Page 17 of Spring Break with a Slap Shot

I trace the contours of his shoulders, feeling the power beneath his skin.

"Your hands," he murmurs. "They're like magic."

"Magic, huh?" I tease, allowing my fingers to dance across his skin. My touch is light, yet deliberate. "I thought you were the one with all the tricks up your sleeve."

"Maybe," he admits with a wink. "But I'm willing to learn a few new ones from you."

We're slow, unhurried, as if time has no meaning in Dakota's bedroom. There's no rush, no urgency. His fingertips skim over my collarbone, dip into the valley between my breasts, igniting tiny fires wherever they land. I arch into his touch.

"Harmony," he begs in a whisper. The anticipation coils tighter within me.

"Take your time," I whisper back. This isn't just about the rush of pleasure, it's about savoring every second, every sensation that draws us closer together.

"Look at me," he commands softly, and I do. Those hazel eyes lock onto mine, and his latex cover cock enters me in one fluid stroke.

The fullness makes me gasp, and I reach for him.

His sharp intake of breath is the only sound before he starts moving in and out of me, groaning my name like a prayer.

We move together, a symphony of sighs and whispers, giving way to a crescendo of passion. It's a game of give-and-take, an ebb and flow of desire that we ride with the same intensity.

"Harmony, you're incredible," Dakota pants.

Our movements grow more urgent, until the world narrows down to the point of no return.

"Harmony!" Dakota's voice breaks on the edge of his climax, and it's all the spark I need to follow him over, our release a shared quake that rocks us to the core.

Dakota's heartbeat thumps against my ear. We're a tangle of limbs on his unmade bed, the sheets twisted around us.

I look up at him, our noses almost touching, and there's this warmth in his gaze. His fingers trace lazy circles on my back.

"Isn't it just..." I start, but words fail me.

"So much more," Dakota supplies, and it's exactly right. More than lust, more than convenience. There's a depth in the way he looks at me, like he sees past Miss Green Eyes and into the core of who I am—my passion for science, my occasional sarcasm, the part of me that's always chasing after the next big breakthrough.

"Yeah, more," I echo, and the admission feels like stepping out into the unknown. Some things aren't meant to be measured or forecasted. Like the feeling of his arms tight around me, promising silent things that make my heart race faster.

"Scared?" he asks, his thumb brushing my jawline in a gesture so tender it might as well be a kiss.

"Terrified," I confess, because it's the truth.

"Good," he says with a grin. "Means it's real."

Chapter 12-Dakota

Harmony is only here for a little bit longer so I selfishly keep her in bed the entire day, but now we are meeting my friends at a beach bonfire.

I lead Harmony down the narrow path to our bonfire spot. Weathered driftwood logs line the trail to the beach.

"Watch your step," I murmur, guiding her over a piece of driftwood. She's wearing jeans and a light jacket that's probably too thin for the evening chill, but she hasn't complained once. Three days of knowing her, and I already know she's not the complaining type.

"I know I met the ladies already and they are great. But your teammates won't bite, will they?" She tucks a strand of auburn hair behind her ear.

"Only if you ask nicely." When she rolls her eyes, I squeeze her hand. "They'll love you. They're assholes, but they're my assholes."

As we approach the fire circle, Asher spots us first, his guitar pausing mid-chord. "The prodigal son returns!" he calls out, grinning. "And he brings a guest!"

Everyone turns, and suddenly I feel like I'm bringing a girl home to meet my parents. Except worse, because these idiots know all my secrets.

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