Page 146 of Uncoachable

I watch her unravel.

Her head is tossed back, her throat bared and pulsing with every ragged breath she draws. Her eyes are blown out, glazed with a pleasure so sharp it looks like pain, and her mouth is open in a silent, beautiful scream.

“Look at me,” I command. “I need your eyes on mine.”

She forces her eyes open, her gaze locking onto mine with a desperate, wild intensity. I pick up the pace, the rhythm turning uncoordinated.

“Callahan,” she gasps, her voice breaking. “Cal, please—fuck—”

I don’t let her go yet. I slow the pace just enough to make it agonizing, grinding my hips against hers in a slow, circular motion that makes her sob.

“I’ve got you,” I whisper, the words a jagged vow against her lips. “I’m right here. Break for me, Ivy. I’ll catch you.”

“I’m yours,” she sobs, her body pulsing around mine in a desperate, rhythmic claim. “I’m staying right here. With you. Always.”

The tension in the room builds to a pressure so immense it feels like the walls are closing in.

Her body seizes around mine, wave after wave of pure, hot release rippling through her. I follow her immediately, my heart hammering against hers as if they’re trying to sync up for good.

My hands are still shaking as I reach up, my fingers trembling as I stroke her hair back from her face. I look down at her, seeing the red marks on her hips where my fingers gripped her too hard, the flush on her chest, the way her lips are swollen and bruised from my mouth. The sight of it—of the evidence that I was the one who finally got through her defenses—sends a fresh bolt of protective heat through me.

“You okay, honey?” I whisper, my voice still rough and low.

She doesn’t answer with words at first. She just shifts, her arms tightening around my neck, pulling me closer until there isn’t a single millimeter of space between us. She breathes in deep, her nose brushing against my collarbone.

“Don’t you dare move, Callahan,” she murmurs, her voice sleepier than I’ve ever heard it, yet still carrying that underlying edge of command I love so much.

We lie there for a long time, tangled together in the wreckage of the sheets. The adrenaline is still humming in my veins, but the fear is gone.

I pull the blanket over us, tucking her against my side. Her head rests on my chest, right over the heart she now owns.

“One-zero, Cal,” she murmurs sleepily.

I kiss the top of her head, closing my eyes, finally at peace. “I think we both won this one, Ivy.”

This is the win.

It’s not the trophy or the parade or the legacy.

It’s her.

“I meant it,” I say softly, my voice echoing in the quiet room. “What I said earlier. About loving you.”

She looks up at me, her eyes warm and clear. “I know you did.”

“I love you,” I repeat, because the words feel right every time they leave my mouth. They feel like the truth.

Her weight on my chest feels like gravity finally figured out where I belong.

I’m not drifting anymore. I’m not performing for a crowd or pretending to be the man everyone expects the captain to be.

She smiles and settles back against my heart, closing her eyes as she finds her home.

And as I hold her, I realize that I’ve finally found mine, too.

39

Ivy