Page 106 of Defensive Desire

"That's it. Come for me," I demand against her slick flesh. "Come on my tongue, baby."

She shakes apart with a muffled scream, her body clenching around my fingers as she rides out the waves. I don't let up, licking her through the aftershocks until she's pulling me up by my hair.

"Inside me," she pants, already reaching for my belt. "Need you inside me."

I free my cock, already hard and aching, and lift her legs around my waist. She's so wet I slide in easily, both of us groaning at the feeling of connection.

"Fuck, you feel good," I rasp, burying my face in her neck. "So perfect. You're always so perfect, my beautiful sweetheart."

I set a hard, desperate rhythm, the boxes creaking under her weight as I pound into her. This isn't gentle lovemaking. This is raw, primal, full of all the emotions I can't bring myself to voice.

"Yes," she moans, meeting every thrust. "God, Logan, don't stop."

I won't. I can't.

This might be our last time in this arena, this building that's become so important to both of us.

Her pussy clenches around me, and I know she's close again. I reach between us, finding her clit with my thumb, rubbing it fast until she's sobbing my name.

"Come with me," she gasps. "Please."

I'm right there with her, my orgasm building at the base of my spine. When she falls apart again, her walls milking my cock, I follow her over the edge with a grunt that's half pleasure, half pain.

We stay locked together for a long moment, breathing hard, sweat cooling on our skin. Eventually, I set her down gently, both of us scrambling to make ourselves presentable.

"That was..." she starts, then just shakes her head, smiling.

"Yeah," I agree, tucking my shirt back in. "That was."

She reaches up to fix my hair, her touch gentle, loving. "You sure you're okay? You seemed... intense."

I catch her hand, pressing it flat against my chest. "Just wanted to celebrate you properly."

It's not the whole truth. It's not even close. But it's all I can give her right now.

"We should get back," she says, but makes no move toward the door.

"Emma, I—"

"I know."

Her eyes search mine, deep and knowing, and for a moment, I wonder if she really does know everything I'm not saying. If somehow those warm eyes can see straight through my carefully constructed walls to all the fear and uncertainty churning inside me.

The rumors, the meeting, the possibility that in a few short weeks, I might be wearing another team's jersey in another city, far from this bookstore, this town... far from her.

I've gotten good at hiding my emotions. Hell, in my field, it's practically a professional requirement. But Emma has always had this unsettling ability to read me like one of her damn books.

She cups my cheek and smiles gently. "I know, Logan. Tomorrow we'll figure out what comes next. Together."

Together.

Fuck, I hope so.

We slip back into the lounge separately, Emma first, me following a few minutes later. The party's winding down, people gathering their things, making plans for after the exhibition game tomorrow.

I grab another beer and position myself back by the windows, but Emma's already been pulled into another conversation with Sophia about media interviews and publicity photos following the announcement tomorrow.

I'm watching her laugh at something Grandpa Walt says when nature calls. The guys' restroom is just down the hall from the lounge, and I slip out quietly, nodding to a few maintenance guys heading the opposite direction.