Page 60 of Chips & Checks
I clamp my teeth together so that I don’t accidentally let slip what I’m thinking: that this feels right. Safe.Perfect.That I want to be more than a convenience for him.
I want this to matter to him as much as it’s starting to matter to me.
His hips shift, the rhythm picking up—not rough, but full. Intentional. Every thrust lands like he’s giving me something he never gives away. My hands slide up his back, nails digging into his shoulders as I brace for another wave. His breath turns ragged against my skin.
“I’m close,” he murmurs, voice tight. “You gonna come with me, Vi?”
I nod. Too fast. Too eager.
He reaches between us, his thumb circling just right, and I break apart again—softer this time, but deeper. A cry claws its way out of my throat, and Bowen follows with a groan thatsounds like surrender. His body goes rigid, buried deep as he pulses inside me.
For a few seconds, the only sound is our breathing. Harsh. Tangled. In sync.
Then he collapses beside me, arm still hooked around my waist like he doesn’t want to let go.
And that’s when it hits me.
I am falling. Fast. Maybe already gone. This isn’t supposed to happen, not with him. Not with anyone. But here I am, curled against a man who swore he wouldn’t stay, and I’m praying he doesn’t leave.
Because I don’t want to be his rule breaker. I want to be his reason.
Chapter Fourteen
Bowen
I wake to the sound of a phone on the far side of the bed. I don’t know that ringtone. All I know is that I’m cozy and comfortable and utterly at peace.
A second ring makes the warm bundle of blankets next to me groan and shift. “Why?” Violet whines. “It’s soearly.”
Last night comes back to me in pieces as Violet squirms out of my arms and reaches for her phone. She clears her throat twice before speaking.
“Hello, this is Violet Sawyer.”
The blanket has slid down her shoulder to reveal the smooth skin of her back, the curved dip of her spine, the swell of a hip. I want to wrap my arms around her and pull her back to me, to press my face into her hair and rock my hips against her perfect ass.
Her voice startles me out of my sleepy, horny fog. “Really? Is that what he said?”
I can only make out a drone of a voice through the speaker, but without enough clarity to tell me who exactly is talking. Violet swings her legs over the edge of the bed and wraps the corner of the blanket around her shoulders.
“I’ve already talked to Renee… yes, I understand. If he feels that way, why not transfer him to another PT?”
That’s when I realize that she’s talking about Chad. NottoChad, thank goodness. Given the lack of screaming, it’s probably not Dante, either. Most likely, that means it’s the team doctor.
“Yes, I recognize that with his head injuries, he’d prefer to see me—”
“I’ll give him another head injury,” I mutter.
Violet slaps her hand over the receiver and turns to glare at me. I lift my hands in self-defense. She draws her finger across her throat and turns her back to me again.
“Understood. Before the game? Two o’clock? Yes, I’ll be there. Mm-hmm. Yes. No, that won’t be necessary. Thank you.” She hangs up, drops her professional phone demeanor, and flops backward onto the bed with a groan. “Fucking Chad.”
“Now what?” I ask.
She grabs one of the pillows, covers her face with it, and screams. After about thirty seconds, she tosses the pillow aside again. “He told the team doctor that I’ve been neglecting his care, so now I’m scheduled with him for a special pre-game session.”
“Chad lied to the team doctor just to get extra time with you?” I scoot closer. “Vi—”
“I’ll call Eric and make sure he’s there.”
