Page 76 of Over the Line

“It’s to protect the team, too,” he whispered, watching as I opened the folder. “I’m their captain, and…” He closed his eyes and pushed out a breath through his nose. “It’s such garbage that it’s even necessary, but I had an ex try to blackmail me, and…”

“What?” I scoffed as I took the papers out of the folder. “Someone actually did that to you?”

Scowling, he nodded. “Unfortunately. So my lawyer and my agent both said it was a good idea to have something like this before I got involved with someone.” With a humorless laugh, he added, “Real aphrodisiac, believe me.”

I shrugged and skimmed over the papers. It seemed like a pretty boilerplate non-disclosure agreement. If I told anyone—especially anyone tied to the media or the team—that I’d been intimate with Liam, I’d be on the hook for damages.

I shifted my gaze from the text to Liam. “What about Chris?”

His spine straightened. “What about him?”

“I mean, I’m not going to tell him we’re hooking up.” I grimaced. “That is… not a conversation I need to have with my son. But if…” I hesitated. “What if this doesn’t stop at hooking up?”

Liam swallowed like it took some actual work. “What if things get serious?”

I nodded slowly. “I’m not jumping the gun there. I’m totally fine if we just fuck and move on with our lives. But if we don’t…” I held up the papers and raised my eyebrows.

He glanced at the papers, then met my gaze. “I mean, if we get to that point, we’ll probably both tell him, won’t we? Together?”

“True.”

“This”—he gestured at the NDA—“is just so nobody goes running to the press or tells the front office.” He paused. “Do you want me to add something at the bottom?”

I considered it. This probably wasn’t the best time to be hammering out something like this; I was itching to get past the paperwork and get him out of those clothes. It was easy to imagine we could be completely reasonable about things down the line, but didn’t I know how quickly two reasonable adults could turn petty and vindictive?

Before I could answer his question, Liam gently took the papers from my hand. He picked up the pen and scrawled something on the bottom, then pulled a second copy from the folder and started writing on it.

While he wrote on the second, I read what he’d written.

If we get serious and want to come out, we’ll mutually agree to go public and/or tell people in our circles.

Below that, he’d signed his name.

I reread the agreement just to be sure I hadn’t missed anything. I hadn’t, and it all made perfect sense. It wasn’t like I was going to rush out and tell the world I’d screwed—or was continuing to screw—my son’s teammate. This secret was safe with me, and for that matter, the NDA went both ways—Liam couldn’t out us either.

Nothing left this house.

Which meant there was nothing to do but sign it and do what I’d been dying to do for too damn long.

So, I signed both agreements and initialed the handwritten part.

Liam put them on top of the folder without giving them another look.

“With that out of the way…” He grabbed the back of my neck and kissed me, and I forgot all about paperwork and legalese.

There’d been some tentativeness and gentle exploration the first time we’d touched. Now? There was nothing tentative or gentle. We kissed hard and messy, gripping handfuls of each other’s clothes as we rutted together against his kitchen counter. His erection rubbed tantalizingly against mine, and I’d never in my life wished for clothing to just evaporate. I wanted to feel him. Every inch of him. I wanted to taste him. See what kinds of sounds I could drive out of him.

Take him inside until I could think of nothing except pleading for him to keep riding me into the mattress.

Liam broke the kiss, breathing hard into the sliver of space between our lips. “Hope the paperwork didn’t kill the mood.”

I pressed my hips against his and made sure he could feel my hard cock. “Didn’t kill a thing.” Then I reclaimed his mouth, and his whimper almost melted my spine.

His hands slid under the back of my shirt, and the heat of his skin against mine made me gasp.

“We should go upstairs,” he panted. “I’m tired of us being dressed.”

It was my turn for a helpless whimper. “Yes, please?”