Page 66 of The Way We Touch

Her knees rise, and she bucks against me, meeting my thrusts. Her whimpers turn to low moans, and her body clenches and tightens around my cock. My eyes squeeze shut, and the pleasure radiating through my pelvis is undeniable. I can’t hold back anymore.

Three more thrusts, and I hold, gripping her body as a violent orgasm rips through me. I pulse, filling the condom, and she moans, shuddering beneath me. My arms are around her body, and she’s flush against me. We’re soaring to the highest altitudes together, wrapped in each other’s arms. It’s incredible.

I hold through the final pulses, through her soft whimpers, and as we drift down together, I lift my chin to claim her lips again. Her tongue curls with mine, and it’s so good. It’s everything.

Sliding her hair away from her face with my fingers, I kiss her lips, her cheeks, her damp eyes. “Yep,” I whisper. “This is what we’re doing.”

“It’s going to be hard to be apart.” A wistful note is in her tone.

After that orgasm, I know it’s true, and I’m doing the math on how to get around it.

14

Dylan

“He’s Number 12.” I lean over the iPad looking at the online store for a jersey with Logan’s number on it. “Look, it even has his name!”

“I can’t believe you’re just discovering this.” Craig frowns standing beside me. “They’re all over the stadiums during the games. You really never watch any of them?”

Pain twists in my stomach, and I shake my head. “I still wouldn’t watch them, but it means a lot to him.”

“You don’t like long distance. You don’t like watching football…” He’s counting on his fingers.

“Correction, I’m afraid to watch the men I love play football.” I rub my palms up and down my arms. “I don’t want to see them hurt. And long distance just sucks any way you cut it. But a lot of people do it. What if he was in the military?”

“I suppose.” My friend exhales heavily. “He’d be in scarier situations, and you wouldn’t have the option of visiting him or seeing him on TV.”

“You’re right. That would be worse.” I play with a thread on my sweater.

My bestie straightens, reaching for my hand. “The time will pass so fast. You’ll be teaching and running the restaurant, and he’ll be playing every week and practicing. Hell, you’ll blink, and it will be February.”

“I hope so.”

I’ve never been in this situation, where the thrill of new love twists painfully with the aching dread of separation.

Last night, I slept in his bed, not that we did much sleeping. After our declarations on the beach, he told me how all of my brothers and Craig and Thomas had pretty much threatened his life if he hurt me. It was sweet, and it made me laugh.

It also made me realize I’m a grown woman, and I can sleep with whomever I want in my own house. When I opened my eyes this morning, two strong arms were wrapped tightly around my waist. My head was tucked beneath his chin, and I’d never felt so cherished.

When I had to get up to get ready for work, he playfully wouldn’t let me go. He kissed the top of my shoulder, and it was a shock of joy all the way to my stomach.

I thought about how rigid I used to be. I thought if I made the rule never to date a football player, I’d never be in danger of falling in love with one.

It’s too soon to talk about love. We’re only dating, but it’s there, just waiting to consume me. I can’t. We need to take it slow. We need to get to know each other better, despite all the promises. I will be smart.

“I’ve never even googled him.” I laugh, taking out my phone. “I don’t even follow him on social media!”

“Don’t.” Craig is at my side, eyes wide.

I frown up at him. “Why not? It’s fun.”

Opening my Instagram app, I tap in Logan’s name and navigate over to his profile. I hit the Follow button as soon as I’m there, then I begin to scroll. Image after image of him and different women. One is a statuesque blonde in a shimmering dress. In fact, almost all of them are tall blondes. They’re all so thin, they could be dancers. I spot one brunette like a fly in the buttermilk. She’s wearing a chambray shirt tied at her waist and pantyhose for pants. An inch of light is between her thighs.

“So many models…” I try to laugh, but even I can hear it’s forced. “Oh, he dated Natalia van Norse, the influencer. All the way up to… now.”

“He’s been here a month, so it couldn’t be now.”

My neck is hot, and I wish I had never started down this silly path. “You’re right! It’s really none of my business.”