Page 64 of Put a Rink on It

“You got condoms?”

My hopes deflate. “The truth, right?” I wait for her to nod. “I don’t know. I’m clean. I’ll pull out. You on birth control?”

I’m too frustrated—fuckstrated, actually—to let not having one stop me.

“You trust I’m clean?”

“I trust you with my life, Marina. Where are we on the birth control?” I grab for her wrist, practically yanking her up the stairs.

“We’re back to this ‘we’ thing, are we?”

At my wit’s end, I bring her into my arms, cupping her face with my palms. “Marina Keeley, quiet your wiseass and answer the damn question. Yes or no.”

“Yep, I’m on birth control.”

“Best news ever.” My hands grab her ass and lift. Like a good girl, she wraps her legs around my waist as I take off for my bedroom.

“Nero, slow down a little,” she chastises. “We have all night.”

I meet her gaze. “Do we?”

“Yes. Where else do we have to go?”

While she’s not wrong, I don’t want to slow down. I don’t want to wait to have her. I’m going out of my skin at the mere thought of this happening, of getting this chance with her.

Of having sex with Marina Keeley again after all these years.

I pick up the pace with careful movements up the stairs. No one needs an injury. “No.”

“No?” Her brows furrow. “That doesn’t answer my question.”

“No, I’m not gonna slow down now. Once we start, we can go slow.”

Fat chance.

With the way I’m feeling, I’ll be lucky not to come the moment I push inside her. Not that I can let her in on that secret. For once, I keep the thoughts inside the bubble of my mind, not letting them out.

We breach the threshold of my room, and I lower her to the unmade bed from my nap, sucking in a breath at what’s about to happen. Maybe “slow” isn’t a bad idea.

“Still not weird, right? Even this?” I ask to gauge where she’s at. She gives nothing to imply she’s worried or nervous, but if she puts the brakes on, I’ll respect her.

And then have to jerk off in the shower.

“It’s not,” she confirms. “Because it’s us.” She raises the hoodie over her head, leaving her in a tank top. Purple, one of the Nauts’ colors. As if I’m not turned on enough, this is more torturous. She shimmies out of her leggings, her panties the same shade as the tank.

“Are those new?” I speak over the lump in my throat.

She glances down. “New-ish. Maybe within the last month. Why?”

“They’re purple.”

Her expression shows confusion, but then a light bulb goes off. “I got them right before you were traded. Irony or coincidence?”

I stride to the bed, the mattress depressing under my knees. “A conversation for later. Remove them.” She doesn’t balk at the gravel in my voice, and the tank disappears.

I sit back on my thighs, waiting, watching her every move, my arousal ratcheting higher by the millisecond. She wastes no time discarding her panties, leaving her completely bare in front of me.

And what a sight.