Satisfied 2X

by Nicole Elliot

  “You’re sleeping with him. You don’t qualify as unbiased.”

  “How did you know?” My eyes flashed to hers. Were all my secrets written on my forehead?

  “The paint for one.” She huffed. “But it’s Dylan James. He wanted you. He got you. It’s a simple equation.”

  I closed my eyes. She made it sound so dirty. As if I didn’t matter to him. I knew that wasn’t true. We had shared something together that defied traditional boxes and labels.

  “This fake engagement works for us, ok?” I tried to muster some sort of defense. “I need your help, Charlie. Please don’t judge what mistakes I may have made before now. I’ve done the best I could.” I straightened my shoulders.

  She sighed. “You’re right. What’s done is done. But before I even go anywhere near these files, I need to lock down this auction story. I’m going to need the names of every player who was there. If it gets out there that your engagement isn’t real and that the Warriors participated in auctioning a woman? Can you imagine? Every woman who has ever worked for the organization is going to start suing for sexual harassment. You’ll never escape the image of being a piece of property. And damn it, you own that team, Vanessa.” She slammed her palm on the writing desk.

  I nodded. “I think Dylan can help you with that. He was there.”

  “Good. And I will see Steve first thing in the morning. He is such an asshole for this. A fucking auction?” She rolled her eyes.

  “I don’t know what to say.”

  “You don’t have to say any more. I’ve got this now. I’m going to talk to Dylan. I’ll take the safe with me.”

  I nodded. “Please.”

  I sat at the desk while Charlie strolled confidently to find Dylan. I watched through the glass door as she talked to him about the auction. He nodded from time to time. It was like watching something unfold on TV. But it was in my kitchen. This was my life now.

  Thirty-One

  Dylan

  I loved the first game of the season. Understatement. I was fucking obsessed with it. There was a kind of energy that buzzed in the locker room that we didn’t feel the rest of the season. It was the promise that anything could happen.

  We could win our division. Set records. Make the fans erupt. Everything was possible. The Super Bowl. Complete victory. The ultimate championship. It was all in our reach.

  Right here in this moment, all of it was only a game away. Nothing was set in stone. The Warriors had just as much chance as the Wranglers to break free from the pack. We were all gunning for the same thing. A winning season. A glorious road to our dreams coming true.

  Isaac slapped me on the back. “Ready?”

  We reached for our helmets. The equipment crew had polished them for the game.

  “Hell yeah.”

  “They are insane out there.” He motioned toward the tunnel. The stadium was filled.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever heard them this loud before.”

  We both knew what it meant to Vanessa to have the tickets sold. To have this kind of turn out for the home opener. Now it was our turn to do our part for her. We had to win this damn game. Put the W on the scoreboard. Thrill the crowd. End the speculation that the Warriors were too distracted in the pre-season. This was our chance.

  Running through the tunnel, my adrenaline pumped through my veins. I jogged through a cloud of smoke, surrounded by fireworks. The music was deafening as we took the field, crossing in front of the fans.

  My eyes traveled up the massive rows until I found the ownership box. I couldn’t see her from here, but I knew she was there. I knew Vanessa was watching. I strapped my helmet on and lined up with the rest of the team.

  We all knew it was coming. The tribute to the man who had built this team. But it was hard to stomach the photo montage that played after the national anthem. There were pictures of Vanessa as a child with her grandparents. Pictures of McCade with players through the years. If we didn’t know better, you’d think the league’s favorite owner had died. The slide show was a tribute to a man we had never liked. But we stood in solidarity, wearing our Mac patches and respected the video until the last shot played.

  Applewhite shouted at us to huddle around him.

  Isaac was next to me. “That was fucked up, wasn’t it?”

  “No shit,” I answered. I didn’t want memorials. I wanted to play football. I’d be happy as soon as the whistle blew.

  Thirty-Two

  Vanessa

  It was hard to believe we were two months into the season. Out of seven games we had lost two. I knew Dylan and Isaac were pissed about those two losses, but I couldn’t believe the season was going as well as it was.

  Team moral was up. It might have had something to do with the contract I signed to break ground on the new indoor training facility. I was embarrassed it hadn’t been built before now.

  The press followed me wherever I went. It seemed as if there should have been more news to cover in Austin other than how I was planning my wedding, or expanding the franchise’s structures, but I was in some kind of new romance with the press.

  Charlie assured me it was better this way. It was the good kind of attention. The kind the Warriors needed.

  It was Sunday. Game day. Game eight.

  I loved waking up in Isaac’s king bed.

  “Good morning, baby.” He kissed the back of my neck. I was wearing a Warriors T-shirt and no panties.

  “Good morning.” I smiled.

  Dylan was in the shower. He liked to get to the stadium earlier than everyone else. It was the only time he seemed to be intensely focused. He was having an incredible season. They both were.

  Isaac’s hands snaked up my stomach, pushing the T-shirt over my breasts. The fabric made my nipples tingle as it edged over them.

  “Mmm,” I moaned.

  He tucked me under him, pinning my arms over my head as he nudged my knees wide and nestled between my legs.

  He kissed my throat, making my body wake up with each of his kisses.

  “So fucking sexy in the morning,” he groaned.

  “So are you.” I looked in his eyes.

  He laughed. “And you’re cute.”

  He leaned over to the bedside table, flipping a condom between his fingers. I whimpered, wanting him. He couldn’t get it on fast enough.

  He pushed into me, slamming hard with all his weight.

  “Oh Isaac,” I moaned.

  I loved sex with him. I loved sex with Dylan. Both. It was all different and special. On our own we could explore our bodies in ways we couldn’t all together. I had the best of all worlds. I knew how insanely lucky I was as he rocked into me, thrusting his solid cock inside me.

  “I love fucking you, Vanessa.”

  I nodded, my eyes closing sleepily. “Yes. Fuck me, please.”

  The sweat began to drip down his chest as he pumped harder and faster. His rough hands palmed my breasts before twisting my nipples between his fingers.

  “Ohh,” I shot forward. They’d never felt so sensitive before. So on fire.

  “Fuck, you’re killing me,” he growled, grabbing my ass and pulling me toward him. “I need you on your knees now.”

  I nodded. “Oh yes.”

  I rolled on my stomach and crawled to edge of the bed, planting myself on all fours. He positioned himself behind me, slipping the condom off.

  I sighed, knowing where he was going to go.

  He pressed his cock to my ass. I ground backward and relaxed my tight muscles so he could push inside me.

  “Fuck, I love your ass.”

  “Holy shit.” Dylan stood in the doorway, dripping wet from the shower. “Fuck, that’s hot.”

  He walked toward the edge of the bed. I licked my lips as he offered his cock to me. My mouth parted as he slid it between my lips.

  “Fuck,” he growled. “You give me the best blow jobs, darlin’.” He grabbed the back of my head, coaxing his dick deeper in my throat.

  He tasted sweet and clea
n. I sucked hard as Isaac sank into my ass, stretching and widening it. I rocked and swayed between them. Between these men I couldn’t live without.

  “Hold her, so she can touch herself,” Isaac breathed raggedly.

  Dylan steadied me under my arms as he fucked my mouth relentlessly.

  “Touch that pretty clit of yours, Vanessa. Pump those fingers in your pussy, so you’re completely full.”

  I could only groan. His cock filled my mouth. He kept me balanced as I reached one hand between my legs. I was soaking wet. So rich with honey. I closed my eyes as my fingers swept over my clit. It was on fire. I whimpered, shuddering from all the sensations.

  “Go on, baby. Fuck those pretty fingers,” Isaac growled. “We’ve got you. We have all of you.”

  I pushed my fingers inside my walls, disappearing in the haze of the fantasy. I could feel the pressure of Isaac’s cock as I kept my fingers inside me. It was erotic and amazing.

  I looked up. Dylan’s eyes bore into mine as he grew closer to his climax.

  “That’s it. Fuck us all, Vanessa. You can make us all come. You. Are so damned sexy. So fucking hot with my dick in your mouth. So fucking beautiful when Isaac fucks your ass. You are taking us there. Fuck yourself. Take us there.”

  I wanted to scream out. I wanted them to hear how much I enjoyed it. How Dylan’s dirty words rang true in my sexual soul. I was beautiful. I felt so loved and adored. So completely worshipped as they took care of my body.

  I quivered and quaked as they thrust in unison. One. Two. Three.

  They yelled toward the ceiling as their releases fired inside me. I sucked greedily at Dylan’s cum, drinking him in. My ass was warm and soothed and the fireworks exploded through my core, taking over my thighs and legs until my toes curled with pure pleasure.

  Dylan staggered backward. “Damn, girl. I think I fucking love you.”

  My eyes widened. “What?”

  “What?” Isaac echoed.

  Dylan looked as shocked as we were. “I-I…shit.”

  “No.” I shook my head. “I love you too. Come here.” I opened my arms, drawing him down for a kiss. His tongue twirled inside my mouth. “Say it again,” I whispered.

  “I fucking love you,” he growled.

  I spun from him to Isaac. “I love you too, Isaac. I love you so much.”

  He groaned as his mouth landed on mine. His hands covered my body as he bit at my lips.

  “I love you, Vanessa.”

  I wanted to stay in bed all day like this. Loving them. But it was game day.

  “We have to get going, darlin’,” Dylan reminded me. He picked the towel up from the floor.

  “I know.” I pouted. “I just can’t believe we all said that and now we have to go to the stadium.”

  Isaac pulled my hair back, kissing me under my ear. “It won’t change between now and when we celebrate our win tonight. I love fucking you because I love you.” He pressed his forehead to mine. I shivered with the words.

  Could this be real? Could I be in love with both of them equally? I felt it with every part of me. They were a part of who I was now. I’d never choose one over the other. And that meant loving them together was the only way my heart could operate.

  “Come on, man.” Dylan had started to walk out of the room. “I’ll be ready to head in in five.”

  “Game day jitters?” Isaac ribbed.

  “More like game day records to break. Who do you think gets more yards today you or me?” He looked at the ceiling. “I’m guessing me.”

  “Shut up, Dylan.”

  Isaac lingered in bed. I knew he had to get in the shower. The clock was ticking down on our minutes together.

  He closed his eyes. “Tonight. We’ll do something special tonight.”

  I nodded. He hopped off the bed, making his way to the shower, closing the bathroom door behind him.

  Dylan smiled at me from the doorway. He strolled toward me, leaning over the bed. I rocked backward as his lips crashed into mine.

  “I’ve never it said before.”

  I stared at him in disbelief. “Really?”

  He nodded. “I didn’t want to tell you that in front of Isaac, but it’s true.” He drew a long slow kiss from my lips. “See you after the game.” He winked and was gone.

  I had to keep the squeal inside. Because all I wanted to do was jump up and down on Isaac’s bed and shout to the world that they loved me. That I loved them. And that life was so perfect.

  Thirty-Three

  Isaac

  Only a month to go before playoffs started. Each game meant more. We were getting closer to the end goal. If only we could fend off the Wranglers today. We’d be one step closer to clenching the division.

  The fans were rowdy. They usually were when the San Antonio team was in town. It was a bitter rivalry that had divided more than one Texas family in half.

  I stood on the sideline, waiting for a defense to get a turnover. It was almost halftime. The score was tied seven to seven.

  I looked up at the jumbo-tron, just as Lenny sacked Wes Blakefield.

  “Yeah!” I pumped my arm in the air.

  The Wranglers offense ran off the field. It was fourth down. They had to punt the ball.

  The wide receivers coach walked over to me. “We’re changing the route,” Benji smacked his gums. He was a smoker, and during games he was stressed so he went through packs of gum, mints, anything he could chew on since cigarettes were off limits.

  Dylan leaned over. “Changing the route?”

  “Yeah. The Wranglers are all over you two. Let’s mix it up. Price, you’ve got the right and James you take the left. Count stays the same.”

  Dylan and I nodded. We’d run these plays backward and forward. But it was rare we changed up sides of the field like this in the middle of the game.

  “Got it.” I slid the helmet on over my head.

  Warriors special teams ran the ball back to the forty-yard line. Dylan and I ran to the line, waiting for Luke to take the snap count.

  I looked to my right and to my left. These were the moments that defined us. When we proved we were better than the enemy. When we showed our strength and endurance. That our training and skills could take them down on the battlefield.

  I knew the ball was coming to me. I had to run thirty yards and keep the defender off my tail. It was simple. I had run the play a hundred times.

  Luke yelled for the ball. The line took off. There was a blitz.

  Everyone scrambled as I sprinted for the opening in the field. The offensive line held the pocket long enough for Luke to rocket the ball in my direction. I kept my eyes on the spiral soaring through the sky. I ran, one long yard after another. My arms reached upward as I snatched the ball from the air.

  I yanked it toward my chest as the defensive back lunged for me. He missed my waist, clinging for any part of me he could grab, when his hands clutched my knee. He jerked my knee to the side bringing me down with sudden force as if I were a huge oak being toppled. I did everything in my power to hold on to the ball. I had moved us at least thirty yards, if not thirty-five. We had the first down and great field position.

  But as the rest of my body fell forward, the defenders hands wrenched my knee into an awkward position and it twisted under my weight.

  I howled with the pain. The fans erupted in cheers. I heard them chanting my name. I couldn’t move. I rolled on my back, trying to figure out how I was going to limp off the field, but the pain paralyzed my ability to move. The pain spread up my back. Fuck. My leg was killing me.

  I gripped the sides.

  The defender grinned, running back to the sidelines.

  “Fucker,” I growled.

  Dylan jogged over when he saw I didn’t hop up. “Man, you ok?”

  I bore my eyes into his. “Medic,” I answered.

  He nodded, motioning to the sideline. Within seconds the entire medical team surrounded me.

  “I want to walk off this field.” I gritted my teeth.r />
  The head team physician knelt beside me. “Isaac, let us get the cart. You need to have your leg secured. We don’t know how bad it is.”

  “No,” I fired. “I’m walking, hobbling, whatever the hell I have to do. I’m not going to carried out of here. And if you try to fucking touch me, so help me…”

  I had seen men who lost limbs find a way to drag their blooded bodies out of a firing zone. I’d seen them carry their best friends through ditches. I watched men bleed out in front of me in the desert after they’d been shot and walked five miles on their own two feet. It was a disgrace to my fallen comrades to be carried off this field. A playing field. A place where I lived a game. Not when they died for so much more.

  I was going to walk on my leg even if it was shattered in a hundred pieces.

  Doc backed away. “You heard the man. Let him walk off the field.” He looked at me. “But we are taking you straight to medical.”

  I nodded. I knew my leg was destroyed. I didn’t need the tests to confirm it.

  The entire stadium was hushed in an eerie silence. They were waiting to see what would happen. They were watching for the stretcher or the cart.

  I raised my thumb in the air and the stands erupted. I couldn’t use my bad leg, but I balanced all my weight on my right and carefully rose to a standing position. I was glad my helmet was still on. They would have seen the tears seep from the corners of my eyes with every step I took.

  Dylan was next to me. “Give me your arm or something. Don’t be a fucking idiot.”

  “No,” I barked. “I’m walking to the locker room.”

  “Then I’m walking with your stubborn ass.”

  “Fine.” I pressed my lips together. He marched beside me, giving me distance as I shuffled off the field.

  By the time I reached the locker room I was gripping the wall for support. The pain was searing through me. “Fuck,” I groaned.

  Doc was right behind me. “Get him in the back of that ambulance immediately.” He pointed to his assistants. There were no cameras. No fans.