There are no words for the swirl of emotions boiling in my veins. Just carnal heat.

  “Take me,” I whisper, in a little tease.

  He tilts my face up to his with one finger. “Only if you want me to.”

  “I very much do.”

  Xavier

  It’s all the permission I need.

  We’re separated by a fitted suit and the tightest silk dress I’ve ever seen. She takes my hands and cups her swollen breasts. The hard points of her nipples catch my fingertips, and I watch the breath slip away from between her lips.

  Her dress, for all its tight hugging of her luscious curves, drops easily to the floor. Fuck, she’s beautiful. Delicate, smooth, and luxurious. I bury my face in her bare shoulder as I scoop her up and carry her to bed.

  She smells like champagne and sunshine and forbidden pleasures. My mouth waters at the thought of her other flavors.

  “Your clothes.” She tugs at my jacket. “They’re in the way.”

  “No one has ever fucked you good, have they, Eliza?” I tsk, and lower her onto the soft blankets. She’s like an angel surrounded by pillows. An angel I’m about to coax many an orgasm from. “I’ll remedy this. Just be warned—tonight I’m going to ruin you for every other man.”

  I’m not foolish enough to think I’ll get a second chance. She’s in charge of my team—she’s as off-limits as it gets. But I can damn sure make this a night neither of us will forget.

  “Maybe I want to be ruined.”

  “You’ll get nothing less.”

  She’s sprawled out, spread-eagle. Her sensual scent and the way she curves in the lamplight let me know she is more than ready. I grab the tender spot under each of her knees and pull her to me as I fall to my own knees beside the bed. She gasps loudly, but louder than her need is how swollen her beautiful clit is. I can taste her even before my tongue gently spreads apart her lips.

  Her hips press against my chin, eager and desperate, but she’s not getting what she wants just yet. I place a line of soft kisses against her inner thighs, and she groans and thrusts up at me once again. I still her with a firm hand on her lower belly. “Patience, my beautiful goddess.”

  “Tease. How can you be such a tease after all this time?” she mutters.

  “That’s how. Because all good things take time.”

  “That’s what someone says when they don’t know what they’re doing,” she says, full of sass.

  “There’s the woman I’ve gotten to know all those nights.” The one with the fiery mouth, who loves to give as good as she gets. “Let’s see if you think I know what I’m doing with your gorgeous body.”

  Starting from her soft opening, I trace my tongue along the ridges of her sweet pussy until her clit is captured between my teeth. Her cries are music to my ears and heat to my cock. It strains against the thick fabric of my trousers.

  I pull back, glancing up. “How’s that for my first time?”

  “Again,” she demands.

  I oblige and relish the way her body shivers under mine. There’s nothing I like more than a woman who knows what she wants. Powerful women who own their desires—why would anyone want to waste his time on any other kind of female?

  The sweet tang of her softness pulls me back to her. I can only tease so much myself before I’m the one feeling needy and desperate.

  Her hands grab at my head, and she presses my face into the spot she wants me most. I oblige again. And again. The ridges and valleys, the curves and the straights—I lick them all. I tease her opening and run her clit between my teeth, nibbling softly. Her breaths quicken, and her pussy flushes deep red, juicy as a peach. I lick her opening, and she cries out, just shy of her first orgasm.

  Stretching an arm toward her face, I slip two of my fingers into her mouth. She sucks on them, hard, and I can feel how close she is. My damn cock is about to rip through these ridiculous pants. I want to do this to her every night. I want all night with Eliza. But first, there is this night. I press my freshly lubricated fingers into her and hook them just so.

  Then all I have to do is suck on her clit and she comes loudly.

  Fuck, I could fall in love with this woman.

  Ripples of pleasure continue to rack her as I gently lick her through it. Every time she tries to move away, I hold her tighter. I’m going to push her to the limits of what she can take tonight. The flat of my tongue makes long, hot strokes across her swollen pussy and into the middle of her pleasure center. I swear, I’ve never enjoyed myself this much in bed.

  “Not bad for a first timer,” she teases breathlessly, and I chuckle as I move up her body.

  My hands skate along her skin and settle on her breasts. I thumb her nipples, rolling and pinching them in gentle tandem. I grab her hand and pull us to our feet. The scratchy fabric of my tux against her naked and aroused body seems to affect her. She shivers down to her toes.

  In my arms like this, wearing nothing but a pair of gold goddess sandals, she seems so small. On the field, when Eliza and Nadia occasionally show up to make a speech and survey the troops, she’s unknowable. Larger than life.

  Here, she is fragile and real.

  I kiss her again, to remind myself that she is still a woman under all the money and power and that family name.

  A woman who’s mine for the night.

  She sucks on my tongue, stealing the taste of herself, and I groan deep in the back of my throat. It’s intoxicating and sexy as hell that she keeps surprising me. I press my erection against her belly, showing her how much I want her, how much this affects me too.

  Suddenly, I need more. I want to cover every inch of her bare skin with mine.

  “Undress me,” I order her, relishing the opportunity to be in charge. Her eyes drop immediately, submissive and obedient, and I know she relishes it too, this chance to let go.

  I suck in a breath and let my hands fall to my sides as her capable fingers begin to work. First, my expensive jacket falls to a heap on the floor. I don’t care, because next is my cummerbund. Then comes my button-down. Finally, my pants and shoes, and then I’m not the masked gentleman who seduced her at one of this town’s infamous masquerades. I’m just a man, standing in nothing but a plain white T-shirt and blue boxer-briefs. They’re the same shade she has woven through a strand of her hair, making us look like we belong together.

  One beautiful smile later, the kind that stops my heart, she tugs at my shirt until I take pity and pull it over my head for her. Then it’s her turn to take a breath as she trips her fingertips down over my abs. It was worth every single five a.m. workout to see her enjoying the results of my time in the gym. Finally, her fingers trail down to rest at the base of my cock.

  And I’m done for.

  Because when she glances up at me shyly from under those beautiful long lashes, I know I never want to see anyone but her in this position in front of me ever again.

  Eliza

  I should have guessed—any man who stands six feet five would be proportional all over. His cock is magnificent. Long enough, thick enough to make my insides quiver and my mouth wince. Will I be able to take it? I can’t wait to try.

  I blow slow and hot on the tip of his length and let my breasts run across it as I stand. His eyes are greedy and eager. It’s a feeling I’m well acquainted with. I lie faceup on the bed, with my head hanging off the mattress, and lick my lips in a slow, fluid motion.

  “Come here.”

  I don’t have to tell him twice. Xavier moves toward me with the same grace he has on the field. He should be a star. But our starting quarterback has that role filled . . . And then Xavier’s on me, and all thoughts of football fly right out of my head.

  His cock slides right into my mouth and nudges the back wall of my throat. His groan sends another pang of desire straight to my core. It doesn’t take much coaxing to get him to thrust deep into my mouth. His groans steadily climb, deep and carnal. With my hands free, I can’t help but touch myself through each grunt.

  I run my fingers gently over my wet folds, remembering the feel of his tongue there as I relinquish all control. As he fucks my mouth, I writhe and moan at the behest of my own fingers. I’m infatuated with the way we move together. It’s as good as the dancing, our bodies working in perfect tandem, both chasing the pleasure we find in this moment.

  His length grows thicker in my mouth. I moan, sending the vibrations through him, loving the way he answers in kind.

  “I can’t hold back anymore,” he tells me, and I’m right there with him. “I’m going to—”

  And he does, hips bucking, pulsing his release into my mouth. The way he loses control is all I need for the second orgasm to take hold of me. I rock my hips one final time, and I follow him straight off the ledge, my vision going fuzzy around the edges as I soar into the stratosphere.

  When I can see straight again, he’s looking at me with something like worship in his gaze. Another wish granted—the one I made earlier seeing the way Cole watched Sage.

  I thank my lucky stars, and all the rest of them as well.

  This may be the only time I’ll ever be with my quarterback, but it’s already better than anything I’d ever imagined.

  “You taste delicious,” I tell him, wiping the corners of my mouth with one gold-tipped finger.

  “Likewise.” His voice rumbles through me, and I’m ready again. I shouldn’t be surprised. How could I ever get enough of him?

  Xavier gently rolls me to the side to evict all the unnecessary throw pillows. I enjoy the show, a club-level seat to his sculpted muscles flexing with each motion. Except no sculptor could do this justice. I could watch him unmake the bed forever.

  But those are dangerous thoughts to have even in passing. This is a stolen night. A secret tryst.

  I refocus on memorizing the shape of his body as he lies next to me and slides his hand between his legs, where his dick is already hardening again. He gives it a few lazy strokes, his eyes on me the whole time, leaving no doubt as to what he’s thinking about.

  “Look at you,” I say, savoring the sight.

  “It’s because I’m with you,” he whispers.

  I lick my lips. I can’t help it. This is the most delicious sight. The most decadent words.

  I crawl across the bed and kiss him hard. His kisses are the flame to my match. It’s almost dizzying, this rush of feelings, and the longer this goes on, the more delicious they become. I try to kiss him deeper, but he stills my body with a heavy hand to my chest.

  His kisses unlock something deep inside me.

  His kisses steal my breath and my mind and leave me in this blissful silence.

  He stops stroking himself and instead strokes my hair. We turn to each other, and our kisses deepen. He lets my tongue into his silky mouth, which still tastes like me, and a moan escapes my lips. He pulls my hair in response, and I moan again, louder and deeper. Following my lead, he yanks my head back and kisses my neck.

  Little explosions erupt across my skin. It’s hard to breathe, hard to focus, because I’m lost in a haze of pure intoxication. He kisses across my collarbone and up to my right ear, where he resumes making promises I’m certain he can keep.

  “I’m going to fuck you so . . . very . . . slowly,” he says.

  Goosebumps cover my body. I kiss his Adam’s apple and work my way up to his right ear. As I suck on his earlobe, he sighs heavily, his hands cupping my breasts while I lean over him to challenge, “I am going to fuck you however I want.”

  A beautiful smile breaks out across his face. “I guess we’ll see who wins, then.”

  He pins me down to the bed and uses his legs to part mine. I want to fight back, but the intensity in his gaze stops me and steals my breath. I want to follow him. I want to let him fuck me how he wants . . . before I finish him how I want.

  Leaving me there, exposed and wanting, he reaches with a long arm to retrieve a condom from the nightstand. Watching his enormous hands rip open the foil so delicately is a touchingly sexy sight. Watching them roll it down his rock-hard shaft is mesmerizing.

  And then I’m not watching his cock anymore, because he’s looming over me, and I’m giddy. Everything that’s happened up until now has been incredible, but this—this is what I’ve dreamed about for two years.

  Through all my fantasies.

  Then through the realities of our late-night talks, our stolen moments.

  He pushes gently into me, allowing my body to accept him. His girth strokes my clit from this angle.

  His first real thrust feels like coming home. A celebration of everything perfect. He fills me without hurting, he hits deep without breaking. We fall into a rhythm quickly, and slowly—just like he promised.

  Each long, slow push and pull satisfies everything inside me, something I’ve never felt before.

  Every thrust feels like music, and our sensual noises are the chorus. I was right about not needing a drink with him. The way he moves, the way he nuzzles into my neck, the faint lingering scent of his aftershave all make me dizzy and silly. He’s a whole bottle of champagne. Every thrust he sends into me feels like a love letter from his cock to my pussy.

  He pushes up to his elbows so we can watch each other’s faces as he fucks me. On deep thrusts, his eyes flutter a little, and I can feel my lips making an O that shapes the moans I couldn’t stifle if I tried. I really like those deep thrusts.

  He stares right into my eyes, right into my soul, and there’s a fire there I hadn’t seen before. I feel it down in the deepest part of me. It’s simultaneously amazing and terrifying. I need to take control again. I need some power back before I drown in him.

  I flip us over so I’m on top, my breasts rocking in front of his eyes. As his irises widen, I can tell I’m now on top in more ways than one. It’s a relief. I try to move my hips faster, to ride him toward that explosion, but he stills me with his hands. He’s so strong, but I would comply anyway. I’m incapable of denying him anything. His eyes lift back to mine, and I’m struck all over again.

  This feels like more than one night.

  This feels like more than sex.

  This feels like something I don’t know if I’m strong enough to let go of and survive.

  I need him to fuck this feeling right out of me, need to remember what this is. It’s amazing, intense, earth-shattering sex. And sex is all it’s going to be. I climb off him and turn around, offering myself on all fours.

  He’s inside me again in seconds, and in this position, he fills me even more than before, stretching me in new ways. He grabs a fistful of my hair and pulls. I squeal in delight.

  I focus on the pleasure, and oh, is he giving that to me more than I dreamed, and I had bold, dirty dreams. He puts one large hand on my back and presses me down onto my stomach, letting me conserve my strength for what’s to come.

  He snakes his hand around and under me, playing my clit as he pushes in and out, as slowly as he’d promised earlier, showing me that he’s a man of his word.

  And a man not of this world, judging from the otherworldly shudders that wrack my body from head to toe.

  He smacks my ass hard. Once, twice.

  I scream, the approaching orgasm like a rocket ship, preparing to launch me into orbit.

  “Come for me,” he says, and that’s all it takes. I can’t even see Earth anymore, as high as I am, and I’m only vaguely aware of his final thrusts as he follows me.

  It takes a few minutes for us to uncouple, him slowly sliding out of me, planting little kisses all along my shoulder and the back of my neck as he does. He gets rid of the condom then returns to me. We lie there, spooning, for another few minutes.

  Then, I tell him I’m going to use the little girls’ room.

  “Come back soon,” he whispers.

  I pad away. I need to break this spell I’m under.

  Door closed, I turn on the faucet and stare at myself in the mirror. I look as freshly fucked as I am. I allow myself one silent scream—because OMG, I banged Number Forty-Four!—before cleaning myself up.

  It’s quiet when I reenter the bedroom. He’s fallen asleep while he waited for me, his perfect body in perfect repose. One arm is slung around a pillow. I could slide right under it and drift off alongside him.

  But I can’t.

  My heart aches.

  My head pounds with the knowledge that my one secret night must end.

  This is a blessing in disguise. I slip my dress back on, the silk whispering over my skin, cooling it. I gather my clutch and take a deep breath. This is the hardest thing I will ever do, but it’s also the most necessary. I don’t even chance kissing his chiseled jaw. I simply open the door and walk out of the best night of my life.

  And I try to move on.

  But that’s impossible.

  For the next week, memories of our time together pop into my mind’s eye at the most inopportune moments, and I make every excuse I can to work from home. I can’t avoid Xavier forever, but I can avoid him until catching his eye won’t give the whole team an electric shock when the current between us snaps into place.

  Maybe.

  I tell Sage and Nadia everything one night over wine at Speakeasy.

  “Isn’t there a way you can be together?” Nadia, the problem solver, asks. She’s been that way since I’ve known her. We’ve been friends since we were kids.

  I meet her gaze, her smart, caring eyes as thoughtful as they’ve ever been. But I’m not sure even she can see a way through this predicament.

  “If there is, I can’t think of it,” I say. “It would be almost as scandalous as if you were involved with . . .”

  I pause, searching for options, when Sage wiggles her brows and jumps in. “As if Nadia fell for Wilder?”

  Nadia scoffs, shakes her head, and laughs like that’s the craziest idea ever. “That would never happen. Wilder is . . . impossible.”

  “And Xavier and I are impossible too,” I say.

  Sage hums. “But are you?”

  “Are they?” Nadia asks, her eyes twinkling, and I wonder if the two of them are up to something.