Commander in Briefs

by Kristy Marie

  “You good?” Anniston asks.

  “Yeah. I’m good,” I tell her confidently.

  “Good. Get the fuck in the car.” Theo shoves past me with a growl.

  Anniston rolls her eyes and turns back to me. She wiggles her eyebrows, which makes her look silly, and I laugh. “Let’s do this shit, Gorgeous. You’re on my team.”

  Ah. That’s why Theo is pissed.

  Anniston tells me our channel and turns on my mic inside the helmet. It’s weird but really cool. Once in the driver’s seats, Wes checks all of our belts, ensuring we are properly strapped in, and then steps off the tarmac.

  “When the light turns green, go,” comes through my mic. “Whoever crosses the finish line first after ten laps is the winner.”

  I look over at Anniston in her car. Her eyes are facing forward. She is in this. She is totally going to kick Theo’s ass.

  I focus on the stoplight in front me. When it signals green, I floor it. And my engine completely chokes and dies.

  “Double-clutch it, Cade,” Anniston barks in my ear. “Now!”

  I start up the engine again with Wes’ help and try to remember what the fuck she means by double-clutching. Eventually, it comes back to me but not before Theo zips past me, Anniston trailing him by an inch. Thad races past me, attempting to catch them.

  Picking my balls and confidence up off the ground, I drive the fucking car like I stole it. The wind ripping through the window is like freedom. I won’t ever catch Theo and Commander, or Thad for that matter, but this moment of blasting down the track faster than I could imagine feels like everything. Everything that I fucking wanted. Everything that I missed. Everything that I’m not. And everything that I am. In this moment, I feel free.

  “Block him, Cade!” Anniston is shouting into my headset.

  I look over my shoulder and see Theo gaining on me.

  “Block him. Do not let him pass you!”

  I glide over and obstruct his way as he swerves to the right. I swerve in front of him, never giving him the chance to pass. He’s pissed, banging on his steering wheel, hurling obscenities at me through the windshield.

  A big fucking smile graces my face as I give him a pageant wave. He fucking loses it. Guns his car and goes into a tailspin, slinging himself off the tarmac before recovering and getting back on the track.

  “I’m behind you, Cade. Keep Theo busy and I’m going to pass you on the left. This is the last lap.”

  “Ten-four, Commander.”

  I swoop in front of Theo, brake-checking him a couple of times. His driving has become erratic. It’s fun fucking with people who are sore losers.

  Anniston slips past me on the left, Thad hot on her heels. Theo sees her, too, and I can practically hear him roar as he yanks the wheel hard and floors it, maneuvering around me like a pro. Fuck. Can’t he suck at something?

  I floor mine, too, even though I have no chance of winning. But the thought of Theo’s face as Anniston crosses the finish line is enough to keep me pressing the gas, just to see him throw down.

  Closing in on Thad, I see Theo and Anniston neck to neck approaching the finish line.

  “Oohrah, Commander!” I yell into the mic, my excitement getting the better of me. Fuck. Where did that come from?

  Anniston returns my “oohrah” as she crosses the finish line a hair in front of Theo.

  “Suck it, Von Bremen!” she hollers from her window as she coasts to a stop.

  Theo slams down on his brake and spins his car to a halt, the dust swirling around us like a tornado.

  Anniston is doubled over in fits of laughter.

  Theo looks fucking pissed. He marches her way, hurling his helmet across the raceway with brute force, looking like he’s capable of bodily harm. His behavior makes me uncomfortable. I’m struggling to get out of my car, intending to intervene, when a hand closes over the door.

  “Come on, let’s go change and get a drink.” I look up at Thad, who is crowding my exit. He shakes his head. “You don’t want to see this.”

  I frown at him, confused. I don’t want to see what? What the fuck is about to happen? I look over to Anniston frantically. Theo makes it to her door, throws it open and grabs her by the arms, hauling her out of the car. She’s still laughing, no fear showing on her face.

  “Let me out,” I tell Thad, shoving at the door. He holds firm.

  “He’s not going to hurt her. Trust me.” His voice sounds ragged.

  I glance back at Anniston, who is now taunting Theo as he slams her on the hood of the car. I shove at the door again.

  “Move,” I demand.

  He doesn’t, just glances over at Commander, and my eyes follow.

  Anniston is ribbing Theo, “You drive like a granny,” while, piece by piece, he rips every article of clothing off of her body like a fucking animal.

  Oh. This is what I don’t want to see.

  I look at Thad, who is mesmerized by the couple about to fuck each other’s brains out on the hood of the car.

  “I’m ready to get changed,” I say, grabbing Thad’s attention.

  He nods his head in agreement and we make our way toward the garage, but not before I hear, “Aww, Theo, don’t be a bab—ahh,” followed by a growl and the sound of a body slamming on the hood.

  Thad and I pick up our pace, taking refuge in the garage. Where the air isn’t filled with sounds of the girl we love getting fucked by the guy we hate.

  Damn Anniston and her gloating. She’d already pissed me off by choosing Cade for her teammate.

  “You’ll be fine. Don’t be a crybaby,” she said.

  A crybaby? Ha! I am not a crybaby. I just didn’t want Thad’s slow ass on my fucking team.

  And how dare she tell Cade to block me. That sort of dirty play deserves punishment. It got me completely hard watching her blonde tresses whip around her shoulders like angry tentacles so that it is exactly what she is going to get. Punishment.

  Driving that car with precision and skill thickened my cock within the first ten seconds of racing. When she threw it in gear and gunned that last quarter mile?

  Had. Me. Rock. Hard.

  Her gloating? Yeah, that sealed the fucking deal. I’m going to fuck that victory dance out of her right here on the hood of her car. Let Cade and Thad get their fill. Fuckers.

  I see them eyeing her. I see their disguised looks, their overeagerness to help her with anything. Well, not today boys.

  This is what Dr. McCallister likes: dirty, filthy, rough, and violent victories. And I aim to please. Watch and learn, gentlemen.

  I smash her body against the hood. She’s smirking at me, taunting me. My anger and jealousy simmer under the surface, waiting for the green light.

  “Do it, Teddy,” she goads, trailing her finger over the lace lining her breasts.

  Deep breath, Theo. Do not allow her the upper hand.

  Her hands continue to move across the lace, caressing each junction of fabric. She moves one hand slowly down the ridges of her toned stomach toward her heat.

  Fuck.

  I’m losing control. She knows it, too, because my eyes follow that hand farther down of their own accord. Her fingers dance inside the black scrap of fabric until her eyes close. A breathy moan starts deep in her throat, climbing until she gasps it out in the air between us.

  She’s about to come already. I know that face. And as she furiously moves her fingers under those panties, I realize she will alleviate this ache with or without me.

  Jumping into motion, I snatch her hand and flip her onto her stomach, the force of her impact making a loud thud. “Did I fucking tell you that you could do that?”

  She turns her head, goading me some more. “I figured you’d forgotten how. I was just guiding you.”

  That mouth. That fucking mouth makes me want to do dangerous things.

  Restraining her hands behind her back like she’s some kind of criminal, I yank her panties down, her body slick with sweat, catching the fabric at her thighs. A har
d tug, and I free them enough to get them to her knees.

  Hastily, I unzip my jumpsuit and free my hardened cock. It springs to life, eager to get this show on the road. I force myself between Anniston’s legs, spreading her wide across the hood.

  Grazing my finger over her soaked slit, I whisper, “Scream when you can’t take any more.”

  Her tongue sweeps across her smiling lips, accentuating the triumphant gleam in her eyes. With a firm squeeze, she traps me between her legs and whispers, “No.”

  Adrenaline spikes as she challenges me for control. I fucking revel in the sickness of this game we play.

  “I’m going to be rough with you, Anniston. I’m not going to stop until you’re hoarse, begging for mercy. But there will be none, not for you. You’re mine, and when you’re limping back to the car, Cade and Thad will know it, too.”

  “You, promise?”

  I yank her up by the wrists, forcing her face-first into the hood. I don’t need to check if she’s ready for me. I can still feel the wetness she left on my stomach as she squeezed me to her, holding me captive. Anniston’s chest heaves against the cool metal, her anticipation growing evident in her ragged breaths.

  “You want me to fuck you, Ans? You want to feel what you do to me?”

  Switching to one hand, I keep her pinned, weaving my hands through her thick, sweaty tresses.

  She laughs.

  She fucking laughs at me.

  “I wish you would and shut up and fuck me with some urgency.”

  My adrenaline peeks, my body humming in pure, unfiltered desire. A ferocious growl erupts from my chest as I snatch her head back and plunge into her tight, wet pussy. I fuck her violently, pounding those hips ruthlessly against the unforgiving metal. Over and over, I pound scream after scream from her throat, her voice quivering with the need for release.

  “How bout now, beautiful? How’s that silence treating you?”

  She grunts, grinding against me, chasing her high. I’m a bastard, holding her tight, keeping her from reaching that coveted spot she desperately craves.

  Another tug of hair. “Tell me. Tell me, what I want to hear!”

  “Please. Please, Theo.”

  Without further bullshit, I pound us into oblivion, giving in to our unbridled needs. Deep then shallow, my strokes become wild and chaotic, fucking us into a frenzy of madness until finally we can’t stand anymore. Her walls contract, choking me as she milks the very essence from my soul.

  A screeching sound blares throughout the room, jolting me from a deep sleep. Hell yeah. I managed to actually sleep in Suck-Ass-Washington. Granted, it’s because I’m with Ans.

  Now, as I roll over, reaching for her side of the bed, I realize she’s already up. The clock says it’s seven. She’s probably been up a couple of hours.

  Scrubbing a hand down my face, clearing the sleep from my eyes, I yank the plug from the wall, because, well… I’m an asshole and can’t be bothered with finding the off button to shut up the annoying music, screaming about “shaking it off.” Couldn’t she use her phone like a normal person?

  Enjoying the feeling of a restful night’s sleep, I stretch out, covering the entire bed. Pans bang in the kitchen, interrupting my peace, probably Thad ass-kissing Ans by making her breakfast. Douche. She hardly eats breakfast. She’s a shake kind of girl.

  I have to be at the field to train today at nine. Ugh. At least Ans is going with me. Some days it’s almost unbearable, I want to quit so bad. Thad says it’s not time, that I need to grow my investments more to ensure I will be financially sound should I not work for a while.

  At this point, I don’t give a fuck. I just want to go back home to Georgia. The traveling, the hotel rooms, the practice, the coaches up my ass, the nutritionist in my face about a damn cookie can all go fuck themselves. I don’t want this life anymore.

  It sounded cool in college, anything to not go work for my father, but now… now I want something else. And that something fell asleep drooling on my arm last night.

  Realizing I need to get up and motivated, I stretch one last time then dig my toes in the plush carpet. I probably should put some clothes on since I have guests but, nah, it’s my house. I’m the king of this fucking castle.

  I stroll into the kitchen clad only in my boxers and frown. Thad is making a fucking mess in my kitchen. “What the fuck dude? You are cleaning all this shit up.”

  He spears me with a glare. “You’re welcome.”

  What? I’m welcome? Why am I thankful?

  “I made you breakfast, douche. Anniston and Cade went for a run and decided they would stop by that smoothie place she likes for breakfast. She said she would meet you at the field.”

  No, she didn’t.

  “Our smoothie place?” I clarify with a cough.

  He gives me a curt nod.

  I feel my blood pressure rising. You know when the tingling starts in your hands and moves to your chest? Your head becomes cloudy and then you either pass out or run. Yeah. That’s where I’m at. I shake out my hands and will myself to breathe.

  She took Cade to our spot. Fuck me.

  Cade is fucking dead.

  Thad looks at me with pity in his eyes.

  “Don’t fucking look at me like that!” I snap bitterly. I don’t want his damn pity. Cade is not a threat.

  Thad sets two plates down at the bar. Eggs. A tad bit of guilt creeps in. “Let’s eat. I’ll give you a ride.”

  Yep. It’s guilt I’m feeling. Raking a frustrated hand through my hair, I say, “I’m sorry.”

  He gives me a chin lift in acceptance. He’s a better man than me. In his place, I would have taken the opportunity to rub my face in my apology or pointed out that another dude was moving in on my girl. But he doesn’t. Instead, he plays the dutiful brother by making me a consolation breakfast.

  We eat in silence. His cooking is actually decent, but I push the food around on my plate, caught up in my own self-pity.

  “Hurry up,” he says, rising. “You can’t be late again.”

  I push away from the table and toss my plate in the sink. It shatters against the stainless steel, but I don’t care.

  Thad sighs, and I stomp to my room to change in anticipation of this nightmare of a day.

  “Hey, Von Bremen. Did Anniston finally grow a brain and dump your sorry ass?”

  Drew Michaels is shit-starting this morning. I’m not in the mood. I continue to dress, slinging everything I can in my locker with force.

  Anniston showed up a few minutes ago looking fresh-faced and gorgeous in her little spandex shorts that barely cover her ass. Needless to say, everyone takes notice when she is here.

  “Yeah, I saw her with that big dude. Did he scare you off, pretty boy?” Freeman echoes the taunts being thrown my way.

  I take a couple of deep breaths, reigning in my fury. They’re just trying to get a rise out of you. Ignore them.

  “Shake it off, dude. Neither of them can get any pussy,” Brody whispers. He squeezes my shoulder. It helps but doesn’t ease my tension.

  “Lady in the house!”

  Speak of the fucking devil.

  “Oh, come on Lewis! Gimme a break. You don’t need two hands to cover your package. I’ve seen that itty-bitty thing.” Anniston struts into the locker room like she owns this motherfucker.

  The guys howl in laughter right before she locks eyes with me and winks, Cade trailing behind her like the good little lap dog he is. Her black shorts flex with her muscles as she wades through the mass of guys, hurling insults as she goes.

  She swats Brody’s ass when she reaches us. “How’s it hanging, bro?”

  He chuckles and shakes his head. “It’s hanging nicely, Dr. McCallister. Good to have you back.”

  He hugs her awkwardly and makes an excuse to leave. Yeah. He fucking knows better.

  “Ans,” I drawl. “So glad you could finally join me.”

  She smirks, catching onto my pettiness. “And here I thought you didn’t miss me.”
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  I leer and grab my hat from the bench. “Come on,” and tug her through the crowd of teammates, toward the exit. In hindsight, we should have let Cade go first; the crowd gives him a wide berth.

  “Hey, McCallister!”

  Dammit. We were almost out.

  “How bout you let me take you out tonight?”

  Anniston turns and addresses Michaels, who currently has a death wish.

  Unlocking our fingers, Anniston gives me a smile. Oh, shit. Good luck, Michaels. She saunters toward him, her hips swaying to a silent beat.

  Michaels licks his lips while palming his dick. “Yeah, sweetheart. Lemme show you a good time.”

  Cade moves forward with a low growl. “Just wait,” I encourage, touching his shoulder.

  He gives me a curt nod and takes his glare back to Michaels.

  “Aww… How cute,” she says in a singsong voice. She brushes Michaels’ hair off his forehead and leans in close, suddenly grabbing his balls in a tight grip.

  Michaels makes a squeaking noise just as his knees buckle.

  “But I have to admit, Drew, I don’t fuck anyone with OBP lower than 400.”

  Her grip tightens on his balls and he sinks lower to the ground.

  “And if you so much as insult me again I will make sure that you taste spunk for a solid week.”

  Another squeeze.

  In a squeaky voice, Michaels apologizes and agrees to be on his best behavior before Anniston gives him a shove into his buddies.

  She flips her hair with a devilish smile and mutters, “Pussy,” as she struts back to me.

  “Come on, Von Bremen. It’s your turn.”

  “You’re releasing too late!”

  “No, I’m not!” I shout back, wiping the sweat from my brow. I’m tired and short-tempered, snapping at anyone who dares offer me advice. This shit sucks. I was ready to leave an hour ago.

  Anniston is perched behind Brody, my catcher for today, critiquing my curveball, which subsequently is too far outside. I think it’s a finger adjustment. She thinks it’s a timing issue. One of us is wrong and I am pretty certain it’s her.