by Rebel Hart
I pushed Quinn toward the goal. “Go. Save yourself.”
“You saved me!” she yelped. “I won’t go without you!” She grabbed my arm, and I went totally limp, forcing her to drag me down the path. “Okay, you ass.”
The girl on the other team put her gun in the air. “Okay, you two are awesome! I forfeit. Take the win.”
The guy held his gun up as well, so Quinn dropped my arm and bolted off toward the finish line. She must have triggered something as she ran because the entire ground rumbled as a giant alien-looking creature rose up from the ground between us and the finish.
A voice clicked on from somewhere around us. “It looks like you’re gonna have to work together, agents! Don’t stop firing until that thing is dead!”
I jumped up off the ground, and all four of us charged at the green, multi-tendrilled alien. We kept on firing until all of our guns were letting out nothing but empty clicks, and then a loud hiss caused us all to jump as smoke shot up from the ground. There was a loud bang, and green goop exploded from the fake alien, splattering across our armor.
The voiceover boomed back on. “There’s the drop! Go!”
The four of us locked eyes, and then we all took off toward the caged area at the end, but Quinn easily left us in the dust. She passed over the finish line and slapped the button on the piles of metal cases waiting inside.
One side of the cage creaked to life, swinging out to the side, and the same agent who’d gotten Quinn and me geared up came driving through in a golf cart covered in mud and mesh. He pulled it to a stop in front of us and climbed out. He put a hand on Quinn’s shoulder. “Looks like you were the right agent for the job.” He pointed at the rest of us. “You other maggots are going to need a lot more training. If this weren’t a simulation, you’d all be dead! Now get in the cart!”
I climbed into the passenger’s side of the cart next to the driver, and Quinn and the woman from the other team climbed into the row behind us. The guy from the other team situated himself against the rear seat, and once we were all settled, the agent started off back toward the top of the course.
The woman next to Quinn took off her helmet, and we all followed suit. She smiled broadly at Quinn. “You guys are amazing.”
Quinn laughed. “You weren’t bad, yourselves.”
“I’m Amelia, and this is my husband, Ben. We’ve got this course memorized, and you still made us look like chumps.”
“I’m Zeke,” I announced before putting one of my gloved hands on Quinn’s head, “and this monster is Quinn.”
Quinn smiled proudly. “Nice to meet you.”
“What are you guys doing after this? We have to get lunch or something. I need to get to know the guy who throws himself into the line of fire to protect his girl.” She leered over at Ben. “You’ve never done that for me.”
“And I won’t, but don’t think I don’t love you,” Ben replied, and we all laughed.
Quinn looked over at me, and I could see the excitement in her face. I nodded, and she looked back at Amelia. “Yeah! We’d love to get lunch.”
“Excellent! There’s a really good place not far from here.”
The golf cart dropped us at the top of the course, where our cage and warehouse doors were already open and waiting. We went in, got changed out of our armor, and collected our things. I unlocked my phone to call and cancel the lunch reservation I’d made for Quinn and me and noticed I had a text from an unknown number. I opened it, and it was Wright.
Got an opportunity to go
pro for you. They’re at the
bottom, but it could be a good
start.
I looked over at Quinn, who was chatting away with Amelia. For such a long time, I’d dreamed of getting out of Montpelier, even totally out of Idaho, but suddenly, she was like a heavy anchor. I wasn’t sure I wanted to leave anymore.
I’m not interested.
But I know you can do
better than such a low
team.
I started to put my phone away when it buzzed again.
What about Colorado?
Colorado was a good team. They were relatively new to the NFL, but they had still made quite a splash in the time that they’d been established. Being such a blank slate but also already having so much notoriety made it a good team to start with. Quinn smiled at me, and for a moment, I imagined asking her to come with me. It was silly to think that we were already there, but there was something strong between us, even if it was fresh and new. I knew it was the real deal. That’s why things had been emotional and tense for us from the beginning. Whatever decision I decided to make, it wouldn’t be the worst thing to at least hear Colorado out.
Set up a meeting with
Colorado and see what
they have to say.
Make sure no one knows
I’m involved.
Once the texts were sent, I deleted them. Quinn didn’t seem like the kind of girl to go through my phone, but I didn’t want her stumbling across them, regardless. I slipped my phone back into my pocket just as Quinn called me over, and the pair of us along with Amelia and Ben left the paintball arena and headed to an outdoor cafe about ten minutes away. We found a table, ordered lunch, and immediately settled into some delightful conversation with our new friends.
We learned that Amelia and Ben were sports-heads, too—though soccer, not football—and they related to our love for athletics. I wasn’t sure quite what it was, but Quinn and I were on fire, making jokes about each other, mentioning different things we’d known about one another, and even finishing each other’s sentences. For the fact that Amelia and Ben were married, we were about neck and neck with them in terms of looking like a seasoned couple.
“You guys are so freaking cute,” Amelia said finally. “How long have you been together, and when is the wedding? I know it’s weird for me to invite myself because we literally just met, but I’m inviting myself.”
I looked at Quinn, and she gave me a coquettish smile and nodded. I looked back at Amelia. “This is actually our first date.”
Ben was taking a sip of his water at the time and choked on it. “What?”
Quinn nodded. “True story. I mean, we’ve known each other for about three weeks, and we do have a drunken night under our belts, but yeah, first date.”
Amelia’s jaw was wide open. “I’m shocked. Seriously. I would have given you guys, like, three years, minimum.” She chuckled. “Well then, when’s the wedding, because this”—she flicked her finger between us—“is fate. You two are meant to be together. For real.”
I side-eyed Quinn for any sign of nerves at the statement, but she just smiled back at me, blushing lightly. It set my heart on fire. I let my mind briefly travel down the road of being together with her forever and was terrified that it didn’t terrify me. No one had ever lit my emotions up the way Quinn did. That kind of thing didn’t just happen to people.
We finished lunch and exchanged numbers with Amelia and Ben, made plans to double-date again soon, and went our separate ways. When Quinn and I were both seated in my car, I started the ignition but didn’t move the car. Paintball and lunch were all I planned for the day, but the thought of bringing her home made me the saddest I ever felt. I didn’t want to be away from her yet.
As if reading my mind, Quinn said, “I don’t want to go home.”
I looked over at her with a grin. “What if I went with you?”
She frowned, and I was temporarily frightened that I’d overstepped. “Alec’s home,” she responded, and relief shot through me. She looked back at me, and a sly smile found her face. “Your place?”
I didn’t respond. I simply started my home navigation, and Quinn sat back with a satisfied, if not slightly seductive, smile.
21
Quinn
I adored my brother, but I’d long forgotten what it was like to live in a place where he wasn’t always there. I was barely inside Zeke’s door, and he had me dragged off to the si
de and pressed up against the wall. His hands slunk into my hair to pull my face to his, and he knocked his knee forward to press teasingly against me below. I moaned into him, allowing the wild winds he whipped up inside of me take over. I grabbed the base of his t-shirt, peeled it up over his torso, and tossed it aside, and then my hands fled back to the hem of his jeans to fiddle with the button. He reached down and took my wrists into one of his wide hands, pinning them above my head.
He set his forehead to mine and bore into me with his dark, heavy eyes. “Not so fast. I barely remember last time, so I’m taking my time with this one.”
He was demanding control, and I was perfectly fine to give it to him. “Very well.”
His lips took mine in again, this time more forceful, with his tongue sneaking out to curl into mine. With the hand that wasn’t pinning my wrists to the wall, he started to journey across all the crevices and curves of me. His hand pushed up my shirt along my sides and then walked around to my back. His fingers pulled across my spine in scratches that weren’t too hard to hurt, but just aggressive enough to heighten the heat. I allowed him to move my head back with his so that he could take a succulent bite of my neck while his roaming hand traveled upwards to unclasp my bra. When he’d done so successfully, he pulled away from me and grabbed the base of my shirt, yanking it up and off before returning to pull my bra away, as well. He crouched enough to tuck his arms under my legs and lifted me from my feet. I locked my ankles behind him and returned to his lips while he led us through his home and into his bedroom.
I was dropped on the bed, and Zeke slithered over me. I wrapped my arms around his back to return the scratches he’d given me, and he growled against my lips at the feeling, exciting me tenfold. I’d been told before that I could be rough in bed. Maybe it was just my tendency to do so as an athlete, but I lived in constant fear of being too much for my lovers. Zeke was showing me in his own way that he was up to the task of whatever I threw at him, both on and off the field. Feeling like I could truly let go and just enjoy lovemaking was a brand new feeling.
Zeke wrapped his arms around me and rolled, bringing me to sit on top of him. I could feel his erection trying desperately to break free of his pants. I ran my hands down his stomach, my skin burning at the intense way he watched me like I was the only thing in the world.
When I got to the top of his pants, I looked up at him. “May I?”
He grinned and reached a hand up to run along my cheek. “You can do whatever you want now.”
My body buzzed. Whatever I wanted. I worked with the metal button on his jeans while his hand dropped to my breast to massage it. My cheeks were burning, and my mind went wild with the realization that I was sitting on top of a man I used to watch on TV—a man that I thought wanted to end my career. It was crazy how life interfered when we took too much control. Both Zeke and I tried desperately to direct our fates, and all we did was end up a totally different road than we were originally traveling, one that went in the same direction. It was exhilarating and terrifying. What did the future hold for us? Why did being near him feel like being near myself? Like a chunk of me had been ripped out and chucked into a field, and after years and years of searching, I’d finally found it?
“Are you trying to tease me?” Zeke’s gruff voice pulled me from my thoughts.
I shrugged. “Maybe.”
I snaked my hands into his jeans and took his smoldering length into my hand. His eyes stayed trained on me, though I could see the strain of pleasure threaten to take him away. I smiled and repositioned so that I could slide down. I moved the pieces of fabric away and, after taking a few tentative licks, pulled him inside my mouth. He let out a moan that wrapped around me like a chord of music, one I played over and over and over and never got sick of it. I worked with my tongue and hand to pull a fantastic melody of sounds from Zeke, loving when his hand traveled to the back of my head to push and guide me.
He continued to elongate in my mouth, and the space between my legs was growing ever-wetter with anticipation. It desperately wanted what my mouth was currently taking its fill of. I moved my hand lower to touch myself and bring it relief, but Zeke immediately reacted. He sat up, pulling me off of him in the action, and turned me on my back.
“No helping yourself today,” he demanded. “Not when I’m around to do it.”
I shuddered, trying to calculate exactly when his sexual magnitude had tripled. Was I doomed to forever feel the waves of excitement when he was around me now? Our drunken night had been an appetizer, at best, and this was a full five-course meal. He started by kicking his jeans and boxers off first and then moved to pull my pants from around my legs. He grinned at the sight.
“Green’s my favorite color.” My thong was a bright shade of neon green, Viper’s green, to be specific. “Did you do it on purpose?” I bit my lip and smiled, and he closed his eyes and gave a little shake. “Well, these will have to stay, then.”
Zeke ducked his head between my legs and pulled the fabric of my underwear to one side. I inhaled, and when I felt the heat of his tongue, the exhale was a loud moan. It was different from the tastes he’d taken of me back at my place. Those had been quick experimenting. This time, Zeke laid on his stomach and settled in. He alternated between fast and slow speeds, bounced between my hole and sweet spot up top, and got his fingers involved. Minutes bled together until time felt like one long, continuous moment.
By the time my first orgasm hit me, my second one was already lining up, ready to jump in, and my third was on deck. I lost count of the number of times I screamed his name or let swear words escape my lips. My legs turned to jelly, and I was totally at his mercy. He could have asked me to jump right out the window, and I probably would have. When another orgasm crashed over me, Zeke was finally ready to move on. He came up and gave me a wolfish lick of his lips.
“Delicious.”
I couldn’t respond. The words that might have tried to come out wouldn’t have cleared my mess of a head and would have only been incoherent mumbles. Instead, I held out my arms, and Zeke crawled over me again, setting his heated flesh against mine. He didn’t need a hand to work himself inside. Our pieces found each other like supercharged magnets, and we both cried out at the feeling. Zeke pressed his lips to mine, and I swerved my hips. Zeke grabbed my legs and held them in a way that restricted my movement.
He pulled away and shook his head. “I told you. I’m taking my time.”
It was borderline frustrating, but I trusted Zeke to do what needed to be done. He’d already given me more pleasure in a single day than all of my former lovers combined, so if he wanted to move at a pace that was his own, I was going to let him. He hadn’t failed me so far.
He sat up and started in and out of me in slow, drawn-out movements. My mind threatened to short circuit as I could feel all of him, pulling out and dragging in. It was exquisite, and my legs shook. On occasion, he would pick up the pace, bring me right to the edge, and then back off, leaving me moaning and crying out for more. It was the best and worst game of chutes and ladders. Every time I moved my piece ten steps forward, thinking that one more turn was going to bring me across the finish line, I’d land on a slide and fall two rows down. The optimal difference was that climbing the ladders felt as good as the falling slides did. Every time I stood at the precipice only to not achieve the final pleasure, my body grew more sensitive, more impatient. It made each move feel infinitely better than the last.
Finally, Zeke smiled down at me. My mind was too much a mush to read it, but he picked up his pace, moving faster and faster until he was slapping against me. His eyes drifted close, as did mine, and he pressed on. I climbed one ladder and another and another until my piece finally spilled across the finish line. The noises that came out of both Zeke and me were animalistic and raw, and all at once, Zeke snatched himself out of me, just in time for me to feel the dripping of him splashing forth.
He stayed in place for a moment, shuddering and groaning while my orgasm made s
ure that every inch of me had felt it before it finally went away.
Finally, Zeke rolled to his back and looked over at me. “Shit.”
I nodded. “Uh-huh. That’s what you miss when you’re drunk.”
He laughed. “I may never drink again.”
He stayed flat on his back next to me, so I curled around until I could lay back against his stomach. An arm cast over me and started to gently caress the skin of my stomach.
“I have never been with someone like you,” I admitted. “I don’t know why you’re so different.”
“If you figure it out, let me know,” Zeke replied. “I have a secret basement full of your pictures and red string.”
I laughed before asking, “What changed? When did we stop hating each other?”
“You know, I remember coming to your first game,” Zeke said. “You started to play, and I sat up straight. My whole body buzzed all over, and all I could think was, ‘Holy crap. This girl is awesome.’”
I hunched my brow. I put my hand against his hand on my stomach. “I was always a fan of yours. When you walked up to me, I was like, ‘Is that Zeke Matheson? Did he see me play?’ I was starstruck until you immediately turned into an ass.”
“I did turn into an ass.” He went quiet for a minute. “I don’t know. I take football so seriously, and I’d never been in a position where excellent plays took a backseat to teamwork. You guys worked so well together, but there were all these mistakes. You still won, and it pissed me off because I couldn’t figure out how a team that seemed so bad on the surface still pulled out a victory.” I couldn’t tell if he was insulting my team or not, but then he continued. “I’ve seen you play since then, and I’ve realized…you guys are good. Like, really good. We only beat you because we had, what, quadruple your team size? Maybe there was a part of me that felt threatened.”