Page 20 of Second Chance to Score

I shook my head.

“As much as I want you,” I adjusted my aching cock in my pants to emphasize my point, “And I do want you, but we need to take things slow.”

“You licked my pussy on your kitchen table,” she reminded me with an adorable pout.

“Third base is okay,” I said solemnly. “But we’ll need to practice more before we head for that home run.”

I saw a flash of disappointment before she schooled her expression. “Is it time for brownies then?”

As Violet groaned in pleasure with the first taste of my family’s secret brownie recipe, I hoped I was making the right decision to wait. Because if I lost Violet again, there was no way I could survive it.

***

“Mason! How’s your PT going?”

I looked up as Coach Grange barked at me from across the aisle of the plane. Fully aware that he was receiving regular reports from Violet’s office as well as the team’s medical crew, I figured this question was about more than how my hip was feeling.

“It’s going good, Coach. It felt better in practice yesterday than it has all season.”

It was true too. Between the work Violet was doing on it, and the complementary treatment plan that she and the team’s doctor had agreed on, my hip was significantly better than it had been a few weeks ago.

“How’s Violet treating you?” I saw a flash of something in his eyes, making me wonder if his strained relationship with his daughter bothered him more than he let on.

“Good. She’s one of the best in the field. You’ve got a talented daughter there, Coach.”

He cleared his throat, looked around furtively to see if anyone else was listening, then met my eyes with an expression that was almost sheepish.

“Is she doing okay then?”

I nodded. “Yeah, she’s healthy, successful, well-respected, and has a nice circle of friends. I’d say Violet is doing more than okay.”

An awkward silence stretched between us, and I resisted the urge to start talking about football so we could change the subject.

“I always figured you two would get married,” he finally said, a slight question in his tone.

“So did I,” I answered honestly.

He didn’t ask, but I could see the curiosity in his eyes.

“We had a huge misunderstanding back in college and we were both too stubborn to try to fix it,” I explained. “But we recently cleared it up and now we’re becoming friends again.”

An image of me eating Violet out on my kitchen table flashed across my mind.

“I wouldn’t mind if you were more than friends,” he said. “She seemed happy with you. I always wanted my daughter to be happy, more than anything.”

“Maybe you ought to tell her that,” I suggested.

He nodded, suddenly looking older. “Me and Violet have never got on very well.”

“It’s not too late to change that,” I reminded him.

He nodded, then waved at one of the assistant coaches who called to get his attention.

“Anyway, let me know how things are going. With your hip too.”

As he strode off, I reflected on the fact that I seemed to have Violet’s father’s blessing to be with her. I hoped that I would have hers soon too.

Violet