I giggle, feeling a blush creep onto my cheeks.
He throws the covers open as I approach my side of the bed. And I like to think that it has the same chivalry of opening my door.
A twinge of sadness twists in my stomach, the emptiness that forms when I think that we’re running out time before he moves back into the house he and some of the other players are renting.
I slide under the covers with my back flat on the mattress and my gaze on the ceiling. “Are you excited to be done with training camp?”
Cal adjusts to the same position I am in, and he says, “Excited for less practices, but pissed I won’t get this every night.”
I roll over and face him, knowing I’m about to say something he won’t agree to. “I could always pay to get you out of your lease or buy the house, and then you can stay here.”
He scoffs, rolling over instantly. “Yeah, no, thanks, love. You have already done enough for me for a lifetime. I’ll finish this semester out in the house, and if you are still tolerating me by then, we can see about making this a more permanent arrangement.”
I inch closer to him. “You sound like such a businessman, Mr. Jones. I will accept your offer.”
He laughs. “Good, because you had no choice.” He leans forward and seals our deal with a kiss.
And this time, he doesn’t pull away. His callous fingers find my waist, pulling our bodies flush together. His kiss is strong and heady, claiming me.
Every muscle in my body relaxes as his fingers trail up and down my spine, getting lower and lower with each stroke.
“Becca, I’m going to touch you. Is that all right?” His words show far more control than the breathiness of his voice.
I nod my head.
“I need to hear you say it, love.” Cal lowers his mouth, and his tongue laps at my neck. His teeth nip the skin by my collarbone.
“Yes,” I beg him, needing to feel more.
He hooks the bottom of my slip, and torturously slow, he glides it up and over my head, finding a spot for it on the floor.
I’m scared it’ll happen, that I’ll get a flashback and freak out again. So far, so good. And that’s all I can do—take it one second at a time.
Cal’s hand trails over my shoulder, and he gently pushes my back down to the bed until I’m staring up at him as he hovers over me.
He balances on one hand while his other begins to explore, caressing my body. It trails down my chest, stopping at the sensitive peak, rolling it between his fingers, and I can’t stop myself before the moan floats past my parted lips.
He continues to map my body, memorizing every line and curve—first with his fingers and then with his tongue.
“Cal …” I beg for more,needingmore.
He smiles at me from between my legs. “Tell me what you want.”
I want it all. I wanteverythinghe can give. We haven’t had sex since we got back together, and I’m nervous as hell. I’m terrified that when my eyes close, I won’t be able to stop the images that sometimes form in my mind.
But my body can’t take much more of this slow torture. And I’ll risk spiraling into a flashback a thousand times over in order to feel Cal right now.
His tongue flicks against me, and I cry out, “I want you. I want all of you.Please.”
He rises up and backs off the bed, offering me his hand. “Come here.”
He quickly grabs a condom.
I react without thought, without hesitation, grabbing his hand and letting him pull me forward until I’m standing in front of him, completely bare—in so many more ways than just my body.
His eyes hold mine as he tugs his shirt over his head, tossing it on the floor. His powerful gaze keeps me in place as his thumbs slide into his sweats and boxers, finding the same place as my slip.
And then we stand there, surrounded by the notes of the music playing softly on the TV. We stare at each other, studying every inch of our bodies, loving every unique freckle, loving every stretch mark and mole.
