Page 94 of Offside Rules

I’ve spent weeks finding those. My family. His shoulder. The fact that he might leave Seattle and never come back.

None of them seem especially convincing with his hand sliding up my belly to my rib cage, then cupping my breast. I moan into his mouth as he massages me, my nipple sliding between his index and middle fingers. He squeezes gently, a shot of pain and pleasure making my center tighten.

"Your shoulder," I murmur.

"Has received plenty of attention tonight."

"I’m serious."

"My shoulder isn’t getting between us tonight. I’ve been waiting too long for this."

He shifts back long enough for me to help him pull his shirt over his head. Then his hand slips beneath the waistband of my pajama pants, warm fingers moving beneath my panties to slide through me. I grip the back of his neck as more arousal coats his fingers.

He draws his hand away so I can push my pajama pants and panties down and kick them off. He removes his sweatpants and boxers, then settles over me again, keeping his weight on his good forearm.

I’ve seen him shirtless enough times that this shouldn’t distract me.

Having permission to touch is making a considerable difference.

My palm moves over his chest and down his stomach until my fingers wrap around his length. He draws in a breath, watching my hand before looking back at me.

"Go slow or this is going to end sooner than either of us would like. I still have a lot I want to do to you tonight."

Then he lowers his mouth to my breast, his lips hot and wet around my nipple. My fingers tighten around his length as my hand slides up and down his shaft.

He lifts his head, and I press my forehead against his, my breath catching when his fingers find me again.

"Okay?" he asks.

I nod.

"Yes." I catch his mouth before he can ask anything else. "Very okay."

He smiles against my lips, then touches me again.

I forget what I was going to say next.

For a while, there’s only his mouth and his hand, the way he watches me whenever I pull back enough to breathe. I’ve gotten used to Wolf looking pleased with himself.

This is going to make him impossible.

I kiss him harder anyway.

My hand moves over him again. His eyes close briefly, and the sound he makes sends heat through me.

When he opens them again, he catches my hand gently.

"Give me a second."

He shifts back and reaches into the nightstand for a condom. I take it from him and open the wrapper, then roll it onto him while he watches.

Once it’s on, he moves back over me, keeping his weight on his good forearm. I run my hand up the back of his neck and draw him down.

The kiss is slower this time. Deep enough that I stop worrying about where to put my hands or whether he can tell how badly I want him.

He already knows.

I feel him at my entrance and lift my hips toward him.