My place is neat in the way of someone who doesn’t spend much time there. Clean counters. Clear surfaces. Intentional. We drop coats. I pull up the clips, explaining what I notice during games and other Outlaws events there. For example, when attention spikes, when it dips, and what moments people respond to music, lighting, announcements, without realizing why.
She listens. Asks smart questions. Takes mental notes. Moves closer without thinking.
At some point, the conversation slows. Not because we run out of things to say. Because we stop needing to fill the space.
She glances at my mouth like she’s checking a thought she’s already had. Then she looks back up at me. “So,” she says quietly, “are we going to keep pretending we’re focused on analytics… or are you going to repeat that kiss from the other night?”
The decision clicks into place.
When I kiss her, it’s slow and intentional, like we’re both aware this moment matters. Her lips are warm, soft at first, fitting against mine like we’re finding the right pace together. I taste her and it’s something faintly sweet, unmistakably her, as the kiss deepens. She sighs quietly and opens to me, tongue brushing mine in a way that’s exploratory, careful, then more sure. The kiss softens again, a gentle press, a lingering pull, before it deepens once more… slow, deliberate, and full of promise, like this was always the choice, because it was.
The rest unfolds slowly, but not cautiously. It starts with her fingers sliding into the front of my shirt like it’s the most natural thing in the world, warm skin against my ribs, a quiet exhale against my mouth that tells me she wants this, even though I didn’t see it coming. I make a low sound before I can stop myself, and she smiles into the kiss, knowing that she surprised me.
“Hey,” I murmur, more breath than word.
“I know,” she says, soft and steady, lips brushing mine again. “I want this.”
That’s all it takes.
Hands find their way with purpose now, my palms settling at her waist, thumbs tracing slow, unhurried lines like I’m memorizing her. Her mouth learns mine, gentle at first, then deeper, surer, her tongue meeting mine with a confidence that makes my pants tighten. She kisses like she means it, like she’s already decided and sees no reason to hesitate.
We’re already on the couch, close enough that moving feels unnecessary. She shifts first, turning toward me, her knee sliding over my thigh like she’s claiming the space. There’s quiet laughter when we fumble a cushion and sink back into it, her forehead resting against mine for a second as if we’re sharing a private joke. We kiss again and her hands slide over my chest before drifting lower, curious, confident.
And when my fingers brush over her sweater-covered breasts my pants get even tighter. My body reacts, heat pooling, a very real, very immediate problem making itself known between us.
I huff out a quiet laugh, forehead dropping to hers. “Okay,” I murmur. “If we don’t move to the bedroom in the next ten seconds, I’m not going to be able to think straight.”
She smiles like she knew that would happen. “Then we should probably move.”
I take her hand, tugging her gently up with me. Halfway down the hall, my hand slides to her ass, squeezing without thinking. She lets out a soft laugh and swats my hand away.
“Behave,” she says.
“Not a strength of mine in this situation,” I admit.
In the bedroom, I don’t slow down. I kiss her again, deeper this time, backing her toward the bed until she sinks onto it with a soft sound. I tug my shirt over my head immediately, tossing it aside, and she doesn’t hesitate, her hands are on me right away, warm palms sliding over my chest and abs.
“Well,” she murmurs, fingers tracing slowly, “that feels unfair.”
I grin and lean over her, bracing my weight on my forearms. “Occupational hazard.”
I hook my fingers into the hem of her sweater and pull it up and over her head, tossing it aside just as quickly. My gaze drops and sticks. Black lace. Delicate. Intentional.
“Wow,” I say quietly. “You came prepared.”
She arches slightly beneath me, eyes bright. “The panties match.”
I unhook her bra. Fuck, she’s hot. I begin to kiss her breasts, cupping one with my hand and taking the other nipple in my mouth, teasing it with my tongue. She shudders and moans, as she slips her fingers through my hair, holding my mouth on her.
I am so turned on right now, I might just explode. "Sloane, you are so sexy." I growl in her ear.
"Is that so, Captain?" she says as she traces her hand toward my pants and touches my cock over my jeans.
My mouth moves downward over her other breast, stomach, hips, to the waist of her pants. Time to remove them.
"Let's get these off," I say, as she slips out of her jeans and lays back down. What a sight...Sloane in nothing but black lace skimpy panties that already look wet with her excitement.
"Wow, you came prepared. These are gonna kill me." I say.
