Page 30 of Slap Shot (Charm City Chill #3)

"Then we'll handle it like adults running a professional organization," Jack said. "The policy changes, Ivy. You can either implement those changes or I can find someone who will."

Oliver watched Ivy calculate her options. Resignation would mean starting over somewhere else. Staying meant swallowing her pride but keeping her position and whatever power came with it.

"I'll draft the new guidelines," she said through clenched teeth. "But I want it on record that I object to this decision."

"Noted," Jack said dismissively. "Now, if we can get back to handling the actual crisis?"

Ivy left, her heels clicking against the floor like bullets. The moment the door closed, Heather's hand brushed his under the table.

"Well," Vicky said dryly, "that was entertaining."

"Glad you enjoyed it," Jack replied, and Oliver caught something in the look they exchanged that suggested their conflict had shifted into entirely different territory.

THAT EVENING, OLIVER'S apartment felt like a sanctuary. Charlie sprawled across his favorite spot on the rug, completely relaxed for the first time in weeks. Heather sat on the couch with her laptop, but she was shopping for restaurant reservations instead of analyzing security breaches.

"So we can actually date now," Oliver said, settling beside her with two beers. "Publicly. Like normal people."

"I don't think we'll ever be normal people." She closed the laptop and turned to face him. "Normal people don't catch conspiracies or have panic attacks in grocery stores or need service dogs to function."

"Normal people don't hack into secure systems for fun or rebuild their careers after their ex-husband betrays them or fall in love with broken hockey players."

"You're not broken," Heather said firmly. "You're complicated. There's a difference."

Oliver set down his beer and pulled her onto his lap. "How did I get this lucky?"

"Well, someone had to attack our organization with sophisticated cyber warfare. Then you had to have a criminal past that made you useful to the investigation. Then I had to be smart enough to catch you. Then—"

He silenced her with a kiss that started soft but quickly turned heated. Weeks of hiding, of stolen moments and careful distance, all of that was over. They could be together without looking over their shoulders, without worrying about policies or surveillance or professional consequences.

The kiss deepened, and suddenly Heather was straddling him properly, her hands fisting in his hair as months of suppressed desire came flooding to the surface.

They could touch each other now without fear, could make noise without worrying about being discovered, could celebrate their freedom in ways they'd only dreamed about.

"We don't have to be quiet anymore," she breathed against his lips, the realization hitting her like a revelation.

"No, we don't," Oliver agreed, his hands sliding under her shirt to palm her breasts through her bra. "We can be as loud as we want. We can fuck on every surface in this apartment and not worry about anyone finding out."

The crude promise sent heat spiraling through her core. "Is that what you want to do? Christen every room now that we're free?"

"I want to worship you," he said, standing and lifting her with him. "I want to take my time with you, make you scream my name without worrying about who might hear."

Charlie padded toward his bed in the corner with what looked suspiciously like a doggy eye roll. Smart dog knew when to make himself scarce.

Oliver carried her to the bedroom, but instead of the desperate rush of their previous encounters, he set her down gently and began undressing her with deliberate slowness. Each piece of clothing was removed with reverent care, his hands and mouth following the path of revealed skin.

"I love that I can take my time with you now," he murmured against her throat as her blouse fell away. "No more rushing, no more stolen moments. Just us, with all the time in the world."

When her bra joined the pile of discarded clothes, Oliver's mouth found her breasts with worshipful attention. He sucked and licked and gently bit her nipples until she was arching against him, soft moans filling the air without any attempt to muffle them.

"God, I love those sounds," he said, his voice rough with want. "I love hearing how much you want me."

"Then you're going to love what comes next," she said breathlessly, pushing him back onto the bed and straddling his hips.

She took her time undressing him, mapping every inch of his muscled chest and shoulders with her hands and mouth. When she reached his jeans, she took extra care freeing his cock, wrapping her hand around the thick length and stroking him slowly.

"Fuck, Heather," Oliver groaned, his hips bucking into her touch. "Your hands feel incredible."

"Just my hands?" she asked with a wicked smile, before lowering her head to take him into her mouth.

Oliver's head fell back with a harsh curse as she worked him with her tongue and lips, taking him deeper than she'd ever been able to before. Without the fear of discovery, she could focus entirely on his pleasure, on learning exactly what made him lose control.

"Jesus Christ, your mouth," he panted, his hands threading through her hair. "So fucking perfect. I could watch you suck my cock for hours."

She pulled off him with a soft pop, her lips swollen and slick. "Later," she promised. "Right now, I need you inside me. I need to ride you until we both forget our own names."

Oliver's eyes went dark at her words. "Then take what you need, sweetheart. Take everything."

She positioned herself over him, sinking down slowly until he was buried completely inside her pussy. The feeling of being so full, so perfectly stretched around his thick cock, made them both groan with satisfaction.

"So deep like this," she gasped, rolling her hips experimentally. "I can feel every inch of you."

"You're so fucking tight," Oliver said through gritted teeth, his hands gripping her hips. "So wet and perfect around me. Ride me, baby. Show me how good it feels."

Heather began to move, setting a rhythm that had them both gasping.

This position gave her control, let her take him at the angle and speed that drove her wild.

Oliver's hands roamed her body, cupping her bouncing breasts, thumbing her nipples, sliding down to where they were joined to stroke her clit.

"That's it," he encouraged, his voice strained with the effort of letting her set the pace. "Use my cock. Take your pleasure from me."

The combination of his thick length hitting her G-spot with every movement and his skilled fingers on her clit pushed her rapidly toward the edge. But she wanted more, wanted to give him everything now that they were free to explore.

"I want you to fuck me from behind," she said breathlessly, lifting off him. "I want you to take me hard and make me scream."

Oliver needed no further encouragement. He flipped her onto her hands and knees, positioning himself behind her. The view of her ass in the air, her pussy glistening with arousal, made his cock twitch with desperate need.

"You're so beautiful like this," he said, running his hands over the curves of her ass before gripping her hips. "So fucking sexy spread out for me."

When he thrust into her from this angle, they both cried out at the intensity. He was deeper than ever, hitting spots that made her see stars, and without the need for quiet, their moans and gasps filled the room.

"Harder," she demanded, pushing back against him. "Don't hold back. I want to feel you for days."

Oliver set a punishing pace, his hips slapping against her ass with each powerful thrust. The sound of skin against skin mixed with their desperate cries, creating a symphony of pleasure that they'd never been able to indulge in before.

"So good," he panted, one hand sliding up her spine to tangle in her hair. "Your pussy feels so perfect around my cock. I love how you take every inch of me."

"More," she gasped, her arms trembling as he pounded into her. "I need more, Oliver. I need everything."

He responded by reaching around to find her clit, circling the sensitive bundle of nerves while maintaining his relentless rhythm. The dual sensation was overwhelming, pushing her rapidly toward an earth shattering climax.

"Come for me," he commanded, his voice rough with his own approaching orgasm. "Let me hear you fall apart. Scream my name, baby."

Heather's orgasm hit her like a freight train, her body convulsing as waves of pleasure crashed over her. She screamed his name just like he'd asked, her pussy clamping down around his cock as she rode out the intense climax.

The feeling of her coming around him triggered Oliver's own release. He buried himself deep and spilled inside her with a harsh groan of her name, his cock pulsing as he filled her completely.

They collapsed onto the bed together, both breathing hard and trembling from the intensity. But even as they caught their breath, Heather could feel Oliver's cock beginning to harden again inside her, and fresh arousal sparked in her belly.

"Again?" she asked with a breathless laugh.

"We have all night," he said, rolling them so she was beneath him. "And I plan to make up for every moment we had to hold back."

He began to move within her again, this time with slow, deep strokes that built the pleasure gradually. They made love with unhurried devotion, celebrating their freedom with whispered endearments and passionate kisses that spoke of forever.

When they finally lay tangled in sheets and satisfaction, both thoroughly exhausted and completely sated, Heather traced lazy patterns on Oliver's chest.

"Want to go to dinner tomorrow?" she asked. "An actual date where we don't have to pretend we're discussing network security?"

"Are you asking me out, Heather?"

"I'm asking you to let me take you somewhere nice and show you off as my boyfriend who helped save the entire organization."

"Boyfriend." Oliver tested the word, liked how it sounded. "Yeah, I could be your boyfriend."

"Good. Because I already made reservations at that Italian place you mentioned wanting to try."

He laughed, pulling her closer. "You were pretty confident I'd say yes."

"I'm good at analyzing data. All indicators suggested a positive response."

"I love you," he said, the words still feeling new and precious.

"I love you too."

Charlie chose that moment to pad into the bedroom, apparently deciding his humans had been alone long enough. The dog settled beside the bed with a contented sigh.

"I think he approves," Heather said.

"Of course he approves. Charlie has excellent taste."

"Must be why he picked you."

"And why I picked you."

"Technically, I picked you first. That day in the coffee shop when I decided you were exactly the expert I needed."

"Technically, Travis picked us both when he decided to destroy everything we cared about."

"Let's not give Travis credit for this." Heather shifted to look at him directly. "We chose each other. Despite the obstacles, despite the danger, despite every reason not to. That's what matters."

Oliver studied her face in the dim light from the street outside. She was right. They'd chosen each other when it would have been easier to walk away, when professional obligations said they shouldn't, when their own fears and past traumas argued against trusting anyone.

"Yeah," he said. "That's what matters."

Tomorrow would bring media attention, team meetings, the slow process of rebuilding after betrayal. But tonight, they were just two people who'd found each other in the midst of chaos and decided to hold on.

It was, Oliver thought as Heather dozed off against his shoulder, more than he'd ever dared to hope for.