Page 176 of With the Assist

Because even after five months, I want him as badly as he wants me, and because being tangled up in our sheets, all warmth and lazy touches, still feels too good to be true.

We don’t rush. He rolls on top of me, his body weight pressing me into the mattress. My body aches with need at the contact. His hands know where to go, tugging my shorts down my legs until the only thing separating us is his boxers, which are gone just as fast.

His mouth trails down my neck, and I lose myself in the feel of his tongue against my skin. He continues south until he teases my nipple, toying with the sensitive bud. My back arches up into him, his length pressing hard against my thigh.

I push him over, rolling on top of him, letting my hair cascade around us as I kiss him deeply, our hands roaming.

I sink down his body, gripping his cock and moving up the length of it until his eyes darken. My grin is playful as I lower my mouth and wrap my lips around him, swirling my tongue across the tip.

His hand moves to my head, grip tightening on my hair, as I work him over with my mouth. I take my time working him over until he groans, a gravelly sound from deep in his throat.

Only then do I slide up, lifting up enough for him to slide on a condom and line himself up under me. When I sink down onto him, I gasp, getting lost in the feel of him stretching me so perfectly.

He doesn’t give me more than a second of straddling him, hips moving with him deep inside of me, before he’s back on top of me, setting the pace. Nathan loves it when I let go for him, when I let him have control. I love it, too. Inside this room, on this bed, is the only place that I don’t overthink a single thing. His brown eyes meet mine as he thrusts deeper into me.

“God, you’re fucking perfect, baby.” He leans down, kissing me slowly.

I wrap my legs around his waist, opening myself wider so that each thrust of his cock feels deeper than the last.

“You said we’d be quick,” I tease.

I’d known when he said it that it was a lie. We like to take our time.

“Forgive me, baby.” He thrusts fast and hard. “I lied.”

I moan against his neck.

He takes his time, fucking me at a slow and relentless pace. I can feel every nerve in my body tightening, my pussy clenching him tighter as I get close to the edge. Then, he brushes his thumb against my clit, sending me all the way over it. The orgasm stretches all the way down to my toes. He thrusts a few more times before coming and collapsing next to me.

I give myself two minutes, staring at the ceiling and catching my breath. There is nothing that compares to this with him. There never will be.

When my two minutes are up, reality taps me on the shoulder. Even amazing sex doesn’t stop my sense of responsibility from pushing me forward.

I groan and roll out of bed, tugging one of his shirts over my head. “Okay. Up. You cannot be late today.”

He props himself up on his elbows, watching me with that smug, lazy smile that still gives me butterflies. “You sure? Pretty sure my agent would understand.”

“Your contract is getting signed,” I say, pointing at him. “Today. You are not blowing that because you couldn’t get out of bed.”

He laughs. “Fair. But for the record, it’d be worth it.” He heads to the closet, pulling on dress pants and a collared shirt. “Besides, it’s only been a week since the season ended, so I’m sure ownership is still riding high.”

“Losing in the championships is still losing.” I grab my phone off the dresser.

He sneaks up behind me and nips at my ear. “It’s so hot when you do that.”

I giggle, turning to wrap my arms around him. “Do what?”

“Go all competitive athlete on me.” He gives me a quick kiss, pushing me backwards toward the bed. “Makes me want to lay you back down and show you exactly…”

“Nope!” I cut him off, ducking under his arm and down the hall. “Now, we really don’t have time. The moving truck is going to be here soon with my stuff.”

He only had to ask twice before I agreed to move in with him. Maybe that’s insane, but after spending almost every night together when we weren’t on the road, it just made sense.

Our new place isn’t flashy like his penthouse; there is no rooftop infinity pool or modern fixtures. It’s a penthouse at an older complex. It has creaky hardwood floors, a weird built-in bookshelf, and actual art on the walls. It feels lived-in and permanent, like someone plans to stay.

And we both do.

“Leaving my place still feels weird,” I admit.