Page 89 of Burner Account

I shook myself and managed a smile. “I think I’m just… peopled out.”

“You?” He laughed almost soundlessly. “But you’re always around a ton of people.”

“As a hockey player, yeah.” I stepped closer, sliding my hands over his waist. “Not as their family member’s boyfriend.”

That seemed to catch him off-guard. As he wrapped his arms around me, he asked, “Have you been nervous? About meeting my family?”

“Of course I have.” I laughed. “Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve given a damn what a boyfriend’s parents thought about me?”

He stared at me, those beautiful blue eyes wide with surprise.

He didn’t say a word, but I could hear it loud and clear:You’re worried about being good enough for my family?

Yes. Yes, I was. And, somehow, his family thought he wasn’t good enough for me.

Fuckthat.

“Yeah, I was nervous.” Drawing him closer, I murmured, “But I think I also just needed a little one-on-one time with you.”

Thank God, he didn’t question that. Instead, he slid a hand up into my hair, and he moaned softly when our lips met.

I sighed into his kiss. I wasn’t lying about the one-on-one time. It had been nonstop traveling and peopling since we’d left Pittsburgh, and we’d both been too wiped out to do anything at night except sleep.

I was still drained in ways I couldn’t explain to him, but I could damn sure find the energy to give him everything he wanted.

Everything hedeserved.

Because, my God, this man absolutelywasgood enough for me, and he deserved every bit of pleasure I could wring from both of us. Whatever he wanted. Anything. As long as he was trembling with bliss and knew without a doubt that no matter what anyone else might’ve thought, I was all in. Maybe I wasn’t ready to tell him I loved him—I wasn’t sure he was ready to hear that yet—but I could absolutely show him.

“Fuck, baby,” he murmured between messy kisses. “We’re gonna end up doing this right here in my parents’ living room.”

“Don’t care,” I panted, and kissed him hard. I didn’t care. He could plow me over the couch. Against the wall. Or I could blow him against the door. Over the kitchen counter. Hell, he could haul me out onto the deck and pound me over the railing until the neighbors complained. Anything. Anywhere. Just— “Fuck me. Please.”

Isaiah shivered, and for a second, I thought he might do me right here in the living room after all. Instead, he nudged me toward the hallway. “Bedroom,” he growled. “Unless you’ve got lube right here.”

Oh. Yeah. There was that. Dammit.

“Bedroom.”

In what felt like both two nanoseconds and two hundred years, we made it from the living room into the guest room. Isaiah dragged me down on top of him on the bed, and we made out as he kneaded my ass in both hands.

“Get out of these clothes,” he demanded. “Want… Want you naked.”

I whimpered as I stole another kiss. Then I sat up and peeled my shirt off.

“Jesus fuck,” he breathed, raking his eyes over me.

I grinned down at him. “You see this all the time.”

“Uh-huh. I do.” He curved a hand behind my neck and pulled me back down. “You’re just so fucking hot.”

All I could do was moan, because he had my mouth again. In between making out, we managed to shed most of our clothes, separating just long enough to get his shirt over his head, and finally—finally—I had his hot, naked body against mine. His kiss was hungry and greedy, and I hoped mine had him evenhalfas turned on as I was.

I was out of breath when I broke the kiss, and I locked eyes with him, finding his as full of fire as mine must’ve been. “Anything you want,” I slurred. “Anything. Tell me.”

He held my gaze for a moment. “I want to fuck you.”

The shiver that sent through me had my whole body arching underneath his. “Yes, please.”

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