by Alley Ciz
“I know something I can eat.”
My body goes liquid at the naughty implication. He’s as skilled with his tongue as he is on the field, but he’s right—he needs food.
With one last kiss and grope, I roll away to get ready. If I don’t get out of this bed now, I don’t think I ever will.
Mason’s appeal is so potent that even from across the room, the sight of him bedhead-ed, sleepy-eyed, naked chest on display with the sheets bunched around his trim hips has me wanting to toss the leggings I just grabbed away.
“Can you stop looking at my ass and get dressed? You’re not the only one who’s hungry here.”
Plus, I need sustenance if I’m going to gather the nerve to invite him to meet my family when the Hawks travel to play the University of Maryland next weekend.
Lost in my musing, I don’t notice that Mason has gotten out of bed until he’s taking the purple Football: What boys do during cheer season shirt from my hands, casting it aside with a quirk to his lips.
“You know I live for your funny shirts, babe, but no need to trash-talk.” Warmth envelops me as those same strong arms I struggled to leave circle my middle until we’re flush against one another. My body melts, eyes falling closed.
Lips follow the vein in my neck, beating a staccato only Mase can set. “Mmm,” he hums, the sound radiating through me. “I love the way I smell on you.”
My nose brushes the curve of his biceps when I tilt my head to give him better access. I have to agree. The fresh scent of his soap has easily become my favorite, but inhaling the musk we’ve created wrapped up in each other is hedonistic.
A startled squeak escapes, my feet leaving the ground as Mason scoops me into his arms. My back meets soft down as my front is covered by his hard body after he drops me back onto the bed.
Lips are on mine, my tongue automatically joining in on the fun. Rough hands skim along the backs of my thighs to hook my legs over his hips, and the thin material of my leggings does nothing to disguise how gloriously hard he is as he grinds against me.
So much for breakfast.
As if reading my mind, Mase starts to work the stretchy elastic down my legs.
Ring! Ring!
My head falls back as the tell-tale ringtone of Tessa Taylor sounds from my bedside table. It’s the sense of sibling obligation that has me reaching out to accept the call, hitting the speakerphone button to make sure everything is all right.
“Kaaaaaayyyyy,” the twin voices of Tessa and her bestie Savvy cry the moment the call connects. The mischief I can hear in their tone already has me regretting answering.
“What’s up, T?”
The buzzed sides of Mason’s head prickle along my skin as he groans into my shoulder.
Savvy is quick to cut in. “No, no, no. Before you distract her with cheerleading,” she says to T before speaking to me. “Can you explain to me why you have an Eleanor in your driveway? Carter is legit drooling over here.” She’s referring to her gearhead brother.
Mase chuckles the same way he did when I had a similar reaction the night of our first date. He rolls to the side, bringing me with him as he does.
“What? I like having you close,” he explains when I give him a look.
I fall for him a little deeper at those words. For years I’ve watched how Bette and E interact, the way they move like they gravitate toward each other, always in constant contact. Mase’s actions remind me of them, and my heart swells again.
“Oh my god!” T’s shout makes me jump. “Mason is at your house? Oh my god, you told him about E? Oh my god, how could JT not tell me? Oh. My. God. How could you not tell me?” T has this way of talking a mile a minute when she gets really happy. It’s also very amusing how someone who has a vocabulary extensive enough to rival the SATs can fall into valley girl oh my god mode when she struggles to process unforeseen information.
“Is this the part where I should say hi?” Mason’s eyes are dancing with laughter when I prop my chin on his chest to see him better.
“Oh my god!”
I knuckle my ear at the octave T just hit.
“Was there an actual reason for your call, T?” I love the girl, but she’s interrupting sexy time with my man.
“Oh…uh…yeah.” With each pause, it’s like I can hear her brain shifting gears, and I pass the time waiting by following the lines of black ink curving down Mason’s side. “I listened to those files you sent. The drumline killed it. I like them.”
“Me too. They may not be my beloved U of J cadences, but Charlie came through in a big way. It will give the routines the edge we’ve been looking for.”
Unlike all those who chose to speculate about if I was cheating on Mason with Charlie then Adam when the photos from that day started circulating (thanks for that, UofJ411—fun times), Mase knows all about the real reason for the meeting.
“So…” T drawls out, and I know she’s winding up to launch into a whole onslaught of questions.
“T.” I cut her off before she can pick up steam. “We can talk about everything on Wednesday when I stay over. Love you, bye.”
With a reluctant goodbye on her part, we hang up, and I’m free to turn my full attention back to Mase.
“Sorry.” I push onto my elbow, closing the distance between our mouths, our lips brushing as I say, “My family is crazy.”
He licks across my bottom lip, eliciting a groan from me. “Do you not remember the halftime-performance-worthy drama that happened during our first date?”
I giggle at the reminder only to have it shift into a moan when he rolls me beneath him again.
Elbows braced on either side of my face on the pillow, he cradles my head and stares down at me intently.
“I knew you would be the one to wife me up when we met.”
I shake my head. He’s so cocky sometimes I almost can’t stand it.
“I didn’t give you the time of day in the beginning.”
“And that only made you hotter. You’re the first girl I ever needed to put any effort in with.”
Give me a swoon! Give me a nee! What’s that spell? Swoony! my damn inner cheerleader chants in my head.
“You know what happens next, right?” I stretch up to place kisses along his jawline.
“What?” His Adam’s apple bobs under my lips.
“It’s time for you to meet my family in person.”
#Chapter56
Our win against Maryland was an absolute slaughter. The team fired on all cylinders in a way that would mean we’d be hoisting the trophy over our heads if today were the national championship.
The best part—
You mean outside of your two touchdowns?
Yeah, yeah, what he said. Anyway… *side-eyes inner coach* The best part was my girl being in the stands to see them. Sure, I didn’t actually see her like I do when we play at home, but knowing she was somewhere in the stadium lit a fire in me. It makes me wish she was able to come to every away game.
Done with my shower and post-game locker room interviews, I gather up my belongings, making sure I have everything I need since I won’t be returning to Jersey on the bus with the team.
The guys have been giving me shit all week, trying to psyche me out of meeting Kay’s family. They would be jealous as fuck if they found out one of those family members is a top player in the NFL, not that I would tell them. I wouldn’t betray Kay’s trust like that.
In all honesty, it’s the big brother and not the professional footballer aspect of who E is that has me nervous. He’s more than just a brother to Kay; he helped raise her.
Then there’s the whole part where I’m afraid he’ll lump me into the same camp as Liam Parker when the last reason I’m dating Kay would be to use her.
I’m hoping the fact that I think of him as E instead of Eric like Kay does will help keep the fanboying down when we meet.
After meeting up with Kay, the forty-minute drive from College Park where UMD plays to E’s house in Baltimore passes in a bl
ur. She’s so easy to talk to it’s like hanging with the guys—but better because I get to sleep with her. It feels like no time at all before we’re driving through a neighborhood filled with waterfront properties, each house larger than the last.
We come to a stop in front of a set of black iron gates. With a push of a button, they open, and Kay pulls her Jeep through.
A long circular drive leads to a gorgeous, sprawling, two-story tan stucco and glass house with a terra cotta roof. Another push of a button has one of the bays on the four-car garage opening for Kay to pull into. The other three spots are filled with a familiar white Range Rover, a black and chrome Escalade, and a badass cerulean blue McLaren 570S.
Kay catches me drooling over the sports car and nudges me along. “That’s E’s favorite toy.”
“I bet.” Kay and her friends have a thing for my Shelby, but this car is in a whole other category of automobile.
“Come on.” She reaches for my hand and threads her fingers through mine, leading me into the house.
The door opens into a hallway with a mudroom/laundry room combo to the right and a powder room to the left. We walk the length of the hall until it eventually leads into an open concept living space. There’s a dining room with a twelve-person table off to the right, a chef’s dream kitchen to the left, and a sunken living room beyond that.
The entire back wall is made up of floor-to-ceiling windows and French glass doors that lead to a gray stone patio, outdoor kitchen, and infinity pool.
Having grown up in Brantley’s McMansion, I’m used to excessive wealth, but her brother’s house has a homey elegance to it.
“We’re home!” Kay yells into the empty space.
“Coming!” a feminine voice calls back followed by giggling before E and Bette appear at the top of the stairs, the former with his arm around the latter.
“Eww. You guys were totally doing it.” Kay’s nose scrunches at her brother nuzzling his wife’s neck while she adjusts her shirt. “Gross.” She mimes gagging. “I so don’t like knowing about your sex life.”
“The feeling is mutual, Squirt.” E ambles over and lifts Kay off the ground in a bear hug.
With Kay still by his side tucked in his protective embrace, I have to choke down the overwhelming urge to fidget under his scrutinizing glare. The ability to breathe doesn’t return until he reaches out a hand for me to shake.
“Heard a lot about you.” E’s words feel more like a threat than a statement. It’s not much of a shock, though. With his insistence on being Kay’s guardian when he could have easily passed it off on someone else, I know they are closer than your typical brother and sister.
“Play nice, Eric,” Bette says, pulling Kay from him and into a hug.
“Same here.” I try to convey that I respect both Kay and what he did for her.
Kay’s eyes bounce between us, watching our exchange. Once my hand is free, she takes it. “Come on, Mase. I’ll show you where you can put your stuff and get changed.”
I let her guide me up the stairs—because I really want to get out of this suit and into some sweats and a t-shirt like E—passing a few doors before turning into a room on the right. Instantly I know it’s Kay’s.
The bedspread is a mashup of pink, white, and black blocks of leopard, cheetah, tiger, giraffe, and zebra print with hot pink sheets. The furniture—headboard, end tables, desk, and dresser—are all black, and the walls are adorned with black and white photos in various sizes and groupings.
There’s a large window seat decorated in fabric that matches her bed set, and it takes up most of the wall overlooking the back yard. There’s also an open door that reveals an ensuite bathroom and another I assume is a closet.
My suspicions are confirmed when Kay opens the door, turns on the light, and pushes some clothes down one of the racks.
“You can hang your suit in here.” She reaches up to grab the bar before walking back to me and tugging on my tie. “Although, I must say…I do like this look on you. It’s very…”
Her voice trails off as she tries to find the right word. I lift a brow to goad her along.
“Dapper.” She gives me a bashful smile.
I loop my arms around her hips and cup her ass while holding her against me. “Does this mean you want me to ditch my hat?”
“Not a chance in hell.” Her hands move around my neck as she rises up on tiptoes to give me a lingering kiss. “Now hustle up, Caveman. You don’t want my brother to think you’re having your wicked way with me up here, do you?”
God the way this girl can make me laugh while making my dick twitch is amazing.
I watch in appreciation as she bends over to unzip her boots, shooting me a wink over her shoulder when she catches me in the act.
She sits cross-legged in the center of the bed, returning the favor as I change out of my suit and into a pair of gray joggers and black U of J football t-shirt. She laughs every time I toss a piece of my suit at her before arranging each article of clothing on the appropriate hangers.
We’re still laughing as we head back downstairs. I’ve always been a pretty happy guy, and aside from Dad dying when I was too young to really remember, I’ve had a blessed life, but I didn’t fully understand the meaning of true happiness until Kay. She has a way of making even the mundane things feel fuller and more vibrant than before.
We’re met with barking as we clear the last step, a large yellow lab bounding toward us. Kay drops to her knees, throws her arms around the wiggling beast, and runs her hands up and down his back while placing kisses on his head.
“Hi, Herkie, baby.” She laughs as he licks her face. “I was wondering where you were.”
“He was outside trying to kill squirrels.” Bette walks into the living room, sitting down next to E, his arm automatically going around her.
Kay pushes me onto the couch, her back leaning against my side, my arm draped over her shoulder, down her chest, around her waist, and her head resting in the groove where my chest meets my shoulder.
Herkie claims the space by her feet and stretches out alongside her body, basking in the attention she’s giving him. Lucky dog.
“Beer?” E holds out two bottles.
The TV comes back from commercial to the Penn State/Ohio State game, not surprising with E a Nittany Lion alum. I am happy to note they are down by seven at the start of the second half. I don’t dare voice that though, enemy territory and all.
We haven’t been watching long when we hear the front door open and Herkie takes off barking before someone bellows, “DENNINGS!”
“Damn, I really need to get the codes to the house changed,” E jokes before calling out, “Living room, asshole.”
“Love you too, bro. Now where’s my girl?” The voice is distinctly male.
Kay starts chuckling as E responds with, “Stop trying to cradle-rob, asshole.”
There’s no time to form an opinion on that because a figure leans over the back of the couch and pulls Kay from my arms.
“Ahh!” she screeches. “B, put me down.”
Kay hangs upside down by her ankles, punching at the legs of her captor. My eyes travel up to see who her “attacker” is, and I feel a bolt of shock when I lock eyes on Ben Turner, the quarterback for the Baltimore Crabs.
“What? I thought you like being upside down?” he asks Kay.
“When it’s someone I trust not to drop me, yes. You, sir, are not JT,” she retorts.
“What? I’m good with my hands. I handle a football with precision.”
“I’m small, but not that small. Now put me down before I nut-punch you.”
As surreal as the whole thing is, I can’t help but laugh at Kay’s feistiness.
Ben lowers her gently to the ground then lifts her into a hug.
“What are you doing here, B?” Kay climbs over the back of the couch to me.
“It’s a bye week.”
“Bette’s lasagna.”
“Bette’s lasagna,” Ben echoes, proving there’
s a relationship closer than merely a passing friendship because Kay’s his teammate’s sister.
“Don’t feed the strays, Squirt,” E advises. “You’ll never get them to leave if you do.”
“Don’t I know it.” Kay begins tracing the lines of my tattoos. “How else do you think I ended up stuck with the captains of the football team hanging around?”
“Live and learn, little sis. Live and learn.” E points his beer bottle in my direction. “B, this is Kay’s boyfriend Mason. Mason, this idiot here is Ben—or B, if you’re so inclined—our quarterback and, unfortunately, my best friend.”
I hold my hand out to shake while trying to keep myself in check and come to terms with professional athletes being a normal part of everyday life for my girlfriend. The last thing I need is Kay razzing me for fanboying.
B—yup, thinking of him as B too—bends to kiss Bette on the cheek before sitting between her and Kay. “A boyfriend, Little D? Really? Way to break my heart.” He slaps a hand on his chest.
Kay nudges his leg with her foot. “Please, B. You know quarterbacks aren’t my type.” She presses a kiss to my bicep, making the muscle jump.
At the end of the game—Ohio State luckily holding their lead for the win—we start getting ready for dinner. While Kay and Bette set the dining room table, I brace myself for the interrogation I know is coming my way.
“Mase, T’s calling,” Kay says when my phone rings from the living room.
“Answer if you want. He’s probably calling because he’s mad we didn’t hang around after long enough for him to see you too.”
“She calls you Mase?” E asks me speculatively.
“Yeah…?” It comes out as more of a question as I’m unsure what the big deal is.
Across from me, E and B share a look I can’t read.
“Bette’s the only person—at least that she’s super close to—I’ve ever heard her call by their name and not letters.”
“You know I asked her once why she calls Bette, Bette and not B.”
“What did she say?”
“That Bette was special.”