Third and Long: A Sports Romance

Home > Other > Third and Long: A Sports Romance > Page 11
Third and Long: A Sports Romance Page 11

by Caitlyn Maxwell


  He starts to unzip my pants, giving me a small reprieve from the incredibly excitement of his touch.

  “Tamber,” he growls with the fierceness of a lion.

  My pants slip down my waist easily. He has me pinned against the wall in my panties.

  “I know you don’t want to have sex,” he says. “But how about I make you come with my hand?”

  It’s a request I can’t refuse, and I don’t want to. I nod and his mouth goes to my neck, kissing me. He kisses me from my ear to my breasts. My knees are weak. I feel like collapsing.

  He pulls my panties down, and I realize this is for real. He’s going to play with me. When he kisses me hard on the lips again, his fingers work their way around my sex. He feels my wetness, finding my excitement. My moans are muffled by his mouth. Logan explores me, finds my clit and massages it gently. I moan again, and again I’m muffled by his powerful kiss.

  My body feels hot. I want so much more. Finally he stops kissing me, so I can speak.

  “Is that good?” he asks.

  “Oh god Logan, you’re going to make me—”

  I’m hypnotized by his touch. Even here at my most vulnerable, he makes me feel safe in a way I have never felt. Then like a typical boy, he has to ruin it by talking.

  “So much for that promise,” he murmurs as he teases my clit.

  Instantly, I push him away. He lets me slump back against the wall of the shed.

  “Geez Tamber something I said?” he asks looking hurt that I’d reject him.

  “Yeah, everything,” I mutter, pulling up panties and pants. I’m two seconds away from giving it all up to him—again might I add—and he ruins it. Just keep your fucking mouth shut, I think to myself. My phone buzzes in my pants. As much as I want to answer it, knowing that it has to be Gwen, I figure it would be inappropriate. I suppose I owe Logan some kind of explanation.

  Respectfully, Logan takes a few steps away from me and gives me a moment to come down from the high. He was right about to send me into fucking orbit. That man has some talented hands. No wonder he’s a quarterback.

  “Care to help me out here?” he asks.

  “Do I care to tell my fake fiancé something that I’ve never told anyone?” I ask.

  “We don’t have to be fake anymore,” he says with that dopey grin of his.

  I give him the frown to end all frowns, and he gets the hint. Now it’s my turn to go over to the door and stare back at the mansion. Lot of deep thoughts happen in a place that smells like literal horse shit. Surefire, Daisy, and the other horses are making a lot of noise. Maybe horses can sense tension.

  “My mom promised me never to get involved with a guy,” I say.

  “Until you get your career going or something right?” he asks.

  I turn around and say, “Never actually. She was kind of dramatic.”

  “Your mom asked you never get involved with a guy? That’s kind of ridiculous,” he says.

  “I know. I’ve been going along with it, figuring that one day I wouldn’t need to listen to her advice anymore.”

  “There’s a story here, and I want to hear all of it,” he says, flopping down onto a pile of hay. I can’t help but wonder what’s in that hay.

  Rather than join him, I flip over an empty bucket and park my ass on it. I promised Gwen I would bring her clothes back in one piece. She’ll forgive me if I bring back a juicy story with them. He studies me, knowing that he’s in for an earful.

  “I didn’t take you for the kind of guy that cares about the girls you sleep with,” I say.

  “I haven’t slept with you,” he says.

  “Point.”

  “Yet.”

  “Do you think you’re going to?”

  Logan gives me that confident stare, those piercing blue eyes that penetrate right through me and make me quiver, yet his mouth doesn’t move. His eyes say enough.

  “Norma, my mom, had a full ride to Stanford. She was majoring in pre-law,” I say, launching into a story that I’ve never told anyone even though I’ve been rehearsing it for years.

  Logan starts listening very intently, and I can tell that he’s been waiting to hear this too.

  “She went home for the summer after her freshman year and reunited with her boyfriend. He was the starting quarterback for their high school team. Back in high school, she was the head cheerleader. Kind of your stereotypical high school romance.”

  “Hey! I like where this is going,” Logan says.

  “You won’t. He’s my dad. Norma and John Long. He got her pregnant that summer with my oldest sister. She dropped out of Stanford. Lost her scholarship.”

  “And this was in Eden?” he asks. I’m both surprised and delighted that he remembers that minor detail of my life.

  “No. Oklahoma City actually. That’s where they grew up. They moved to Eden years later.”

  “Why’d they move?” he asks.

  “They were running,” I say, hoping he’ll stop asking questions and I can hold back some of my secrets. Actually they’re not even my secrets. They belong to my mom. She told me and I’ve been keeping them for her ever since. That’s my responsibility as her daughter.

  “From what?” he asks. I sigh, realizing that I’ll have to tell him something.

  “My asshole dad told my mom all kinds of things when they found out she was pregnant. He could have played college ball, but he got it in his head that he had to be a marine. At the time he was in basic. Told my mom that he would do a tour of duty and then try to make it in the pros afterward. He bombed out of the marines, and he never even tried to get back into football.”

  “Holy shit, I’m sorry Tam,” he says.

  “If you ask my mom, he did nothing wrong. She always, always makes excuses for him. They were two dumb kids that had to make ends meet in Oklahoma to get by. So they did some odd jobs.”

  “Like?”

  I really don’t want to tell him, yet at the same time he’s the only person who’s ever been genuinely interested in my history. I settle on a version of the truth.

  “They were selling drugs in their hometown. Eventually they went to Eden when they thought the police were on to them.”

  Logan laughs. “No fucking way. I don’t believe it.”

  “It’s not funny you jerk. I’m being serious,” I say.

  He doubles over in the hay. “I know, I know but…”

  “But nothing. My older sister was raised by two people who thought the law was going to bust them any given day. Fortunately by the time they had me, they found honest work.”

  “So she made you promise not to walk the path she did?” he asks.

  Thank god he gets it. I don’t really care to go into the rest of the horrible details.

  “She could have been a lawyer. She could have been somebody. But no matter what she stands by my dad.”

  He whistles softly, taking in a story that I’ve been carrying with me for years.

  “So you’re really serious about being just friends?” he asks.

  “I really, really am.”

  “And this whole thing we have going about…”

  “I’ll be your fake fiancée as long as you need me to be, but I need you to agree that this kind of thing can’t keep happening,” I say pointing to the wall where we made out.

  He nods. “You’re right. We can’t keep doing stupid shit.”

  Stepping up from the hay, he takes my hand as we step out of the stable back onto the mansion grounds.

  “Logan, when we get back to Rome tomorrow, what are we going to be?” I ask, realizing that this weekend is as much a fairy tale as it looks on paper.

  “I was hoping you’d still be fake engaged to me,” he says.

  “I think I’d like that,” I say resting my head on his shoulder. Who knew I’d be more comfortable with a fake boyfriend than I’d ever be with the real thing.

  I realize for the second time I didn’t help him with his own problems, his impending arranged marriage to Katerina Prescot
t. Apparently, I’m a terrible distraction. And here I thought that was him. I’m glad he doesn’t ask me about her again because I don’t have an answer for him. Rebel against your parents, or do as they ask. I don’t envy his choice.

  As we walk hand in hand back to the mansion, I remember that Gwen texted me.

  Stop calling Logan a horse.

  Classic Gwen.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Logan

  For the rest of the day, I try to treat Tamber right. It’s hard to imagine the kind of life that she lived growing up with those two for parents.

  Before lunch, I take her for a workout in the exercise room. We’ve got a fully-stocked gym in the guest wing of the mansion. I do need to get a workout in, but it’s honestly just a ploy to get Tamber all sweaty and mostly naked. Every time I tell her that I’m fine being “just friends” a little surge of guilt runs through me.

  Tamber shows up in those same track shorts that I fucking love, and any guilt that I’m feeling is totally worth it. When she hops on the elliptical, I make it totally obvious that I’m watching her ass. She turns around and smiles, only to see me curling 45-pound dumbbells.

  I figure if she wants to be just friends then my bulging biceps shouldn’t be a problem for her at all. She stares a little too long and nearly falls the fuck off the elliptical. That’s when I take my tank top off and get in a set of upside-down ab crunches.

  “Need a spot?” she asks as I’m mid crunch, my six pack compacting together tightly.

  “Not really an exercise that needs it,” I say. “But you’re welcome to watch.”

  She giggles and stands there, and I can feel her eyes all over my body. That’s when I can feel myself getting hard again, and I know she notices.

  I’m not the only one that’s terrible at being just friends.

  After lunch I take her to the greenhouse where Jeffrey grows a bunch of vegetables. More importantly he grows the hops for our home brews. The place is unbearable in the summer when the sun beats down hot on the opaque pre-fabricated walls. Walking down the rows and rows of plants, we can’t help but bump into each other. When we get to the rows of hops, I take her hand, and she doesn’t mind when our fingers intertwine.

  “We basically grow everything we use except dairy and meat. We used to have chickens back in the day,” I say.

  “Not worth it after you moved out huh? I bet you probably ate a dozen eggs a day back in high school.”

  “Sure. The place is basically self-sustaining if it has to be.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind when the zombie apocalypse hits,” she says.

  Did I mention I kind of love this girl?

  Love or not, her boundaries are clear despite our best efforts to make them blurry. Everyone calls me a player, but I always treat my girls right, and I never lie to them. I can’t imagine doing what her dad did. Damn.

  Next we head over to the brewery adjacent to the greenhouse. Jeffrey’s got a fresh batch coming off the line, and Tamber and I take a taste test. Her scrunched up face at the intense bitterness is so fucking adorable like basically everything else she does. We help Jeffrey bottle a couple of six packs before he gets tired of our being in the way.

  I wish it was summer time, so I could show her the pool. Her body must look ace in a bikini. After a swim there’s the pool house. My thoughts start to drift to some rather dirty territory, and I have to start thinking about football plays to stop myself from getting hard again. Tamber Long has got my head all screwed up.

  Next, we head to the game room in the basement of the mansion. There’s a wet bar in there that Jeffrey normally mans when my dad has guests over. As kids, Carolyn, Jillian, and I basically spent all of our time down here.

  As we got older they shut me out of her all the time when they had their girlfriends over on the weekend. That all changed in high school when I was the starting quarterback. Then their friends started demanding that I hand out with them. Obviously my sisters hated that.

  I play bartender for Tamber, mixing up a vodka tonic for her and a whiskey on the rocks for me. We play a couple of rounds of 8-ball. I don’t even let Tamber win. She crushes me. She’s an honest-to-god pool shark.

  “One benefit of having parents that have been hustling to get by since they day they got together,” she says winking at me.

  “Damn I need to take you to Vegas girl,” I say.

  “Texas Hold-em’s my game Logan. You wouldn’t want to go up against me,” she says.

  We find ourselves lounging on the leather couch watching football news on the sports channel. We both have a fresh cocktail in hand. Her bare legs are laying across my lap. After the gym, she changed out of those fancy pants into a short skirt. I’m so in love with her short ass, toned-to-hell-and-back legs.

  “Do you ever find it weird that people on TV talk about you?” she asks when a report on me comes up on the local news.

  “At first. You get used to it. Eventually you just tune it all out.”

  As I say that the talking heads pull up Tamber’s blurry picture stumbling out of Marquise Steakhouse. For the life of me I can’t figure out why they keep running the picture. I suppose because it’s the most recent shot of me they can find.

  To anyone actually paying attention, it’s obvious she’s not that drunk. Now they’re talking about how she’s not my usual kind of girl. The cowards in the news will stretch a story as wide as possible. Embarrassed I reach for the remote to change it. She grabs it out of my hand.

  “I want to hear this,” she says with the most evil grin I’ve ever seen.

  The talking heads talk about how she’s short, small chested girl with brown hair. They throw up some of my past girls for a side-by-side comparisons. My past girls are all tall and blonde. When they are done critiquing her looks, Tamber mutes the TV and looks at me.

  “Well?” she asks..

  “They’re not wrong. You are not my usual type. Doesn’t mean you aren’t hot as fuck,” I say.

  She blushes. Goddamn she’s so cute.

  I’m about to compliment her again when the TV suddenly flashes “incoming call.”

  “What the hell is this?” she asks.

  “Basically everything in this house is wired together. Jeffrey must have sent this through for me,” I explain.

  I hit a button on the TV’s universal remote. The screen jumps from the local news to the somewhat blurry scene of a giant bong on the middle of a coffee table in a hazy room with a huge French flag hanging on the back wall.

  “Bonjour, Carolyn, Jillian,” I say rolling my eyes. “How are you?”

  Suddenly my two spastic, older, blonde sisters appear in the picture.

  “Bonjour, motherfucker!” Carolyn yells.

  “When the fuck did you get engaged?” Jillian asks.

  “Oh hey you must be Tamber,” Carolyn says.

  Immediately, Tamber flips her legs off me. “Oh shit they can see us?”

  My sisters laugh hysterically. “It’s okay babe. Are you taking care of little bro?” Jillian asks.

  “As best I can,” Tamber says.

  “Sorry Tam, I didn’t think you’d be ambushed by these two chuckle fucks.”

  “Little bro, you asshole. Were you even going to tell us you got engaged?” Carolyn asks.

  “It’s only been a week or something,” Logan says.

  Carolyn’s eyes narrow. Even while high, she’s always been very perceptive. “Or something? You can’t remember, and we’re the stoned ones?”

  “Six days exactly,” Tamber says. She looks at me, and nod in agreement. Count on Tamber to throw out some bullshit cover. Got to love her.

  “So what made you fall in love with fuckface over here?” Jillian asks pointing at me.

  “I feel like I’d creep you out if I explained why,” Tamber says.

  “Yeah probably,” Carolyn says taking an enormous hit from her bong.

  “No really we love you baby bro. When’s the wedding?” Jillian asks.

  “
Well right now…” Logan starts to say when his sisters interrupt him.

  “Mom and Dad aren’t having it?” Carolyn ask.

  Both Logan and I nod at the same time.

  “They’ll come around,” Jillian says. “You just need to impress them. They’re fucking impossible people.”

  Jillian joins Carolyn taking a hit from the bong.

  “Why do you think we smoke so much?” Carolyn asks.

  “That tough?” Tamber asks.

  “Dad wanted a chaperone on all our dates growing up,” Carolyn says.

  “Yeah I’m honestly surprised that Jeffrey isn’t down there with you right now,” Jillian says.

  “They’re probably watching them on the cameras,” Carolyn laughs.

  “Shit there’s cameras?” Tamber asks looking around.

  “They’re fucking with you Tam,” Logan says.

  “She hopes!” they both laugh at the same time.

  “Mom says you’re in business and shit?” Jillian asks.

  Tamber explains her five year plan in somewhat excruciating detail. My sisters are more interested in her than they’ve ever been about my game. I didn’t actually expect Tamber to hit it off with them so well.

  “Girl when we come out for the wedding, you are smoking with us,” Carolyn says.

  Tamber laughs. “I’ll count on it.”

  “Because you guys are getting married right?” Jillian asks.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask.

  “Dad sounded like he was not happy,” Carolyn says.

  “Which sucks because you seem like a cool chick,” Jillian says.

  “Let me handle dad,” Logan says.

  “Oh yeah, that always goes over well,” Carolyn says.

  “Aww your parents aren’t so bad,” Tamber says. “I think they’re starting to like me.”

  Carolyn and Jillian crack up. At the same time I can’t believe how well Tamber gets along with them. My sisters have literally never liked a girl I’ve dated before, and they always, always give me shit about the girls they see me with on the Dirty.

  “Tamber. Our parents don’t like anyone,” Jillian says.

  “Better to figure that out sooner rather than later. Nice meeting you girl. You seem cool. Do right by our bro okay?” Carolyn says.

 

‹ Prev