Page 41 of Trade It All

Chapter 18

Dean

Thesecondherhandsfind my neck, it’s over.

The three years I spent convincing myself I was too old, too professional, toocalculatedfor her? They vanish. The leash I’ve kept on my own throat since the day she started working for the team doesn’t just fray—it disintegrates. I’ve spent every practice and every late-night meeting cataloging the way she breathes, and now that I finally have her mouth under mine, I’m done being the bigger man.

I break the kiss just an inch, my forehead resting against hers, my breath coming in jagged, shallow hits. I can feel her heart hammering against my chest—a frantic, beautiful rhythm that I intend to own by the time the sun comes up.

"Look at me, Maddie," I rasp.

She opens her eyes, and they’re glassy, dark with a hunger that matches my own. It wrecks me. It makes the possessive, territorial beast I’ve kept caged roar to life.

"You have no idea what you just started," I whisper, my thumbs tracing the line of her jaw, tilting her face up. "I’ve stood by for three years and watched you become the most incredible woman I’ve ever known, and I didn't touch. I told myself you were off-limits. But that's over now."

I slide my hands down, fisting them in the hem of her shirt, and I don't ask. I pull it over her head in one fluid motion, my eyes roaming over her like I’m seeing the sun for the first time.

"Beautiful," I breathe, the word a vow. "So goddamn beautiful, Baby."

I move her back against the cushions of the couch, my frame eclipsing the light in the room until I’m the only thing she can see. I’m not just kissing her now; I’m claiming her. I’m an expert at reading people, at knowing exactly where their breaking point is, and I’m going to find hers tonight.

"You’re shaking," I note, my voice dropping into that low, coaching register—the one that demands focus. "Is it because you’re cold, or is it because you’ve been thinking about my hands on you as much as I’ve been thinking about yours?"

I don't wait for an answer. I lean down, my mouth trailing a path of fire from her ear to the hollow of her throat, where I can feel her pulse fluttering like a trapped bird.

"I’m going to give you everything you’ve been dreaming of," I promise, my hand sliding down to the button of her jeans, my thumb applying just enough pressure to make her gasp. "But you’re going to do exactly what I tell you. You’re going to take every bit of the pleasure I’m about to give you, and you’re going to tell me how much you like it. Understood?"

I look up, my gaze locking onto hers, letting her see the man behind the whistle. The man who is absolutely, terrifyingly obsessed with her.

"Say it, Baby. Tell me you understand that you’re mine tonight."

I don't wait for her to answer with words. Her eyes are wide, her chest heaving, and the small, shattered sound she makes when my thumb brushes over the seam of her jeans is all the confirmation I need.

"That's my girl," I murmur, my voice dropping an octave as I lean in, my nose brushing hers. "I want to hear everything, Maddie. Every breath, every moan. If I’m doing something you like, you let me know. You don't hide a single thing from me tonight."

"Dean..." she whimpers, her head falling back against the cushion as I finally pop the button of her denim. "I've... I've thought about this for so long."

"I know you have, Baby. But your imagination didn't do me justice. Let me show you."

I don't rush. I’m a coach; I know that the best plays are built on a solid foundation. I slide my hand inside the denim, my palm flat against her stomach first, feeling the way she trembles under my touch. When I finally slide lower, finding her slick and scorching hot, I let out a low, rough growl of pure satisfaction.

"God, you're so ready for me," I rasp, my fingers beginning a slow, rhythmic exploration that has her back arching off the couch. "Tell me, Maddie. Tell me how that feels."

"It’s... it's too much," she gasps, I start to pull out some but her fingers tangling in my hair, pulling me closer. Her voice is thick, breathy, and completely undone. "Please... don't stop. It feels... perfect."

"Perfect is just the start," I promise, picking up the pace, my eyes locked on her face so I don't miss a single flicker of her expression. I want to memorize this—the way her lips part, the way her eyes go glassy. I’m not just getting her off; I’m marking her. I’m making sure that from this second on, no one else will ever be enough.

She's sobbing my name now, her hips stuttering against my hand in a frantic, beautiful rhythm. I can feel the tension winding up in her, the way her internal muscles are starting to clamp down.

"That's it, Baby. Give it to me. Show me how much you want this."

When she finally breaks, her body shuddering under mine, I catch her scream with my mouth, kissing her deeply as she comes apart. I don't give her time to recover. Before she can even catch her breath, I’m sliding my arms under her knees and her back, hauling her up into my chest.

"Dean?" she murmurs, her voice dazed and sweet.

"I've got you," I say, my voice a dark, steady vow. I start toward the bedroom, my grip on her possessive and unyielding. "The couch was just the warm-up, Maddie. We’re going to my bed now, and I’m going to show you exactly what 'forever' looks like."

She doesn't know it yet. She thinks this is a night she’s finally allowed herself to have. She doesn't realize that I’ve already decided. I’m not just crossing the line tonight—I’m moving the line so far she’ll never find her way back to a life without me in it.