Page 165 of On His Team

His hand moves lower, and I let myself stop thinking. I try. I think constantly about what something means, about whether I’m doing too much, about what happens next, about whether this is a smart idea.

Rowan has somehow become one of the only people who makes that easier. He doesn’t ask me to stop talking. He doesn’t act like I’m overwhelming. He just waits until I’m ready and then keeps going.

By the time we’re both completely undressed, I’m not thinking much at all. I’m just in my body, and apparently, he knows exactly what to do with it. He reaches toward the nightstand. I grab his wrist.

He stops immediately.

I say, “The condoms are in the drawer.”

He looks at me. “You’re prepared.”

“I knew you were coming over.”

That gets a blush. Then he stands and goes to the drawer. There is an awkward fifteen seconds involving a box that refuses to open correctly.

I start laughing. “You’re fighting cardboard. Do you need help?”

“No.”

“Sure?”

He finally gets it open.

I clap softly. “Proud of you.”

His eyes drop to me, and then I watch as he slides the condom on.

I’m still smiling when he moves over me again. Then I’m not. The humor leaves naturally. His hand brushes my hair away from my face.

“Tell me if you want me to stop.”

I grab his face. “I won’t want you to.”

He kisses me. He positions himself and looks at me one more time.

I nod.

Then he pushes inside me. The first stretch makes my breath catch.

Rowan stops. “Okay?”

“Yeah.”

He waits anyway.

I wrap my arms around his shoulders and pull him closer. I breathe, “Keep going.”

He does. Slowly.

I feel every inch of it.

My eyes close. “Fuck.”

Rowan exhales against my neck. “Yeah?”

I moan, “Yeah.”

He moves again.