“Elena’s going to have our heads.”
“Most likely.”
She opens her eyes and looks at me. “And you’re still okay with all that?”
I cross the room in three strides, backing her up against the door. My hands frame her face and I can feel the way her breath catches when I touch her.
“I got a text from Coach T today,” I say quietly. “He reminded me that I deserve good things. That I shouldn’t overthink everything.”
“What does that have to do with us?”
“You’re a good thing, Wren. The best thing that’s happened to me in years. I’m tired of overthinking it.”
Before she can respond, I’m kissing her. It’s desperate and hungry and full of all the things I can’t say out loud. She melts into me immediately, her hands fisting in my shirt.
“This is a mistake,” she whispers against my mouth. “If we get caught…”
“Then we’ll deal with it,” I say. “Together.”
That’s what does it. Not the kiss. Not the promises. Thetogether.
“Ryan,” she breathes against my mouth.
“I need you,” I tell her. “Right now. Right here.”
“Someone could come looking for us.”
“Let them.”
I can see the exact moment she gives in, when the worry leaves her eyes and gets replaced by want. She reaches for the hem of my shirt and pulls it over my head, her hands immediately going to my chest.
“You’re going to be the death of me,” she murmurs.
“Good. I want to ruin you for anyone else. I don’t want you to ever be satisfied by anyone else. Onlyme.”
The words come out rougher than I intended, but I mean them. I want to mark her, claim her, make sure she never forgets what it feels like to be touched by me.
I lift her easily, her legs wrapping around my waist as I carry her to the narrow bed. When I lay her down, she’s looking at me with an expression I’ve never seen before. Vulnerable and trusting and so beautiful it makes my chest ache.
“Tell me what you want,” I say.
“You. Just you.”
I take my time undressing her, pressing kisses to each inch of skin as I reveal it. I wait. Just long enough for her to nod. Just long enough for her to tell me without words that she’s sure. When I finally settle between her thighs, she’s trembling and breathless.
“Please,” she whispers.
“Please what?”
“Touch me. Make me forget everything else.”
I do. I worship her body with my hands and mouth until she’s writhing beneath me, my name falling from her lips over and over. When I finally push inside her, we both go still for a moment.
“Fuck,” I breathe. “You feel incredible.”
She pulls me down for a kiss that’s all teeth and tongue and desperation. She doesn’t just reach for me. She clings. Like she’s finally letting herself need someone. “Move,” she demands.
I set a rhythm that’s slow and deep, taking my time, despite the urgency clawing at my chest. This feels different from our other encounters. More intense. More real.
