A slight whimper escaped her parted lips as she cupped my face in her hands and brought my mouth down to hers. The first kiss was tender and soft as we adjusted to one another. She was more assertive now. It was a massive turn-on.

“I want you. It’s always been you,” she whispered when we broke apart for air.

Our kiss went from gentle to explosive in the span of fifteen seconds. I couldn’t get close enough. Not only did I knock my walls down, but I kicked them out of the way to get to her. She felt so familiar in my arms, but I noticed subtle differences as well. Her breasts were fuller, her hips had widened, but her waist was still small and her skin so smooth. I kissed her neck and reached down to unlatch the button of her jeans. I was moving too fast after practically giving her a PowerPoint presentation of the reasons why we had to wait.

Instead, I slid my hand under her sweater and smiled at her body heat. I had touched dozens of women in my life, but I had Parker’s body memorized. The small mole on her ribcage, the way chill bumps followed my touch like it was a race to get to the sensitive spots first, and the way she bit her bottom lip when my hand got closer to her breast. She smelled like sweet orange blossom and a hint of vanilla. I slid both hands down the curve of her lower back, into the band of her jeans, and squeezed her ass. I pulled her flush against me, wishing our clothes were off and we were somewhere private. I wasn’t the shy teenager who worried if I was doing something wrong anymore. Parker’s body squirmed against me for friction and her small, breathless moans made every part of my body hum with desire and need. I was two seconds from pulling her into the study when a rapid, but low, insistent knock on the front door interrupted us.

“Why aren’t they answering the door?” a man’s voice asked.

Parker put her hand on her chest and stared at me in alarm. My imagination exploded. Grayson was in a wreck, or he got pulled over. Or it was Bill who had found out about Grayson and my involvement in his marriage. To be fair, other coaches had hidden worse behavior in the past. I followed Parker to the door. She opened it.

“You never answered your phone. We’ve been calling all night,” a woman said.

Fuck my life. The O’Neals stood in the doorway with suitcases in hand. I had no choice but to stand there and wait until the recognition hit them. Ginger O’Neal did not disappoint. Her lips curled back in a sneer. If I didn’t have the upper hand of having recognized her first, I would have cowered.