by Ana Balen
I had to admit he was right. I almost got trampled when entering the place.
“Fine,” I sighed, turned then walked out of the room leaving Jason with a stunned look on his face.
After a cortisone shot, arranging for me to be the one who will administer them in the future, a short detour to the children’s ward, where he gave autographs and posed for pictures, and sneaking off to go to his place, another form of torture began. I didn't want to admit it, but I had a newfound respect for the man. Seeing the smiles on the kids’ faces, not to mention how much fun Jason appeared to have, the anger for constantly questioning me I held toward him started to rapidly melt away, and he started to simply annoy me.
I could still feel my palms tingling from the touch of his skin. From the moment I started stretching his joint until the very last second of the leg massage, I had to clench my teeth and my thighs, because the prickly sensation shot from my palms right to my breasts, making them swell until it settled in my clit, which pulsed with my every heartbeat. Thankfully, Jason questioning my sanity and my will to kill him helped push the urge to bring his head down so I could kiss him and call him all the filthy, sexy names that exist away. He made me want him more and more with every second that passed.
“You're aware that we're not going to give up?” Max asked, bringing me to the present.
I looked at him sideways, assessing the truth in his statement. I loved him as I did all my brothers. I just wished they didn't frequently drive me to the point of committing homicide or spend so much money on bail. Considering how much time they spent in a holding cell, it was a miracle they could keep their jobs. Then again, all the guys from the station thought it was hilarious whenever I called them to get those brutes out of my way. A few years ago, they even gave me an envelope full of cash. It turned out to be bail I paid over the years. So, at least that mystery was solved. They didn’t get officially arrested and processed; they were just holding them there, so I could get a few hours of peace.
“Yeah, I know,” I sighed and decided, since he ambushed me in my own apartment, scaring the daylight out of me when he growled, demanding I tell him who it was, I had every right to eat his french fries.
“Hey!” He tried to get them back but pulled his hand back quickly when I retaliated. “Not fair, you know you're not allowed to use your knowledge or put pressure on our nerves to cause us pain. I'm going to tell Mom.”
I rolled my eyes at him to let him know how much that pained me and continued speaking as if he hadn’t said a word. “And you know I can't tell you who my patient is, as I never can, but you're still going to drive me crazy trying to find out who it is.”
“It would be best for everyone if you just told us,” he said in a condescending tone and shrugged his massive shoulders. “You know we won't give up.”
“And you also know there's no way in hell you're going to find out,” I replied, knowing it won't help.
“There's three of us and only one of you,” he gave me a cocky wink before he took his next bite.
Finishing the last of his French fries, I swallowed, bunching up a napkin. “Just… please don't make me spend any more money on bail.”
“It was your fault the last time!” he shouted in outrage. “What sane person calls the cops on their brothers?”
“The same one who thinks someone's breaking in at three in the morning, you jerk.”
God, could it be so difficult to give me normal, loving, protective brothers instead of the three lunatics I got stuck with? Is that too much to ask?
“Finish your dinner and get out. I need to get some sleep.”
Pushing away from the table, I took my bag and papers that were on the couch with me, so the big brute wouldn't get any ideas, and went to my room, leaving him sitting at the table. “And no more breaking in!” I yelled as I stashed the papers that would give Jason's identity away behind three boxes of tampons. If one thing scared the living hell out of them, it was lady products.
Looking behind me, I checked if the coast was clear and started to take my clothes off almost giddy for my bath.
“You do know mom has a new boyfriend, right?” Max asked, standing behind me and making me scream.
Oh, fucking hell.
Chapter Four
Jason
“Are you sure you’re not trying to kill me?”
It was the fifth time I asked Rory that question in the span of the seven days we’ve worked together, and every time I asked, she glanced up at me with that look that screamed you’re a dumbass. I battled a constant urge to either throttle her, or take her in my arms and kiss her before I proceeded to fuck the daylights out of her.
The restraint I had on my control was slipping today. It was because I had a full week of her tormenting me under the excuse that she was helping me heal. Her bending down to help me do the exercises, with her heart-shaped ass right in front of my face, making saliva pool in my mouth, was pure torture. I wanted to lick it or take a bite out of it so badly. Her rubbing her hands all over me under the guise that she was massaging my sore muscles that screamed in agony, all the while I just had to lie there and fight the hard-on she was giving him, was not helping either. It was all becoming just a tad too much.
I was just a man, for God’s sake.
I didn’t know how much of this I could take.
I didn’t feel any better from all the pain enduring therapy. In fact, every night, my leg hurt like a bitch, making me limp even more than I did when I had the brace. Granted, my ankle wasn’t stiff in the mornings like it used to be, and the limping wasn’t bad during the day either. If I was honest with myself, I could see the progress and slowly the pressure subside each day. I was truly impressed with her knowledge of sports injuries, but I would be damned if I ever said that out loud. Also, her work ethic was something that I admired more and more. I couldn’t even count how many phone calls I overheard during which she rattled all the medical phrases like she was reading a phone book or giving instructions on how to properly do the exercises.
I caved once and asked what all that was about. I was sure that she would simply shrug her shoulders and say it wasn’t my business. But, she surprised me when she said that they were the calls from her previous patients, all while trying to hide a blush that crept up her neck to her cheeks. When I asked if they were famous athletes, she had a stubborn look her face and told me to shut the hell up and do as I was instructed. I took it as a yes. The most surprising thing was, she didn’t brag or thow out the names of people I may have known just to impress me. She seemed genuinely shy about it, and that brought me to another problem. That afternoon, I began to admire her and as the days went by, I started to feel pride. She let her work speak for itself. And fuck me, but it was hot as hell.
“Ouch!” I yelped, giving Rory a murderous glare. Any other girl would jump up and try to make me feel better, fawning all over me, trying to take the pain away.
But not Rory.
No.
All she did was look up at me from where she was squatted down while she rotated my joint this way and that, and winked at me, giving me a little smirk. That was it. I was going to fire her. I had no other choice. Day in and day out she was slowly and painfully killing my career. Not to mention, making my dick weep in agony in the process.
It was a shame really. The fact that I absolutely had to do it. I liked having her around, bending every few minutes, granting me the full view of that heart-stopping ass, or just like now, squatting down and giving me the chance to peek down her shirt at her mouthwatering breasts.
Yeah, no woman, no matter how attractive she was or how many cold showers I had to take after she was gone was worth me losing my spot in the Denver Thunders. It irritated me to no end that she, did in fact, know what she was doing, and I wasn't about to fall for her career-killing plans. But, I would just find another therapist that was just as good; I didn’t care how much it cost or where in the world the person lived.
On top of it all, I ha
ted those few times that I overheard her phone conversations that weren’t with her former patients and those soft I love you too's that she whispered before she hung up. At first, I was furious that she obviously had a man in her life, and that made me want to tear out the walls in my proximity with my bare hands. As soon as I convinced myself it was only because I wanted her to be focused only on me for the duration of our contract and nothing more, I found out it was either her mother or her brothers on the other end of the line. Well, my reaction to that little tibit was even more frustrating, since I wanted all those soft words for myself, and as soon as I got confirmation she was single, something in me sighed in relief.
So, fuck yeah, it was time for her to go and for me to finally start living as I should. Free of her, and focused only on coming back to the field.
“Listen, Rory,” I started his practiced speech, only for my eyes to cross over and my head to fall back, lolling on my shoulders.
I had to use every ounce of my strength to trap the moan that wanted to come out of my mouth as she started massaging my leg. I could swear I heard her soft chuckle, but I couldn’t be sure and I didn’t give a damn as long as her little hands traveled upward. Almost as if she heard me, she did just that, pushing her apt fingers deep inside the muscle tissue and relaxing every single nerve I had in my body.
“Oh yeah, baby, just like that,” I muttered.
“I take it you like it,” she was now openly laughing at me.
Hearing her mirth, my head whipped up and I had to clear my throat before I could give her a stern look and talk. “Yeah, yeah. It feels okay.”
Just a little bit higher, the thought invaded my mind, just a little bit to the right.
No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t look away from her hands and stop, willing for her to move them so they would cover my dick that was, to my horror, getting harder by the second. As she made her way to the middle of my thigh, I brushed her hands away abruptly and reached for the towel that was next to me on her portable table she demanded that I have, so I could cover up.
“Don’t worry about it,” she said casually like it wasn’t a big deal. Even though I damn well knew it was, my dick was a big deal. Not looking away for a second from my legs, she switched to my right leg as if nothing happened and started talking. “It’s the body’s normal reaction to this.” She looked up at me and, swallowing hard, she finished on a whisper, “It’s because of the increased blood flow.”
Once, just once, I would’ve liked to see I wasn’t the only one who was affected.
“I hate you. You know that, right?” I could feel the muscle jumping in my cheek and was actually afraid I would grind my teeth to dust.
“You do now, but you’re going to love me in the end.”
The infuriating woman winked at me again and went right back to work, leaving me with nothing to say. I was too afraid she was right.
*~*~*
“Fuck,” I hissed as the first spray of freezing water landed on my aching cock.
Rory left two hours ago, and no matter what I did, I could not get the fucker to play nice and accept that it wouldn’t get what it wanted. I knew I could just take myself in my hand and give in to fantasies of Rory riding my dick, her B-cup tits jumping up and down in front of my face, but that play was dangerous. Without a shred of doubt, I knew that if I gave in and went down that road, it was only a matter of days that I'd have to have her. Pushing my palms against the black tiles of the shower, I took a step back and away from the cold spray so my dick wouldn’t freeze and fall off. Leaving my palms firmly on the ceramic, I leaned forward, hoping the cold blast on my head would help me cool down. Maybe if my brain got shot with cold water enough, I would be able to get a full night’s sleep without the little pain in my ass coming to visit my dreams. Making this need that coursed through me pulse with every heartbeat, growing stronger and bringing me to the brink of insanity.
Fuck, but just thinking about those dreams, I couldn’t help but wonder how responsive she would be. How her perfect-sized tits would feel in my palms. They weren’t too big or too small. No, Rory’s were just the size I liked, and I knew I could take her whole tit in my mouth. Would her nipples be small or big, light or dark pink? How would they taste in my mouth as I bit on the soft flesh lightly, then suckled them enough to relieve the pain? Would her pussy weep for me to take her? How tight would she be? Would she scream my name when she came? Would she scratch my back with those short nails of hers as I plunged into her? Damnit, but just thinking of it made my saliva pour into my mouth and my vision became blurry.
“Fuck,” I hissed when I realized that in my musings about the intolerable woman, my hand started slowly going up and down my dick.
I should’ve stopped right then. I should’ve taken an ice bath and chased away all the images of Rory swimming in my head. But fuck me, just the thought of her short, strong legs wrapped around my waist made my cock weep with precum.
“Fucking hell,” I growled as I watched my hand gliding up and down faster, squeezing the head of my dick.
Images of Rory moaning in my ear, her body squirming under me, and screaming my name after I gave her the best orgasm of her life, had me gasping for air as my balls drew up, the pain in my now ever harder dick becoming almost unbearable.
“Rory,” I hissed, and watched as shot after hot shot flew from my stubborn dick and landed on my tiles, the stark contrast of my white cum and the black tiles mocking me.
The last image that shot through my head was me decorating Rory's stomach in my cum, all while she was the one giving me a handjob.
Christ, did I just fantasize about a hand job?
I did
Now I knew deep inside I was well and truly fucked.
“Don’t do it, you jackass,” I said to myself as I stepped out of the shower and reached for the towel to dry off before I went to do what just became an absolute no moments ago.
As I shut off the light in the bathroom, going into my bedroom and pulling up jeans, I shook my head and almost barked, “Do not fucking do it.”
The whole time, as I went out of my house, right to my car, and before I came to her door, I was giving myself every chance to turn around and try to forget what happened in my bathroom, but I knew there was no coming back from it. I wanted her as much as I wanted to go back to playing football. I needed her as much as I needed the rush of a touchdown from one of my passes. My heart beat faster, giving me life, giving me purpose when I was near her just as much as the roar from the crowded stadium did.
No, there was no going back.
Because Rory Ryan was mine.
It’s just a matter of convincing her, I thought, still shaking my head at my own stupidity of ever thinking the opposite when the blood in my body turned cold.
“Stop it, you fucking bastards!” the high-pitched sound of my woman screaming in terror behind the door.
Chapter Five
Rory
“Stop it, you fucking bastards!” I shrieked, foolishly thinking it was going to stop the idiots who were tearing my beautiful apartment apart, trying to find out Jason's identity.
I should have known better. Any other time, if I even raised my voice, they would come and one of them would pat my body down, looking for injuries, while the others would be trying to find the threat so they could demolish it.
But not now.
No.
After a week full of break-ins, thankfully during the day, ambushes at the least expected places, whining, pleading, begging, and attempted bribing, they had enough. And the three dickheads came together and figured that the best course of action was if all three came and ruined my sanctuary. I was bending down to Carter, who I thought was the good brother and had my back in this insane obsession of theirs, and who was currently knocking on my hardwood floor after he flipped my white couch so he could get under it. He was muttering there has to be one. What, I didn't know?
I whispered, “I'm calling Mom if you don't stop,” when sudden
ly there was a loud banging on my door, shaking it on its hinges.
Great, who had they called for reinforcements?
I didn't get to take one step to my poor door, when Chace ripped it open, turned around to look at me, put his hand to his chest, and gasped, “You bitch!” before the cacophony of shouts.
“I knew it!”
“Dear God, we hit the motherload!”
And mayhem ensued.
*~*~*
“I'm disowning you. You no longer exist,” Max sniffed when I came into his line of vision.
“Is that the way you greet your savior?” I asked, raising my brow to the giant who was my big brother.
“Savior?” he snorted and looked at me through the bars. “You're the one who put us here.”
“No, the nice police officers who came are the ones who put you here.”
“And who called them?” Chace asked in outrage.
Dear God, save me!
I couldn't understand how three adult males in their thirties could possibly behave like that. It was no wonder neither of them had girlfriends. Despite their various shades of blond hair, astonishing green eyes, and sculpted bodies, they were all still single. Yes, they were my brothers, but even I had to admit they were good-looking.
I chanced a glance at Jason, who was quietly sitting on the bench opposite them, wearing a stunned look on his face. He didn't say a single word to me. Not before the cops came, or after. Not even now, while those three were sending me death glares.