Page 30 of Dump Tackle My Heart
“Fuck—I want that too, but Dani,” he groans, his voice rough and low, “I didn’t bring condoms. Didn’t want to be presumptuous.”
That gets me.
That tiny bit of restraint.
The thoughtfulness.
He could’ve assumed.
He’s gorgeous, built like a fantasy, and I’ve already had my hands all over him.
But he didn’t.
He didn’t assume.
He didn’t plan to sleep with me.
He just hoped.
And somehow that makes it so much worse.
So much better.
I could cry. Or kiss him. Or both.
“It’s okay,” I whisper, fingers trailing down his back. “I know the team had physicals last week. And I’m on the pill. I’m clean, Hudson. I swear.”
He doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t get defensive. Just cups my cheek and nods, voice quiet.
“I know you are, Sweetheart. I wasn’t questioning that. But do you mean it? Would you let me take you bare?”
My throat tightens. “Yes. I want you, and well, you should know there’s been no one but you for a long time.”
The silence that follows isn’t awkward.
It’s weighty. Meaningful.
“There’s been no one but you for me too, Sweetheart,” he says, his words dragging across my skin like velvet and wildfire.
“No one else since the first day I saw you.”
“You don’t have to?—”
“Dani,” he cuts me off gently, his fingers cradling my jaw, “I wouldn’t lie to you. There’s never been anyone like this. No one who got under my skin like you. No one I think about like this.”
And fool or not, I believe him.
Every word.
“Okay,” I breathe, my voice so soft I barely hear it myself. “I believe you.”
Then I reach for him, sliding my hand into his hair, dragging his mouth to mine like I’ve been dying for the taste.
Our kiss is messy, hungry, wet—full of all the things we haven’t said and all the things we’re finally brave enough to admit.
He shifts his body, and I feel him there—thick, hard, andso right.
My legs fall open as instinct takes over, and he groans as he sinks just barely against my entrance, not quite pushing inside yet.
