Bailey opened her eyes and blinked up at me. Her gaze stayed locked on mine, and she drew in a breath as I pushed inside her. I thrust once, twice, and she let out a throaty moan; the sound was feminine and vulnerable, and somehow, it almost undid me.

I stilled above her, watching her, countless thoughts swirling in my mind.

“What’s wrong?” she whispered.

Nothing was wrong. Everything was right. Everything.

“I just love you.” I dipped my head and bit her neck gently. “And I love fucking you.”

47. endgame

CHAPTER 47

ENDGAME

Chase

After six a.m. dryland, my plan was to crawl back into bed with Bailey and catch a few more hours of sleep. We had a nice little routine going, and it usually involved waking up for a second time in the best possible way. But there was no hope of going back to sleep today. Despite the grueling workout and innumerable burpees I’d been subjected to, I was buzzing.

When I got home, I briefly debated waking her to fill her in, but she’d been working overtime on classes, the paper, and her scholarship application, so in the end, I decided to let her sleep.

This led to a spur-of-the-moment decision to make breakfast. Only problem was, between being amped up and ravenously hungry from training, I got carried away and greatly overestimated the quantity of food required—even with my enormous appetite. I could count on Dallas to eat something when he got up, though. And Shiv was probably still here too, so one more mouth to feed would help make a dent in this massive spread.

I took the bacon out of the oven and set it on a potholder to protect the counter. As I turned around, Bailey came down the stairs, still in pale blue pajamas with her wavy golden hair rumpled from sleep. I loved seeing her first thing in the morning. She was a lot more pleasant than I was upon waking, not to mention far cuter.

Bailey yawned, groggily surveying the kitchen. “You made breakfast?” Her gaze landed on the waffle iron, her eyes widening. “Oh my god. I love waffles.”

“Then you’re in luck because I make the best waffles around. I’m a man of many talents. Not just on the ice—or in the bedroom.”

Her mouth tugged into a wry grin. “I’m starting to see that.” She padded over to stand beside me and peeked around me to see the waffles in progress. I wrapped my hands around her waist, ducking in for a quick mint toothpaste-flavored kiss.

“Plus,” I said, “I was too wired to go back to sleep.”

“Rough session?” She took a few steps and hopped up onto a clear span of countertop beside me. Sliding an elastic band off her wrist, she watched me, waiting for a response, and gathered up her hair and tied it up in a messy bun.