A whimper escaped from the back of my throat as his tongue brushed against mine, pushing deeper into my mouth. He caressed my jaw, then moved his hand to my nape. Gripping the roots of my hair, he secured my head in place and moved his mouth against mine, deepening the kiss until I was completely lost in him.

A wave of desire unlike anything I’d ever experienced crashed over me. It was heady and intoxicating, relentless and persistent, growing stronger with every sweep of his tongue.

I slid my hands to his lower back, palms resting on the stacks of lean muscle. Drawing in a jagged breath, Chase grabbed the backs of my thighs and set me on the tabletop. Then he nudged my knees apart and positioned himself between my legs until our bodies were flush, creating a delicious hint of friction where we touched.

Heat pooled between my legs, wanting and needing, as he pressed against me. I took his bottom lip between my teeth, and a low rumble emanated from his chest. He skimmed my bare stomach with his fingertips, tracing the waistband of my jeans, and a pulse settled between my thighs.

In the background, laughter spilled out from in the living room, snapping me back into the present. I’d all but forgotten where we were.

We broke apart, breathless. My heart roared in my ears.

He shook his head, voice husky. “You’re killing me, James.”

“Why’s that?” I whispered.

Chase lowered his head, planting a row of kisses down my neck. “Because I don’t want to stop. But if I keep kissing you,” he murmured against my skin, “I won’t be fit to be around other people for a good, long while.”

He pulled back and smoothed my hair with a playful grin. “Later, it’ll be a different story.”

* * *

After some distraction in the form of our impromptu make-out session, food, and video games, Chase’s mood improved significantly. But I did kick his ass at NHL again—and Dallas’s.

Chase and Tyler thought it was hilarious. Siobhan was stifling giggles, or at least attempting to. And Dallas was furious, which only added to our collective amusement.

“Ooh, want some cream for that burn?” Tyler laughed, taking a swig of his beer. “She schooled you both.”

“How?” Dallas threw the white game controller onto the empty leather armchair beside him, slapping his leg. He turned to Chase and me, throwing a hand in the air. “Like, what just happened?”

Chase shrugged, giving me a lazy grin. “I’m pretty sure she’s a wizard.”

“That’s what happens when you grow up with three older brothers.”

“Rematch,” Dallas declared, picking up the controller again. He navigated back into the main menu and opened the settings. “The game is rigged,” he muttered, squinting at the screen. “Something’s wrong with it.”