Page 89 of Captain's Claim

I arch a brow. “So what is all this anyway? Are there any balloons left in Chicago?”

Sophia hums, tilting her head to look at the set up around the hotel room. “Oh, you know… just some gifts for my favorite person.”

"Oh really?"

She nods and stands abruptly, cutting me off with a flick of her hair and a shake of her hips.

"You know, I'm very proud of you right now."

My brow furrows. “Uh—”

She turns away, pouring herself a glass of whiskey like we weren’t just in the middle of a moment. She takes a slow, deliberate sip, leaving lipstick on the rim of the glass instead of my damn cheek this time.

Then she reaches for a small remote on the nightstand by the bed and clicks a button.

The lights dim.

Soft music hums through the suite’s speakers.

She walks around the bed with a teasing smile lazily tossed over her shoulder.

“Lucky for you, mister, you’re not the only one who planned ahead.”

My brain is still spinning from everything that’s happened tonight - the game, the birthday surprise - but now,nowmy focus narrows to one thing and one thing only.

Her.

Slowly, deliberately, she reaches for the tie of the silky robe draped over her body. I've been so distracted I haven't even noticed that it's Icehawks-blue satin. It matches the damn balloons.

Her fingers work the knot loose. The fabric parts.

The robe slides off her shoulders, a whisper of silk gliding down her arms. She lets it linger at her elbows for a second, just enough for me to get impatient before pooling at her feet.

And underneath…

She’s wearingdark green lace. Icehawksgreen lace.

"Fuck, Sophia…"

Barely-there, delicate strips of fabric tease at curves I already know too fucking well after last night. A sheer bra that hugs her breasts, cut just low enough to test my goddamn sanity. Tiny lace panties, thin straps resting high on her hips, leavingnothingto my imagination.

She walks toward me, her hips swaying. "Well, Captain… do you like your gift?"

“Oh, Ilovemy gift, sweetheart.”

Her smile grows, satisfied. “Then why are you just sitting there?”

Christ. Fuck that.

My hands grip her waist, pulling her flush against me as I crush my mouth to hers. She gasps, but it turns into a moan as I devour her, kissing her deep and slow and thorough.

Her fingers tangle in my hair, tugging just hard enough to make me groan against her lips. My hands slide down, gripping her ass, lifting her off the ground as her legs wrap around my waist and I toss her to the bed.

I unwrap my gift, piece by piece, savoring the way she comes apart for me.

As we give in to each other again, she looks up at me, eyes heavy, lips swollen from my hard mouth.

And I say it.

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