“Say my name,” he commanded, breaking the kiss, his voice rough and needy and so damn hungry for her.

“Nate,” she moaned, as he gripped her hips.

“Say it again. Say my name as you come. Tell me who’s fucking you.”

“You are, Nate. You are. You’re fucking me. You’re touching me. You’re making me feel this way. You,” she said, grasping his shoulders to hold onto as she rocked wildly against his cock, as wave after endless wave rocketed through her, electric desire sweeping across every cell in her body and bathing her brain in endless bliss. He chased her there, thrusting powerfully once more into her, his hands digging into her hair, gripping her head as he groaned and grunted, and then called out her name as he came.

Minutes later she was still wrapped around him, not wanting to let go, when she became aware of the white noise of cheers and claps from behind the glass. She tensed for a moment, thinking, even though it was crazy, that everyone at the ballpark was aware of what they had done. But when she craned her neck and looked out the window she simply saw that the game had ended and the Yankees had won. She turned back to Nate and the look in his eyes was one she hadn’t seen before.

She couldn’t pinpoint what that emotion was exactly. But it matched the way he’d looked at her earlier, when she’d first sunk down on him. She feathered her hand against his chest, wishing she could capture that emotion, study it, and know what to do with it.

“Hi,” she whispered.

“Hi.”

“I’m glad you came back.”

“Me too. How was it?” he asked, gesturing from him to her.

“Are you really asking me?” She tilted her head to the side. “Wasn’t it obvious?”

He nodded and smiled broadly, a big satisfied grin on his gorgeous face. “It was obvious. I still want to hear it from you.”

She dropped a quick kiss on his lips. “It was amazing. You’re going to ruin me for anyone else.”

“Good.”

“No! It’s terrible,” she said jokingly. But she wasn’t entirely joking when she added, softly, “No one will compare to you.”

“Again, that is good.”

She laced her fingers through his hair, watching him as he relaxed into the softness of her touch, and the sweet unwinding from the intensity of their coming together. “You were really good with the whole jealous lover act,” she said.

He raised an eyebrow. “I was?”

She nodded. “Yeah, I believed it.”

“You did?” He furrowed his brow at first, then understanding dawned and he slowly nodded.

“You seemed so jealous,” she said, trying her best to make it self-evident in her tone that they were talking around the truth without having to fully admit anything. She hoped he understood all that she meant.

“What if I really was that jealous?”

“I like that too. I liked that you felt that way.”

“You do?”