Chapter 30
Jefferson
The door clicks open and I glance up, heart already lighter just seeing her silhouette in the doorway.
Ingrid slips inside, quiet as ever, and kicks off her shoes by the dresser.
They tumble over each other, a careless little heap that makes me smile because she’s here, not on a stage, not on the road, but here with me.
She crosses the room in one of those sexy little tennis skirts that show off her legs and a crop top.
Without hesitation she crawls back under the covers, sliding into my side like she belongs there.
Which she does. My arm goes around her automatically, like my body has been waiting for her weight against me.
“Thought maybe you’d be up by now,” she says, pressing her ass into the curve of my body. My dick twitches in appreciation.
“I thought if I stayed in bed, maybe there’d be a shot you’d get back in.”
“Smart boy.”
"How did it go?" I ask, my voice low, not wanting to break the spell of this moment.
"Okay, I think." She nuzzles into my chest, her hair tickling my chin. "I hope so. I think maybe having some space will be good for us."
I kiss her temple, breathing her in. I didn’t realize how much I needed the quiet of her, how good it feels to have her pressed close without the roar of a crowd or the pressure of a game between us.
"I spent the last four years spending just about twenty-four-seven with three roommates.
We lived together, played together, traveled together, partied together…
things changed when they started dating someone seriously.
Everyone was happier, well, almost everyone. "
Her head tilts back so she can look at me. "You weren’t happier?"
I run my thumb along her shoulder, tracing lazy circles on her skin. "At the time it felt like I was losing something, my wingmen, I guess, but looking back? They weren’t leaving me behind. They were just…growing up. Moving forward. I guess I didn’t realize I wanted that too, until you."
Her lips curve, soft and knowing. "So, what are you saying?
I tug her until she’s on top of me, legs straddled over my hips. She’s a goddess and I’m the fucking luckiest man in the world. “You’re it, Angel.”
Her hand rests over my chest, right above my heart, and I know she feels how hard it’s beating. "Good," she whispers. "Because you’re it for me too. Even when it’s messy. Even when I’m on the road and you’re playing halfway across the country."
"We’ll figure it out," I say, certain in a way I’ve never been about anything. "Calls. Flights. Off-season trips. Hell, I’ll even learn how to live out of one of those sparkly suitcases of yours if it means being with you."
She laughs, quiet but genuine, and kisses me slowly. When she pulls back, she doesn’t move far, her forehead resting against mine. "That sounds like a plan."
“But I’ve got a month off, what about you?”
She grins. “I’ve got a little free time coming up.”
The hem of her skirt brushes my thighs, light as a tease, “Any idea what we should do with it?”
“A few.” She laughs softly, then leans down to kiss me–slow at first, then deeper, until the world narrows to just the press of her lips and the weight of her body against mine. My hands slide lower, over the soft curve of her thighs, gripping just enough to draw a little gasp from her.
Her lips part against mine, that tiny gasp turning into a sound I feel all the way down to my balls. I grip her tighter, pulling her closer, until there isn’t an inch between us. The skirt rides higher as she shifts in my lap, and I curse the stretchy shorts underneath.
“You drive me fucking insane,” I murmur against her mouth, nipping at her bottom lip before letting her take it back in a kiss that leaves me dizzy.
Grinding down on me with that hot, little pussy, I groan, the thin barrier of my shorts doing nothing to hide how hard I am for her.
My hands slip under her skirt, palms gliding up the backs of her thighs, settling on the curve of her ass.
She shivers at the contact, pressing closer, like she can’t get enough.
“Angel,” I whisper, and it’s half prayer, half plea.
“Yeah?” Her voice is pure sin, soft and taunting all at once.
“How pissed are you going to be if I tear this skirt?”
Her smile curves against my jaw as she kisses her way down to my neck, teeth grazing my skin just enough to leave me aching for more. “Impatient?”
“If I could fuck you all day, I would. Strip you bare, keep you naked, wear you out.” The words snap the last thread of restraint I have.
I grab the hem of her crop top and pull it up and over her head in one swift move, tossing it to the floor.
She sits back just long enough for me to take her in—hair a little mussed, lips kiss-swollen, chest rising and falling fast. Her nipples are hard peaks, tits that fit perfectly in my palms. She’s a queen, my lap her throne, and that sexy smirk on her mouth tells me she knows exactly how much she owns me.
“Beautiful,” I say, because anything less would be a lie.
Heat, softness, and the electric shock of being skin-to-skin again after too damn long.
I can’t stop kissing her. Hard, deep, desperate.
Every kiss is a claim and I roll us over, pressing her body into the mattress, letting her feel how fucking much I want her.
But showing her isn’t enough. She needs to hear it. “I love you, Angel.”
“I love you too, Jefferson.”
I rise up, peel off that skirt, not giving a fuck if it tears or not.
I’ll buy her a new one. Kissing my way down the length of her body, she arches beneath me, every sigh and shiver pulling me deeper under her spell.
By the time I settle between her thighs, she’s trembling, whispering my name like it’s the only word she knows.
When I finally push into her, it’s everything–heat, home, salvation. Her nails bite into my shoulders, her legs wrap tight around me, and I lose myself completely. Every thrust is a promise, every groan a confession, until we’re both unraveling together, nothing between us but love and fire.
After, she melts against me, skin damp, heart racing against mine. I hold her close, kissing the crown of her head, and for the first time in my life, I don’t want or need anything else.
Because she’s it. My Angel. My future. My forever.