Page 63 of Defensive Zone

“Is that so?” I huff a laugh and curl my hand around the back of his neck, pulling him down to kiss him. Just like that first time I tasted myself on his lips, I’m overcome with emotion. Maybe it’s the post-orgasm high, or maybe it’s just because it’s Carter.

The man I’ve loved for nearly twenty years.

“Welcome home, baby,” he murmurs against my lips.

And I’m right where I need to be.

In Carter’s arms.Home.

Chapter Twenty-One

Carter

“I can’t believe it has taken us this long,” Zach says with a light chuckle. “I thought we would have finished it by now.”

There’s still over a dozen bags of pieces left for the LEGO Millennium Falcon, all currently scattered across the coffee table in the living room. Between his migraine attacks, which are now a regular occurrence, him returning back to the ice, and us having copious amounts of sex, the build was pushed to the back of our minds.

Not that I’m complaining about the sex part because, shit, I didn’t know sex could be like that. Mind-altering, out-of-this-world sex. There’s still so much we haven’t done though, one of them being me bottoming. I didn’t know it was even a phrase until I started researching one afternoon when Zach was taking a headache-induced nap. He’s told me so many times not to worry, that we’ll take things slow, but I don’t want to take things slow. I wantallof it, so I’ve been making sure I know what I need to do for when that day finally comes.

But it won’t be today, because as soon as he got back from practice this morning, we had sex in the shower, and then he decided this would be a good day to finish the set as he doesn’t have a game tonight.

The Falcon is looking awesome, though, and when we finally get to add the LED light pack I ordered online, it’s going to look epic.

“Where are you going to display it?” I ask, sorting through the pieces and placing them in small piles so it’s easy for him to pick up.

“Probably the game room. I’ve seen some people display it on coffee tables, but…” He waves his hand, motioning to the coffee table we’re currently sitting at.

I got it custom-made as a birthday gift a few years ago when I found a guy in California who made Star Wars-themed wood and resin tables. It looks fucking amazing, like the spacecrafts are flying through the galaxy.

Getting it from California to Chicago was a bit of a feat, but it was totally worth it to see the look of amazement on Zach’s face.

“Maybe we could get a display cabinet for it in the game room,” I suggest. “Like a cube, so you can see it from all angles.”

There’s a soft smile on his face when he looks up.

“What?”

Tugging the corner of his lip between his teeth, he shakes his head slightly as his smile turns bashful. “I just love how you say ‘we,’ like this is our home.”

“What do you mean?” I furrow my brows. “It is our home.”

“I mean, you say it like this is the home where we live together. That your home in Denver is just temporary.”

“Because it is.” I scoot forward on the couch. He’s wearing half of his hair up in a bun today, but a few tendrils have fallen out around his face, so I tuck them behind his ear. “My home hasalways been wherever you are, Zach. My house in Denver has never felt like home to me, not like this place does.”

He doesn’t say anything to that, just leans forward and presses his lips to mine. I sink into the kiss, loving the feel of his stubble against my clean-shaven face and the lingering taste of the glazed donut he ate not long ago on his tongue. When he pulls away, he has this dreamy look in his eyes.

“What was that for?”

“Because I can.” He winks. “Now, let’s get this finished before you distract me even more. If we’re late for dinner with Blaine, he won’t let me hear the end of it.”

We’re meeting Blaine and Alex tonight for dinner. Zach mentioned how eager Blaine’s been for us to double-date since that night in his apartment, and this is the first night that has worked out for everyone.

Chuckling, we return our focus to the building instructions, listening to Sports Network in the background as we work.

I’m not sure how much time has passed when I hear, “What do you think? There’s one year left on his contract, but should Denver trade Carter Lockwood?”

Both of us snap our heads to the TV when the talk show host mentions my name.

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