cupping the sides of my neck and effectively cutting me off in the sweetest way possible. “Me, too,” she admitted against my lips. “I want whatever this is.”
“It’s a relationship,” I clarified, needing her to know exactly what I meant. If I was being honest, I needed to hear her say it, too.
“It’s a relationship,” she agreed, then kissed me softly, sucking on my lower lip.
Relief coursed through my veins, and I pulled her against me, my hands sinking into her hair as I kissed her long and deep. She tasted like the apple cider we’d had just outside the maze, and that unique, sweet flavor that was all London.
She moaned and laced her fingers behind my neck, tilting her head to give us that perfect angle as I kissed her over and over. Fuck, this never got old. Every kiss was better. We hadn’t tired of each other or fallen into a routine, either. Every time I touched her somehow felt new and yet comfortably familiar at the same time. She felt like…home.
Her tongue rubbed against mine, and I lost myself in the kiss just like I did every time.
A kid laughed somewhere in the maze, and London ripped her mouth away. We were both breathing heavy and my dick was pretty much a steel pipe in my jeans.
“Let’s go,” she said, gripping my hand. “The faster we get out of here, the faster I can get you naked.”
“Excellent plan.”
We made it out of the maze without her anxiety spiking once, and I kissed her breathless against the door of my car, unable to wait another minute.
It was getting harder and harder to keep my hands to myself when we were in public, not just here at the maze, but at the arena, and on the plane on the way to away games. Briggs was right. We were slipping.
At some point, we were going to be outed.
I just hoped London was ready for it, because now that I had her, I wasn’t letting her go—damn the consequences.
12
London
“What is that delicious smell?” Jansen asked, letting himself in my front door with the key I’d given him a month ago under the condition that he always text first to make sure Caz wasn’t here. He dropped his gear bag in the entryway, his long stride eating up the space between us in seconds. “Besides you, of course,” he said, scooping me up against him. My feet dangled off the floor, and I shivered against this chest.
“Cookies,” I said into his neck as I held him right back.
We’d only been apart one night, but it felt like a lifetime. We’d adapted this incredibly comfortable, exciting, intoxicating routine over the past month, and every time he “came home” to me, I lost myself a little bit more for this man.
“Snickerdoodles?” he asked, gently returning me to my feet.
I grinned up at him. “Now, why on earth would I make your favorite cookie,” I teased, heading back to the kitchen to check the oven. They were two minutes away from being done.
He followed me, snaking his arms around me from behind. He brought my spine flush against his chest, and I arched into him, my body instinctively craving his. “Because,” he said, his lips at the shell of my ear. “You know I’m a sucker for your cookies. You know I’ll do anything to get a taste.”
My lips parted on a gasp, heat unfurling low in my belly. It had been a month of this. This never-ending, never-quenched thirst for the man who simultaneously infuriated me, challenged me, and turned me into a helpless, wild string of pure need. And I had no idea if the inferno between us would ever settle into a softer ember, but goddamn, I relished what we had now.
I spun in his embrace, reaching up on my tiptoes, my mouth inching toward his. He met me halfway, but I paused, lingering in that space just above his lips. “It sounds like I have you wrapped entirely around my finger,” I teased, gently taking his bottom lip between my teeth.
He growled, smoothing his hands over my hips and around to cup my ass. I squealed when he squeezed and hefted me up, forcing me to lock my ankles behind his back. He turned, situating me on my kitchen counter. “Is that right?” His voice was low, and that smirk was on his lips as he rubbed his hands up my thighs. The heat from his hands sizzled through my leggings.
“That’s