perfect. All of it."
I lift her onto our new bed—ourbed—and follow her down onto sheets that smell fresh and new. The mattress is firm, a vast improvement over the floor situation that had us both waking up with cricks in our necks.
"I love this bed," I murmur against her throat, pressing open-mouthed kisses along her collarbone.
"I love you," she gasps as my mouth finds her breast, teasing her nipple until she arches beneath me.
I take my time exploring her body, reacquainting myself with every inch of skin I've missed. The way she shivers when I kiss the sensitive spot just below her ear. The soft sound she makes when I trail my fingers down her ribs. The way her back arches when I settle between her thighs, finally tasting her wet pussy for the first time in too long.
"Ryder, please," she pleads, her fingers tangling in my hair as I work her closer to the edge.
But I'm not ready to rush this. A week of hotel rooms and airplane food and missing her voice has made me want to worship every moment of being home.
"I missed this," I say against her inner thigh, looking up to meet her gaze. "Missed you. Missed the way you taste, the way you feel."
"Ryder, I'm going to—" she breathes, but her voice breaks on the last word as I return my attention to her clit.
When she finally shatters beneath my mouth, my name a breathless cry that echoes off our new walls, I feel like I could conquer the world.
I kiss my way back up her body, settling between her thighs as she wraps her legs around my waist. I push inside her, and we both go still for a moment, overwhelmed by the sensation of being connected like this again.
"I love coming home to you," I whisper against her lips as I start to move.
Through the window, I can see our swing moving gently in the evening breeze, and beyond it, the lights of Iron Ridge twinkling to life.
This is what I played for these past six days. Not the wins or the statistics or the praise from sports writers.This. Her soft sighs, her nails digging into my shoulders, the way she looks at me like I'm everything she's ever wanted.
The sensation of her climax triggers my own, and I bury my face in her neck as I empty myself inside her, my body shuddering until I fall on top of her.
Later, we lie tangled in our new sheets, her head on my chest. The room is dark now except for the soft glow of the bedside lamps she picked out, and I can hear the peaceful sounds of Iron Ridge settling into evening.
"Tell me about the road trip," she murmurs, her fingers drawing abstract designs across my chest.
"We won all four games," I say, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "But I spent most of it thinking about coming home to you."
"Good. Because I spent most of the week missing you."
"And trying not to let Bear and Marcus see you crying into your coffee every morning because you missed me so bad?"
She slaps my chest and I laugh, my arms tightening around her. "In your dreams. Don't let it go to your head."
