She breaks the kiss just long enough to tease, "You realize they're gonna come looking for you, right? You disappearing after a win? They'll assume you got kidnapped."
I rest my forehead against hers, still a little breathless. "Let them look. Tell them I was busy doing charity work—feeding my soul."
Her eyebrows arch. "Feeding your soul?"
"Uh-huh," I say, grinning. "It's starving. Needs constant replenishment. Preferably through your lips."
She smacks my chest lightly, laughing. "You're ridiculous."
"Ridiculously in love with you," I counter before she can roll her eyes, which she does anyway, but she's smiling when she pulls me back in.
The music downstairs surges again—someone must've found the team playlist—but all I can think about is how her laugh vibrates against my mouth and how every kiss with her feels like winning all over again.
One second we're kissing, laughing, her hands tugging at my jersey, mine lost somewhere in her hair—and the next, it's like the world tilts. The room fades. The noise downstairs turns into distant static.
I don't even know how it happens—just that it does.
Somewhere between her laugh and my next breath, the space between us disappears completely.
And now we're here, breathless, tangled in the kind of closeness that makes every inch of my skin feel alive. My heart's pounding like it's still chasing that final goal.
She's looking at me, those gorgeous aquamarine eyes catching the dim light, and for a second I forget every word I've ever known.
She's not just my world.
She's the whole damn universe—the gravity that keeps me from spinning off the edge.
Her breath hitches, hot and fucking wet against my neck, her lips brushing my skin as if she can't decide whether to kiss me or devour me whole. Every sound she make—those soft, broken whimpers—feel like a goddamn flame licking up my spine, burning me alive.
She is sprawled beneath me, her body a fucking masterpiece of curves and heat, her thighs trembling like she is one sweet stroke away from coming undone.
"Caroline," I growl, my voice rough, gravelly, like I've been gargling whiskey and sin.
Her name tastes like honey on my tongue, and I want more—more of her, more of this, more of the way she's fucking melting under me like I am the only thing that mattered.
Her eyes—those fucking eyes—lock onto mine, wide and wild, pupils blown with need. She is staring at me like I am her fucking salvation, like she will drown if I don't keep her afloat.
And Christ, I want to drown with her. Want to sink so deep into her I forget my own goddamn name.
"Just keep looking at me like that," I whisper, my lips brushing hers, teasing, taunting. "Keep looking at me like I'm everything, baby. Feels like I could live a hundred lifetimes in your eyes and still never get enough."
Her hands claw at my shoulders, nails digging into my skin just hard enough to leave marks.
She arches her back, pressing her breasts against my chest, and holy fuck, she is soft. So soft. My cock throbs, hard and aching, trap between us, begging for release.
I could feel her heat through the thin fabric of her panties, her pussy is wet and ready, dripping for me.
"Zach," she moans, and the way she says my name—low, desperate, like a fucking prayer—sent a bolt of pure, unrelenting lust straight to my dick.
I can't think, can't breathe, can't do anything but grind against her, feeling her body yield to mine like she is made for me.
Her lips part, her tongue darting out to wet them, and I fucking lost it.
I capture her mouth in a savage kiss, our tongues tangling like we are trying to claim each other, to mark each other as ours forever.
She moans into my mouth, the sound vibrating through me, and I swear to fucking God, I've never been so hard in my life.
I whisper against her mouth, barely holding myself together.
