But the way she pulled me back in, mouth warm and sure against mine.
Yeah.
It felt a hell of a lot like yes.
Chapter 30
Orla
I’ve spentyears listening to athletes tell me they usually ache the next day after a session with me, but Jesus Christ, I never truly understood the depth of that feeling until this morning. I opened my eyes slowly, just in case I’d imagined the whole thing.
But no, sleeping comfortably and sinfully by the side of me, looking like the cat that got the cream was Tyler fucking Reed. And Tyler fucking Reed had knocked me so far off my axis last night I wasn’t sure I’d ever find the ground again.
Every inch of me was deliciously sore, tender in all the right ways, like my body had finally been shown what it was supposed to feel like. My thighs, my hips, and my throat, all hummed with the aftershocks of him.
I’d never, ever felt anything like what he gave me last night.
He was stretched out beside me, an expanse of warm skin and heavy muscle that took up more than his fair share of the bed. The early light filtered through the gap in the curtains, catching the messy, golden brown of his hair. It was darker at the roots, a rich, toasted shade that looked soft enough to sink my fingers into. A single stray lock had fallen across his forehead,
The sharp, perfect cheekbones that usually looked so arrogant on center court were softened by sleep. His lashes were unexpectedly long and dark, casting tiny, feathered shadows against his skin. God help me, he looked like the only thing I ever wanted to wake up next to again.
Jesus. How quickly things had changed.
I lay there quietly, tracing one of the lines inked across his chest with the tip of my finger, following it to his shoulder, wondering what each one meant, what stories he hadn’t told me yet.
Suddenly his voice rumbled from his chest “I’m surprised you’re still functioning after that,” he murmured, eyes still closed.
I giggled,actuallygiggled, and he pulled me in, kissing me again like he needed it more than breathing.
Fuck. His kisses. All tongue and heat and worship. I practically dissolved against him.
“I love it when I make you giggle like that,” he said, grinning.
I looked up at him and couldn’t fight back my satisfied smile. Those impossible, emerald-green eyes shining like he’d been handed the world. He brushed a strand of hair behind my ear and my stomach fluttered. “That definitely wasn’t part of the rehab plan, right?” I said.
He laughed. “Oh, I’m happy to work on thateveryday.”
I’d forgotten what this felt like. To be wanted and worshiped by someone. To feel like enough.
He brushed his thumb across my cheek, voice dipping into that smooth tone. “Stay right here. Don’t move. Your body’s gonna need caffeine after last night…and after what I’ve got planned for you this morning.”
My breath stumbled. “Tyler.”
His eyes flashed with something wicked. “Yeah, that look. Keep that for later.”
I bit my lip, and he saw it, of course he did. His answering smile was nothing short of devilish.
A minute later, the rattle of the coffee machine drifted from the suite’s lounge. The scent of dark, rich espresso began to cut through the heavy, lingering musk of the night. I stayed in bed, grinning like an idiot, soreness still singing through my bones.
I groped for my phone under the pillow. The group chat was already on fire.
Kate:
Earth to Orla? Are you still alive?
Gwen:
If she doesn’t respond by lunch I’m sending a search party.
