by Dark Angel
"No, that's not what I am trying to say right now. I'm saying that I replaced your father out of ambition. I was blinded by the urge to win—the rings, the accolades, a higher salary—and I lost focus on what was important."
I look at him, and I realize that this is the most conversation I have ever allowed myself to engage in with Karl.
"I was wrong, Julianna. There is not a day that goes by that I don't regret that decision. I never should have replaced your father. Never. It haunts me."
"Well, this goes beyond choosing a player to keep or replace on this team." I look at Karl to try and see if he understands where I am coming from. He continues to sit in the chair, patient and humble, so I continue. "I'm guessing I don't need to repeat the things being said about me in the media—in regards to Colt Stackford and Ethan Blake?"
He shakes his head. "No, I've heard and seen it all."
"I know I have made a lot of unconventional choices in my life. That much is clear. I take ownership over that, and people can make whatever judgment calls they'd like about me. But I take my career seriously. In fact, I put my career above all else, and—"
"Yes, I don't doubt your loyalty to this franchise."
"Well, on the flipside, I've never been settled in my personal life. I've had a lot of fun, but I'm now thinking that maybe I need to make a change."
"How so?"
"This is difficult for me to say. I'm treading into new territory here, but I am finding myself in love. And fuck I'm so confused. I don't know how it has happened, but I am in love with both men. Every time I try to picture myself with one and not the other, it doesn't feel right. But for the sake of the team, I know I have to choose, no matter how difficult it may be."
"I don't want you to live with the guilt of a bad decision," Karl says. "It's like waking up from a nightmare, only to realize that the nightmare is your life. You are a great person. You're a terrific franchise owner and businesswoman. If your father were here right now, he'd be proud."
That statement makes tears well up in my eyes. I look up at the ceiling so that they do not spill down my cheeks. I press under my eyes with the tips of my fingers.
"Listen to me, Julianna. No matter what you do, follow your heart. Teams win and lose. Money is made and lost. But the right people can last you a lifetime." Karl's gaze is so intense that I feel as if he is boring a hole straight through my chest. I know he is right, and his sincerity is palpable.
"I know, but it's tough to hear what my heart has to say sometimes. Sometimes it just defies logic, you know?"
"I'll say it again because it's worth repeating: follow your heart and surround yourself with the right people."
"Even when the right people are two men who you are both very much in love with?" I interject.
"It's like the story of the crab bucket. When you throw a crab into a bucket with other crabs, it's never able to climb back out—not because the bucket is too deep, or too slippery. No, it's never able to climb out because it gets tangled up with the other crabs—their claws and pinchers holding each other back. The same lesson works with people. The wrong people drag you down. The right people help you soar. If I can convince you to follow your heart and to not make the same mistakes I have in my life, it would make me rest easy—like atoning for my sins."
I watch as a single tear slips from his eye. He quickly brushes it away, and for the first time all week, I feel a sense of clarity. I look at my watch. It is now almost noon. Shit.
I look at Karl. He smiles at me and all of a sudden I no longer see a man I need to seek revenge on to vindicate my dad. I see a mentor that despite all the disrespect I’ve shown him thinking I’ve been a strong woman, is still supporting me and helping me.
I smile at Karl and take a step over to hug him. He hugs me back. We stay for a long moment, until I pull back and look at him.
“Karl,” I say, for the first time in my life not sure of my words. “I’m so sorry. For everything. The way I behaved…”
He doesn’t let me finish. Instead, he smiles at me.
“You don’t need to apologize, Julianna,” he says and I feel embarrassed all of a sudden at how big he is. “Not for anything I don’t kick my own stupid ass over.”
I’m about to tell him that he’s wrong. That I’ve been wrong.
But he understands that.
Instead he tells me something different.
“Go,” he says.
I nod my head. Clarity.
I need to find Colt and Ethan.
Colt
Jesus Christ, what a fucking week.
Actually, what a fucking month.
If I could go back in time and try to redo anything in my life, it would have to be this month. There's not much else in my life I want a do-over on, but this has got to be one of the major periods.
Although, I mean, what the fuck would I do differently?
If given the chance, I sure as hell would get naked and engage in whatever it was that Julianna, Ethan, and I did. I'd fuck her again for sure. Ethan and me? I have no fucking regrets.
Seriously. Despite the constant fucking media chatter, I wouldn't undo any of those actions.
What would I undo?
I look out the window of my condo on the Upper East Side.
I know what you're going to fucking say, okay. Mr. Bad Boy of the NFL lives in the buttoned down Park Avenue condo on 70th Street. What the fuck, right? Why aren't I living like Julianna, at the Time Warner Center in Columbus Circle, where Beyonce and Jay-Z live. Why am I living amongst old heiresses and widows?
I'd tell you to shut the fuck up if you asked me that two months ago.
But not anymore.
And now you're asking why I'm not going to ask you to shut the fuck up?
Fucking Christ. I gotta spell everything out for you don't I?
Because I'm getting the horrible feeling that I've been doing the wrong fucking thing for too fucking long.
I mean, I hated Ethan. Hell, he probably hates me. But why do I feel so fucking turned on when I'm around him? Why was my cock so hard as I jerked him off? Why do I still jerk off to thinking about that? Right about the same time I'm jerking it to Julianna. And then when I think about both, Lord help me.
I mean, I used to hate Ethan. I know I was wrong about that.
What else was I wrong about?
The way I treated women?
The way I thought the world was against me?
Did my family really never care about me or was I just so under pressure to win that I began to think these things?
Let's be real though. My thinking and even changing my fucking demeanor isn't going to do a whole lot.
Our games fucking suck. Our morale is shot to hell.
Between the video of the hand job surfacing and then the skybox, the team’s lost all confidence in me.
They don’t understand that not seeing Julianna or Ethan in so fucking long has made me realize something.
I fucking love them both.
Julianna can talk back to me and owns herself and her sexuality. Ethan is my counterweight.
Without them, I’m fucking nothing.
And neither are the Nailers. Seriously.
After the bye, we lost the next game against the Los Angeles Lickers. Only this last Monday did we squeak out a 17-16 win against the Pittsburgh Pimps.
Ethan still fucking hates me. Actually, I take it back. At least before he would talk to me. Now he doesn’t even acknowledge me. At least before he would take the time to tell me to shut the fuck up or try to put me in my place when I was being an ass. Now, it's like he's shut me out of his world completely.
I don't know how to reach Julianna. It's not like there has been much fraternizing between team owners and players in the past. And I don’t how to reach her if she’s not responding to my texts. I can't really go ask Coach Karl to set me up on a date with the owner. He'd smack me up side the fucking head with his clipboard.
The team was willing to forgive my loc
ker room incident with Ethan. But this has them completely stunned. Because I apologized to them and then another tape showed up. Everyone on the team is walking on fucking eggshells.
Add to all this, the media has really been crushing our nuts lately. They've been hitting the Nailers hard. And they've gotten a special boner for screwing Ethan, me, and Julianna up the ass.
It's not a day that goes by without some girl from Ole Miss coming out and talking about how I fucked her at a Delta Sigma Rho party.
If I were an outsider, I'd actually be pretty entertained.
I mean, who knew Ethan fucked his math professor his junior year. Well, she just sold her fucking story to the News of the Times. Claims he banged the living shit out of her at least three or four times. Not for any grades or anything, mind you - just because.
Julianna - man, she's in a world of hurt herself. One of the dudes that used to drive her limo just did a tell all for the Enquirer. Talks about how she would come out of the club, pick up a guy, fuck him, and drop him off on the next street.
Wait a second.
Does that fucking remind you of someone?
No. I'm serious. I never really thought much about it before.
I sure as hell never made the connection either.
Fucking hell.
I don't know how long I've been standing on my balcony, looking down 22 stories at Park Avenue thinking this shit, when my doorbell rings and jars me out of whatever trance I was in.
I don't remember anyone asking to be buzzed up and I'm curious so I walk over and open the door.
Fuck.
It's Julianna.
I back away from the door to let her in, but other than that, am pretty fucking silent.
She's wearing black yoga pants and a tight, white t-shirt.
"I was just running," she says, looking at me. "I thought I'd stop by."
Right. I've never once told her where I live. Never once have I even had her over.
I walk into the living room, motioning for her to do the same. She follows me and I go over to the bar.
"Want a drink?" I ask.
She nods her head. She's quiet. Too quiet. I don't like it when she's fucking quiet. She's not normally like this.
"I haven't gotten a chance to talk to you in a while," she says as I pour the drinks but the moment I turn around she averts her eyes.
Well, it's too late for that right now. She's in my fucking apartment. I walk over to her and hand her drink.
"I've always been here," I tell her in response to her statement.
"I've just been told to keep some distance," she says, taking a sip.
You know how I know I'm really feeling this woman?
She takes a sip of the scotch I poured, and doesn't wince.
She doesn't make a face. She takes it down, and lets it burn.
She's more of a fucking player than most men I know.
Maybe even more than me. She's a fucking bad girl. Doesn't take any shit from anyone. Probably one of the strongest people I've ever fucking met.
But even the strongest person withers when the whole world turns against you. I know because I am.
I fucking love her.
Jesus Christ. I can't believe it, but that's exactly what I'm thinking in the moment. Since the moment I fucking laid eyes on her. Since the moment I started checking out her ass. She had a vibe that was attractive to me. More than attractive. Like a fucking siren call out in the ocean.
They say there's plenty of fish in the sea? Well I'm a shark. And this woman has just ensnared me.
"Why'd you come over, Julianna?" I say, looking directly at her, not mincing any words.
She looks at me, and our eyes meet and I can feel an electricity go back and forth between us.
"I wanted to see..." she trails off and looks out the window and I can tell she's kicking herself for how unsure she feels. "I wanted to see how you were. And how Ethan's doing. I haven't talked to him in a while. Ever since..."
I shake my head. No need for her to continue. "Yeah, I haven't talked to him in a while either. Ever since the loss to the stepbrothers and when we..."
Now it's me that doesn't continue.
But it's like it's lit a fire inside of her. She downs her drink and turns around and takes a step closer. All of a sudden I can smell her Givenchy fragrance go through my nostrils and I can almost feel her warmth.
God, she’s fucking beautiful. Massive and springy fucking titties and tight fucking ass. Nice long legs that go on forever. My cock is twitching like it's gone fucking insane.
"I saw what happened between the two of you," she says. "I think the world knows too much about our sex lives."
"Yeah, but I think they just couldn't get enough of me jerking Ethan," I say with a smirk. She smiles back and takes a step closer.
Hol-ee shit. I finish my glass and put it down. I didn't even notice but she's put her glass down as well.
"What were you thinking?" she asks and I can feel her body brushing slightly off me now. Just the barest hint. "When you had your hand wrapped around his cock?"
“I wanted him to fuck me,” I say out loud for the first time. To her. And to myself.
A wicked gleam goes through Julianna’s eyes and she reaches over and grabs at her shirt and pulls it off.
I’m staring at her beautiful fucking tits. They’re encased in a lace white bra and she looks so fucking sexy.
My hearts fucking beating a mile a minute.
I don't exactly know why I feel like that, but I need to be close to her. Yet, I simply stand there like a fucking chump, taking in the sight of her.
She’s beautiful, as beautiful as any woman had the right to be. Her bra is showcasing her tits gorgeously and her black yoga pants trace the contour of her legs in such a way that it almost makes my cock ache. I want nothing more than to reach for her and lay my hands on her body.
I take one step forward, suddenly feeling some sort of fucking anxiety washing over me. Why am I like this? I’ve been with her before. We had an amazing time. Fuck, I’ve been with too many other women to remember.
But why is it different this time?
I don’t know. And in the end, I don’t fucking care.
All that matters is that she’s close. So close I can feel her breath now. Her eyes are dancing this insane Morse code of sex.
“Do you think about him, when you think about me?” she asks.
I nod my head. She squirms.
She’s getting hot.
I gaze into her almond shaped eyes, and almost fucking lose myself in them.
But by the time I come back, I’m already leaning into her.
My lips are brushing up against hers as if that’s the most important thing I could ever do in this fucking life.
My hands are on her hips, and I pull her into me gently.
"I missed those lips,” Julianna whispers, pulling back just enough to say those words. She takes one hand to my cheek and lays her fingers there, her eyes locked on me.
"And I missed you, all of you," was all that I can say. I didn't even know why I say it, all I know is that I have to say it. She leans for the kiss and, closing my eyes, I let her mouth fit against me.
I savor her strawberry lips slow and delicately. She does too - as if she wants to imprint the memory of this kiss on her brain in such a way that she will never forget it. Considering how our lives our going, it’s probably smart. I reached with my tongue and, feeling hers, our kiss grows passionately, my hands pulling eagerly on her hips.
Her small fingers go to my jacket and pull it down my arms; I throw it off, quickly placing my hands on her hips again, as if it pains me to be away from her fucking tight body. She starts unbuttoning my shirt with slow movements, baring my chest inch by inch.
It is impossible to resist her body, and my fingers go around her hips and over the curve of her ass, cupping it and feeling how gorgeous she is, how everything about her just seem so fucking delicious.
She sighs in pleas
ure at my pull and, throwing my shirt away, lays her lips against my neck. I let my head tilt back, breathing in the scent of her hair as her hands explore my side and find their resting place over the clasp of my belt; with deft fingers she unfastens it, popping out my pants' top button.
I shudder as I feel her pulling down my zipper, warm blood hurrying down between my legs and making me feel as alive as I have ever felt. Like when I’m on the field. Only, so much fucking better. My cock strains against my boxer briefs, the bulging there brushing against her knuckles. In one swift motion, she opens her hand and pressed her palm against my monster fucking cock, and it pulses impatiently against her.
I’m fucking squeezing her ass, her perfect shape filling my hands, I take my mouth to her neck and nibble at the smooth flesh there, her perfume climbing up my nostrils and taking my brain by assault. I feel her exhale deeply against my ear, the sound of it the sweetest thing I have ever fucking heard.
She takes her arms to behind my back, her hands darting lower towards my pants and sending them down my legs. I kick off my shoes and pants in a flowing hurried motion and go back to her lips, kissing her ardently as our tongues dance in a circle around each other.
A shiver goes up my spine as the palm of her hand flexes against my crotch, my thickness resting there as it snuggles between her small and delicate fingers. She tugs on it, the soft and cautious movement of her hand enough to make me gasp. When she starts kissing down my neck, her smooth lips brush over my nipples and towards my stomach, I close my eyes in anticipation. This is going to be fucking intense.
Julianna goes down to her knees and, leaning forward, places her mouth over the straining shape that tents my boxer briefs. She sucks on it over the fabric, her lips tightly wrapping around my thickness. Biting down on my lower lip, I run my hands through her hair, feeling the silkiness of it kissing at my fingertips.
My cock pulses hard against her hand as I feel fingernails clawing at the hem of my boxer briefs, the fabric of it sliding down my ass. She pushes down with her two hands, my cock revealing itself to her as hard as it has ever been, its tip glistening in eagerness.
In a way, it surprises me how much I crave her touch. It’s fucking driving me batshit crazy - so much that when she wraps her hand around my cock, stroking it down ever so slowly, I have to tense my whole fucking body in order to not cum right there and then. I breathe out sharply as, looking down on her, I see her figure leaning in, the crevice between her parted lips looking heaven-sent.
