Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 119005 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 595(@200wpm)___ 476(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119005 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 595(@200wpm)___ 476(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
“Fuck, fuck,” Callan panted, holding my hips in his bruising grasp.
I gripped my thighs against his hips, my fingernails digging into the desk behind me, and I braced.
He fucked me. His expression dark, his upper lip curled in a snarl as he watched my face as he thrust into me in fast, hard, powerful drives.
Cries fell from my lips as I gasped for breath, the tension tightening and tightening with lightning quickness.
There were no words, none of his usual encouragement to come.
Just intense, needful fucking.
My climax tore through me, my inner muscles clamping down hard on Callan.
He shuddered with a long, gruff groan as I felt him release inside me.
I reached for him, planting my head against his chest as I tried to catch my breath.
After a moment or two, he gently pulled out. “Stay there,” he said quietly as he tucked himself back into his shorts and rounded the desk, searching through the drawers for something.
“Where are we?”
“Assistant coach’s office.”
I grimaced. “Oops.”
Callan chuckled, apparently far more relaxed now that he’d expelled his anger into my body.
He returned with tissues, eyes on me as he pressed them between my legs, his touch tender, his expression even more so.
It wasn’t until I had my clothes back on and we’d returned to the locker room that I asked reluctantly, “Do you resent me?”
Callan’s expression flashed with regret, and he pulled me into his arms, holding me close as he brushed his thumb over my cheekbone. “Princess, no. No, I could never resent you. I thought after a while this would feel easier.”
“What would feel easier?”
“Loving you.”
Pain ricocheted across my heart. “It’s not easy?”
“No, that’s not what I mean. I mean … it’s so overwhelming. I’m not me without you anymore. I’m fundamentally changed, and that’s … it’s a lot.”
I relaxed, that pain turning to a pleasurable, mushy ache. “I feel the same, you know.”
“I shouldn’t have reacted like that out in the game. I need to get better at letting stuff like that wash off my back.”
“You will.” I knew he would too. Callan had a will of steel.
“But I think … come here.” He released me but only to grab my hand and tug on it. He led me to his cubicle and glanced over his shoulder as he searched through his bags. “I think there’s something that might make me settle a bit.”
“Okay …”
His hand came out of his bag, fist curled around an object, and as he turned, I saw the blue velvet peeking between his fingers.
My heart raced.
And then thundered as Callan lowered to one knee in front of me. Gaping, I watched him present the ring box and open it.
Inside was the most beautiful engagement ring I’d ever seen.
It was rose gold with a central marquise champagne-colored diamond. Two small trillion diamonds hugged either side of it and beside those were two smaller marquise champagne diamonds.
“Holy fuck,” I blurted unromantically.
Callan’s shoulders shook with laughter. “That reaction makes me feel better for doing this here rather than at the bus stop where we had our first kiss, like I’d planned.”
I gaped. “You planned to propose at the bus stop where we had our first kiss?”
“I did. But I’m a selfish, impatient bastard and I can’t wait.” He raised the ring closer to me. “After my parents died, I felt like I had no one. So I threw myself into football and the team became my family, football became my everything. And I used to really worry about what would happen to me when I had to retire.” Callan licked his lips nervously. “But I haven’t worried about that in months. Since you. Because the truth is, Beth, you’re everything now. I will always love this game and everything it’s given me, but I don’t need it like I need you. I don’t need anything like I need you. And I don’t want to wait until some stupid, fucking appropriate amount of dating time has passed. I want you to be my wife. Immediately.”
He said the last so impatiently that laughter broke through the joyous tears clogging my throat.
His lips quirked. “Is that a yes?”
I lowered to my knees beside him, curling my hand around his over the ring. “You are moody, make the worst curry, have terrible taste in sofas, and your timing is questionable.”
Callan frowned.
“But for some reason, you love me, even though I overthink everything, catastrophize—a lot—have to work really hard to unglue myself from my phone, and have absolutely no clue what is happening out on that pitch other than that you’re hot and there’s a ball.”
He laughed, pulling me closer.
“You … you love me. The best man, the best friend, the best lover I’ve ever known loves me.” I leaned in, my lips hovering over his. “Captain … I’d be a moron if I said no. And I may be many things, but I’m not a moron.”