Chapter 10
MAY - LOUISVILLE, KENTUCKY
Now playing: Talking Body - Tove Lo
I had three rules.
“I’m just saying,” Evan’s voice drifted from the backseat. “If you put your feet on the dashboard one more time, Deadlock, I’m going to snap your ankles.”
I kept my eyes on the road. Since Evan got drafted to Showdown last week, he was in our car almost every night. We were heading into Louisville for a rare off day tomorrow, no shows, no media, which meant the mood in the car was loose. Too loose.
“Don’t call me Deadlock,” Cal muttered, slouching lower. He deliberately wiggled his combat boots, leaving a scuff mark. “You’re just mad because the only action you’re getting is from the catering lady.”
“Better than your action,” Evan shot back. “I bet your idea of foreplay is a headlock.”
Cal’s eyes flicked to mine in the rearview mirror.
I bit the inside of my cheek, meeting his gaze. We exchanged a split-second look, a shared, secret urge to laugh. If only Evan knew. The things Cal did for foreplay didn’t involve headlocks; they involved patience, worship, and a mouth that could bring me to my knees.
I cleared my throat, forcing my eyes back to the road. “Can we not talk about Cal’s sex life? I’m trying to eat beef jerky.”
Evan leaned forward, squinting in the dim light. “Speaking of… is that Deadlock’s hoodie?”
I froze. I was wearing the oversized black hoodie with NO ONE LIKE US printed in jagged letters across the back. It was Cal’s, sure. But more importantly, it was the one I had worn the day on the balcony, the day I dropped to my knees and tasted him for the first time.
“Yeah,” I said, keeping my voice even. “So?”
“You wearing his merch now?” Evan teased. “You guys are codependent. It’s weird. You gonna start painting your nails black too?”
“It’s free clothes, Evan. I wear your merch shirts to the gym all the time. What’s the issue?”
I didn’t tell him the real reason I was wearing it.
I wore it because I knew exactly what it did to Cal.
Ever since that night on the balcony, Cal had been obsessed with this specific hoodie.
For weeks, he’d been whispering in my ear during matches, or while we were packing our bags, telling me exactly how badly he wanted to bend me over and fuck me while I was wearing nothing but this.
“The issue is—” Evan stopped. He leaned closer, his massive head hovering between the front seats. “Whoa. Hold on. What happened to your neck?”
My hand flew up to my collar instantly, yanking the hood up higher. “What?”
“Your neck,” Evan said, his voice dropping an octave. “It’s purple. That is a mouth print, Reed. A big one. Since when do you have game?”
“I have game,” I defended weakly.
“Who is she?” Evan pressed, ignoring Cal, who had gone very still in the passenger seat. “Is it a rat? A local? Or someone serious?”
I hesitated. I could deny it. But Evan was staring right at me.
“Just… someone I’m seeing,” I said.
“Well?” Evan prodded, grinning. “Give me details. Was it good? She leave that mark because she was mad or because she liked it?”
I felt Cal’s gaze on the side of my face. It was heavy. Intense. I expected him to snap. Instead, Cal shifted in his seat, turning his body toward me with a dark, reckless smirk.
“Yeah, Silas,” Cal purred, his voice dropping to a dangerous register. “Tell us. Was it good?”
My breath hitched. He was daring me. He was testing how far I would take the lie.
“It was… intense,” I began, gripping the steering wheel. I let my mind drift back to the night before. To the shower. To Cal carrying me. “We started in the bathroom. But she was… she was getting handsy. Needy. I had to carry her out to the bed.”
Cal’s eyes darkened, his pupils blowing wide as he recognized the memory.
“Carried her?” Cal pressed, his voice low. “She like that?”
“She loved it,” I lied, flipping the pronouns but keeping the heat. “She practically begged me to fuck her. Told me not to stop.”
“Is that right?” Cal murmured, licking his lips.
“Yeah,” I whispered, glancing at Cal. “I gave her exactly what she wanted. I went harder. She liked it rough. Liked the marks.”
The air in the car shifted instantly. It became thick, charged with a voltage that made the hair on my arms stand up. Cal looked like he was about to jump across the console and devour me.
“Sounds… fun,” Cal said, his voice thick.
“Okay, enough,” Evan groaned, leaning back. “God, Kincaid, look at you. You’re practically drooling. You’re jealous.”
“I’m not jealous,” Cal said, though his voice was tight.
“You are!” Evan crowed. “You’re mad because Silas pulled a bad bitch and you’re stuck striking out. Bet you can’t even get it up without a script, Deadlock.”
Cal whipped around in his seat so fast the seatbelt locked. He glared at Evan, his eyes flashing with a mix of genuine offense and arrogance.
“I can get it up fine,” Cal snapped, his voice dangerously low. “Do you need to fucking see? Cause I have pictures.”
My face burst into flames.
I stared straight at the road, my knuckles turning white.
I knew he had pictures. Cal loved sending them to me at the worst possible times, when I was in catering, when I was in the locker room surrounded by veterans, or when we were sitting in a crowded airport.
He loved watching me check my phone, turn bright red, and try to adjust my pants without anyone noticing.
Evan, thankfully, just snorted in disgust. “Gross, dude. No. Put your phone away.”
“Then watch your mouth,” Cal snarled, turning back around. “My sex life is biblical. Ask anyone.”
He slumped back in his seat, fuming. But under the cover of the dashboard lights, his hand snaked across the center console. He found my thigh. He squeezed hard, possessive, angry, and turned on.
“Biblical,” I whispered under my breath.
Cal looked at me, the heat in his eyes enough to melt the windshield. “Drive faster.”
We walked into the lobby, dragging our gear bags. It was late, and the lobby was quiet.
“Alright,” Evan yawned, heading for the elevators. “I’m crashing. Don’t wake me up before noon tomorrow. I’m using the off day to sleep in a coma.”
“Night, Evan,” I said.
“Night, Si. Night, Deadlock.”
“Die in your sleep, Evan,” Cal replied cheerfully.
We watched Evan get into the elevator. As soon as the doors slid shut, the cheerful mask dropped off Cal’s face.
He didn’t say a word. He grabbed the front of his hoodie, the one I was wearing, and yanked me toward the second elevator bank.
We rode up in silence. Cal stood in the corner, staring at me, his chest heaving. He looked like he was debating whether to kiss me or fight me.
The elevator dinged at the eighth floor.
Cal marched down the hall, swiped the key card, and shoved the door open. He waited for me to step inside, then slammed the door and threw the deadbolt.
“Begged you?” Cal growled, dropping his bag and stalking toward me. “You told him I begged you?”
“I said ‘she’,” I breathed, backing up until my legs hit the edge of the mattress.
“I knew who you meant,” Cal said, crowding into my space, his eyes blazing. “And I saw the way you looked when you said it. You liked that story, didn’t you? Pretending you were the one in control?”
“Maybe,” I whispered, my heart hammering against my ribs.
Cal smirked, a dangerous, predatory thing. He reached out, shoving me backward onto the bed.
“Well, lucky for you, we have an off day tomorrow,” Cal said, crawling over me. He grabbed the hem of the hoodie. “So you have all night to show me exactly how rough you think you are. But first… keep this on. I’ve been waiting all week to fuck you in this.”
Sunlight was assaulting my eyelids.
I groaned, trying to roll over, but I was pinned. A heavy arm was draped over my waist, and a very solid, very warm chest was pressed against my back.
I blinked my eyes open, staring at the digital clock on the nightstand. 10:45.
“Stop moving,” Cal grumbled against the back of my neck, his voice thick with sleep. “Too early.”
“It’s almost eleven,” I whispered, though I settled back into him.
I shifted my legs, and a sharp, delicious ache shot through my hips and inner thighs. It was that specific good sore, the kind that made me want to curl my toes. My back felt tight, my knees were tender, and I could feel the ghost of his grip still branded on my waist.
Cal felt me wince. His hand slid down my stomach, resting heavy and possessive over my hip bone.
“You okay?” he murmured, pressing a kiss to my shoulder. “You hurting?”
“Yeah,” I admitted, relaxing into his touch. “But… the good kind.”
“Good,” Cal smirked against my skin. “We went hard last night. I wasn’t sure you’d be able to walk today.”
“I didn’t exactly fight you on it,” I whispered, memories flashing in my mind.
The way he had bent me over the small room desk while I was still wearing that hoodie.
The way he had forced me to look in the mirror while he pounded into me, making me repeat the story I’d told Evan.
The way he had flipped me onto my back and ravaged me until I was sobbing his name into the hotel pillow.
“You were begging for it,” Cal reminded me, his voice dropping an octave. “You beg so pretty, baby.”
I turned in his arms, shifting so I could face him.
He looked wrecked in the best way. His dark hair was a mess, sticking up in tufts. There was a pillow crease on his cheek. But his eyes were open, watching me with that soft, unguarded look he only ever wore in private.
“Hi,” he whispered.
“Hi,” I smiled back, reaching up to brush a strand of hair off his forehead.
I traced the line of his jaw, then let my thumb rest near his eye. In the harsh arena lights, Cal’s eyes always looked pitch black, shark eyes. But here, in the morning sun, they were a deep, rich green, flecked with gold.
“Your eyes are lighter in the morning,” I murmured. “They aren’t scary at all.”
Cal caught my hand, kissing my palm. “Don’t tell anyone. You’ll ruin the gimmick.”