Page 75 of Captain's Claim

I lean in, drawn to Sophia's flushed face and parted lips. The taste of her sweetness lingering on my tongue isn't enough.

I need to kiss her, to claim that sweet mouth.

But then, Natalie stumbles back up the aisle, followed by Coach Brody. Both freeze when they spot us, eyes like two fucking deer in the headlights.

Natalie's neat ponytail is half-undone, wisps of hair framing her face. Brody's tie hangs loose, his collar rumpled.

They look like they've been running laps. In a fucking airplane bathroom.

Sophia's eyes widen as she takes in their disheveled state. She leans close, her breath tickling my ear. "Oh my god, did they...?"

I can't hold back my smirk. "Told you they were five seconds away from it."

Sophia tilts her head, considering them for half a second before casually pretending to check her watch. She turns to me with a completely deadpan expression.

"Huh. Ten minutes. Respectable. Thought he’d last less."

I bark out a laugh, shaking my head.

"Sweetheart, you wouldn’t know what a quickie is if it slapped you on the ass. Took you half the night just to admit you wanted me."

Sophia’s eyes narrow, then - without warning - she grabs one of the peanuts from her drink napkin and chucks it straight at my head.

Natalie, meanwhile, is still desperately flattening her ponytail, cheeks flaming red. Brody won’t meet anyone’s eyes as he slides into his seat, suddenly very fascinated by his phone as the plane starts its descent into Chicago.

I bite back another laugh, watching as the guy who preaches discipline and patience on the ice just spent ten minutes wrecking our team therapist in an airplane bathroom.

Hell, Brody thinks five minutes in the penalty box is a lifetime? But suddenly, he’s fine with a full double minor of midair, Mile High sex?

Sophia lifts her drink, hiding her own post-orgasm glow behind the rim. Her thighs press together beneath the blanket where my hand remains locked between her clenched legs.

The plane reaches the final moments of its descent, the seat belt sign pinging overhead. I shift in my seat, adjusting myself discreetly.

The thought of having Sophia all to myself in Chicago has my body humming.

Natalie clears her throat. "So... good flight everyone?"

Sophia chokes on her drink.

I pat her back, fighting back a laugh. "Yeah, you could say that."

Now all I'm thinking is, I can't wait to get my girl to the hotel.

Chapter Eighteen

Sophia

Istep into the gleaming lobby of Chicago's most luxurious hotel, still buzzing from the cocktails on the plane and Blake's wandering hands under that blanket.

The crystal chandeliers have rainbow prisms shining across marble floors, and a champagne cart passing by beckons like a mirage.

Natalie and I snag a flute each before someone can stop us, and we tap our crystal glasses in celebration, laughing like carefree schoolgirls on their first overnight trip.

"Welcome to the Waldorf, gentlemen... and ladies." The concierge's smile could power the city grid. "Your rooms are ready."

Logan dumps his gear bag with a thud that echoes through the lobby. "Tell me there's a steak house within crawling distance."

"Three, actually." The concierge hands Coach Brody a stack of key cards. "And our spa offers a sports massage package specifically designed for—"

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