“Snuggling?” she said, opening her eyes. She almost laughed out loud at the sight of the almost-three-hundred-pound defenseman delicately sitting down in the water, talking about snuggling.
“Yep,” he answered. “Sam, get in here. You need snuggling, too.”
“I do?” Sam asked, standing up and pushing his shorts down. Sam was clearly used to doing what King wanted, which made his transformation while they were doing it that much more amazing.
“Yes,” King said firmly. He slid in behind Jane and pulled her back against his slick chest. He was hotter than the water, and felt so good she sighed. He rubbed her shoulders. “See? Snuggling.”
“I do feel a little calmer,” she said, her voice still shaky. “Sluts don’t like to snuggle, do they?”
“Yes,” King said. “Everyone likes to snuggle. And stop saying slut like it’s a bad thing. So what if you enjoy sex? That’s a good thing in my book.”
“I more than enjoyed it,” she explained patiently. “I begged for it. I lost control during it. I was like an addict on sex crack.” Her eyes had drifted shut and they suddenly snapped open. “Oh my God, I’m a sex addict.”
Sam had entered the tub and sat down opposite them, his legs spread wide to accommodate the two of them as water sloshed over the sides. He rubbed his foot along the top of her thigh. “I don’t think three sexual experiences with multiple partners makes you an addict.”
“Maybe I’m like one of those people who get addicted to cocaine the first time they use it,” she said, starting to panic again. “Soon you two won’t be enough. I’ll be doing strangers behind the curtain in the ER.”
“Okay,” King said, pulling her gently back against his chest again. “More snuggling. Sam, rub her feet.”
Sam obligingly picked up her left foot and began to massage it. It felt so good she moaned, and then clapped a hand over her mouth. “I’m not sex moaning,” she said in a muffled voice through her hand.
“Got it,” Sam said. “Not sex moaning. Don’t worry.” He was biting his lip and she could tell he was trying not to laugh.
“You sure went all macho dom in there,” she said accusingly. “You never said you were into that.”
His smile fell. “I didn’t know I was into that,” he said, a worried frown on his face. “But I like it. I can tone it down.”
“Don’t tone down anything,” King said, sounding exasperated. “You two.” He shook his head. “Stop acting like what we did was wrong. We were all into it. We all liked it. We’re all adults.” He leaned to the side and looked her in the eye. “Jane, I don’t think you’re a slut or think any less of you because you enjoyed the things we did. You know what I love? I love when you give in.” He kissed her shoulder. “I can see it, when you give in to the sex, to the pleasure, and you let us do what we want, you even beg us to do it. That is so hot. So don’t stop doing that. That kind of honesty turns me on.” He looked over at Sam. “Sam, I don’t think less of you because of the way you acted or the things we did. When you take control, I lose it. That pushes every button I have, which is weird, because, you know, control freak. But I loved watching you tonight with Jane. There. Do you both feel better?”
“Well, yeah,” she grudgingly admitted. “Actually I do. Sam?”
“Jane, not only do I not think less of you, I think more of you. You were a match for us. That was such a turn-on, to have a woman who wanted what I wanted, who was clearly enjoying the way I was touching her and fucking her. I didn’t feel like I had to hold back with you, you know? I could say anything, do anything, admit what I wanted. It was…liberating.” He nodded with a faraway look in his eyes, absently still massaging her foot. “Yeah,” he said. “Liberating.”
“Really?” she asked. She hated how needy she sounded, but she was seriously feeling in need of reassurance right now. What they had done was so far out of her comfort zone she still had residual freaking.
“Really,” he said firmly, his gaze now focused and directed at her. “I want to keep seeing you. I didn’t ruin it for you, did I? With the dom stuff? I’m kind of feeling my way, here.”
“No,” Jane said, nervous as hell about what she was committing to. “No, you didn’t ruin it. I guess I’m just not as ready as you to be liberated. But I’m trying. Do I get points for trying?”
“Not in the NFL,” King said, snuggling her tighter to his chest and rubbing his cheek on her hair. She could feel her heartbeat slowing down to beat in rhythm with his. “But here, with us, yes. You get all the points.”
“I want some points,” Sam said. “After all, first guy-on-guy action the other night and now the dominant stuff. It may not have been much, but I threw myself into the effort, coach.”
“Points awarded,” Jane said, consciously trying to relax all her muscles. She was wound tighter than a Swiss watch.
“Maybe,” King said, rubbing his hand up and down her arm, “we should slow down a bit.”
“What?” Sam said, sounding alarmed. “What does that mean?”
“Now, shh,” King said soothingly. Jane had tensed up again. Was he dumping her? Them? Would she and Sam be able to make it, just the two of them? Somehow all three had become one in her mind. This is who they were. What would she do if one of them backed out now?
“All I’m saying,” King said in that frustratingly calm voice, “is that we don’t have to do it all right away. The kink factor can stay steady for a while. Right? We can work up to more spanking and a full three-way. As a matter of fact, I think after what just happened, maybe we all need to just sleep tonight. There’s no need to win the Super Bowl before playing the season.”
“Oh, God, I said that, didn’t I?” Jane moaned, closing her eyes as Sam smiled at her. “About the three-way? I’m taping my mouth shut next time we have sex.”
“Hell, no,” Sam said, putting her left foot down and picking up her right. “I love your dirty talk. I went kind of far with it. I can pull back.”
“Don’t you dare,” she surprised herself by saying. “I love the dirty talk. But King is right, just because I love to hear you talk about it, or say shit myself, some of it’s just smack talk. I’m not really ready to go all out, you know what I mean?” She made a face. “I feel like a slut tease now. Ow!” She rubbed the spot King had pinched on her side.
“New rule,” he said, pushing her hand aside and rubbing it for her. “Jane isn’t allowed to call herself a slut after we make mad, passionate, amazing love. And rule two, Sam isn’t allowed to threaten to tone down his dominant side or his dirty talk during our wild sex.”
“Who made you king of anything?” Jane asked. Then she giggled. “Oh, yeah. Right. Sorry.” Suddenly everything felt all right again. King had a way of making that happen.
Chapter 28
“A party?” Jane asked skeptically over breakfast. King had made some kind of chicken, egg, and veggie breakfast burrito that was actually really good. He and Sam had about four apiece. She could barely finish one.
King put down his phone after reading them the text he’d just received. “Yeah. You’ll meet the team. It’s all good.” She tried not to panic.
“You mean, the whole team? Like, I’d go with both of you? And they would all know it? That we were together?” She did some yoga breathing.
“If you don’t want to go, that’s okay,” Sam said, turning away to put some dishes in the dishwasher. He sounded disappointed. Jane didn’t want to disappoint him again. She’d slept between the two of them last night, which had been every girl’s dream of heaven, but she’d bolted out of bed when they both woke up with morning wood. She wasn’t ready to let slutty Jane loose again. She glanced at King, feeling guilty for calling herself that even in her head. He was oblivious.
“Come on,” he said. “It’s Tom Kelly, all-American boy. And Danny Smith. What can go wrong? Nobody’s drinking much because it’s the season. It will just be a bunch of players and WAGS standing around talking football.”
“WAGS?” Jane asked, confused. Was that a
football position?
“Wives and girlfriends,” Sam told her, turning around and leaning against the kitchen counter. “You would officially be a WAG.”
“And how would the other WAGS feel about that?” she asked. “How many of them are dating two of you?” She was actually curious about that. She knew some of the players had already hooked up together with a woman.
“Well, tonight, probably none,” King admitted. “Coaches don’t come, so that leaves Cass and Beau and Marian out, and also Ty, Brian, and Randi. Plus, Randi is a cop and she makes some of the guys nervous.”
“So, just me? The only sl—” She stopped herself when she saw King’s look, and said instead, “The only polyandrous girlfriend there?”
“What does polyandrous mean?” Sam asked.
“Having more than one guy,” Jane said, slumping in her seat.
“They have a name for it?” he asked in wonder. “So it’s not that unusual?”
“Historically speaking, no,” she admitted. “But today? Yes. Usually it happened in societies with more men than women.”
“That fits a football team perfectly,” King said. “So there you go.”
“Nice try,” Jane said drily. “But we all know professional athletes are surrounded by willing women.” She looked back and forth between them, curious about their arrangement. “So why this?” she asked, pointing at the three of them. “You guys could have five women each practically every night. Why just me?”
“It’s not just you,” King said. “It’s us, too.” He shrugged. “A lot of women want more than one of us, like trophies. But they aren’t cool about guys who also want guys. They feel cheated.”
“Seriously?” Jane asked in disbelief. “Have they ever watched you guys together? Because, holy crap, hot.”
“And that’s why only you,” Sam said, grinning. “Like I said last night, with you I don’t feel like I have to apologize for what I want.” He came over and sat down next to her. “I’m sick of feeling sorry about everything. About living when my buddies died, about healing when Carmina didn’t, about playing football when other veterans are struggling, about wanting King when I’m supposed to be this macho athlete who only wants pussy.” He sighed. “Right now, or whenever it’s just us three, I don’t feel like I have to apologize for who I am.”
“Okay,” Jane said. “I’ll go to the party.” How could she say no after Sam told her something like that? She liked being there for him, liked being part of his support system and making him feel good about himself.
“Great,” King said, typing into his phone. He frowned and looked up. “It starts late. Is that okay? Do you have to work tomorrow?”
She shook her head. “No, I’m off today and tomorrow.” She pushed back from the table. “I have to use the bathroom. Do you have any coffee?” She really needed caffeine.
Sam looked chagrined. “No,” he said. “I’m sorry. I don’t do coffee. I try to steer clear of caffeine.”
“You’re a freak,” she said over her shoulder. “I’m going to have to go out and get some soon or I’ll have a killer headache.”
When she walked back into the kitchen a few minutes later she stopped cold. Another woman was standing there with Sam, both of them fussing with a coffeepot. The other woman turned, and her eyes got big when she saw Jane standing there. Jane, who wasn’t wearing anything except Sam’s dress shirt, barely buttoned.
“Hey,” Sam said happily. “I got Carmina to bring up her coffeepot and some coffee. Jane, Carmina. Carmina, Jane.”
King came up behind Jane and wrapped his arms around her, kissing her neck. “Caffeine,” he said, sounding satisfied. “Now you don’t have to leave.” He let go of Jane and walked over to kiss Carmina on the cheek. “Hey,” he said. “Thanks.”
Carmina just stood there staring at Jane. Jane was mortified. Carmina knew. Sam had told her Jane was doing both guys. “Hey,” she said lamely, her face burning with humiliation.
Carmina continued to stare. She was blushing, too. She was gorgeous. Sam had forgotten to mention that. Curvy body, big, brown eyes with long, dark lashes, cute, dark hair curling all around her face. Jane wasn’t sure she wanted her boyfriend’s best friend to look like that. Finally Carmina gave her a little wave. Jane belatedly remembered that Carmina had speech issues. That was probably why she was embarrassed.
“I’m going to go get dressed,” Jane said, pointing vaguely down the hallway. “Because I feel like an idiot standing here in Sam’s shirt. Also, slightly trampy.” She waved off King’s protest. “Be quiet,” she said with a smile. “You know it’s true.” She pointed at Carmina. “Don’t leave. I get a do-over. I’ll be right back.” She dashed back to the bedroom and threw on her clothes. Thank God King had picked them up off the floor last night and hung them up in Sam’s closet. They weren’t fresh as a daisy, but they were better than the alternative. She searched her purse for a brush and said a silent thanks when she found one buried in the bottom. She pulled her hair into a ponytail and surveyed the damage. No visible hickeys. She looked like an average woman who might be on a trip to the mall, or planning to go grocery shopping. It would have to suffice. She dashed back to the kitchen.
When she entered she saw Carmina adamantly shaking her head while both Sam and King tried to cajole her. “Come on,” Sam said. “Please. You’ll have fun. I swear.”
“He’s right,” King told her. “You need to get out more and you will have fun. They’re just regular guys. You can play Call of Duty and eat chips and drink beer.”
“I hope that’s all we’ll be doing. Tom and Danny have gone a little crazy on the club scene lately. But this party should be pretty tame. No chips and no beer,” Sam said. “I mean, they probably won’t have chips. Not during the season. Or beer. But cheese and crackers, maybe? And soda? You shouldn’t have beer on your meds, anyway.”
“Are you guys trying to bully her into going to this party?” Jane said from the doorway, hands on her hips.
“Yes,” Sam said, putting his hands on his hips, too. “She stays holed up in that apartment every day and night. She needs to get out and meet people. And this way, I’ll be there, too, so she won’t feel so awkward.” Carmina made a face that required no words. “You know what I mean,” Sam said. “Besides, it’s right here in the apartment building, so if you really hate it you can leave, no problem. Tell her, Jane.” He pointed at her. “Jane’s going. Aren’t you?”
“I am,” Jane said with a resigned sigh. “If I have to go, you have to go. After all, I’m pretty sure most of the WAGS—you know what that means, right?” At Carmina’s nod, she continued. “I don’t think any of them will talk to me, despite what these two think. I’m dating two players. That makes me a slut in most people’s eyes.” She barreled ahead despite King’s glare. “But not to me, or you two, King, so you don’t have to yell at me,” she said without taking a breath. “But to most women, it does. Trust me. Back me up, here, Carmina.”
Carmina shook her head. “Not me,” she said firmly.
Jane smiled. “Thanks. But other than the four exceptionally enlightened people in this kitchen?” Carmina reluctantly nodded. “See?” Jane said to King. He frowned, looking very ferocious.
“I dare any of them to say anything to you,” he growled.
“I don’t think that will be a problem,” Jane said. Suddenly the idea of Carmina going with them sounded really, really good. “Please?” she begged, her hands in praying position as she made puppy-dog eyes at Carmina. “I need a girlfriend there.”
Carmina looked between the three of them, biting her lip. “Okay,” she said at last, looking like a martyr. “But…you…stay…close.” She took a deep breath after she said it, and Sam looked so proud that Jane guessed it was a lot of talking for her.
“That’s exactly what I was going to tell you,” Jane said. “I promise I will, if you do.”
“Great,” King said with gusto, rubbing his hands together. “Party tonight. Today, we hang out.” He opened t
he refrigerator. “We’ve got to order some food, brah. I’m starving.”
“We just ate,” Jane exclaimed. Sam and Carmina laughed.
“Welcome to life with football players,” Sam told her. “Thank goodness the grocery store delivers.”
Chapter 29
Sam walked into Tom and Danny’s apartment with a feeling of disbelief. This was not a boring party with hors d’oeuvres for players and significant others. This was a frat-boy blowout.
“I thought you said it would just be a few people,” Jane said over the loud country music blaring out of the apartment as soon as the door was opened by some shirtless twink with a beer in hand.
“You must be more Rebels. Come on in,” the guy said with a big smile. “The more the merrier!” He swung the door wide. “Tom made me official greeter.” He winked. “He said I was the cutest.”
King was laughing as he grabbed both Sam and Jane by the arm. “Come on,” he said. Sam turned quickly and grabbed Carmina before she had time to escape.
“Come on,” he said to her, trying to dispel the terrified look in her eyes. “At least no one’s going to want to have a long conversation in this noise.” She let him pull her in.
The apartment was packed. There had to be a hundred people in the den and kitchen. The dining room had a pool table, and there was a game going in there. The source of the music seemed to be another shirtless dude with a backward snapback on in the corner of the dining room, with the speakers connected to his cell. To Sam’s surprise, Melody Ann Merriot, the Rebels PR girl, skipped up to the wannabe DJ, and the kiss they shared was definitely more than friendly. Melody Ann was also shirtless, wearing nothing but a cute little polka-dot bra, a tiny little skirt, and black, thigh-high tights with Doc Martens. She was front office, but she dressed like a cross between a Japanese schoolgirl and that chick from NCIS. The DJ leaned down and gave her a kiss on the exposed part of her boob, and she laughed. Mal Goodman was standing beside the DJ and he couldn’t take his eyes off Melody Ann.
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