by Britney Bell
Perfect Form
Texas Tornados, Novella One
Britney Bell
Contents
Connect With Britney Bell
1. Tyler
2. Jordan
3. Tyler
4. Jordan
5. Tyler
6. Jordan
7. Tyler
8. Jordan
9. Tyler
10. Jordan
11. Tyler
12. Jordan
13. Tyler
14. Jordan
15. Tyler
16. Jordan
17. Tyler
18. Jordan
19. Tyler
20. Jordan
Epilogue
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About Britney Bell
Acknowledgments
To my quarterback husband and our two quarterback sons.
Thank you for all of your support!
I love you!!!
PERFECT FORM Copyright © 2019 by Britney Bell
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions or locales is completely coincidental.
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1
Tyler
It’s mid-November, and to most people this means the holidays are approaching with time for families to gather, sit around drinking beer and watch football. However, for me, I’m the one they are watching. As the starting quarterback for the Texas Tornados, Dallas’s professional football team, this time of year is the heat of the season, and we only have one more regular season game. If we win, we are in the playoffs.
My life has been a constant revolving door of football seasons. The pattern has been in my life for as long as I can remember; regular season games, playoff games, championship games, spring football, summer training. All those repeat in full cycle the next year.
With my dad playing quarterback in the professional league while I was growing up, and as the only son out of three children, it was always expected that I would follow in his footsteps. I was never given a chance, or choice, for it to be otherwise.
Sometimes I feel like a thoroughbred racehorse from the elite pedigree for the next owner to race and win money off of. Quarterbacks are a select few at this level, and what’s the difference between the owner of a horse and the owner of a professional football team? They both have huge gambles on their teams winning or losing.
Five years in this league, and I still have to give myself a pep talk to get out of bed each morning after a hard-fought game. Currently, my mind is doing just that and trying to tell my body that it can endure more pain. However, my muscles are pissed and telling my mind to fuck off.
Last night the opposing team’s defense ended up with more sacks in that game than this whole season combined, which equals my ass getting knocked to the ground way too many times. The mornings after a game we always meet for a light warmup to work out the soreness that has set in our bodies from the night before. Plus, we also review the film, to let us know what improvements we need to work on the following week in practice. I know once we get through the warmup and film, I’ll be able to make it over to the massage tables to get the rest of this tightness worked out.
Finally, my mind wins the battle, and I roll out of bed to get dressed. It’s slow moving, and ibuprofen is the first thing that goes into my mouth. Grabbing a cup of coffee, I head out to the stadium.
Warmup workout is still tough, even with the pain reliever, but I push through and am careful not to reveal my pain to the team. By definition, the quarterback is the leader of the team, and I have a huge impact on the team’s attitude and perseverance. I have to be the strong leader that these guys need. The one who carries this team with a calm force, and is able to handle any pressure that comes my way.
Film takes longer than usual; the offensive line needs some obvious adjusting. If we don’t dedicate the time, it is highly possible I will keep getting killed in these final games of the season.
After we’re finished I’m out the door and down the hall, straight to the training room’s massage table.
I’ve been with the Texas Tornados for five years, and I’ve only ever seen men masseuses hired. There are probably several reasons for that. Starting with the anatomy of a man versus a woman, men are naturally stronger than women, therefore making them more effective with working out our soreness. Also, think about it, if we had women here, and the guys were given the choice to choose whether to be rubbed down by a male or female, which do you think the majority would choose? I’m certain the line to get on the ladies’ tables would be out the door and down the hall causing the wait times to be even worse than they are now.
Matt, the massage therapist, has been here all five of those years, and he knows exactly how to work my muscles.
“Hey, Matt. How’ve you been?” I greet him as I climb up on his table.
“I’m great, Tyler. Where is your sorest area? We’ll start there.”
“It’s this left side. All night I got laid out by that defensive end who kept blitzing.”
“Yeah, it sure looked like the O-Line was having a hard time keeping track of him.”
I roll onto my stomach, and Matt works his painful, yet magically healing wonders. He finishes, and sets the timer for me to rest and let my body set before I get up.
Sleep must have hit me hard because the next thing I know he’s waking me up, and kicking me off his table. Dazed and confused, I stumble off and right myself to go get dressed.
There are only a couple of the guys still in the dressing room when I walk in.
“Hey, bro,” Drew calls out and walks over to me as I take a seat at my locker. “You coming to Mickey’s with us tonight?”
Drew Elliott, is a veteran wide receiver, and his cocky attitude lets everyone know that he’s been around the league a while. He also has a tag-a-long rookie, Reed Anderson.
This is Reed’s first year playing in the pros, but that kid makes friends fast, he’s fun to hang out with and always keeps us laughing. He’s a confident wide-receiver on the field, and has the skills to back it up. That will serve him well for his future in this league.
Drew and I first met just after he was traded from Seattle to Dallas, about four years ago. He came in with an eagerness to connect with me on the field, and since I was a rookie, I truly respected that friendship. Being a veteran in the league, he understands that the connection between receiver and quarterback off the field makes their strength on the field that much more powerful and deadly to the opposing team.
Reed also sees that mentorship in Drew and has hardly left his side since the first day he arrived at camp. He’ll grow up fast and learn lots on the field and off the field hanging out with me and Drew. Hopefully, we won’t corrupt his young little mind too bad.
“
Yeah, sure. That sounds like a good plan. I’ll meet you guys there later,” I answer, as I pack my bag to leave.
I don’t have anything else going on, so at least, this will get me out of the house. Having cameras in my face all the time gets very tiresome, and it’s hard to go many places without being recognized.
It wasn’t this bad during my college football years, but from the moment I won the starting position of quarterback, here in Dallas, the media frenzy has not stopped. You can only imagine how crazy the dating life is. Well, it’s almost nonexistent. Finding genuine women who are interested in Tyler Beckett just the average guy versus Tyler Beckett Texas Tornados’ quarterback is next to impossible.
My parents were lucky, they are high school sweethearts. My dad never had this challenge. Yet, my mom and sisters are constantly asking who I am dating, and are ready for me to settle down with a wife and babies. They harp on about me growing old by myself, and having no one to take care of me.
Resting and getting laundry done for the week makes the remainder of the day go by fast. Yes, I could hire out my laundry to be done, but doing it myself keeps me grounded. There’s nothing better than washing your smelly clothes to remind you that you are just a man like everyone else.
Mickey’s is a small pub that’s walking distance of the stadium, tucked away within a group of buildings, and it’s the team’s hideaway. If you’re driving by, you probably can’t see it. There’s no street parking, and you have to walk a couple of steps down to the entrance of the basement pub.
Most of the time there’s only team members, staff, and a few other regulars. It’s nice to go somewhere and be able to hang out with friends without the media vultures in your face.
When I arrive at Mickey’s, I walk into the dimly lit room and give my eyes a quick second to adjust. We’ve all learned to pause before crossing the threshold because there is a step down just inside the door, and the bar is slightly off to the left. You can easily trip on that step and face plant on the floor. It’s fucking hilarious to see people do it. Okay, maybe it’s not funny to the person smashing his face, but it is to the bystanders.
I glance over to the right and see Drew and Reed sitting at our favorite table in the middle of the room. It’s got the best view of all the tv’s hanging around the walls. Mickey’s truly is a great man cave where we can watch five different sports channels at one time, and we have an unlimited supply of alcohol delivered straight to us without ever having to leave our seat.
As I approach, Drew stands to greet me with a half-hug and back slap.
“Hey, guys. Have you been here long?” I ask.
“Na, we just got here and were about to order our drinks,” Reed says as the waitress walks up to us. His eyes instantly shift and focus on the pretty brunette wearing a tight black t-shirt with Mickey’s across the chest.
She gives him a slight smile and nods her head a little, turning to me as she ask, “Hi, Tyler. What can I get you guys to start off with tonight?”
“Hey, Peyton. I’ll take a Bud Light in the bottle and an order of cheese sticks, please.”
Peyton is the bartender and daughter of the owner at Mickey’s Pub. She is part of the reason we are able to relax and be comfortable here. One time a reporter tried to sneak in, and Peyton pulled down the shotgun that is displayed on the wall behind the bar, and shot straight at him. He turned and hightailed it out of there so fast, and we haven’t had any others try to come in since.
I guess the word spread about the hot shot behind the bar. Little do they know there’s only blanks in that shotgun, but this is Texas after all, and one would never know.
“You and your damn cheese sticks,” Drew comments right after Peyton walks off. “You’re going to turn into a fucking cheese stick. You order them every time we are here.”
“Well, they are the Famous Mickey’s Cheese Sticks. Says it right here on the menu.” I grab the menu from the middle of the table, open it, hold it up to his face, and point to those exact large bolded black printed words on the first page.
“Yeah, they’re good, but I don’t know about Famous,” Drew shoots back.
Reed’s chair scoots back, and the noise brings mine and Drew’s attention around to him.
“Dude, stop knocking the food here, Drew. It’s obviously not that bad, or you wouldn’t be shoveling it in your mouth just about every night,” Reed says as he stands and turns to walk off in the direction of the restrooms passed the bar.
I stare at him confused. Why is he upset? That’s not normally like him. Reed is the fun loving guy who everyone wants to be around, but Drew’s comment put him on edge.
One of the responsibilities of being quarterback is making sure the morale of the team is high, along with mediating to keep the peace between everyone.
Reed’s gruff departure doesn’t even phase Drew. He goes right into telling me about his hook up last night, and in Drew’s true fashion, sparring no detail.
“I bent her over the back of my red Audi R8, hiked up her skirt, and…” he continues, but I lose interest, and I think about Reed again.
He’s standing at the bar talking to Peyton, but there is another girl standing next to him. She shifts a little to the side, and the movement of her ass catches my eye. Damn, that ass is perfection. I chance a look at the rest of her, but her back side is the only thing in my view.
Those long lean legs would fit wrapped around my waist as I hold her up against the wall and slam my cock into her. The mental picture has my cock swelling.
Roaming my eyes back up to her wavy blonde hair that rests on her shoulders, I’m hoping she will turn around, and give me a view of the full package.
I watch her for a little while interact with Reed, and he has both the mystery woman and Peyton laughing about something to do with his blonde messy hair. He’s one of those guys who can get away with waking up, only running his fingers through his hair, and it looks like a professional stylist fixed it. Drew and I both have brown hair and brown eyes, but we all three have the same build, being over six feet tall. Still, Reed is the best wingman of our group, the girls seem to like his blonde hair and blue eyes.
He has such a way with people, and could be locked into a relationship easy. The woman he chooses will be a lucky one because he would treat her like a queen. That’s just the type of guy he is, loyal and committed.
Could I be that guy? Is it possible that I would ever care about someone so much, that they become my complete world, or would my career overshadow that relationship? My parents made it work, but my mom understood what dedication and sacrifice it took for my dad to have a job like this. They would go weeks without hardly seeing each other during the regular season. I see other guys with new relationships really struggle, and if they do get married the divorce rate is high. Damn, I bet it would be nice to come home to a warm body. Sex would be readily available. I’d never have to pick up random chicks, and have to worry about the ramifications of what could happen.
Peyton hands mystery woman the take out bag, and she is just about to turn to walk out. At the same time Drew hits me on the shoulder, making me jump and give him my full attention again.
“Tyler!” he yells.
“What the fuck, Drew?” I yell back at him, and turn to see what in the hell could possibly be so important.
“Dude, look at the tv. Seattle’s best defensive player just got suspended for the rest of the season. Something about the results of his drug test.”
That’s great news for us, since we will be playing Seattle Sunday. However, it really doesn’t matter and could have waited. Seattle’s got a deep line up, and they will move the next man up to fill that position.
Quickly glancing back to the bar, but just as I thought, she’s gone.
2
Jordan
My equipment is ready to load up for my next appointment. Opening the trunk to my Jeep, I’m hit with a strong smell of spearmint. One of the massage oil bottles leaked through the box, soaking into the Jeep’
s carpet, about two weeks ago, and the smell is still crazy. I guess it could be worse. It could be lavender, which would remind me of my great-grandmother’s bathroom every time I got in my Jeep.
Yeah, spearmint’s not so bad. At least I will never have to buy air fresheners for the car again.
Obviously, being a traveling massage therapist has its downfalls, but I love my job and owning my own business. The flexible schedule is the best perk of all. I get to sleep in and start my day later than most, which is good. I am not an early bird.
The Briggs’ mansion is my last appointment stop for the evening. Suzy is the wife of the head football coach to the Texas Tornados, Jeff Briggs. I’ve been coming to this mansion weekly since the very beginning of my mobile service business.
Suzy and her friend were regular clients at a spa where I used to work, and when I told her that I was leaving and branching out on my own, she insisted that I take her on as a client.
She’s the team mom to the football players, and all the coaches’ and players’ wives respect her. I can see why they all look up to her. She’s a gorgeous, tall, slender woman who is always well put together and commands any room that she walks into.
Sometimes, to bring all the ladies together, Suzy will invite them over to have mini spa days. She’ll bring in an esthetician for facials and a nail tech for manis and pedis. The ladies rotate services as they sip wine and have a fun time. Those are fun days, and I leave wiped out but with the gratification that I helped them all relax.