Page 164 of On His Team

He nods.

That simple. My stomach flips anyway. I stand. Rowan follows. I take three steps down the hall before he catches my hand. I look back. He isn’t smiling.

“You okay?”

That settles me more than anything else could. “Yeah.”

“You sure?”

I nod. “Yes.”

He squeezes my hand once. Then I pull him into my bedroom. The door shuts behind us. I kiss him first. It gets me out of my head and back into my body. His hands settle at my waist, then move slowly beneath my shirt, and I can feel the difference in him too. There’s no rush. No joking about somebody coming home. No adrenaline from being in the wrong room at the wrong time.

Just Rowan.

His mouth.

His hands.

The way he keeps checking my face without making a thing out of it.

I pull my shirt over my head. His eyes drop. That still makes me nervous.

“You’ve seen me naked.”

“Not enough.”

I laugh. “That was smooth.”

“I wasn’t trying.”

“Of course you weren’t.”

His mouth curves.

I reach for his shirt. “Your turn.”

He takes it off.

Rowan is built exactly like somebody who has spent most of his life skating into other men at full speed. Broad shoulders. Heavy chest. Thick arms. A body that feels almost unfair because he walks around acting like none of it exists.

I touch him. His stomach tightens.

I smile. “Are you okay?”

He nods and kisses me before I can keep talking.

We make it to the bed. There’s a moment when I’m underneath him, and his hand slides down my stomach, and everything in me goes very quiet.

“G.”

“Don’t stop,” I whisper. I grab his hand, pushing it lower. “Touch me.”

He follows my lead, touching me where I shiver.

“That okay?” he murmurs against my neck.

I nod.