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VICTORIA

M y eyes flit open at the press of warm lips against my bare shoulder, the scratch of morning stubble sending pleasant shivers down my spine.

“Caught you,” Declan murmurs, his sleep-rough voice rumbling against my skin. “You were smiling in your sleep.”

Rolling over to face him, I blink away dreams to find Declan propped on one elbow, watching me with those impossibly blue eyes. Sunlight filters through blinds I forgot to close, painting stripes across his tousled hair and the rumpled sheets tangled around us.

“Was I?” I stretch, feeling pleasantly achy in all the right places. “Maybe I was dreaming about winning the lottery.”

“Hmm.” His fingers trace lazy patterns along my collarbone. “And here I thought you were dreaming about me.”

It’s been less than a week since that kiss in the parking garage changed everything, just days since our confrontation in Natalie’s restaurant where Declan vowed to ‘orgasm me into submission’ until I admitted we belong together. His ridiculous declaration shouldn’t have worked, but here I am anyway, surrendering one piece of armor at a time.

“I don’t know. Maybe I’m dreaming right now.”

He has a faint pillow crease on his cheek, his expression relaxed and unguarded in a way that sends a wave of tenderness through me that’s almost frightening in its intensity.

“Like what you see?” he teases, catching me staring.

“Maybe,” I counter, trying for nonchalant but failing miserably when he grins.

“Only maybe? I’m losing my touch.” He pulls me closer, nuzzling into my neck. “Guess I’ll have to try harder.”

His stubble tickles my sensitive skin, making me squirm and laugh. “Stop it! You know I’m ticklish.”

“I do know that.” His voice takes on a wicked edge. “And I know a few other things about you, too.” His hand slides up my side, touch deliberately light. “Like how you make that little gasp when I kiss you right... here.” His lips find the spot below my ear that sends shivers down my spine, and I can’t suppress a small sound of pleasure.

“Declan,” I warn, but my words lack any intensity.

“Victoria,” he mimics my tone, pulling back with that heart-stopping smile. “Do we have anywhere to be this morning?”

I think for a moment. “I’m meeting the girls for a spa day at two. You?”

“Team meeting at noon, but that’s hours away.” His hand slides lower, tracing the curve of my hip. “Whatever shall we do to pass the time?”

The heat in his eyes makes my breath catch. “I’m sure we’ll think of something.”

“I’ve got a few ideas already,” he murmurs, capturing my mouth in a kiss that starts gentle but quickly deepens.

When Declan kisses me like this, the world narrows to pure sensation. The weight of him above me, the warmth of his skin against mine, the delicious friction as his body moves with purpose. There’s a hunger between us that doesn’t fade, no matter how many times we come together.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he breathes against my collarbone.

“You need glasses,” I tease, though his obvious appreciation makes me feel beautiful in a way no mirror ever has.

“My vision is perfect,” he counters. “And you, Victoria Fletcher, are perfect too.”

His hand slips between us, finding me already ready for him. I gasp as his fingers explore until I’m arching against him, desperate for more.

“Declan, please,” I whisper, spreading my legs in invitation.

He rolls me to my side and positions himself at my entrance. Our eyes lock as he pushes forward, filling me completely. The stretch makes me moan, fingers digging into his shoulders.

“You feel so good,” he murmurs, voice strained with the effort of holding still. “Every. Single. Time.”

I rock as he thrusts, urging him deeper. “Move,” I command softly.

He sets a rhythm that’s neither rushed nor leisurely. Each thrust sends sparks of pleasure through me as I match his movements, grinding my hips, losing myself in the connection.

There’s something different about morning sex with Declan. A lazy intimacy that feels even more personal. The soft light adds gentleness, making everything more vivid yet somehow more tender. He watches me closely, like he wants to remember every tiny expression as he pushes us closer to the edge.

“I love this,” I whisper, almost reverently. “I love us.”

The words slip out before I can catch them, and for a heartbeat, my stomach drops. Too much, too soon. Did I really just say that? But then the look on Declan’s face makes saying them feel right. He captures my mouth again, swallowing my little cries as his pace quickens. I clutch him tighter, losing myself in the rhythm until the pressure inside me explodes into bliss.

“Oh, my god yes—right there—” My voice breaks as I shatter around him.

Declan follows me over the edge, groaning my name with one final thrust. His body trembles above mine, and I wrap my arms around his neck, holding him close as our breathing slows.

“Stay,” I whisper, not ready to lose the weight of him.

“Not going anywhere,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to my temple before shifting to the side, tugging me close to him so we remain connected. We trade lazy kisses over my shoulder as our heartbeats gradually slow.

Eventually, Declan pulls back just enough to look at me, a smile playing at his lips. “I love this and us, too.”

Something warm unfurls in my chest. It would be so easy to picture this becoming my everyday reality—waking up with Declan, sharing sleepy kisses, making love before starting our day. A life where ‘I love this, I love us’ becomes something deeper, more permanent.

Heat rushes to my cheeks as I realize how my words must have sounded. While I didn’t quite say those three little words, I came dangerously close—closer than I’ve been with anyone before. Part of me wants to explain, but the tenderness in Declan’s eyes stops me. He understood exactly what I meant.

I roll to face him and hide my face against his chest. “I can’t believe I said that.”

His chuckle rumbles against my ear. “What? That you love this?” His fingers trace patterns on my bare shoulder. “Because I’m pretty sure the neighbors three doors down heard how much you loved it.”

I swat his arm. “You really are impossible.”

“Impossibly good in bed,” he corrects with that cocky grin. “At least according to the sounds you were making.”

“I wasn’t that loud,” I protest weakly, even as memories of my unrestrained cries filter back.

“You absolutely were,” Declan says, voice dropping to a husky whisper. “And I loved every single sound. The way you gasp when I first push inside you. That little whimper when I hit just the right spot. The way my name sounds when you’re right on the edge.”

“Stop,” I groan, burying my face deeper against his chest. The worst part is I can’t even deny it. Declan has this uncanny ability to draw reactions from me I’ve never experienced before—sounds and sensations I didn’t know my body could produce.

He tilts my chin up, making me meet his gaze. “Why are you embarrassed? I think it’s incredible that you’re so responsive, so uninhibited with me.”

I bite my lip. His thumb brushes my cheek, a gesture so tender it makes my heart ache. There’s something about how Declan looks at me that makes me feel both completely exposed and utterly safe.

“It’s just...” I search for words. “I’ve never been like this with anyone before. So... wild. So loud.” I let out a shaky breath. “It’s a little terrifying, honestly.”

“Terrifying?” he repeats, brow furrowing.

“Losing control,” I explain. “Showing so much of myself. Saying things in the heat of the moment that I might not be ready to say.”

Understanding dawns in his eyes. “You mean like when you said you love this, love us.”

I nod, gaze dropping to a small freckle on his collarbone. “I didn’t mean to blurt that out. I just... in that moment, it felt true.” I look up at him again. “But I don’t want you to think I’m rushing into something I’m not ready for.”

Declan tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “Victoria, I would never hold something you say in the throes of passion against you. Besides, saying you love what we share doesn’t mean you’re promising me forever.” His lips quirk up. “Though I wouldn’t complain if you were.”

The lightness in his tone eases the tension building in me. “You’re very understanding.”

“I’m just happy to be here with you,” he says simply. “Whatever this is, wherever it’s going.”

His sincerity threatens to overwhelm me. How does he say exactly the right thing, exactly when I need to hear it?

My stomach chooses that moment to growl audibly, breaking the intensity. I laugh. “Well, that was elegant.”

“Hungry?” Declan asks, eyes crinkling at the corners.

“Starving. I worked up quite an appetite.”

Declan rolls out of bed in one fluid motion, gloriously naked and completely unselfconscious. “Let’s see what you’ve got to work with.”

I follow him to the kitchen after pulling on his discarded shirt. He gives me an appreciative once-over.

“Looking way better on you than it ever did on me.”

A quick inventory of my refrigerator reveals almost nothing—some condiments, milk, and half a lemon. My grocery shopping has been nonexistent lately.

“Seems I’m low on supplies,” I sigh as he holds up a jar of pickles.

“How do you feel about pickle pancakes?”

I wrinkle my nose. “Pass.”

He checks the freezer and pulls out a lone frozen pizza with visible triumph. “Breakfast of champions!”

“That doesn’t exactly scream morning meal,” I say skeptically.

Declan pops it in the toaster oven before advancing toward me with a brightness in his eyes.

“What is that look?” I back away slightly, but he’s quick to follow and wrap an arm around my middle.

“We have exactly twenty minutes to spare.”

His mouth lands on mine, and what follows is a quick but intense encounter on my kitchen counter that leaves both of us breathless and laughing—and the pizza nearly burned.

For a few glorious minutes, it feels like nothing can touch us. No doubts. No deadlines. Just this. Us.

“You know,” he says once we’re finally eating, “we have a four-game road trip starting after tonight’s game.”

“I remember,” I reply, sipping my coffee. “Rockets, Fury, Bombers, and Sharks, right?”

“Got it in one,” he confirms, looking pleased. “We’ll be gone for five days.” He takes a bite of pizza, not meeting my eyes. “You should come with us.”

I nearly choke. “What?”

“On the road trip,” he clarifies. “You’re part of the training staff. It wouldn’t be unusual.”

I study his face carefully. “That’s... different from what we’ve been doing.”

“I know.” He chews slowly. “But I’ve been thinking about it. You could be on hand to make sure we’re doing our recovery exercises properly, and the rest of the time”—his voice drops—“we’d have a hotel room all to ourselves.”

The look he gives me sends heat flooding through me, quickly followed by anxiety. Being on the road means media coverage, team events, visibility. It means stepping outside our comfortable bubble.

“Declan, I don’t know,” I begin, but he slides another piece of pizza onto my plate, derailing my train of thought.

“Just think about it,” he suggests. “Imagine a whole week of sharing breakfast with me in fancy hotels.”

“I’m not sure team management would appreciate us doing that on their dime.” I laugh, trying to lighten the mood.

“They wouldn’t bat an eye. Sara travels with the team for social media. Olivia comes as medical staff. Even Natalie flies in for games when she can get away from the restaurant.”

I arch an eyebrow. “You’ve really thought this through.”

“I might have consulted with Luc,” he admits with a boyish smile. “I just really don’t want to go a whole week without you.”

The naked honesty in his voice steals my breath. It would be so easy to say yes, to fall deeper without questioning where it leads. But I’ve spent so long guarding my heart...

“What about media coverage? Photographers at the hotel, fans recognizing you...”

“I’ll keep you out of the spotlight,” he promises, reaching for my hand. “You can wear your training staff gear like for games. I’ll keep my distance in public.” His eyes search mine. “Besides, the media focuses on the games, not who’s sitting in the hotel lobby.”

“I don’t know,” I say again, though with less conviction. The thought of five days without Declan already creates an uncomfortable hollow feeling in my chest. “It’s a big step.”

“I know,” he says softly. “That’s why I’m asking, not assuming. Just... think about it? We leave after tonight’s game.”

I nod, grateful he’s not pushing harder. “I’ll think about it.”

I watch him devour his second slice of pizza. It’s still surreal seeing this gorgeous man in my tiny kitchen, wearing nothing but boxers, hair rumpled from my hands.

“What?” Declan asks, catching me staring.

“Nothing. Just thinking.”

“About?” Those blue eyes never leave mine.

“How unexpected this all is,” I gesture between us.

His mouth quirks up. “Good unexpected or bad unexpected?”

“Good,” I admit, surprising myself with how easily the truth comes. “Definitely good.”

The genuine happiness in his expression makes it harder to remember all the reasons I should be cautious.

“I should shower and get ready for the team meeting,” he says, rising to clear our plates. “Care to join me?”

I smile at his invitation. “If I join you, you’ll definitely be late.”

“Worth it,” he says, extending his hand.

I take it, letting him pull me to my feet and into his arms. Looking up at him, I realize with startling clarity that I’d follow this man anywhere—to hotel rooms in rival cities, to championships, perhaps even straight into all the messy, unpredictable things I’ve spent years avoiding. The thought should terrify me, but instead, I feel the sweet surrender of finally letting myself want more.

“Do you promise you’ll protect me?” I ask, voice barely above a whisper.

He pulls back slightly, expression turning serious. “From the press? Abso-fucking-lutely.”

I take a steadying breath. “Then yes.”

“Yes?” His eyes widen, hope and excitement dawning. “You’ll come on the road with me?”

“Yeah. Seems I don’t like the idea of spending a week without you, either.”

His face breaks into that heart-stopping grin before he suddenly sweeps me into his arms, making me yelp in surprise.

“Oh, twinkle toes,” he declares, carrying me toward the bathroom with determination. “I’m gonna soap you up real good.”

I throw my head back and laugh, earlier concerns fading into certainty that this man wants me as much as I want him. And there’s nothing to be afraid of anymore.