Page 8 of Penalty for Boarding

“And I thought I made it clear that there's nothin’ professional about the way I feel about you, Olivia.”

“But I work for the Fury—we live in different cities—and you're...” She trails off, letting out a sigh as she sets her glass back on the counter.

“I'm what? A player on another team? A client? A friend?” I set my glass down too then take a step closer, my fingers reaching out to tangle with hers. “I don't wanna be just any of those things, Olivia. I wanna be yours.”

“Calvin.” Her voice is barely a whisper as she looks down at our joined hands, her fingers moving against mine. “I don’t think it’s that simple.”

I lean in closer, my other hand finding its way to the small of her back, pulling her gently toward me. “Nothing worth havin’ ever is.” I move my mouth closer to hers, our breaths mingling in the space between us. “Just one kiss, Olivia,” I plead, my lips brushing against hers as I speak. “That's all I'm askin’ for.”

Her eyelids flutter shut, but she doesn’t pull away. “There are rules, Calvin, boundaries. If anyone found out...”

“Then we don't let them,” I whisper, pulling her flush against me. She gasps as she feels my hard length pressed against her, but she doesn't protest. Instead, she parts her lips ever so slightly. It's all the invitation I need.

I capture her mouth with mine, my lips moving against hers in a hungry, desperate kiss. Our teeth clash together, tongues tangling. My hands roam her body, feeling the curve of her hips, the dip of her lower back, the swell of her breasts. She responds with equal fervor, her fingers roaming until they tighten against my shirt and she pulls me closer.

Goddamn, this woman can kiss. Her lips are soft yet firm, demanding yet giving. If I didn’t think this woman was my future before, I certainly do now. Her taste, her touch, the feeling of her body pressed against mine. It’s fucking everything.

With my fingers threading into the back of her hair, I deepen the kiss, my tongue exploring her mouth as if it's charting undiscovered territory—territory I want to claim as my own.

Olivia moans softly into my mouth, her hands pulling at the waist of my shirt, seeking skin. I groan and drop my hand to her ass, tugging her flush against me, the pressure of her body to mine driving me wild.

I want to devour her, consume her entirely. But as much as I want to pick her up and march us both straight to her bedroom, I force myself to slow down, to savor the build up. This woman is my future, and I have no interest in rushing through this.

“Olivia.” My lips trail from her mouth to her jawline, peppering kisses along the way. She tilts her head back, giving me better access to the smooth column of her neck.

“Oh, Calvin,” she breathes, her fingers sliding into my hair. “We really shouldn't...”

I pause, my mouth hovering over her pulse point. I can feel her heart racing beneath my lips. “Then tell me to stop,” I rasp, sucking gently. My hand moves to cup the side of her head as Idrag my lips over her skin until my mouth is near her ear. “Tell me you don't feel this, that you don't want me as much as I want you. And I'll walk away. I'll never bring it up again.”

I pull away just enough to look into her eyes, to search for any hint of resistance. But there’s none there. All I see are dilated pupils, swollen lips and flushed skin as she stares back at me, chest heaving.

“I can't,” she says finally. “I can’t tell you that, Calvin. Because it would be a lie. I do feel this. I do want you. More than I've ever wanted anyone.”

“Thank fuck.” Relief floods through me as I drop my forehead to hers. “Because I’ve gotta be honest, doc, I wasn’t plannin’ on taking no for an answer. From the moment I saw you, you were already mine. I’ve just waitin’ for you to catch on.”

OLIVIA

“I'm not sure what's so smile-inducing about a dislocated patella,” my patient, Beckett “Beck” Holloway, the star forward of the Fury, says as I examine his knee. “You do realize I'm in pain, right?”

I chuckle and lift my gaze to his. “I do know. And I'm sorry, Beck. I'll school my features in future. Does this work better?” I knit my brow into a tight scowl and go back to his knee, causing him to half laugh, half hiss from the pain.

“Yeah. That's more like it,” he says, wincing as I gently manipulate his knee. “But seriously, doc, what's got you in such a good mood? You're usually all business.”

I pause, my hands stilling on his leg. The truth is, I can't stop thinking about last night with Calvin. The way his lips felt against mine, the way his hands roamed my body and made me feel like I was the only woman in the world. We'd stayed up for hours, drinking a little wine in between talking, laughing, and kissing—there wasa lotof kissing. So much so that my lips are a little sore today, but I’d trade any ache for that euphoric warmth filling my chest now. I clear my throat, forcing myself to focus on Beck's injury and not on the memory of Calvin’s touch.

“I'm just…” I pause, my smile taking over my lips again. “You know what, Beck. You don’t need to know my personal stuff. Let’s keep the focus on this knee of yours.”

“Noooo,” he complains. “You can’t tease me like that, Dr. Angelo. You’ve gotta give me something! I’m in pain here.”

“I can give you a shot of Tramadol and some ice. That'll take care of the pain, but I’m afraid it won’t ease your curiosity.” I smirk at his desperate expression.

“That is just mean.” He folds his arms and pouts like a petulant child.

“Life’s full of mean moments, Beck. You should know that by now,” I tease as I apply the ice pack over his knee, which only makes him huff in exaggerated offense.

“Yeah, but not from my favorite sports medicine doc! I thought we had something special,” he quips, his brow arching in mock betrayal.

I level him with my best deadpan stare, though the corners of my mouth are twitching just beneath the surface. “You’re just as special to me as every other player on the team. I don’t play favorites.”

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