I open the door, prepared to be tough. Prepared to handle the it’s time to end this speech that she surely plans to hurl in my direction on her pit stop to her appointment.

But that strategy flies onto the street when I see her. She stands on my porch, a December breeze whipping her dark hair around her face. A black skirt is painted on and her boots are so tall she looks like she can slay dragons in them. A leather jacket completes the sexy-as-a-rock-star look.

Her lips shine, like she just slicked on gloss.

For a split second, I read her like I’d do another team. Like she’s the enemy. In those eyes I find determination, hardness, an edge that wasn’t present the last time I saw her.

But then her gaze wanders, drifts down my body, and maybe she’s inventorying me like I just did to her, taking in my jeans, bare feet, and charcoal-gray Henley shirt.

When she returns to my eyes, the cool veneer is gone. In hers, I see heat.

I see a spark.

I see my girl.

But neither one of us say anything, and it feels as if we’re facing off. Like something happened when I was out of town. Or maybe something happened when I bolted from her home last week.

She breaks the silence, raising her chin. “Your hair is a mess. You still need a trim.”

I run my hands through unruly locks. “I’ll make an appointment. Unless you’re too booked.”

“I’ll see if I can fit you in.”

That feels like the operative phrase. Like she’s fucking fitting me into her life. “You’re welcome anytime. Besides, the lease is signed. Woo-hoo!”

She thrusts her arms in the air in victory, and I smile, then lift her up in celebration. A soft sigh escapes her lips the moment we touch, and that’s all it takes. I carry her inside, shut the door with my foot, and push her up against the back of it. I hear the faint sound of my phone ringing on the couch, but I ignore it.

Then it happens. All at once. Our lips crash together. We kiss fiercely, like we’re ravenous. Her scent—peaches and cool December air—intoxicates me. It unravels me. All my plans to talk to her, to tell her how I feel, become secondary to the heat of her body. To the feel of her soft, sexy lips. To the way my pulse spikes and my blood heats being this close to her.

Talk. What’s that? I can’t even string words together. All I can manage are grunts and growls. This is primal. This is physical. This is so fucking intense as I push against her and kiss those lips that own me.

I thread my hands through her hair. “Vi, I thought about you so much.”

She breathes out hard, nodding as she drops her purse to the floor. “Me, too. You, that is.”

I push her skirt to her hips. My gaze drifts down, and my throat is dry. She wears pink panties with white foxes on them.

I can’t speak.

I’ve been reduced to nothing but muscles and blood and heat and desire. That’s all that works in me, and it’s working in overdrive. My hand slides between those gorgeous thighs, then across her panties, and I’m done.

She’s so fucking wet.

“Need to get these off,” I mutter, and she nods vigorously.

“Yes. Off.”

I kneel, tugging her panties down, helping her step out of them in her high-heeled boots, while she shrugs off her jacket. She wears a pink sweater, and I could fucking die. She’s so sexy. She’s so pretty. She’s so mine.

But she’s not mine.

She’s only mine for now, and I’ll take what I can get. As soon as I stand, she grabs at the hem of my shirt, and I yank it off.

I pat the back of my jeans for my wallet, but it’s on the kitchen counter. Besides, I’m honestly not sure I have a condom in it. It’s been months since I needed one.

“Vi,” I say, heavily. “I don’t think I have a—”

“—I do.”

She grabs her purse and snags a condom in five seconds flat.

“You’re prepared,” I say, surprised for some reason that she’s carrying.

She levels me with her gaze, her eyes intense and her tone brutally honest, it seems. “Cooper, I’ve been prepared for this since the first night at your house. I’ve been ready for a long time.”

Those words grab hold of me, touching my heart, rekindling my hope. I try not to read too much into them, but they feel so true. I take the condom from her hand as she lets go of her purse, and I kiss her once more. “I’ve been ready for a long time, too,” I say softly.

A desperate oh comes from her, and I sweep my thumb over her lips, almost as if I can catch the sound, hold it close, keep her.

I look down to tear open the condom when I feel a hand on my shoulder. “Are you sure? The superstitions and all that stuff?”

I don’t know the answer, but I also don’t care. “I don’t care. You’re all I want.” I unzip my jeans, push them to my hips, and roll on the condom as she watches with wide, hungry eyes. My phone bleats again from the couch. “I don’t care who’s calling. I don’t care about anything else right now.”

“I don’t care about anything else, either,” she says, in a breathless rush, and I know we said we’d talk after the game, I know there are so many things to discuss, but I need this woman more than words.

I need her right now against the door.

God bless her high-heeled boots. All I have to do is bend my knees slightly and we line up. I rub the head of my cock against her sweet, hot pussy. She trembles, and I shudder. I’m not even inside her, and I’m shaking. I’m fucking shaking with desire.

She loops her arms around my neck, and I look into her eyes. I nearly tell her right now that I’m madly in love with her. I bite back the words, murmuring only a desperate “you’re so beautiful” as I grip the bottom of her thigh, hiking her leg up and over my hip.

A shuddering gasp is her response, and then I sink into her.

The most sensual oh I’ve ever heard falls on my ears. It sweeps over my whole body.

And I know. I just know. Nothing compares to this.

This is heaven.

I still myself before I’m all the way in, sensations rocketing inside me, but it’s more than just the physical. It’s the overwhelmingness of this moment. I’ve thought about this. I’ve imagined it. I’ve longed for it.

Now it’s here.

“Vi,” I whisper, and that one syllable comes out reverently.

“Oh God,” she whimpers, and her body goes softer in my arms, as if she’s falling into me. She’s paradise, so warm and tight, and she grips me so intensely I feel like I could come now. That’s not permissible, though, so I squeeze my eyes shut and count to three. I push in deeper, and she wraps her leg tighter around me. She whimpers as I nestle my cock all the way inside her. The sound she makes sends shockwaves through my blood.

I stroke into her, heat blasting through all my cells, sparks flying across my skin as I look at her, as I stare into those eyes that don’t stray from me, either. Nothing has ever felt like this. This good. This intense. This necessary.

With one hand holding her leg firmly, I raise my other hand to her face, and grip her chin.

She gasps, and it almost sounds like a cry. Like a wonderfully needy plea for me.

The world slows.

The city fades to a distant blur.

Time ceases to matter.

Her eyes stay locked with mine, and I swear, I fucking swear, she’s unmasked right now. I can see everything in her eyes. She looks at me like she feels all the same things I do. I see my emotions reflected as she holds on tight.

“Vi, baby. It’s never been like this.”

“I know.” Her voice sounds as if it’s breaking.

I thrust, and a shudder wracks my whole damn body. “Never.”

She swallows, keeping her gaze on me. She has to feel it, too. She has to know. She has to get it. This isn’t sex. This isn’t a wild fuck against my door. This is two people who are meant to be together.

I pull back, then push back in. I do it again, filling her all the way, and stilling myself inside her.

She bites down hard on her lip, and her back bows, her chest pressing against me. It’s the most seductive thing I’ve ever seen. Pleasure spikes in me as I move in her. As I stroke. As I fuck. As I watch her, my hand tight on her jaw, her eyes locked on me. At one point, I go so deep, she nearly screams, then her eyes float closed.

That won’t do. “Look at me,” I demand.

She squeezes her eyes then opens them. “I’m looking at you. I can’t stop looking at you.”

“Fuck, baby,” I mutter as I yank her closer, fucking her hard and deep. “Do you feel it?” I rasp out as I stroke into her.

She manages a desperate nod. “I feel it all.”

Her head falls back, her neck stretched long and inviting, her words landing on my ears.

So good.

So close.

More.

Deeper.

You.

Coming.

Oh God, I’m coming.

She trembles. Her shoulders shake, and she cries out in pleasure. That’s enough for me. I need nothing more. I’m there with her, my own orgasm insisting on appearing right fucking now as my thighs quake, and my balls tighten, and I come hard and deep inside her, filling the condom.

I groan for what feels like minutes. She does, too. We pant and moan, and come down from the highest high. My hand is still curved on her face, gripping her jaw, and when I let go, I realize I’ve held her so hard, I left fingerprints on her chin. “You okay? Did I hurt you?”

She shakes her head. “No.” Her voice is like a feather. “It only feels good.”

Gently, I slide out of her and excuse myself for the bathroom. After I toss the condom, clean up, and zip my jeans, I return to the living room, but she’s not there. Her purse is gone, too, and my heart stops beating. Fear takes over, and I actually look out the bay window to see if she’s pulled off a dine and dash.

I spot her green car parked right outside, and another car pulls up in front of it.

Why the hell would I think she’s taken off? Maybe because we still haven’t talked. We still haven’t figured out what we’re doing.

Her heels click across my floor, and I turn around, my breath coming fast. “I thought you left.”

She narrows her eyes. “I’m not going to just take off without saying goodbye.”

“I know. I’m going crazy.”

She hooks her thumb in the direction of one of the bathrooms. “I was straightening up. I have an appointment. Remember?”

“Right, yeah.” I scrub my hand over my jaw, trying to make sense of the emotions steamrolling me. “Do you need to go now?”

She looks at her watch as she moves closer to me. “I should leave soon. I have a couple of up-dos for a Christmas party.”

I lean in and give her a kiss, lingering on her lips. “I have to go to the team hotel tonight.” We always stay at a hotel the night before a home game. It’s the team rule, so we don’t have to worry about spouses, girlfriends, sick kids, or cars that won’t start in the morning. “Let’s figure out a time to see—”

A wild knocking sounds on my door.

She arches a brow. I peer in the peephole. Just outside, Ford grins as if he’s won the lottery.