Page 89 of The Wrong Quarterback

I sighed, sinking into the pleasure, his groan spreading warmth across my skin.

“I love you, Casey,” he said, his pace speeding up as his fingers led me into a rolling, delicious orgasm. My hips moved with him, like he’d possessed me or reprogrammed me so that we’d always be perfectly in sync.

“I’m going to have all of you, baby. Every part of you is going to belong to me,” he whispered against my skin. And maybe I should have been alarmed at the possessiveness in his voice. At the words he continued to say that told me this love he was claiming…it was laced with an obsession as well.

He groaned, his tongue licking along my shoulder as he filled me once again. Parker shuddered against me, his breath warming my skin as his fingers slid along where we were connected.

“I love you,” he whispered again, as I fell back into a deep, dreamless sleep where I was safe and loved…by him.

PARKER

I think if you weren’t at least a little nervous before you stepped into your head coach’s office…you were doing something wrong. Although the fact that I’d just left Casey naked in bed, after the best morning of my life, was definitely helping with those nerves.

He called me in after practice, barely glancing up from his desk as I stepped inside. The door clicked shut behind me, and I got the sense this wasn’t going to be a quick pep talk. Coach Everett leaned back in his chair, eyeing me over a stack of playbooks with this strange, hard-to-read expression.

Coach had the build of an ex-lineman who never quite let himself go—broad shoulders, a bit of a gut, but still solid. His face was weathered, with deep-set eyes that held a permanent squint, like he’d spent too many years staring down sunlight and tough decisions. Gray hair peeked out from under his cap, and his jaw was almost always clenched, a rough scowl marking his features, even when he was pleased.

“Davis,” he started, his voice gruff. “I need to know if your head’s on straight.”

I straightened up, bracing myself. “Yes, sir. Is there a problem?”

He held my gaze for a beat longer, like he was trying to read my mind, then sighed, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “Look, Parker, you’re the most talented quarterback I’ve had come through here. You could have it all—the records, the scouts drooling over you, number one in the draft. I mean, all of it.”

“Thank you, sir,” I said, nodding. I’d heard this before, but I could tell there was something else eating at him.

He shifted in his chair, clearing his throat, looking more uncomfortable by the second. “Rumor is,” he said, his voice dropping like he didn’t want anyone else in the world to overhear, “you’re pretty serious about a girl. Real serious.”

I couldn’t stop the grin from stretching across my face. “Yeah, Coach. As a matter of fact, I am.”

His brows shot up, just a little. “Girls can be distracting. You’re a junior in college, with your whole life in front of you…you’ve been behaving out of character lately.” He hesitated. “Are you sure this girl is a good idea?”

“She’s not a distraction,” I said as I leaned back in the chair, crossing my arms, feeling that rush of satisfaction hit me just from saying it out loud. “She’s my future wife.”

Coach blinked, stunned, his mouth opening and then closing like he wasn’t sure what to say next. “And, uh, does she know that?”

“Not yet,” I replied, smirking. “But she will.”

Coach let out a heavy breath, leaning back in his chair, just staring at me, like he was trying to figure out if I was kidding…or if I’d lost my mind. “Davis, one wrong move…one little slip-up, and this could all blow up in your face. You know that, right? You’re putting a hell of a lot on the line here.”

I nodded, my face dead serious. “I’ve got it all under control, Coach. Trust me.”

He shook his head, but there was a hint of a smile hiding beneath his usual scowl. “Yeah, I’m sure you think you do,” he muttered, picking up a pen and tapping it on his desk. “Now get the hell outta my office. I’ve got work to do.”

I pushed up out of the chair, feeling that surge of energy that only Casey could give me, even just talking about her. “Thanks, Coach.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled, waving me off. But as I hit the door, I heard him mutter under his breath, “Damn kid sounds like a fucking psychopath.”

I grinned, letting the door click shut behind me…because maybe I was.

CHAPTER 22

CASEY

There was a knock on my door, and a smile was instantly on my lips thinking it was Parker. I swung it open, expecting his gorgeous grin, but my stomach dropped when I saw Gray standing there instead.

He stared at me with an intensity that made me uncomfortable. It was something that I’d wanted not that long ago, but now it felt all wrong. “Casey,” he breathed, a trace of desperation in his voice. “I miss you. And I’m willing to do anything, anything, to get you back.”

I bit down on my lip hard, keeping my face neutral, refusing to let him see the ripple of uncertainty stirring in my chest. “Gray, this isn’t?—”

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