I DON’T EXPECT the knock on the door.
I look up from the couch and put a bookmark between the pages of the romance novel I’m reading so I don’t lose my spot. It’s the first time I’ve had a chance to sit down and escape from reality in a couple of weeks, and it feels good to turn my mind off for a little while.
I check my phone to see if Maggie texted me, but I don’t have any new messages.
“Huh,” I say, and I shuffle across the living room.
When I peer through the peephole, I see Shawn’s torso and the Titans logo proudly stretched across his chest.
“Special delivery,” he says when I open the door, and I grin.
“What the heck are you doing here? I didn’t think I’d see you until the day after tomorrow when we left for your parents’.”
“I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d stop by.” He holds up a crinkled paper bag and I spot the logo of my favorite bakery stamped on the front. “I come bearing gifts, too.”
“You should’ve led off with that. We’d already be halfway to the kitchen.” I open the door wide and tug him into my apartment. “What did you bring? Anything good?”
“I don’t know.” Shawn shrugs, and his lips pull into a knowing grin. “Just a couple of lemon scones and a slice of their chocolate and raspberry cheesecake. Interested?”
“Is saying fuck yeah too aggressive?” I hurry him into the kitchen and grab two plates. I nudge them his way so he can dole out the desserts. “Do you want something to drink? I just opened a bottle of wine.”
“Sure, I’ll have what you’re having. I won’t stay long, though. I don’t want to interrupt your night.”
“You’re not interrupting anything.” I fill a glass with a generous pour of the cabernet, and I slide it across the counter. “I’m grateful for the company. I was just doing some reading. My vacation started today, so I’ve been taking it easy.”
“I’m officially off, too,” he says, and he sits on a barstool at my island. He looks so big in the seat, and I think he might break the tiny piece of furniture in two. “I’m giving the guys the next week off. We’re either going to come back rejuvenated, or we’re going to get our asses handed to us at the game on New Year’s Day.”
“I saw the press conference you did after your panic attack the other day,” I say gently, and I sit next to him. “How are you doing?”
“I feel great. I had an appointment with my therapist, and I told the reporters the truth. It went better than I thought.” Shawn picks up a scone and takes a big bite. His moan is low and loud, and half the pastry disappears. My thighs clench together at the sound, and I try not to stare at his tongue as it darts out of his mouth to lick away a dusting of crumbs. “Fuck, that’s good. I would commit serious crimes for a basket of these things.”
“I’ll drive the getaway car,” I say, and I eat a sliver of the pastry. “I’m proud of you for opening up to people you don’t know. I’m sure that wasn’t easy.”
“It definitely wasn’t, but I’m glad I did it. I’ve already had dozens of messages from other athletes—some in the NFL and some at the collegiate level—telling me how much they appreciate me speaking out. We all agree that we want to normalize being not okay sometimes.” He pops the last bite of dessert in his mouth and dusts off his hands. “I guess that’s life, isn’t it? We’re all just trying to figure it out.”
“I’ll drink to that.” I lift my glass, and we knock our drinks together. “Are you excited to go home? When was the last time you saw your parents?”
“For my mom’s birthday back in August. It’s not a long drive to Philly. Hell, the flight is only an hour, but organizing things during the season and with my sisters’ schedule can be chaotic. They’ve got kids. I’ve got the team. We have to plan family events a year in advance,” he says, and he scoots the cheesecake my way. “Ladies first.”
“Such a gentleman.” I cut a bite of the decadent dessert and bring it to my mouth. “Holy shit. Unreal.”
“Seriously, I would do anything to have more of this.” Shawn takes a bite, and another groan sneaks out of him. “I sound like I’m in a porno, don’t I?”
“You do make similar sounds in the bedroom,” I joke, and he kicks my shin. “I’m kind of offended the cheesecake gets more enthusiasm than me.”
“Until you cover yourself in raspberries and chocolate, you’re always going to be second best, Lace. Sorry, this is a competition you cannot win.”
“Well, don’t tempt me with a good time. I have chocolate syrup in the fridge.”
Shawn laughs, and I like that sound.
I like him in the quiet moments, too, like when he was in my arms the other night after we left the game early, but there’s something about knowing I’m the one who gets him to smile that spears me right through my chest.
“I should go,” he says. “I don’t want to overstay my welcome.”
“No.” I reach out and grab his arm faster than I can blink. “Stay,” I say, and I stick out my bottom lip. Heat flares behind his eyes, a burning gaze I feel deep in my belly. “Please. I like you being here more than I like being alone.”
“Okay.” He hitches his thumb and fingers around my chin and tilts my head back. “I’ll stay.”
“Want to go into the living room? It’s more comfortable out there.”
“I do love your couch.” He scoops the glass of wine off the counter and gestures out of the kitchen. “Lead the way.”
“Are you going to look at my ass again? You’re becoming predictable, Holmes.”
“And you’re still just as hot as you were the last time I wanted to look at your ass, Daniels,” Shawn answers, and I grin.
I walk toward the living room, but a tug on my arm stops me halfway there. There’s a flurry of movement and limbs, and suddenly I’m pressed against the wall. I look up, and Shawn is staring down at me.
“What’s wrong?” I ask through an exhale. My chest rises and falls as he takes over my space, and you’d think I’ve been sprinting for miles. I can feel the heat of his body against mine, and one of his palms rests next to my ear. “Are you okay?”
“You’re wearing the shirt you took from my house,” he says, and it sounds strangled. Strained. Like it takes all of his effort to speak. “You wear my shirt around your house?”
My cheeks flame bright red, and I dip my chin to hide the blush crawling up my neck. “I wasn’t expecting company.”
“That doesn’t answer my question, Lacey. Do you wear my shirt around your house?” he asks again, and this time, there’s a fierceness in his tone.
I swallow and close my eyes. I let out a breath before giving him a single nod. “Yes,” I whisper. “I do.”
“Fuck,” he croaks. He pulls me into the living room and sets his wine glass down. He runs his hands over the front of the cotton, cupping my breasts and squeezing my nipples. “That’s so hot.”
“I sleep in it, too,” I say, my tongue loose and my inhibitions lowered. “It’s my favorite thing to wear.”
“We’re still friends who fuck, right?” he asks in my ear, and it sounds like sin. His teeth nip at my skin, and I tilt my head to the side to give him better access to my neck. I want to feel him everywhere. “Can I have you?”
“Yes,” I manage to get out. I hitch my knee up to his hip, and he runs his hand up my leg. His fingers dance across my stomach, dipping lower and lower until his knuckles brush against the inside of my thigh and my eyes roll to the back of my head. “Yes, we are, and yes, you can.”
“I want to see how much you love wearing my things when you touch yourself. I want to see how much you want me,” Shawn says, and his palm falls away from my body.
I let out a frustrated moan, a ravaged sound that has my hands grabbing his shirt and pulling him toward me. He kisses me rough and hard, scorching presses of his lips against mine.
“Shawn,” I say. “I want you.”
“You can’t stay away. I can’t stay away either. Go bend over the couch.”
My foot falls to the floor, and I’m shaky as I walk across the room. I hear Shawn behind me, the stomp of his boots and his ragged breathing. He’s just as affected as I am.
“How do you want me?”
“Over the arm,” he says, and I barely recognize his voice. “Get your ass in the air.”
The leather is cool against my skin and my shirt bunches above my ribs. I glance over my shoulder, and Shawn is watching me with molten eyes and his hand down the front of his jeans. He strokes himself, a twist of his wrist, and red splashes up his neck.
“Do you like what you see, Shawn?” I ask. I raise up on my tiptoes, and I wiggle my hips. “Do you want to touch me? Or am I going to have to do it myself?”
His throat bobs, and he closes the distance between us. He bends over, folding his body into mine. “We can keep pretending we’re just fuck buddies, Lacey, but you’re wearing my shirt with nothing underneath it. What about this feels fake to you?”
Nothing, I want to yell.
There’s no warning before he slams into me, a thrust so forceful, I tip forward and almost fall face-first onto the couch. My blood runs hot and electricity cackles at the tips of my fingers. I grip the cushions to stay upright, and Shawn reaches his hand around to pull the shirt up to my neck.
“Fucking love your tits. Want to cover you in my cum.”
“You can.” I gasp as he gets an inch deeper, the roll of his hips deliriously satisfying. “I’d like that.”
He grunts out his appreciation as his mouth settles on my left shoulder, sucking the skin there like it’s his key to survival. His hand doesn’t know where it wants to be; pinching my nipple or circling my clit, an alternating pattern that’s too much stimulation but not enough at the same time.
Shawn trades out his thumb with the heel of his palm, and I grind into him, unabashedly chasing a high. I’ve never been self-conscious about what I like in the bedroom, but for the first time in my life, I feel myself just letting go.
Enjoying the moment.
Savoring him and the way he makes me feel so goddamn good.
“You take me so well, Lacey girl,” he says, and fire licks up my spine. It’s a heady rush of heat I’m desperately clawing for. “I like watching you like this. I like having you like this. I love when you come on my cock, sweetheart. It’s our secret, right?”
That’s all I need.
My orgasm rushes over me and sweeps me out to sea.
Shawn doesn’t stop, one hand still between my legs and the other clasped around my throat, taking every burst of pleasure from me he can get.
He’s greedy for it, and I give him everything I have until the pulse of delight dulls to a quiet hum. Until my legs quiver and my hips slam back against his, meeting him thrust for thrust.
I’m exhausted.
Bone-achingly tired and perfectly sated, but I want to get him there, too.
I want to be the one to push him over the edge.
I reach behind me and put my hand on his stomach. My fingers fan out across the hard lines of his muscles, and he stops immediately. I slide him out of me and sit on the arm of the couch.
“I want to be good for you.” I tug his shirt over my head and throw it to the floor. When I push my breasts together, his eyes go wide. “Use me, Shawn.”
“Fuck,” he curses, his thighs bumping into my chest and his hand weaving through my hair. His jeans sit around his ankles, and I love that he never bothered to take them all the way off, too caught up in the moment. “Careful, Lacey. You keep saying things like that, and I’m never going to let you go.”
Good, I think.
Don’t.
I sit up a little straighter. I lean forward from my hips and take his cock between my breasts. I rub him up and down, and he pulls my hair tight.
“You like to be the one to take care of me, don’t you, Shawn?” I ask, and his pupils are as dark as the night sky. “I want you to come. I’d like that a lot.”
His hand wraps around his shaft, and he gives himself three rough tugs.
“Lacey,” he whispers, a warning before his release covers my chest. Sticky and salty, it clings to the top of my breasts. A little gets on my shoulder, too, and I like that it’s hard for him to control himself around me.
I run my hand through the mess. Shawn pants as I bring my fingers to my mouth, and I swear he’s already half-hard again. My tongue licks up the length of my finger, and I hum.
“Good,” I whisper. I put my clean hand on his thigh and swirl my tongue over the tip of his cock. “So good for me, Shawn. I like watching you come undone.”
He blows out a shaky breath, and he rests his weight against the couch. For a minute, I think he’s going to fall over before he rights himself and hooks his fingers around my chin.
“You’re incredible,” he says, and he bends down to press his mouth against mine.
Kissing him is addicting, a vice I never want to recover from.
“Right back at you,” I say, and I brush a few pieces of sweaty hair away from his forehead. “Want to stay and eat the rest of that cheesecake? We could put on a movie.”
“Course I do. We can’t just not eat it, right?” he asks, and he pulls his jeans up his thighs.
“Now that you’ve had both in the same night, which is better? Me, or the dessert?”
“Ah, Lacey girl.” Shawn rubs his thumb down the curve of my cheek. The lights from my Christmas tree twinkle in his eyes, and he’s wearing the biggest smile. “You win every time. It’s not even close. Even with a billion choices, it would still be you.”
