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"Laney!" He pounds on the bathroom door.
"Hold your horses, Weston Davies!" I shout through the door.
"Open the door, angel," he pleads.
I shut the water off and pop the lock, pulling it open.
His gray eyes meet mine, relief flooding them. He looks so handsome, and so relieved to see me standing here. His gaze runs all over me as if checking to make sure I'm really here.
"Hi."
He rushes me, making me squeal.
Half a second later, I'm in his arms, and the door slams closed behind us.
His mouth slashes down on mine, possessing it again. I wrap my legs around his waist. With all his equipment on, it's hard to get a good grip on him, but he seems to have the situation in hand. Literally. His hands are all over my ass.
"I missed you so much," I say, breaking away from his lips to kiss all over his face. I don't even care that he's all sweaty and gross. He's here, and I'm in his arms, and nothing else matters in the least.
"I was going fucking crazy," he whispers back, trying to touch me everywhere simultaneously. "I thought…. Hell, I don't know what I thought. I was worried out of my mind when you didn't answer my calls."
"I was trying to surprise you," I say between kisses. "It didn't work out so well."
"You're here. Seems perfect to me, cutie pie."
"You're kind of hot in this uniform."
"Yeah? I'll be even hotter for you when I get out of it," he growls, making me laugh. And then he wraps his arms aroundme, holding me to his body. He presses his sweaty head to my chest. "Christ, I missed you, Laney."
"The press knows about us."
"I know."
"I don't care," I say.
He jerks upright, his eyes meeting mine.
I place my hands on his cheeks, smiling. "I want them to know you're all mine, superstar. I don't want to hide you or go slow or take baby steps or any of that nonsense. I want to go to your games and play hooky from work and be crazy in love with you. I just wantyou. I love you."
"You're serious?"
"So serious," I whisper.
His lashes flutter, his expression going soft.
"Fuck. I love you." He presses his mouth to mine in another scorching hot kiss.
We spend a long time making out like teenagers. I try to grind against him because I'm horny and he's hot, but his stupid equipment makes it way less fun than it was last time.
"Jesus Christ, you're killing me, Laney," he growls and then kisses me again like he can't stop himself.
"Ask me," I whisper when he finally lets me up for breath this time.
His gray eyes flash to mine again.
"Ask me," I repeat.
"No."
