Page 18 of Neutral Zone Kisses

I slam into her, hard and fast, my hands digging into her ass to hold her to me. She’s screaming my name now, her body beginning to tremble with the first waves of her climax. Her pussy clamps down on my cock, a rhythmic, milking pressure that nearly sends me over the edge.

"Come for me," I hiss, fighting to come. "Give it all to me."

She shudders, her entire body racking with a violent, beautiful orgasm. I hold her through it, pounding into her until I can't hold back any longer. I explode inside her, a hot, pulsing release that leaves me shaking and lightheaded.

We stay like that for a long time, the water beating against us, our hearts racing in a frantic, shared tempo. I slowly lower her feet back to the floor, but I don't let her go. I wrap my arms around her, pulling her close, the steam swirling around us.

I pull back just enough to look at her. Her face is flushed, her hair a wet tangle, and she’s never looked more beautiful. The weight of what I’m feeling is too heavy to keep inside anymore. The jokes, the banter, the protective walls—they’re not enough.

I lean in, my forehead resting against hers. "Mia," I whisper, my voice thick.

She looks up, sensing the shift in the air. The humor is gone. This isn't a locker-room boast or a tactical move.

"I love you," I say, the words landing with a finality that shakes me. "I love you so much it scares the shit out of me."

The silence that follows is filled only by the hiss of the shower. I hold my breath, waiting for the rejection, for the logical reason why this can't work.

Instead, Mia smiles. It’s not a smirk or a polite curve of the lips. It’s a bright, genuine, soul-deep smile that confirms her feelings and tells me everything I need to know about our future.

She doesn't say it back yet, not with words, but the way she tucks her face into the crook of my neck and exhales a long, shaky breath tells me she's not running. Her fingers, still damp and pruning from the water, trace the line of my jaw before anchoring in the hair at the nape of my neck. I feel her heart slowing against mine, its rhythm smoothing out into something stable and sure. The steam is still thick, a warm cocoon that makes the rest of the world feel like a distant, unimportant rumor. Right now, there are no scouts, no trade deadlines, and no emergency room rotations. There is just this--the heavy, humid heat and the woman who finally decided to let me win.

"You're terrifying, Mick McLinden," she whispers into my skin, her voice muffled by the spray. "And somewhere along the way, you stole my freaking heart."

"And I’m fucking keeping it," I murmur, pulling her tighter. I can't seem to get her close enough. Every time I think I've got her pinned, I want more. I want to absorb her.

I reach over and finally turn off the water. The sudden silence is jarring, punctuated only by the heavy drips falling from the shower head and the sound of our mingled breathing. I grab a towel from the rack just outside the glass door and start drying her off, moving with a deliberate, slow reverence. I dry her arms, her back, the curve of her hips, watching the way her skin flushes under my touch. She watches me back, her expression open in a way I've never seen before. The armor is truly off, and the sight of her vulnerability makes that protective instinct in my gut roar to life. I have to touch her. I cup her jaw, sweeping my thumb across her cheekbone. She's watching me so damn close, like I'm a complicated equation she can't quite solve.

God help me, I want her looking at me like that for the rest of my fucking life.

She doesn't say a word, just grins and reaches for the towel, wrapping it around herself like it’s armor. I grab my own towel and do a pass over my hair, then her hair, because apparently, I’m one of those guys now. The kind who fusses.

She snorts at me. I ignore it and keep drying her off. Her hair’s still damp and wild, curling at her temples and clinging to her cheeks. I want to bury my face in it and never come up for air.

She steps out of the shower, but I catch her around the waist like she’s about to make a run for it. Nope. Not letting her go.

I pull her close and nuzzle into her neck. Can’t help it. She smells like lavender, my soap, and something sweet that's all her. It’s fucking addictive.

"Got plans today?" I ask, voice gone rough. Don’t even try to play it cool.

She turns, blue eyes so clear it nearly floors me. "Yeah," she says. "I'm spending it with you."

I think my heart straight-up forgets how to beat. I stare down at her, this tiny spitfire wrapped in my towel, and every cell in my body sings a fucking national anthem just for her.

"That's the right answer," I tell her. I get cocky and crowd her toward the double sink, my hands bracketing her hips, possessive as hell.

She just grins back, a little wicked. "Don’t let it go to your head."

Too late.

I drag her closer, pinning her to the counter, and kiss her until she’s groaning into my mouth. That’s my new favorite sound. Top ten all-time life highlights.

CHAPTER NINE

MIA

The fluorescent hum of the emergency department usually acts as a sedative for my overactive brain, a steady white noise that drowns out everything but the immediate needs of the patients. Tonight, however, the lights feel abrasive, biting into the corners of my vision. It is 11:42 PM, the middle of my third shift back after spending the weekend in Mick McLinden’s bed.

After our weekend together, Mick dropped me off at home with a kiss and a promise to spend time with me as soon as he has a free moment. Of course, my three-day stretch and his two home games in a row will make it difficult, but we’ll figure out a way to make it work.