I still hadn’t from that first time. Silas made love to me like there was no tomorrow, but I wasn’t going anywhere.
Maybe I wouldn’t be in this bed again for a while, but despite what I was risking or how I’d avoided getting too close to a man for my entire life, Silas had me.
I had no energy or intention to keep fighting the inevitable.
“Look at me,” he growled out, slipping a hand between us to draw circles on my clit. I couldn’t possibly come again. Being able to do it before had to have been a fluke.
I raised my gaze, clenching my eyes shut as he rolled his hips and smacked the side of my ass hard enough to make a loud crack.
Stars burst in front of my eyelids as I fell over the edge, Silas spilling into me until he dropped beside me on the mattress with a soft bounce.
“I think you’re the one with the magic. In fact, I think you’re going to kill me.”
I felt his chuckle as he buried his head into the pillow, reaching for me before he lifted his head.
“This means you’re mine, right?” he said, holding my gaze as he pinched the edge of his jersey, now balled up at my side.
It was kind of ridiculous. Me, in my mid-thirties, wearing the jersey of a baseball team manager—or lying on it, as the case was now—shouldn’t have felt so official or so…right.
But it did.
“Yes.” I looped my arms around his neck. “That’s exactly what it means.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
SILAS
“I’m actuallysurprised you had a blanket,” Rachel said as she cuddled next to me on the couch. “I figured the one comforter on your bed was it.”
She peered up at me, lifting a brow.
I’d ordered dinner from the Chinese restaurant around the corner, wishing I could take Rachel out to celebrate but not sure what to do yet if someone saw us. The guys had found a few photos online of me walking around the neighborhood during the rare moments I was home and not too exhausted to go for a walk.
I’d been photographed in Washington too, but because of the Bats getting my face out there whenever they could, the feeling of being watched all the damn time was something new, and something I didn’t want to involve Rachel in yet.
I hated the shit out of it, but sneaking around was what we had to do, at least for right now. The last thing we needed was for someone to post a picture of us, find out who Rachel was, and have her bosses find out before we had a chance to make a plan.
Granted, fingering her in my car and letting her blow me after wasn’t our smartest move, and I hoped that wasn’t a mistake we’d end up paying for.
“I have blankets, different sheets. Dishes.” I held up the plate of lo mein. “Just because I don’t put them all out doesn’t mean I don’t have the basics.” I kissed the tip of her nose.
“Well, that makes me feel a little better.” She crossed her legs under her, still wearing my jersey with nothing underneath. I was sending it home with her because there was no way I’d be able to put that one on and focus on the game. Her naked body splayed out on my bed, the sounds she made when she came…my dick would be too busy reliving the memories for me to manage a damn thing.
“Does your job know that you write?”
“They do. I’m lucky that my boss thinks it’s a secret asset. A published author writes our promotional pieces. And she’s supportive of romance. Some places will just fire you for it. That’s why a few author friends don’t show their faces.”
“They’re cool with that, but not…this?”
She shut her eyes and nodded.
“No. I’m hoping that I can sit down with Gayle and explain that I’m not having a tawdry affair with a married client that would soil our reputation again. Having a boyfriend is different from having a fuck buddy.”
She reached toward my coffee table to grab an egg roll and froze, cringing when she turned back to me.
“Why the face?”
“I just called you my boyfriend. Talk about a slip.”
