Playing To Win: The Complete King Brothers Collection (A Contemporary Romance Box Set)

by Teagan Kade

  I expect her to stay in position, let this climax meet the first somewhere in the hot space of her sex, but instead she reaches down and takes hold of the root of my cock, a single second to lift herself from me before taking me into her mouth.

  “Shi—” but I don’t get the word out before I climax. A pained groan escapes my lips just as I fill her mouth with my release.

  Her lips remain tight around my cock. To my complete and utter surprise, she swallows hard, taking it all, not a single drop leaving her lips.

  I’m seeing stars—literally—lost in a distant universe, pins and needles followed by a cold wave that spreads to my extremities. It’s like she’s sucking away my very soul.

  She swallows the entire mouthful, topping it off by licking the head of my cock clean.

  She sits back on her haunches licking her lips. “Damn. Surprisingly delicious.”

  I convulse again, can’t seem to control it.

  “You all good there or do I need to go get medical attention?”

  I shake my head, but the stars remain. “Just give me a moment.”

  “How’s that for honeymoon sex?”

  “If that is the start of our sex life,” I tell her, “I can’t wait to see what you pull out for our anniversary.”

  *

  The following morning there’s a knock on the bedroom door, Phoenix’s telltale voice following. “Hey, lovebirds, someone’s here to see you.”

  Linnea wakes, lifting herself from my chest with one red cheek. She looks down at the circle of drool she’s left behind. “Shit, sorry.”

  “Don’t be.” I smile, stroking her hair. “I wish I could sleep as peacefully and deep as you do.”

  “After last night, do you blame me?”

  “True. Guess I don’t need a gym if I’ve got you.”

  She kisses me. “And we haven’t even started on the Kama Sutra.”

  I purr in approval dreaming up the many possibilities. After all, she is flexible.

  “Who do you think it is?” asks Linnea.

  “I don’t know, but I guess we better get dressed. Wouldn’t want to show up to our mystery visitor buck naked now, would we?”

  She reaches down and gives my cock a squeeze. It twitches at her touch. “If it’s one of Rex’s goons, you can just club him over the head with this.”

  “A light breeze would bowl those idiots over,” I reply.

  Getting up is the last thing I want to do, but another rap on the door cements it.

  It’s Phoenix again. “Put your dick away and get downstairs, will you? Jamie’s a nice guy, but he not going to wait around all morning while you two play hide the sausage.”

  I shake my head. “Coming.”

  “Too much information,” he says, muttering as he walks off.

  We dress quickly and head downstairs, Linnea in a tight crop I’m doing my best to ignore.

  Jamie’s waiting at the breakfast bar. “Ah, here they are, fresh from…” he stops, unsure what to say. He extends his hand to Linnea instead. “Jamie Henton, at your service.”

  She takes it. “Linnea Marsden.”

  “A pleasure,” he says. “And a nice change. I’ve heard a lot about you. Look—” he throws his satchel up and starts to pull out manilla folders “—I thought I’d come around and show you these offers.”

  Linnea sits beside me on a stool. “Both of us?”

  “Sure,” he smiles. “Two birds with one stone and all that.”

  “You sound like you’ve come to kill us,” I laugh.

  “With money and gifts and fame—if that’s what you want,” he cautions, looking between us. “The decision is entirely up to you, but I should warn you…”

  I’ve heard this spiel about ten thousand times from both Jamie and my father. It seems a King rite of passage. “…These offers are time limited,” I finish. “You’ll have to make a decision soon, yadda yadda yadda.”

  Jamie seems impressed. “Couldn’t have said it better myself.” He splits the folders, sliding one pile to Linnea and the other to me. “Have at it, kids.”

  I still think it’s amusing Jamie sees us as children. He’s been around the family as long as I can remember, and to his credit, he’s a fine agent, but he’s old school—all business polish and pressed suits. It’s not my world.

  Jamie picks up his satchel and nods to us in turn. “I’ll going to head off, but read, think, and get back to me. I got to say it’s kind of bittersweet seeing the last of the King kids off, but I guess all good things must come to an end.”

  “Until the next generation arrives,” I tell him.

  He looks to Linnea. “Is there something I should know?”

  “No,” she replies quickly shaking her head and extending out the word. “Definitely not.”

  “Yet,” I add.

  Jamie sees the look of surprise on Linnea’s face. “Right, I’m going to leave you two to hash that out. Speak soon.”

  He heads off.

  “Are we starting a family, are we?” she asks, more of a tease than a serious question. “I wouldn’t say no to a rug rat or two, especially if they get your genes, but for the time being I think we’re best holding off, wouldn’t you say?”

  “Diapers, sleep deprivation, and dummies? Ti and Maya can have it, thank you very much,” I agree.

  I pick up a folder, Linnea doing likewise.

  “Shall we?” I ask.

  She flips open the first. “We shall.”

  *

  It’s exciting, in a way, looking through the offers and seeing what each team has come up with. I wasn’t expecting such generosity. There are cars and condos, sponsorship deals lined up before I’ve even hit the ice, sketches and mock-ups and graphics galore. It’s a bit unreal, to be honest.

  Given what I’m hearing from Linnea, her offers aren’t quite as grand, but she seems happy enough, oh-ing and ah-ing from time to time, detailing her knowledge of each city and trying to place us there, plan out how it would work.

  Eventually we’ve narrowed the offers down to two teams each.

  Phoenix, having prepared a breakfast of champions for us, slides the plates across. “I went a bit creative with the French toast. Tell me what you think.”

  I take a bite. “Delicious.”

  “Phoenix!” Heather calls from upstairs. “Come back to bed!”

  “That’s my cue,” he smiles, his shirt half off before he’s hit the stairs.

  I look to Linnea. “So, who did you choose?”

  She shuffles between the folders. “Boston’s starting a new team next year. Looking over the roster it sounds pretty promising, and it would be good to start fresh, build it from the ground up.” She moves to the other folder. “The Washington Mystics also have a pretty good offer here, but I don’t know. It’s a hard choice. What about you?”

  I fold up my two folders. “You’re never going to believe this, but, drum roll, the Bruins and the Capitals.”

  “The what? Non-hockey speak, please.”

  “Boston and Washington.”

  She shakes her head in disbelief. “No fucking way. You just made that up.”

  I open the first folder to show her. “Hand on heart, they were the best offers. The Caps are first in the Metro Division, the Bruins holding, so either way it’s looking promising.”

  “We can be together.”

  “Or four-hundred miles apart,” I counter.

  She puts down the folder she was holding, looping her arm around mine and letting her head fall to my shoulder. “We will make it work, husband.”

  I’m still not used to hearing that.

  Linnea senses my surprise. “You good?”

  “Fine.”

  She lifts herself from my shoulder. “What is it? Are you having doubts?”

  “About which team to choose?”

  “About us, silly. About our marriage.”

  “Of course not.”

  “How long do you think it will last, honestly?”

  It’s a
strange question. She lets go of my arm as I turn to face her in full. “You seriously want me to answer that?”

  “Yes.”

  I study her eyes but can’t make out where she is going with this. I want her to be certain, beyond any doubt, I’m in this for the long game. I don’t want there to be any uncertainty.

  I take her face in my hands and smile. “Babe,” I tell her, doing my best to make my tone level and even, “forever. It’s going to last forever.”

  She smiles back. “Sorry, I just…”

  “You don’t have to apologize. I get it. It all happened so fast. Hell, we barely had time to breathe, to process it all, but I’m not sorry we got married. I’ve never been so sure, so positive about a single decision in my whole life, and the thought of spending it with you, even when we’re old and the highlight of our week is bingo night, makes me so happy it hurts.”

  “Bingo night?” she laughs. “Forget that. We’ll be back in bed at the retirement village making sweet, sweet love.”

  “Even when my balls are hanging around my ankles?”

  “I’ll always love your balls, my dear—now and forever.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  LINNEA

  Who needs medieval torture when you’ve got macroeconomics?

  I come out of class ready for my brain to burst. It’s stuffed with more information than it knows how to handle. On top of everything that’s been happening it’s high time for R&R.

  “Linnea.”

  Instinctively, I pull my books to my chest and search to find the source of the voice.

  I don’t have to look far.

  It’s Harry, emerging from the trees.

  Jesus. I thought my father was over these cheap tricks.

  I look to see where his goons are hiding.

  Harry puts his hands up. “I came alone. You have my word on that.”

  “If you’re hanging around with my father, I can’t imagine your word means much at all.”

  Harry approaches me slowly, lowering his hands. Crestfall is used to money, but the air of affluence Harry gives off is on another level. I wouldn’t be surprised if he shits gold bricks.

  “You have your father all wrong, you know,” he continues. “He only wants what’s best for you.”

  We’re in a public space. There are more than enough people around to provide me with a certain sense of security. “My father wants what’s best for my father. It has always been that way.”

  Harry’s lips press upwards. He nods to himself. “All right. To be honest, I’m not eager to marry either.”

  “No!” I exclaim, making the sarcasm clear.

  “Don’t get me wrong, you’re attractive enough in a—” he hunts for the words “—utilitarian way.”

  “Utilitarian? Well, aren’t you Romeo incarnate?”

  He ignores that, holding up a finger for emphasis. “But…we need to do this for our fathers and their businesses. It’s important.”

  “You cannot be serious. I mean, you sat by idly while my father kidnapped me off the street. Honestly, do you really think I’m going for this bullshit you’re rolling out?”

  He’s persistent if nothing else. “You have to look at the bigger picture, Linnea. This extends beyond you and me, beyond our fathers. This is about protecting jobs and employees, everyone involved. Together, our companies could be strong, safeguarded against almost anything the market might throw up, but separate, at war… That’s going to cost people. It might cost lives.”

  He actually smiles at himself for coming up with this, like the teacher’s pet who’s just been called up to the blackboard. “That’s your play, is it?”

  “It is.”

  “Think about it. Think past yourself, Linnea.”

  That does it. I step up to this silver-spooned, gold-plated piece of corporate trash and stab a finger into his chest. “No. You can pass that onto my father.”

  He slides his hands into his pockets. “If you’d just listen to—”

  I’ve been waiting for the final blow.

  I hold up my hand, turn it so he can see the wedding ring. “Take a long, hard look, Harry. I’m already married.”

  The moment the shock hits him is priceless. “But—”

  And so his little Ted Talk is finished. He’s lost for words. “That’s right,” I tell him, confidence building. “I’m married to Nolan King and anything my father wants, whether it be marriage, his daughter back, or maybe to float in French champagne, I will play no part in it. Am I being clear here?”

  Harry just bites his tongue. “Hm,” he replies, stalking off and no doubt seething from the news.

  Good.

  Great, I think.

  Carrie approaches me. “Who’s the suit? Is he single?”

  I watch him storm off quite pleased with myself. “He’s single all right, but I’d stay away if I was you.”

  “I don’t mind if he ties me up and takes me to his red room. A couple of billion in the bank wouldn’t hurt either. Momma needs a new handbag.”

  I have to laugh. “Momma needs to keep clear of guys who only care about one thing.”

  “Sex?”

  “No, idiot, power,” I reply, looking to where Harry is disappearing into the crowd of students emerging from the IT building.

  Carrie follows my gaze. “No, seriously, who was that dude?”

  I start walking, Carrie falling into step beside me. “Son of my one of my father’s competitors. They want a merger, and a marriage, apparently.”

  She looks to my ring, “But you’re…” She rolls her eyes. “Ohhh, now I get it.”

  I give her a look of sympathy. “And here I was wondering why they made you repeat second grade.”

  She elbows me. “Watch it, bitch.”

  I elbow her back. “Save the trash talk for the boards, Luísa Harris.”

  “I consider myself more of a Sue Bird, actually.”

  “Just without the four Olympic golds.”

  Which earns me another elbow. “Watch it, hotshot. You haven’t signed on to a team yet. A little slip ’n’ trip in the locker room and…”

  “Wow,” I laugh. “You really do have a dark side.”

  “Doesn’t everyone? Even Mr. Swoon himself, your BF—sorry— husband.”

  I can’t keep the smile away. “Yes, he is. Taken.”

  Carrie throws her hands up. “Where art thou long lost King brother? Come to Carrie. Feel thy breast.”

  I put my hand over her mouth. “You’re making a scene.”

  “Save my vagina! Deliver me thine multiple orgasms!” she wails when I let my hand go.

  I quickly force it back over her mouth doing my best to contain my laughter. “Who needs enemies when I’ve got a friend like you?”

  *

  Practice is a whole new grade of brutal. I don’t know if Coach is looking to kill us off before we graduate, but she’s sure as hell trying her hardest.

  The locker room’s like a leper’s den—cries of woe and agony reverberating off the walls.

  I’m dreaming about Nolan’s hands working me over, maybe something else a bit more thick and solid coming into play for those hard-to-reach areas fingers can’t access.

  I’m beat myself, leaning against my locker door for support when my cell starts to vibrate.

  I pick it up and swipe the text open.

  Surprise, surprise, it’s from my father.

  I honestly thought putting Harry in his place would be the end of it, that the news would trickle down to my father and he’d finally admit defeat.

  Clearly, I should have known better.

  He doesn’t mince words.

  He rages about revealing my ‘indiscretion’, about how foolish I am, immature, a string of profanity following that would make a sailor blush.

  I delete the text without reading the rest of it. Why should I spend energy on this? He’ll get over it. He has to. It’s done.

  Still, there’s a niggle, an itch I can’t seem to scratch.


  I know this isn’t the end of it.

  But I can pretend.

  I can forget.

  For now.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  NOLAN

  Family brunch is becoming a regular thing at the King Senior household. Dad’s made his way over with Alissa, even Grace making the trek this time. I asked Linnea if she was certain, noting my brothers’ propensity for inappropriateness, but she was adamant it was a good idea.

  The spread before us is expansive, even by my father’s standards. Clearly, he’s out to impress, to welcome Grace to the family…or kill her with food. I’m not sure which.

  It’s not long before the subject turns to Rex. I watch carefully for Grace’s discomfort, but she doesn’t seem perturbed.

  It’s my father who’s pressing for information.

  “Have you heard anything from him?” he goes on, addressing Linnea and me.

  “No, we haven’t,” I answer.

  “We think, after the marriage, there’s nothing to worry about,” continues Linnea. “I’d say it’s the end of any concern.”

  “I wouldn’t be so certain.”

  All eyes turn to Grace, who’s placed down her knife and fork, wiping her mouth with a napkin. She looks to Linnea. “You don’t know him like I do, hon. It might seem like he’s let this drop, but he’s stubborn and ruthless, which is about as dangerous a combination as you can get.”

  “And you married this man?” my father interjects.

  I give him a ‘shut the hell up’ look, but once he’s on a tangent…

  Mercifully, Grace takes it in stride. “Young, and foolish.”

  “Isn’t it young, dumb, and full of—”

  Heather manages to get her hand over Phoenix’s mouth before he gets out the rest.

  Eager to steer the conversation back to calmer waters, I speak up. “I don’t really think there’s anything Rex can do now,” I say, turning my attention to Grace. “But I’ll keep an eye open.” I look around to my brothers. “We all will.”

  “Damn straight,” adds Peyton, his arm around Erin’s shoulder. He eyes Linnea. “You’re a King now. You’re family.”

  Grace smiles but I see the unease behind it. I don’t let it show, but I share her concern. Rex is dangerous—far more dangerous than he appears.

  *