by S. J. Bishop
"What are you waiting for?" Patti hollered. She'd gotten the same look in her eyes as the redhead.
I pictured Florida. I'd only been there once, and it had been the hottest, muggiest vacation of my life. There were swamps and alligators and all kinds of bullshit I didn't want to deal with. My family was all in California, and though I didn't see them often, I liked knowing they were around.
"The Tomcats get a chance to try to settle things with me first. I owe it to them; they've been good to me."
Bryant Osbourne walked past, snickering at me from behind his perfectly manicured hands. What kind of asshole football player got a manicure, anyway? "They'll never match it," he said. "Not when you're punching refs out every other game."
"It's not every other game," I snarled. "It was once, and that was two months ago."
"See that," Bryant said. "There you going again, getting mad. That's your problem, Vega. You've got a temper you can't control."
"And your problem is that you were born a fancy ass rich boy who's never had to work a day in his life."
"You don't call football work?" he spat out.
"Not when you're on the field. More like a friendly game of tag."
"Whatever, man," Bryant said, eyeing the redhead who was still clinging to my arm.
"Baby, baby," the redhead whispered, nuzzling up against me. I could smell her perfume. Her hand dropped below my waist and stroked my ass. I felt myself relaxing. Patti put her hand on the back of my neck and began to massage it.
"Ssh," Patti said. "There are better things to spend your energy on."
Intent on letting things go, I watched Bryant walk off. He wasn't worth it. He went straight to the bar where Emma stood. I watched them, smiling, waiting for her to send Bryant packing just like she'd done with me. Only, Emma started stroking his hand instead.
What the fuck?
She’d said she didn't do football players. I crept closer to them, dying to know what the hell Bryant was saying to garner that look in her eyes. She was looking at him like he was her fucking dessert. Her fingers traced over his hand, and I watched as she moved her tits an inch closer to his chest. I could see his mouth moving. His lips looked dry to me, and his eyes were hazy and uninviting. What an asshole. Yet Emma looked to be hanging on his every word. There must be something wrong with her. Maybe she was off her meds or something. Only a complete nutcase would want to cozy up next to Bryant.
"Why don't we get out of here?" Patti whispered. She was following me around like a lovesick poodle. Her hair was suddenly much frizzier than I'd noticed, especially compared to Emma's perfect, golden locks.
"I need another drink," I told her. She quickly handed me a beer, and I chugged it down, keeping one eye on Emma and Bryant. When they turned and left together, I nearly shit myself. Whatever. There were plenty of other girls at this party. Hotter girls. Better girls. And none of them were saying no.
3
Emma
Bryant's car—a yellow Ferrari that screamed of the type of man trying to compensate for something—was parked in front of Tomcats Stadium. I hopped in with him, eager to put as much distance between me and my father as possible. He drove us to a secluded park that the high school kids used for make out sessions. I hadn't felt like a teenager in years, and I giggled as Bryant tickled my neck with his tongue. It was like we were two kids who'd never done it before, anxious to let loose and explore each other's bodies.
The inside of Bryant's Ferrari was surprisingly roomy. He tilted both seats back so far that they almost lay flat. I couldn't help but look through the windows, all too aware of the potential of getting caught. My heart beat in anticipation. It had been much too long since a man had touched me. Bryant, never a man who liked to be kept waiting, pulled my clothes off.
"You’re going to get fucked properly tonight," he whispered, and started caressing my thighs. His fingers were soft, too soft for someone who played football, and I wondered how he managed to keep them that way. He ran them up and down my legs, teasing me.
"I like to be surprised," I whispered back. "Show me something I've never seen before."
Bryant smiled, flipping me over onto my stomach as he straddled my legs. His hand rubbed my ass, sensual at first, then rougher. He slapped my ass, reddening my skin. I squirmed with delight. This was something new. He brought his hand down again, harder this time.
"You like that, don't you?" Bryant asked.
I groaned in response as his hand hit my other cheek. "Yes," I said. I felt the wetness spreading between my thighs and started to wriggle.
"Well, too bad," he whispered. "You're not getting off that easy."
My thighs tightened as Bryant massaged my tingling backside. I could smell our heat as our desire grew. Bryant's thick mass pressed through his pants as he stroked my ass. His fingers lingered over my tight opening. I squirmed, nervous but excited.
"What are you going to do?" I asked.
"Whatever I want," he said. He leaned forward and licked my neck. His breath was hot and sweet as he whispered in my ear. "Tell me what you like."
His closeness only heightened my arousal. "I like a man who's not afraid to taste me."
Bryant flipped me back over, burying his face deep between my thighs. He wetted my sex with his tongue, inhaling deeply before coming back up. "You smell like roses," he said, then buried his face once again. He circled my clit with the rough edge of his thick, pink tongue. I moaned as juices flowed freely between us. His tongue slid between my slit, sending shivers up my body. I groaned loudly as he lapped at my inner and outer lips, tasting every inch of me.
"Your pussy's like sugar," he whispered, and I groaned again. "How'd you get so fucking sweet?"
My thighs clenched as his tongue chased an early orgasm.
"Not yet," he commanded, lifting his head. He unzipped his jeans, pushing them off his legs. His shirt came off, and for the first time, I saw the chiseled form of his chest. God, he was hot. Muscles plateaued out of him like he was a fucking mountain range.
"Do I get to taste you now?" I purred.
"I think it's only fair."
I pulled him into my mouth, tasting his essence. He was so hard that I could hardly fit him inside my mouth. My lips wrapped around him, sucking hard against the thick ridges that lined his massive shaft. He tasted like warm, sweet bread. I moved my head up and down as he pushed himself deeper inside me. My mouth swallowed as much of him as I could, almost afraid I might choke on him if he went any deeper. My hands reached out to cup his balls, massaging them as I moved my head in a steady rhythm now.
Bryant groaned, his head tilting back. Somewhere nearby, a horn honked, reminding us that we were not alone. The wetness between my legs spread as I pictured people just outside the car, watching us, wanting to do what we were already doing. Deep arousal filled me, making my pussy ache.
"Oh, God," I groaned, pulling him out of my mouth. "Fuck me. Just fuck me already."
He grinned down at me. "That's what I wanted to hear. I'm gonna make you cum so hard you'll never forget this one night together for the rest of your life."
"Just one night?" I asked, teasingly.
"I don't do repeats," he said.
I said, "And I don't fuck football players. At least, not more than once. Stop talking already and get inside me."
Bryant didn't need any more encouragement. His fingers gathered my wetness on their tips, massaging my juices over his shaft. My heart thumped hard against my chest as he bumped his cock against my clit before sliding inside me with one hard thrust. He started to fuck me. My body began to shake as he hit my g-spot over and over again.
"Oh God," I moaned, and he fucked me harder.
The car smelled like sex now. It filled my nostrils as Bryant's sweat dripped into my mouth. I swallowed it, tasting the sweet-salty juices that rolled off his skin. He groaned with each thrust, pushing himself deeper and deeper into my cave.
"Do you like it when I fuck you hard like this?" he taunted.
<
br /> "Stop asking questions and make me cum," I screamed.
I lifted my hips to his, bumping hard against them. He smacked against me, harder and faster, going so deep into me that he bottomed out. His balls slapped against me as he pulsed. His hand moved down, clutching my waist, helping me to move with him. His fingers were like feathers on my skin, caressing me every time I moved up to meet his thrust. I moaned louder. I knew I was getting close. I could feel my head grow light and the world begin to spin. My thighs clenched. My pussy closed tighter around his cock as he pushed his way deeper inside me.
I couldn't keep it in much longer. Bryant's eyes burned a crisp, sky blue as he looked right at me. His cock grew, pulsing inside me like a heartbeat, before exploding into me. I let myself go with him, feeling his heat fill me, running over me, dripping from my wet pussy as my head exploded with pleasure. He pumped once more into me, making sure I was done, then pulled a rag out from his glove box to clean us up. "That was fun," he said, before driving me back to my car.
4
Jackson
I woke up, stretched my arms, and felt a soft lump on the pillow to my right. "Morning," a woman's voice said. I opened one eye and saw a mass of blonde, curly hair half buried under the blanket.
"Hey, Paula," I said.
"Patti," she replied tersely, throwing the blanket back.
"That's what I said."
Someone moaned to my left, and I looked over, surprised for a minute to see the redhead still here. I thought she'd gone home.
"Hey... you," I said.
"You probably think her name's Selma or some shit," Patti said, getting out of bed.
"Not at all," I replied. In the daylight, Patti's body wasn't nearly as good as it had looked last night. Her tits were obviously plastic. The redhead's were real, but I wasn't so sure about the rest of her. "What time is it?" I groaned. How much had I drunk anyway? My head felt like it had been run over by a jackhammer.
"Ten," Patti said. She was standing in front of the mirror, looking at her face.
"Ten!" I shouted, jumping out of bed, suddenly awake. "Fuck me!"
Patti turned around, grinning. "Thought we’d already done that, but I'm happy to go for round two if you like."
I pushed her hands away as she tried to kiss me. "Not now," I said. "I'm late."
"Quiet," the redhead muttered. "I'm still sleeping."
"No, you're not," I said, pulling back the covers to reveal her soft, pink skin. She was prettier than Patti until she opened her eyes. Her right eye was the bright green I'd been so entranced by the other night. The other was a dull gray.
"Shit," she said.
"What is it, Brandi?"
Brandi? That was the redhead's name?
"I lost a contact. I can only see out of one eye."
She searched the bed a moment before peeling the green from her eye and throwing it into a wastebasket. She caught my look. "It's less disorienting if I'm seeing the same out of both eyes, even if things are a little fuzzy."
I shook my head. This morning was starting out all wrong. I’d better fix it fast. I had already missed that meeting Keith set up with Emma; now I was about to miss practice. "Get up," I said. "I've gotta go."
"Can we get a shower first?" Patti asked.
"No," I snapped. "I'll call you a cab."
"It'll take them time to get here," Patti said, gathering up her clothes.
"We'll see about that."
I had the cab service on speed dial and bribed them with an extra fifty if they could get here in ten minutes or less. Eight minutes later, the cab was honking.
"Bye, girls," I said. "It was fun."
"Not even breakfast?" Brandi asked, pouting.
"Sorry, girls, I can't. But here, stop somewhere and get yourselves something if you're hungry." I pulled a hundred from my wallet and handed it to them. Some girls might've been insulted by that, but Patti and Brandi beamed.
"Gee, thanks," Brandi said.
"Sure thing," I said, slamming the cab's door. When they were on their way, I hurried to my Porsche and jumped in, speeding all the way to Tomcats Stadium. I wasn't too worried about Emma. For all of her talk last night, she was still a woman, and if I could just get her alone, I was sure I could smooth things over. It still bothered me that she had left last night's party with Bryant and not with me, but I knew there was probably a good reason for that. Bryant was a piece of shit. Some women were just into assholes. Emma was hot as hell, but she probably had a screw loose. With Keith as her father, I wouldn't be surprised if she had daddy issues. He was one tough sonofabitch in negotiations. I could only imagine how he was as a father.
Coach Granger was gonna be pissed. He reamed people out for being five minutes late, and I was two hours past start time. My mind raced with excuses, trying to come up with something better than a drunken ménage with two semi-hotties.
I ran into the stadium, flying past security as I headed straight for the field after quickly throwing on my uniform. I could hear Coach Granger yelling at the team. His voice was almost as big as he was. With a waist six inches past the buckle and a frame to match, he would've intimidated most people who didn't know him. The thing was, Coach was a teddy bear. Sure, if you fucked up at practice or did some shit heel move outside the stadium, he'd ream you out, but if something bad was going on your life or your first baby had just been born, Coach made sure you got the time off you needed and was first in line with a stuffed puppy or kitty. He'd played football himself back in the day. Now, at fifty, he enjoyed teaching other guys how to be better than he had been.
"There he is!" Coach yelled when he saw me. "The lost Tomcat."
"Sorry, Coach," I yelled.
"It's not me I think you need to apologize to," he said, indicating that I should look behind me. I turned around and saw Emma. Her golden hair flowed past her shoulders in soft ringlets, and her cheeks were a petal pink. She glared at me when she saw me.
"Hey, Emma," I said, immediately putting on my best puppy dog face. "I'm sorry. I had car trouble."
Emma stopped and stared at me like I was speaking gibberish. "Car trouble?" she bellowed. "Car trouble?" I guess she didn't believe me. I'd never seen a woman look so angry, or so damned hot when she was angry. Her face glowed every time she yelled at me. It was almost worth it to piss her off, just to see the light in her eyes when she was all riled up.
She walked over to Dolan Newton and grabbed the football he was holding. Before I knew it, it was sailing through the air, directly at my nose.
5
Emma
I couldn't believe Jackson had the gall to lie to me right to my face. "I wasn't born fucking yesterday," I shouted at him. "Your car wouldn't start is a bunch of bullshit." The team started laughing behind them.
One of the guys shouted, "You tell him, Emma!"
Another player called out, "Hey, Jackson, why don't you play nice with the pretty lady?"
From over by home plate, I saw Bryant watching us, a huge grin on his face as if this was all entertainment for him. "Forget about her, Jackson," Bryant called out. "She just wants to get you alone so she can suck your cock. You're right. The Tomcats are never gonna re-sign you. Go with Florida. Maybe you'll get lucky and get eaten by a crocodile." Bryant's words pissed me off. He'd given me exactly what I'd needed last night, but I was glad it was only a one-time thing. Bryant was a dick.
Jackson cast an annoyed glance at Bryant then turned back to me, lifting his shoulders in a shrug. "Whatever. I've got practice right now. The Seattle game is coming up. I've got to get ready. I'll hit you up later."
He was absolutely infuriating. "You'll hit me up now or forget about renewing with the Tomcats altogether," I told him. I knew my father would never let me get away with that and only hoped that Jackson didn't call my bluff.
"It doesn't matter," Jackson said. "Everybody knows the Tomcats can't match Florida's offer. Not with Osbourne taking such a chunk out of the team's budget." He turned his head and glared at Bryant.
"Not my fault my contract's set for another year," Bryant hollered back to him.
"So you've already made up your mind to go to Florida then?" I asked. Jackson hesitated, and I pounced. "Just come and talk to me. I promise you we can work something out if you'll only give me an opportunity to present it all to you."
But Jackson was shaking his head, as stubborn as he was sexy. "Practice comes first. We can sort this shit out later."
"You can sort it out now," Coach Granger said, sounding annoyed.
Jackson looked at him, his face growing red as he tried to suppress his temper. "What are you talking about? What about practice?"
"Practice is canceled—for you," Coach said. "You showed up two hours too late."
"I can still get in some kicks. Some passes. You guys haven't packed it up yet." Jackson looked desperately at his coach.
"Not this time. If you want to practice, then you show up at start time. What if this was a game? Are you gonna leave your teammates hanging? Bryant was on time. Everyone here was on time, except for you. Now get off the field and sort your shit out. I'll see you at tomorrow's practice, unless that fancy car you drive breaks down again, that is, and you can't find a goddamn phone."
Jackson looked so shocked for a moment that I almost felt bad for him—almost. He stood with his jaw open, then slowly, he turned his gaze on me. His brown eyes, which normally looked like the most delicious chocolate you could sink your teeth into, were almost black. He narrowed them at me as he walked past.
"Where the hell do you think you're going?" I asked, chasing after him. If I didn't know my job was on the line, I'd let him go. Jackson was a cocky asshole who didn't deserve the money he was being offered. But if I did that, my father would never give me another job. I'd had to practically beg him for this one. My reputation would be shot. And in this business, reputation was everything.
