I needed to go back to the office, pour another coffee, and work until the words blurred together so badly that I had no choice but to call it a night.
That’s what I would have done before.
Butbeforehad been empty. Years spent telling myself the work was enough, never really stopping to think about what I wanted.
What Ineeded.
And that was what sealed it for me.
Because I needed Taylor.
“Yes,” I said.
It came out so easily. No deliberation. Just … yes.
Like the choice was simple.
Like I was someone for whom it could be.
CHAPTER 22
SEBASTIAN
Taylor flickedon his blinker at the stop sign. “Hendricks is going to review the game film tomorrow. See if Monroe and I have what it takes to keep the pairing.”
“You do.”
He glanced at me quickly, his eyebrows raised, before making a left turn. “You don't know that.”
“No, but Ethan does, and he said you worked well together. Something about Monroe taking risks, and you minding the defensive zone. He also said that Bell said you’re killing it at practice, already playing better than last year.”
Taylor’s smile was bright, even in profile. “Well, all right then.”
At the next red light, his hand found mine, his thumb brushing over my knuckles. The touch wasn’t remotely sexual, but by the time we pulled into his driveway twenty minutes later, I was practically vibrating.
Taylor killed the engine and turned to me. “I’m really glad you came tonight.”
“Me too,” I said, reaching for the handle. "But I really need you, so get your ass inside."
We launched ourselves from the car and up the path to the front door. Taylor fumbled the key twice before it slid home. I grabbed his suit jacket and pulled him to me, kicking the door shut behind us.
The kiss was deep and hungry, all tongues and teeth and days of pent-up horniness rising to the surface.
Taylor made a desperate sound and crowded me back against the wall, his hands framing my face.
“Missed you so fucking much,” he mumbled between kisses, his breath hot against my mouth. “Down here or upstairs?”
I thought briefly about the couch, about the quick release we could have there. But I was greedy and wanted to take my time with him.
“Upstairs, definitely.”
We shed our clothes along the way—our shoes kicked off in the hallway, his suit jacket tossed on the newel post, my coat on the floor of the upstairs landing, our pants and underwear discarded just outside the bedroom door.
We tumbled onto his bed, limbs tangling. Taylor rolled us over so that I was on top, his hands sliding down my back, his fingers digging into the globes of my ass. “You're fucking me tonight.”
My dick throbbed at the confidence in that statement.
He’d enjoyed himself the one time I’d topped him, but hadn’t asked for it again. Not that I was complaining. The last time Taylor had fucked me, I came so hard I saw stars behind my eyelids.
