His lips landed on mine as his large, warm hands came up to cradle my cheeks. He angled his head as he ran his tongue along my lips, and then he dived right in and kissed me like he’d been on edge all day, just waiting in breathless anticipation for me to give him permission. It felt like he’d snapped, like my taunting words were the command he’d been waiting for, and now it wason.
Dear God, I suddenly didn’t need a shower because every part of my body that’d been cold a moment ago was on fire, every cell in my body warming as his mouth worked confidently and feverishly, like he was trying to convince me of something.
I dropped the towels and reached for him, sliding my handsaround his shoulders, needing to hold him in place so this moment could last forever.
It was too perfect.
It was white-hot and ravenous, like we were both feral and rabid and desperate for more, but at the same time, I was cocooned in sweet feelings for this man who had dry clothing for me and knelt in the mud so he could look tiny footballers in the eye when he spoke to them.
“Distefano,” he murmured, taking my bottom lip between his teeth in a way that made me squeak and melt, all at the same time.
“Mmmm…Cunningham,” I managed to reply, uttering his name on a sigh as he lowered his head and pressed his mouth to the sensitive skin on my neck.
“Say that again,” he growled against my throat, “in the exact same way, Duff.”
“Why?” I teased, lost in the sensation of his tongue on my skin as I let my head fall to the side.
“Just fucking do it, honey,” he said, nipping at my neck in the most delightful way. “I’m begging.”
“Mmmm…Connor,” I said, and he rewarded me by bringing his mouth back to mine and kissing me deeper and hotter than I’d ever been kissed.
All I could do was hold on tight and let myselffeelas his mouth destroyed me and his strong hands lifted me, setting me on the countertop where I had no choice but to wrap my legs around him and pull him in even closer.
Dear God.
The man made me feel like the world might end if I couldn’t have more.
Gimme more.
I almost didn’t hear the beeping—I was too lost in the magic of what his mouth was doing to mine—but Connor did. He cursed against my lips before pulling back and silencing his watch alarm.
“Dammit, I don’t want to go pack,” he said, his eyes still hot and glazed with desire as he looked down at me. “But I have to.”
“So pack already,” I said, feeling drunk on him as he looked at me likethat, like he was struggling to pull away from me. “You don’t want to miss the flight, and I don’t want to miss my opportunity to use your fancy shower. Get out of this bathroom right now, Cunningham.”
“My Duff,” he murmured, his mouth coming back to nip at my bottom lip. “So bossy.”
My Duff.
There was no way I was going to survive him.
I showered quickly, which was difficult when his shower was the size of my bedroom. I wanted to linger, to languish under the hot steam, but we were on a timer. I slid into the sweats he’d left me, and by the time I wandered into the living room, he was ready to go.
He dropped me off at my house—not without another lingering kiss—and as soon as I closed the front door, I became a ridiculously giggly version of myself, like I was transported back to middle school. After feeding Dale, I drove to United and spent the rest of the afternoon in my dad’s hospital room, watchingcollege football with him, but my brain was stuck on Connor’s kiss.
Because if we hadn’t been on a timer, I knew we wouldn’t have stopped.
I knew, without a doubt, that we would’ve ended up together in his enormous bed.
And even though I was terrified of my feelings and getting my hopes up, it really felt like we were becomingsomething, date or no date.
He’d warned me he wouldn’t be able to text me that night because they had a team dinner and then he had a pregame ritual where he kept focused by watching game film in his room and listening to music, so I hung out with Dale and studied.
On Sunday morning my dad was released, which was perfect timing for us to watch the game together at home. We both screamed our heads off despite his health condition because it went down to overtime, but once again, the team got it done.
The defense double-teamed Connor, so he didn’t have any opportunity to score, but a win was a win. I told myself not to bother him, not to reach out because I didn’t want to seem too eager, so it made me absurdly giddy when he texted an hour after the game ended.
Connor:Notes?
