Page 72 of Curveball

She shivered.

“You know how I know?” Another kiss. Her breath caught.

“Because every moment without you felt wrong.” I dragged my tongue up her thigh, slow and teasing. “And now?” I pressed a kiss right where she needed me most. “Now everything feels exactly right.”

I kissed her center once more—soft—and then lazily dragged my tongue through her arousal. Farrah’s hands dove into my hair and tugged. I sucked her clit into my mouth, and she gasped, hips lifting, chasing me. I slid two fingers inside her, curling just right, and her moans turned wrecked. Louder and needier.

Making her come felt instinctive, like muscle memory. Like my hands remembered her even when my head tried to forget.

I kept my mouth on her until she broke apart, my name falling from her lips like a prayer, and I’d never get tired of hearing it. I crawled back up her body and brushed hair away from her face. Kissed the freckles scattered across her nose. Our eyes met, and all I saw was love.

She was love.

I kissed her again, slow and thorough, pouring everything I had into it. I wanted her to feel it in her bones. She reached down and stroked my cock, and I groaned against her mouth, forehead dropping to hers. I positioned myself at her core and sank in slowly. Her mouth parted with every inch, and when I finally bottomed out, her eyes slipped closed on a satisfied, broken little moan.

We took our time. Slow, deliberate, like we were trying to make the night last forever.

And fuck—I wished it could.

I felt her start to tip, the tension building in her body.

“Walker… yes—right there,” she breathed. “Don’t stop.”

I couldn’t if I tried.

I reached between us and pressed my thumb to her clit, and she shattered, coming hard around me. Just watching her fall apart on my cock was enough to take me with her. I spilled into her with her name on my lips, the world going white at the edges. When it was over, we were sweaty, breathless, and completely wrecked. I rolled off her and pulled her into me, kissing the top of her head.

“I love you,” I whispered into her hair.

Farrah pressed a kiss to my chest. “I love you too, Ace.”

I slept better than I had in years.

The weight had lifted, the clouds had parted, I could see through the trees—and whatever the hell else people say.

I slipped out of bed early and padded into the hallway to call my agent. Weston had been right—when you know, you know.

No hesitation. No doubt.

Just peace.

I hit Scott’s number and waited through the rings.

“You’re lucky I’m up at five to work out,” Scott said, voice rough. “Why the fuck are you calling me this early, James?”

I chuckled. “Because I’ve made my decision, and I wanted you to have it before I could talk myself out of it.”

A beat of silence.

“Jesus,” he muttered. “It’s too early for this kind of conversation.”

“Relax. You’re going to like this one.” I exhaled. “I’m not retiring. I’ll be back next year.”

Another pause.

“And,” I added, because this part mattered, even if I hadn’t said it out loud yet, “it’ll be my last.”

I hadn’t told Farrah that part.