Busted Play: The Series (Players, Books 1-6)

by Stella Marie Alden

  Of course he is! He just couldn’t wait to leave me. It was always about the publicity but dammit. I really thought we’d become more than that.

  Shit. Ever since Iowa, he hasn’t made one move to fuck me. He’s probably got someone on the side and who could blame him? The whole incest thing probably turned him off. It’s really not the kind of thing that makes a man all hot and bothered over a woman. I really wish I hadn’t told him but then again, I needed to get better.

  Something inside me is changing. Even though I’m sad a lot, when I’m happy, I’m like really, really happy. Sometimes the smallest things make my heart race and I know I’m finally alive. My therapist says that when I locked away the incest, I locked away some vital part of me.

  Every once in a while, I see the me I’m going to be, and I like her a lot. But tonight, my new feelings hurt me so bad, I don’t know how I’ll make it through the next hour. When another text from Andy pops up on my phone, I click the video he sent.

  CJ is sitting in Andy’s kitchen, a giant tear rolling down his face. “I love her. I can’t let her go. She’s my whole fucking world.”

  Watching my alpha hotshot crying might be the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. I play it over again and again, not really believing what I’m seeing. CJ loves me? Dammit. Why didn’t he say so?

  I guess I’ve been so self-centered, I wouldn’t have heard him anyways. I’m such a dope.

  Andy texts me, “I’m sending a driver. You coming?”

  I don’t have the words to text so I post a sticker with a goofy dog dancing for joy. My heart, which was in this dark place is now streaking across the sky and sparkling with glitter. Holy shit. I’m either bipolar or crazy in love.

  One more text dings out of my phone. “Have a nice night. I’m finding someplace else to stay. Beware. U hurt my brother again and I’m coming for U.”

  Jack arrives just as I finish getting ready and even though he speeds, the trip to Brooklyn seems to take forever. After he unlocks the door and says good luck, I feel my way down the hall.

  I can tell that CJ’s awake by his breathing as I slip out of my clothes and enter the bedroom.

  Suddenly the light switches on, his mouth drops open and his eyes widen at my naked body. When he doesn’t say anything, for a second I wonder if he’s going to forgive me.

  The whole way over, I had this beautiful apology memorized but instead, I just blurt out, “I love you, hotshot.”

  A slow smile spreads across his face. “Oh man, baby. Come over here.”

  Running and jumping into the bed, I wrap my arms around him. Then he rolls on top, kissing me like mad, and tasting of warm whiskey.

  When his lips get to my ears, he whispers, “Never leave me again. Promise me.”

  I have to pull away from his busy mouth to answer. “I won’t. I swear. I had no idea. You stopped touching me. I thought—”

  “—I didn’t want to push. Not after all you’ve been through. But how? Why?” His rough palm cups my cheek, hazel eyes dark with desire.

  Then his brows raise. “Andy?”

  “He sent your driver to pick me up. Said you were here.” I grab his hand and pull it down between my legs, where I’m slick with desire. “Enough with the questions.”

  CJ kicks off his boxers and presses his hard want into my abs. “I missed you.”

  “I missed you more.” As his hands slide all over my body, I’ve never felt so wanton and so full of passion.

  Somehow releasing my past has made me feel alive. I have this depth that makes my chest tight, my eyes water, and my heart pound. And greedy as I am, I want even more.

  Wrapping my hand around his length, I slide down his body until small curls tickle my cheek. Then I kiss the tip of his silky cock, the taste and smell sending tingles straight to my core.

  When his hands grab onto my hair at the top of my head and his body goes tight, I lick the length of him, tongue exploring. He groans making my clit swell. Bolder, I slide my mouth down, taking him in as far as I can and suck. Then holding his base, I try different motions with my mouth and tongue until I find what he likes best and begin to slide up and down, holding tight. When he grows bigger still, I prepare to swallow what he’s about to offer. I’m so excited, I may just come from making him so aroused.

  Suddenly my scalp tingles as he tugs me up, his eyes wild with desire. His hands shoot to my waist, he lifts me high and his knees spread me wide, cool air hitting my clit.

  Watching my face, he presses me down onto him, hard and deep, our cores crashing. “F-F-Fuck.”

  Then fireworks explode behind my eyelids and I’m so damn high, I might die. Multiple sensitive waves of orgasm milk him dry while he cries out and pumps the last of his liquids into me.

  Holy shit.

  Weak all over, I drop onto his chest, listening to our hearts beating wildly in unison and eventually starting to slow.

  I kiss his chest, still connected, as a fingertip makes little circles on my back and buttocks. For the longest time, we just lay there like that, silent and happy. I know we’ve got lots of issues to resolve, but none of that matters.

  What really matters is that right now, right here, we’re in love and here for each other.

  One beautiful day at a time.

  COUNTER PLAY

  I suppose, after six months, most guys would've said something to their girlfriends about once being engaged but there are times I can be a real jerk

  Chapter 1

  “What the fuck are you doing here?”

  My jaw drops open at the sight of Mary Jane McAllister lying naked on my bed in my hotel room. When I find out who let her in, heads are going to roll.

  “Y’all don’t need to be so vulgar.” My ex stands to her full six-foot height with her lower lip sticking out and a tear pooling in the corner of one eye.

  I may have succumbed to her antics long ago but I’ve learned a few things. Now, it’s all about Mel. I suppose, after six months, most guys would’ve said something to their girlfriends about once being engaged but there are times I can be a real jerk. Selfish, some might say but it’s not so. I just hate drama about shit that no longer matters. It’s such a waste of energy.

  I keep my voice low because despite all she put me through, we grew up together and our families are friends. “Look at me, Mary Jane, we’ve been over for ages.”

  Mary Jane scowls, distorting her near-perfect features. “Don’t lie to me, Chance James Quinn. I keep up with the news. I know that trailer trash left you high and dry last fall.”

  “Like social media never says anything that isn’t true.” At the thought of sweet Melanie, for a moment, I let my guard down and smile.

  Mary Jane closes the distance between us, smacks a cherry-flavored kiss on my lips, and then her hands clasp around my neck. Expensive boobs press into my chest and her sharp pelvis digs into my lower half.

  Overly mascaraed eyelashes flutter while she waits for me to react.

  Was I always that easy?

  I grab both her wrists and push her off from me. I guess, not so long ago, I would’ve taken her up on her offer but now there’s only disgust.

  I pick up the flimsy dress she dropped on the floor and hand it over. “You need to go. Now!”

  “That’s so sweeeeet, CJ.”

  “I—”

  With an index finger to my lips, she smiles brightly and like always, never listens to a word I’ve said. “Ah gave you a little time to recover from that awful corn-fed woman but I’m here now. Don’t y’all worry none. I’ll take good care of you.”

  “Put on your fucking clothes and get the hell out of my life.” I manage to hold back the rest of the curses about to spew out of my mouth.

  It wouldn’t do any good, anyhow. She’s a bit slow on the up-take.

  MJ practically beams as she slithers into an almost see-through dress. Then, as she reaches her left hand for the door knob, I notice the engagement ring, the one she never gave back. Shit, she’s got no business wear
ing that. Obviously, I have to spell that out as well but not tonight, I just want her gone.

  If I’m honest, this whole situation could’ve been avoided. I should’ve let it out to the public weeks ago that me and my Iowa-honey didn’t break up. It’s just been so damn nice having some privacy without paparazzi constantly snapping pictures. Never in my wildest dreams did I figure Mary Jane would take my public bachelorhood as an open invitation to get back together.

  “See you later, Chance, honey-kins.” Her voice is unnaturally loud as she flings open my hotel door.

  A second later I get why.

  There’s about a half-dozen guys with cameras waiting in the hall as she plants a wet kiss on my mouth and grabs my ass. If it was anyone else but her, I’d bring her up on charges. However, for the sake of expediency, I just shake my head, and slam the fucking door shut.

  Damn it all to hell. If I don’t want Mel to see this shit, I need to get ahead of the curve. However, when I try to call, I get voice mail. She’s probably with a client.

  I wish like hell it was me under her talented fingers, getting one of her famous massages, or even getting bossed around the rehab center. Unfortunately, I can’t claim her services anymore. She got my knee working like new. Still, I might put her down as a personal expense so I can keep my eye on her.

  I trust her, it’s those randy athletes, I don’t. It’s because of me that she got some great recommendations, including my buddy, Kit, a hockey player. I just don’t want him thinking my baby’s booty comes with the rehab.

  At the thought of her passionate kisses on someone else’s mouth, I want to hit something or someone. Even after six months of daily sex, I can’t get enough of her. And now that the season has started, I’m going to have to figure out how to get it between games.

  There’s this incredible quiver thing that happens when she comes apart around me. Man, it’s fucking mind blowing. After that, she melts like chocolate and makes me crazy as she plays with my chest hairs, catching her breath.

  After sending out a couple calls and some text messages, I get dressed because it’s time to go out with my team and have a bite to eat. Then I’ll explain to Mel what happened when I get home. I’ll make her understand that nothing compares to how I feel about her.

  I get so hard at the thought of make-up-sex that my cock hurts. I’ll have her screaming out my name, begging for release.

  Chapter 2

  Bushwick Physical Therapy and Sports Rehab Center

  “You’re all set.” I pat Kit’s strong back as a way of saying that his time is over, switch on my cell phone, and glance down at all the messages from CJ.

  Once back at the front desk, I try to call but there’s no answer. Darn. He’s probably in the air. I hate that the season has started. I never realized there were so many away games.

  We both agreed that I’ll never be that trophy wife with nothing else to do but hang out with the WAGS. That’s what the guys call wives and girlfriends. Sounds pretty derogatory to me, like hags, nags, and old bags.

  Suddenly, I picture him getting hurt, open the Giant’s app, and scroll through his profile. What’s this? The first shot I find is of a model sitting in the stands. The caption reads, Is CJ over his summer’s heartbreak? Check out that ring.

  My chest tightens so hard I can barely breathe as I scan the article, staring incredulously. It says CJ’s back together with his fiancé. Then, there’s this second photo of the same gorgeous woman kissing my man on the mouth in a see-through dress.

  Pissed, I put down my phone, open my work computer, and check her out on Facebook. Oh my God! He never once said he was engaged. Biting down on my lower lip, I flip through about a hundred photos of them together.

  He’s been cheating on me? All this time?

  He looks so damn happy in every shot that my whole world crumbles into little pieces. How the hell could he do this to me? I should log off but like watching a train wreck, I just can’t stop myself from clicking.

  “Hey, you okay?” Kit walks up behind me, looks over my shoulder, and hisses. Then he puts an arm around my shoulder. “That bâtard. You’re too good for him, Melanie. I mean that.”

  I’m so freaked that I can’t talk and so just nod numbly as I get my coat. Then I head for the door, desperately needing fresh air and a good, stiff drink.

  “You want me to walk you home?” He’s such a nice guy to offer but my heart belongs to the asshole that just broke my stupid heart.

  Wishing he’d go, I stare down at the sidewalk, holding back tears.

  “Give me your cell phone.” He thumbs in his number and hands it back. “Call me, no matter the hour, oui?”

  “K.” In addition to being a naïve fool, now I’ve let my most important client see how unprofessional I am.

  Excellent.

  So then I trudge up the hill to my Brooklyn apartment on the border of Queens. It’s the one CJ helped me find, the one where we made love a zillion times, and the one when I’m home alone, he’s been double-dipping.

  Shit, shit, shit. What is it about me and cheaters? I am such an idiot! My last boyfriend, Des, locked me out and stole everything I owned. Then he invited his other girlfriend to come live with him.

  Déjà vu. Right?

  I suppose it’s because of being abused as a kid. No matter what I do or say, there’s a stink that guys can smell a mile away.

  Refusing to sob, I unlock my door and then sit and stare at the black TV screen. I should eat but can’t. Finally, I shut off my phone and hit the hay. I’m never going to speak to that lying, cheating, jerk.

  I knew what we had was too good to be true.

  Around midnight, another part of my brain, the rational side, makes me take another look at the photo of her kissing him in the hotel room. His brows are creased and fists are clenched at his side. I’d say he’s downright angry.

  Woo hoo!

  I log back onto Facebook. Those photos? He’s missing the little scar just below his right eye, the one he got at the end of last spring.

  That little, conniving bitch. She’s trying to steal my man via social media.

  Unable to go back to sleep, I wait up for CJ, finishing off my maple walnut ice cream. Halfway through his pint of coffee-flavor, heavy footsteps pound outside, and I fling open the door.

  Not letting him put his bag down, I reach up on my tip toes, grab the back of his head, and kiss him with so much pent up passion that he falls back against the wall.

  When I finish devouring him, he gives me this cocky smile. “It isn’t what you think.”

  “How do you know what I’m thinking?” I kiss the stubble on his chin and pull him into my apartment where his heavy bag clunks onto my kitchen floor.

  Pointing to the half-eaten container of Haagen-Dazs on the end table, he chuckles. Then hazel eyes search mine as I’m pulled into his firm chest, incredible biceps wrapped around me. Warm lips meet mine as our need grows. It’s crystal clear that I’m the one he wants to be with which is pretty friggin’ awesome.

  My stupid heart’s about to explode with love. “Maybe I just couldn’t sleep.”

  He places a finger under my chin, holding my face captive. “Maybe you saw that picture of a woman kissing me?”

  My eyes lower, feeling a little guilty. “Well, yeah, maybe. But still, you should’ve told me you were engaged.”

  “Why? She’s the past. You’re my future.”

  He kisses away the pout I give him. “Listen, I sent her packing. No worries. Now as long as you’re up…” He lifts me, cupping my ass under one arm while I hold onto the back of his neck.

  On the way down the hall, he tears off my pajama top and two small buttons plop on the floor.

  Shit. More sewing.

  “Chance…C’mon now. We’ve talked about this.”

  He snickers as he tosses me on the bed and follows. “I’ll buy you another.”

  “That’s wasteful.” Laughing and on my knees, I pull his t-shirt over his head.

 
He shrugs off his sweats, then mine, and tickles my ribs. “Say uncle.”

  Giggling hysterically, I try to roll away but he’s locked me between his thighs. “Hee-hee, uncle, hee-hee, oh stop, Damn it, Chance. Uncle!”

  When he pulls away his fingertips, I launch a counter attack at the small area just below his arm pits. “Gotcha.”

  He pins me down, holding my wrists over my head. “You’ll pay for that.”

  “I hope so.” Tears of joy pool in the corners of my eyes as I inhale his aftershave mixed with his tangy male scent. This is the side of CJ that turns me on, macho, playful, yet totally in control.

  Suddenly, his pupils darken, he looms over me, and his kisses become more urgent. Locked onto his gaze, I nibble his lower lip, a shiver running up and down my spine. When a low groan comes deep within his chest, I arch into him, wanting so much more, so much faster.

  In sync, he releases my hands and pulls me on top of his chest, his cock rigid. “I missed you.”

  “Missed you worse.”

  Grinning, he palms my drenched clit and plays with my nub, making little circles with his fingertips. He knows that drives me crazy.

  Not to be outdone, I grab his thick length and hold tight.

  “Fuck.” He lifts me, placing my opening over his cock, then pulls me down over him until I’ve completely sheathed him.

  Damn, he’s big.

  After I adjust, I slide up and down him with my knees wide, him helping with hands on my waist. Then his incredible abs crunch, he lifts his head, and sucks one breast until tingles shoot to my core.

  After a moment of pure bliss, he pulls me forward by falling back onto the pillow. My sex throbs and swells with each lick and gentle bite. Sweating and panting, I place both palms on his chest and ride him, shivering.

  When he takes over, he drives up so damn deep, I swear, we’re like one. Then I meet him thrust for thrust, urging him on.

  “Holy Shit, CJ!” With all my strength, I crush down onto him while he pushes up, thick and wide.