Sienna’s POV
George showing up again feels like finding a spider in your bed—sudden, revolting, and impossible to ignore.
He doesn't need to raise his voice or get physical. Just existing in the same airspace makes my skin crawl and my fight-or-flight response kick into overdrive.
His eyes track me during practice like a predator cataloging weaknesses, waiting for the exact moment I'll crack.
Spoiler alert: I'm not cracking for you anymore, asshole.
But Ford watches me too, and the difference is like comparing a scalpel to a security blanket. Not controlling or possessive—just steady. Like he's there to catch me if I fall instead of waiting to push me over the edge.
During a water break, George slides up next to me with that fake paternal smile that used to make me try harder and now just makes me nauseous.
"Don't let anyone dilute your talent," he whispers, all smooth poison wrapped in concern.
I nod because muscle memory runs deep, even though every instinct I have is screaming to tell him exactly where he can shove his advice.
Old habits die hard. Unfortunately.
"Why do you keep saying that?" I finally snap one afternoon, trying to sound stronger than I feel.
George's smile turns predatory, like I've just played right into his hands. "Because I know what it takes to win. You think Ford does? He's soft, Sienna. You don't survive this sport by being soft."
The words stick in my chest like barbed wire. "Remember who got you here."
Right. Because I had nothing to do with my own success.
That night, sleep is a joke.
George's voice loops in my head like a broken record, mixing with Ford's completely different approach until I can't tell which voice is right anymore.
Maya's dead to the world beside me, breathing soft and steady, completely unaware of the psychological warfare happening three feet away.
I slip out of bed, grab my hoodie, and head to Ford's apartment because apparently making terrible decisions is my new hobby.
The spare key he gave me feels like it's burning a hole in my palm. This is either the best idea I've ever had or the worst. Probably both.
I knock once before letting myself in. Ford's already awake, standing by the window like he's been expecting me. Which, knowing him, he probably has.
"You made it," he says, voice low and warm, and something tight in my chest finally loosens.
"Couldn't stay there," I whisper, closing the door behind me. "George... he's everywhere. Makes me feel like I'm still his property."
Ford pulls me into his arms, and I bury my face in his neck, breathing him in like he's oxygen and I've been suffocating.
"You're not," he murmurs, hands sliding down my back. "Not anymore."
God, I want to believe that.
"Ford." I pull back to look at him. "I know we haven't talked about what happened between us. I know you said no one could know, that it was—"
"Sienna, don't." His jaw tenses. "We can't do this again. It was a mistake."
There's that fucking word again.
"A mistake?" I step back, suddenly furious. "You're really going to stand there and call it a mistake when George is literally trying to crawl back into my head?"
"That's exactly why we can't—"
"No, fuck that." The words come out sharper than intended. "You want to know what a mistake looks like? Years of letting George convince me I wasn't worth protecting. That pain was just the price of excellence. That's a mistake!"
Ford goes very still. "Sienna—"
"You make me feel like I'm worth something beyond what I can do on a beam!" I'm on a roll now, months of suppressed feelings pouring out. "Not my scores, not my potential, not what I can win for someone else. Me. Just me."
Christ, I sound pathetic.
Ford's breathing has changed, gotten heavier. "You don't understand what you're asking."
"I'm asking you to stop being a coward."
His eyes flash. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me. You're being a coward. Hiding behind professional ethics because you're scared of what this could cost us." I step closer. "Well, guess what? I'm scared too. But I'm more scared of going back to who I was before you."
Ford's walls are cracking—I can see it in his eyes. "This could destroy both our careers," he says quietly.
"So could letting George get back in my head. So could pretending this doesn't exist." I reach up and cup his face. "I'd rather risk everything with you than play it safe without you."
"You don't know what you're saying."
"I know exactly what I'm saying. I want you, Ford. Not because you're my coach, not because you saved me from George, but because you make me feel like maybe I'm worth more than my worst moments."
The words hang between us like a bridge I can't uncross. Ford stares at me for a long moment, and I can practically see the war playing out in his head.
"This is insane," he says finally.
"Yeah. It is."
"If anyone finds out—"
"Then we'll deal with it, don’t we?”
That’s when his last defense crumbles. Ford grabs me like he’s drowning and I’m the air he needs to live.
His mouth crashes into mine, all heat and hunger and teeth, and I kiss him back just as fiercely, fisting his shirt, his hair, anything I can touch.
We stumble toward the bed, all desperate hands and whispered promises that we’ll figure this out later—somehow—but not tonight.
“I need you,” I whisper against his lips, voice breaking. “I don’t want to be scared tonight. I just want to feel safe.”
And with Ford, wrapped in his arms, that storm inside me finally goes quiet.
He pulls back just enough to look at me—and I see the moment the last thread of his restraint snaps.
He grabs the hem of my hoodie and yanks it over my head. I’m left in nothing but an oversized sleep shirt and skin—bare beneath, no panties, no bra.
The second his eyes land on what I’m hiding beneath it, they go dark.
“You’re not wearing panties,” he muttered, his voice thick, wrecked.
I shake my head slowly, heat burning up my neck. “Didn’t want anything between us.”
“Fuck,” he growls, and the word shoots straight to my core.
But before he can touch me, I stop him with a hand pressed to his chest. His brows pull together in confusion, breath ragged. “Let me,” I whisper.
He freezes. And I drop straight to my knees.
The look on his face is everything. Shock. Hunger. Awe. He doesn’t stop me. Doesn’t even blink when I reach for the waistband of his sweatpants and tug them down.
His cock springs free—thick, hard, flushed deep red at the tip. It’s big, and my thighs press together in anticipation.
“Jesus, Sienna,” he breathes.
I wrap one hand around the base, giving it a slow, teasing stroke. His hips twitch. His jaw locks when Ford hisses and his hand flies to my hair.
I smile up at him, then suck him into my mouth slowly, inch by inch. He groans, head falling back, fingers tightening in my hair as I take more. I work him deeper, tongue swirling, lips sealing around him, loving the way he curses under his breath, how his thighs tense with each flick of my tongue.
“Fuck, Sienna. Your mouth—” he gasps, hips bucking slightly.
When I finally pull off, lips swollen, chin slick, he yanks me up and crushes his mouth to mine, tasting himself on my tongue. He lifts me like I weigh nothing and throws me down on the bed.
“I need to be inside you,” he growls.
“Then do it,” I breathe, legs already spreading.
He doesn’t wait. He slides in deep and slow, his thick cock stretching me inch by inch until I cry out, back arching off the bed. He groans, eyes locked on mine.
“You take me so fucking good.”
He starts to move—hard, deep thrusts that have me clawing at the sheets. I beg for more, for faster, and he gives it. And then, without warning, he flips me onto my stomach, grabs my hips, and fucks me from behind, relentless.
I scream his name, face buried in the mattress as he pounds into me, his hand tangled in my hair, the other gripping my ass hard enough to bruise. My body starts to shake, orgasm building again, and I sob his name.
“Don’t stop, please, Ford— I’m close—”
He lifts me. He lifts me off the bed, one arm under my knees, the other around my back, and keeps fucking me like that—deeper, rougher, my body completely at his mercy.
And I can’t hold back anymore.
“I’m gonna come,” I whimpered, breath ragged.
“Do it,” he growled. “Come on my cock. Let me feel you lose it.”
I shattered, full-body shaking, my pussy squeezing him tight as he fucked me through it. Ford slams into me one last time, groaning loud as he spills deep inside me, hips jerking, his cock twitching with every pulse.
We collapsed together, sweat-slick and tangled, breath mixing in the dark. For a moment, the world was quiet.
No George. No fear. Just the two of us.
I rested my head against his chest, heart still racing. And for the first time in days, I felt safe.