He breathes a sigh of relief, smiles, then lets out a sexy rumble. “Thank you for letting me make you happy.”

  I tug on his jeans. “You do make me happy. Especially when I can sit on your dick.”

  Declan growls as his hands roam up my chest. “I want that. But I want something else too.” He tips his forehead to the stairs. “Bedroom. I have a plan.”

  My balls tingle as my dick does a happy dance. I grab his hand and press the palm against my hard-as-steel cock. “I’m down with whatever you have on the sex agenda tonight.”

  Our shoes come off.

  As we go up the stairs, I shed my shirt, tugging it over my head with one hand, dropping it to the floor. Declan does the same with his. When we’re in our bedroom he stalks me again, pushes me against the wall by our bureau, slams his hands roughly against my pecs.

  My breath hitches as pleasure shoots through me.

  “You like that,” he says, all hot and gravelly. “When I manhandle you.”

  “Always have. Ever since we first hooked up,” I say. A wave of goose bumps rolls over my skin, making the hair on my arms stand on end.

  Declan grabs my wrists, pins them to my sides, and rubs his pelvis against me.

  Another moan falls from my lips. “Yeah, like that,” I murmur as he keeps me in his grip.

  With a tight hold on my wrists, he dips his face to my chest, licks a path between my pecs. He bends, traveling lower, flicking his tongue across my abs while keeping me locked against the wall. I’m a live wire, vibrating with lust. When he reaches my pelvis, he presses a hard, hot kiss against the ridge of my erection, then rises, his face meeting mine.

  “Remember the first time we kissed?” he asks.

  Hot memories flash before my eyes of that time in his BMW after dark in Phoenix. “Like it was yesterday.”

  Declan coasts his hands down my biceps. “Kissing you on the side of the road was insane. Touching you was the highest high I’d ever felt. Still is.”

  “Same here,” I say, sinking into the bliss of his words and his touch as his palms explore my arms, roaming over me like he’s touching me for the first time.

  Then lower.

  He paws at my jeans, works them open, slides them down my hips. “You were incredible then. You’re even more so now. Do you know that?”

  “I don’t know anything right now. My brain is kind of mush from what you’re doing to me.” I shudder, giving in to every single sensation that whips through my body courtesy of Declan Steele.

  “Everything with us is even better now,” he says as he shoves my jeans down my legs. I step out of them, then push down my briefs too, my cock springing free.

  His eyes burn with lust as he stares at my aching hard-on. “Mmm. Rookie,” he whispers, wrapping his hand around my throbbing dick. “My rookie,” he rasps out as he strokes, and I shudder from the wild pleasure of his hand on my length. “My sexy fucking rookie who wants his man.”

  “I do. God, I fucking do, Deck.” My eyes roam shamelessly over his body. “Get naked please. Get in me. Just fuck me soon.”

  With a sly grin, Declan lets go of my dick, unsnaps the top button on his jeans, then pushes them down, along with his briefs. His dick pops out to say hi. It’s thick and hard; he’s as aroused as I am. Already a drop of liquid waits at the head of his cock. Sliding my thumb across his crown, I swipe the pre-come, smear it on my lips and lick.

  He steals a hot kiss, then steps out of his clothes. When we’re both naked, he brings me against him, our hard cocks lining up, rubbing against each other. He grinds his pelvis roughly against mine. Sliding a hand between us, he grasps both of our cocks and strokes up.

  I shudder, letting out an animalistic groan.

  “Look at how much we want each other, Grant,” he says.

  I tremble everywhere as my gaze drifts down, drinking in the erotic sight. “So sexy,” I rasp out.

  Declan lets go for a few seconds, grabs the lube from the nightstand, returns to me. He coats his palm, then takes our dicks in his fist again. “I want to make a video of this sometime,” I groan.

  “Me too. But tonight I want to watch one with you,” he says, and my skin sizzles in anticipation of what’s to come on his sex plans.

  Whatever it is, I want it.

  Badly.

  Since right now, I’m flying through the roof as his hand takes a tour of our dicks, coasting in a slow, sensual glide up and down. He gives us several long, seductive jerks, twisting, gripping, holding.

  My insides quiver with red-hot desire.

  “See how hard we get together?” Declan asks in the roughest, dirtiest voice ever.

  I nod savagely, panting out a gritty yes.

  “Because we can’t get enough of each other,” he says.

  I can’t even speak. Words are too tough to form as he strokes us. So I just moan, and whimper, groan, and grunt.

  Sex isn’t everything in a relationship, but I swear the way we touch brings us closer every time. We fuck without walls. We smash into each other with our guards down, our hearts open, our bodies eager. Our sex is fearless and unafraid, a symbol for how we want our lives to be.

  My breath stutters past my lips as I gaze at Declan, looking into his lust-struck eyes. “It’s so good,” I tell him.

  “Nobody but you does this to me,” he says, in a filthy confession.

  “Nobody,” I repeat as a white-hot blast of ecstasy hammers through me. He grips us tight, tugs hard, then unleashes a carnal groan.

  “Fuck, Grant. I need to be inside you.”

  I set a hand on his chin, and look him in the eyes. “Get me ready then.”

  He smirks, his lips twitching.

  I arch a brow. “What’s that smile for?”

  “To get you ready, I want your laptop.”

  Oh, this is gonna be good. I slink away from him to grab it from the nightstand drawer while he ducks into the bathroom. Declan returns with a towel, then spreads it over a leather chair in the corner of the bedroom.

  “Remember what you did to me last night?” he asks.

  “I absolutely do.” I put him in his favorite position, spreadeagled under me, and fucked him hard till he shouted my name and came all over his chest. And I recorded a couple minutes of it.

  “Turn it on. I want to watch you fucking me when I start to fuck you,” he says, and holy hell, that works for me.

  Oh yes, does that ever work for me.

  Declan sinks down on the leather chair, and flicks open the lube as I find the folder with our videos and set the machine on the end of the bed so it’s a foot away, in perfect view.

  He spreads his legs, looking like a king, then he pulls me into his lap and works me open with the lube and his fingers, scissoring them inside me.

  My dick thumps against my stomach as he loosens me up. A minute later, Declan slicks more lube on his cock, then sets the bottle on the arm of the chair. He wraps both hands around my ass and smacks my cheeks with both palms. The pleasure and the hint of pain radiates through me.

  “Mmm. Yes.”

  My guy swats me again then jerks me closer, squeezing my cheeks. “Fucking love this ass.”

  “Then get in it,” I say, as I spin around, and set my feet on either side of his legs so I can ride his shaft. I lower myself onto his dick, inch by lubed inch, his groans letting me know how much he loves being inside me as my body swallows his cock.

  When he’s all the way in, I breathe in the heated moment. Let the bliss charge through me.

  “Hit play,” he says, and I oblige, stretching my arm to the keyboard.

  The sounds of last night’s sex fill the room.

  The slapping of flesh.

  The moans of pleasure.

  The skin, the noise, the tension.

  We both tremble as we watch two men passionately fucking each other on the screen.

  “Those two guys are really into each other,” Declan murmurs as he bites down on my shoulder.

  “Yeah, they seriously are,” I say, moaning as he thrusts into me. I answer his stroke by clenching around his cock.

  “Mmm . . . you make me feel so good, then and now,” he groans in my ear, then tips his forehead to the screen as we both gaze at the clip of the two of us wrapped up in each other, chasing the edge of desire.

  Just like we are right now, as we come together again in a new way. Every time with Declan feels new. I rise up on him, finding a slow and sensuous rhythm while we stare at the way we pleased each other last night.

  “What do you see when you watch us?” he asks as he grips my hips while I set the pace.

  There are so many ways to answer that. I see lust and passion. I see heat and desire. I see our future. But what I see most of all is this— “I see two men in love.”

  His hands clamp around my hips. His moans fall hot against my ear. “Yes, babe. I see the only man for me. I see us fucking and loving just like we’re doing right now,” he says, as the video ends, and we both sink into this moment, the intensity of it.

  “No cameras tonight,” I whisper.

  “Nope. Just want to make love to you,” he murmurs, and hell, it feels that way. Even though we’re chest to back, Declan Steele does make love to me in a sensual, seductive rhythm that makes me want to spend the whole damn night in his arms.

  Shivering from the lust, I show him how much I love having him in me as I bounce up and down on his cock, roaming my hands up my chest, playing with my nipples, sending spikes of pleasure all throughout my body.

  “Let me do that to you,” he murmurs, and I drop my hands to the edge of his thighs, sliding along the hair on his legs.

  Declan flicks at my nipple piercing, making me shudder and whimper out his name. He does it again and again, and the only solution is to fuck his cock harder as my brain floats into a land of ecstatic bliss. I reach my arms behind me, wrapping them around the back of his head. He takes full advantage of the position, sweeping hungry, needy kisses all along my neck, scraping his stubble against my skin. Like the greedy lover I am, I take all of Declan’s kisses, and his touches, and his fucking, and I ride them out.

  He sneaks a hand down my abs and grasps my cock.

  I unleash a primal moan. “Yes, jack me, baby. Please.”

  “You want it hard and fast?” he asks on a tight upstroke.

  I tremble, shaking everywhere from the sweet agony of his touch. “Anything. Just make me come. Please.”

  “I’ll get you there. I promise.”

  As Declan’s hand flies along my length, he lavishes kisses on my neck, passionate open-mouthed caresses. Our bodies tangle, our sweat mingles, our hearts hammer in tandem, all while he whispers filthy nothings in my ear about coming inside me, making me his.

  I’m already his. I’ve been his for a long time.

  Pleasure annihilates me, and I shoot all over his hand and my stomach. With a savage grunt, my man goes wild in me, filling me up with his come, biting down on my neck before he lets go and roars out a deafening yes, fucking yes, yes, yes, yes.

  It’s the loudest Declan’s ever been, and that’s saying something.

  He’s right. It gets better every single time.

  Because it’s sex, but it’s also love and trust and hope. And it’s how we show each other just how far and deep we can go.

  As Declan wraps his strong arms around me, he holds me close, sighing happily. We don’t need words right now. We can talk without them, and I know we’re both feeling the same thing.

  This is forever.

  A few minutes later, we get in the shower to clean up. I’m still in that state of exhausted bliss as he runs soap up and down my body. “I like getting you dirty. I like getting you clean. I like when you let me into your body and your mind,” Declan tells me.

  That’s the other thing—sex is intimacy in every way. It brings us closer each time. “I want you there in every way,” I say as he washes me.

  When we’re out, I grab a towel, wrap it around my waist, and make an announcement. “I’m really hungry.”

  “Want me to make you a sandwich?”

  “I do.”

  In the kitchen, he whips out a skillet, butter, some Gouda cheese, and a couple orange and yellow peppers. He cooks with more finesse than I’ve ever seen him manage in the kitchen. Soon, he serves up a perfectly oozy, yummy sandwich that we share over the kitchen counter, both wearing nothing but towels wrapped around our waists.

  “This is kind of both sexy and domestic,” I observe.

  “Sounds like us,” he adds.

  “You’re better in the kitchen than I thought.”

  “Mom loved to make sandwiches. She taught me how.”

  “I like your mom,” I say.

  Declan laughs around a bite, then finishes it and says, “Me too.”

  This seems like a good moment to let him into my mind. If he wants to know all of me, I’m going to keep showing him. Because I know this man. I have a good feeling that he needs what I can give him. Faith in him. The faith I hope he’ll have in himself. “You know, Deck, you’re more like her than your dad.”

  With a grin he asks, “You think so?”

  “She’s amazing. So are you. She’s a great role model,” I say, with none of the trepidation that I felt in the car a month ago. With none of the nerves. He knows what I want. I’m not afraid to let him know I still want a family, and that I have enough faith for the two of us. “Just think about that, Deck.”

  He sets down the sandwich, reaches for my hand, threads our fingers together. “I am thinking about it. I promise. Don’t take my silence for a no.”

  I smile as Declan kisses me. I won’t take it for a no. But it’s not a yes either.

  25

  Declan

  A month later

  * * *

  When I finish my Friday morning workout at the neighborhood gym, I walk up Fillmore Street, grab an iced tea at my favorite coffee shop, then call Mom as I make my way home.

  Even though I lived in San Francisco during my first four years on the Cougars, this city is home to me now in an entirely new way. It still blows my mind how much I love being here with Grant. What would it be like to be here in ten years with him? Maybe with Grant and a family? That’s what I’m still trying to imagine, and the picture’s still blurry.

  That’s why I need to talk to Mom.

  “Any chance you’re free tomorrow after my game? I was hoping to chat with you again about the whole making you a grandma or not thing,” I say.

  With a laugh, she answers, “Yes, of course.”

  This isn’t the first time I’ve reached out to her to talk about the big issue. We chatted a few weeks ago when Grant was out of town in August. Grabbed a coffee one morning before she went into work, and I told her everything he’d said about wanting to have a family someday.

  She listened, nodded and said it was a lot to think about.

  It was.

  It is.

  And I’m still thinking.

  I haven’t stopped thinking.

  “Do you want me to come over now? I know Grant’s in Seattle,” she says, since she follows the team’s schedules.

  “He’s coming back Sunday night. But it’s not urgent, Mom. I’m just working through some stuff. I talked to Carla too, but wanted to chat with you, as well.”

  “Ah, I didn’t know you were still seeing your therapist, sweetie.” I can hear the smile in her voice. The pride too—she’s the one who encouraged me nearly two years ago to see someone. “That’s great. I’m so glad you’re still in touch with her.”

  “I don’t see her as much, but maybe once a month we do a Zoom session. It’s helpful.”

  “Of course. I still see mine, as you know.” She takes a beat, taps on her keyboard. “Why don’t I come to your game tomorrow afternoon, and we can grab a bite at the Ferry Building after? Wait. Nope. Too crowded post-game. Too many fans.”

  I smile, glad she caught onto that right away. “What about that new noodle bar in the marina? Reese was telling Grant about it, and it sounded good. It’s less fan-centric.”

  “Perfect.” Her voice softens. “Are you sure you don’t want to chat now? I’m happy to talk anytime.”

  I shake my head. “I have a game against Chicago in a couple hours. The pitcher is a ruthless leftie who owns me at the plate this season, so I need to get in the zone.”

  “John-Paul Stockman. You’ve had a tough time hitting against him since you became a Dragon.”

  Mom knows the pitchers now? “You follow me that closely?”

  “I’m a baseball fan. I know a thing or two.”

  “Color me impressed.”

  “Don’t act so surprised. Your father isn’t the only one who knows the sport. And I bet you can crack the code on Stockman.”

  “That’s why I’m going in early today. To work with some of our lefties.”

  “If we could bottle your focus and market it, we’d own the world,” she remarks, then we say goodbye.

  A little later, I’m ready to go to the ballpark for some extra practice with Gunnar and the bullpen. I bound downstairs and stop in the foyer to grab my keys. As I toss them up and down, I flash back on the day Grant gave me this new car.

  I’d just been traded to San Francisco. We’d been sharing his Tesla for the first week we lived together. But our schedules weren’t lining up, so one Sunday morning he told me he was taking me out for a coffee at a new café across the city. That was unlike him. My guy likes to walk and stay in the hood for his morning Joe. But I didn’t suspect he was giving me new wheels, until I pushed open the door to the garage. A huge red bow sat perched on the hood of a new BMWi8.

  “Your favorite car,” he’d said.

  I turned to him, blinking, in shock. “You got me a car?”

  “You got me you, so I figure this is a good start at giving back.”

  I kissed the hell out of him, and then we christened the car. Pretty sure we never got that cup of coffee. Grant knows how to take care of me, whether it’s a car or a bagel or a text message. More proof that he’d make a great dad someday, and not because he gave me a car, but because he cares deeply about the people in his life. There’s zero doubt in my mind about him. The doubt is all on me.