Page 108 of On His Team

I point behind him. “Lock it.”

His eyebrows rise. “Why?”

I stare at him.

Rowan reaches back without taking his eyes off me and turns the lock. That little click goes straight through me. I cross the room before I can think too hard about what I’m doing and grab the back of his neck. He lets me pull him down.

Our mouths meet, and there is no nervous first-kiss hesitation this time. Rowan knows exactly what I want because we did this last night, and apparently a single night was enough for both of us to skip the careful part.

His hand finds my waist. Mine goes into his wet hair.

I kiss him harder.

He gives it back.

This is what I wanted all day. Not a conversation about it. Not a label. Not somebody telling me what Rowan might mean or might feel.

Just this. His mouth. His hands.

The fact that he is kissing me because he wants to, with nobody standing here asking him what we’re doing.

I smile against him.

He pulls back barely enough to ask, “What?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re laughing again.”

“I’m happy.”

He looks at me for a second. There is something about saying it that makes me suddenly shy, which is ridiculous considering we’re breathing each other’s air.

His expression softens. “Good.”

I kiss him before he can say anything else.

He backs me into the door. One of his hands lands flat beside my head while the other slides around my waist, and the kiss turns heavier so quickly that I lose track of whatever plan I came upstairs with.

Eight minutes.

Right.

I pull back enough to breathe. “I have like six minutes.”

Rowan laughs into my jaw. “You timed this?”

“I planned responsibly.”

“That’s new.”

“Shut up.”

His mouth moves beneath my ear. I stop caring about the joke. My head tips back against the door, and his lips move slowly along my neck. It’s nothing particularly obscene. It shouldn’t feel as good as it does. But it does. My fingers tighten in his hair.

He stops. I feel his smile against my skin.

“Don’t.”