He’d called her Angel. Kat could barely breathe, and it had absolutely nothing to do with the 250-pound linebacker currently lying on top of her. He’d called her Angel. Why? All they did was fight and annoy the shit out of each other. Where had the term of endearment come from? Maybe it was just the haze of lust and epically good sex talking. That could totally be it. She wondered if he even realized he’d said it. But it was still confusing as hell. She’d been so mad at him last night that she hadn’t even wanted to be in the same room with him. And she’d promised herself that after all the bullshit he’d said, this wasn’t happening again. Not ever. Now, here she lay. His cock still tucked inside her, his body covering her, his arms holding her. And a part of her didn’t want it to end. Because he’d also apologized. More than that, he’d made it clear that he’d flown off the handle because he was worried about her.
