Homewrecker (Into the Flames #1)

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Homewrecker (Into the Flames #1) Page 7

by Cat Mason


  It takes longer for us to find parking and make our way into the stadium than it did to get here. No one can say this town isn’t supportive of our teams. The place is crowded and excited energy floats through the air as I lean over the fence and holler at Gunnar. It takes a few tries to get him to hear me over the screaming people behind me, but when he turns and finds me, he smiles and heads over. When he grips my face to kiss me, his hands are shaking from nerves. All he’s talked about since he was made head coach was not letting the city down like the last coach.

  Gunnar smiles against my lips before pulling away. Yelling over the noise around us, he tells me he loves me before turning his attention to Dixon. “After the shit that happened last year between these team’s crowds, I don’t want her out of your sight.”

  “No worries, man, I won’t let her ass out of my sight,” Dixon shouts back.

  Stepping up next to me, his fingers lace with mine as he pulls me against him. Those words never used to hit me like they do right now, and hopefully I can hide the fact that my entire body just lit up like a firecracker. My hands tremble as Dixon’s thumb begins to trace over the pulse point on my wrist. He knows what he’s doing to me and I don’t even have to open my mouth. Asshole. Why the hell is he doing this shit here of all places?

  Gunnar leans back toward me and I force myself to calm down. He gets his good luck kiss and thankfully heads back to the team before he notices anything is wrong with me. Dixon drags me behind him, looping his arm over my shoulder as we start walking up the bleachers.

  Leaning down, he presses his lips against my ear without stopping. “In that fuckin’ skirt, Kennedy, I plan to stick to my word and not let your ass out of my sight. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you wore it just to taunt me.”

  Wide-eyed, I turn and stare at him. He’s close enough that I could just lean in and kiss him, and based on the look in his eyes, that’s exactly what he wants. If it weren’t for the thousands of people around us, and the fact that my husband could turn around and see, I would. I have no idea what the hell is going on between us, but it looks like it’s time to find out. I’m torn between right and wrong, between need and want. I can’t help reliving that night in my head. The way his hands felt on me, his mouth. Dixon didn’t treat me like a piece of glass, he wasn’t afraid to shatter me. My pulse quickens as we take another step and he still doesn’t look away.

  "What happened to feeling bad for what happened?"

  He waits until we're seated, making sure we're completely surrounded by people we don't know who are still standing, before he says anything. Turning to me, he presses his lips to my ear again and the heat of his breath makes my pulse flutter.

  "Don't doubt that I feel like a piece of shit, but I can't help it." Dixon's hand settles on my bare thigh and his fingers slip under the edge of my skirt. "Even though I know I shouldn't, it's hard not to want you now that I know what I've been missin’. I won’t lie and say I don’t want you, because I do.

  "I don't even know what to say to that."

  "I'm not worried about what you're going to say, Kennedy. I'm wonderin’ what you plan on lettin’ me do about it."

  I grab his hand, halting his assent up my thigh. "I don't want to hurt Gunnar." The words tumble out of my mouth before I even think about them, but it's the truth. It doesn't matter how much I want to explore how Dixon made me feel, I don't want to hurt Gunnar. Even thinking those words makes me feel like a hypocrite. I can't have both. It has to be one thing or the other, right?

  The crowd around us jumps and the screaming escalates as the players rush the field, saving me from whatever Dixon opened his mouth to say. I turn my attention back to what I'm here for: to support Gunnar and the team. I keep my eyes on the game, but I don’t need to look over to know Dixon is staring at me, I can feel the heat from his gaze.

  When halftime rolls around, and the teams disappear back into the locker rooms to regroup, I stand up and attempt to shuffle past Dixon. Grabbing my hips, he pulls me down into his lap before I have a chance to get past him. Thankfully nobody is paying attention, and even if they were, this isn't the first time I've been on Dixon's lap. Being such a close knit group has its advantages sometimes. I close my eyes, taking a deep breath when he shifts his hips under me and I feel him begin to harden.

  "Where the fuck do you think you're goin'?"

  "Bathroom," I gasp, choking on my breath as his hips shift causing his cock to roll into my ass.

  "Not alone, you aren't. I saw the shit that went down here last year. When I said you wouldn't leave my sight, I meant it."

  I roll my eyes in frustration, but stand and hold my hand out for him. There's no use fighting him on it, I know I'll lose. After making it to the bottom of the bleachers, I pull us toward the lines beginning to form, but Dixon drags me in the other direction.

  "Dixon, where the hell are we going? I have to pee!"

  When we reach the back side of the stands, he continues pulling me until we're close enough for him to spin me and pin my back against the concrete wall holding them up. His hands settle on my hips as he presses his body against me. Having him this close, knowing he's probably going to touch me more than what he is already, and knowing Gunnar is nearby makes my body tremble. My head is screaming for me to run like hell, but my body has other ideas.

  "I don't wanna hurt Gunnar either, but I can't stop thinkin’ about touchin’ you again. He's my best friend, and wantin’ you makes me feel like the biggest piece of shit in the world, but it doesn't make it go away."

  "What are you saying, Dixon?"

  Reaching up, he scrubs his hands over the dark stubble lining his jaw and blows out a frustrated breath. "What I'm sayin’ is every time I see you, I can't stop myself from imagining bendin’ you over and buryin’ my cock inside you. I wanna feel you fall apart for me again. I have to know if it was the alcohol or if it was somethin’ more than that."

  I hesitate for a minute before realizing that honesty is probably the way I should go right now. "I've been wondering the same thing since it happened."

  "Give me one more time." He shrugs. “I have to know for sure."

  My heart is hammering in my chest. Can it just be that simple? Could we do it again and it mean nothing? "Just sex, no feelings, no guilt? Can it be that simple, Dixon? I have to know that this doesn't change anything between us, or me and Gunnar. It's just to make sure it was because of the alcohol, then this is over."

  Dixon presses the length of his body against mine, forcing my back to arch against the wall. His lips cover mine and his tongue slides between them, teasing me with a taste him mixed with cigarettes before pulling away. He shakes his head like he's trying to talk himself out of this, but he ignores wherever his thoughts were headed and slides his hand under my skirt. I squeeze my legs together, suddenly remembering that I really have to use the bathroom. As if he can read my mind, he chuckles.

  "Trust me, you don't want to walk away from me right now to go stand in the bathroom line. When you're screamin’ my name it'll be even better with a full bladder." I look at him like he's crazy, but he doesn't seem to care as he slides his thigh between my legs to keep them apart and plunges his fingers into me. I'm not sure what made me leave the panties in the dresser, but I'm suddenly glad I did. "Fuckin' hell, Kennedy. You're not making this easy for me."

  I drop my head back against the wall, trying to stay quiet even though I know that no one will be able to hear us over the crowd. "I don't want it easy, Dixon. It has to be just like last time."

  Finger fucking me with one hand, his other hand travels up my body until it settles against my throat. The light down here is minimum, but it shows me enough of his face to let me know that he's holding back because he isn't sure that this is what I want. I lay my hand over his on my neck and put pressure on it. I know he wants to squeeze, to see how far he can take this with me, and I'm wondering the same thing. The pressure on my neck when he finally flexes his fingers sends a rush of heat through m
y body. Closing my eyes, I let myself fall into that feeling of euphoria, forgetting for the time being that I'm married and my husband could find us at any time if he came looking.

  Dixon's fingers hit spots inside of me that have me sitting on edge faster than I thought possible, and based on the look on his face, he knows it. The closer I get, the tighter his fingers grip my neck and the harder it gets to breathe. I know that should scare me but it doesn't. Dixon's eyes never leave mine and instead of being scared because it's hard to breathe, it's a turn on, and I trust him enough to know he will stop before things get too far.

  My jaw quivers when he starts playing with my clit, and I moan when he loosens his grip for a second. He smiles down at me before adjusting his hand a bit and kisses me again. My fingers wrap around his wrist, holding onto him as he makes me feel things I never knew I could.

  "Please," I beg when he pulls back and slides his hand down so he's barely putting pressure on my chest. I'm not even sure what I'm begging for, but I know I need more than what he's giving me right now. I slowly fill my lungs because I know the second these words come out of my mouth, there's no turning back. I also know that there’s no way I can walk away without knowing for sure. I need this. "Please fuck me, Dixon."

  Dixon growls. Spinning me around, he pins my chest to the wall and drags his teeth across my earlobe.

  "Say it again. I want to hear my name come out of your filthy mouth while you beg for my cock again."

  As he waits for me to speak he drives his fingers back into me, pulling them out only long enough to press them against my asshole. I whimper. As much as I don't want to admit it, that's one more thing Dixon was right about that morning.

  "Please fuck me, Dixon." I say again, this time with more force behind my words. His hand disappears from my ass and I feel the air rush against my skin when he shifts my skirt out of the way. He leans into me and his knuckles drag down my ass as he lowers the zipper on his jeans.

  "That's it, Kennedy. I had to know you really wanted it to be me inside of you." Dixon's breath skims my cheek as he lines the head of his cock up with my entrance, and I clench in anticipation. "It really is such a shame that this perfect ass is still virgin territory, because I'd kill for a game of one, two, three with you."

  "One, two, three?" I ask, forcing my question out instead of bucking back on his cock.

  Gripping my chin, he pulls my face toward him and kisses me, plunging his tongue into my mouth quickly. "Yeah. Three holes, three ways to play." With a quick thrust of his hips he's in me, stealing my breath and ability to think. "I could fuck your mouth, which I'm dyin’ to do by the way. Then switch to your pussy until you scream, and then I'd fuck your ass until you can't think straight." Standing up straight, Dixon wraps my hair around his hand, pulling me back until my back is arched enough that I can see him and begins thrusting into me, slamming his hips against my ass. "The second way," he says without missing a beat or losing eye contact, "keeps your perfect lips wrapped around my cock while I eat your pussy and finger your ass. The third way involves my cock in your mouth again, but it involves a vibrator in your pussy while I tongue fuck your ass until you pass out from pleasure. Hell... maybe I'd fuck your ass with a toy at the same time too."

  His words are my undoing and I cry out his name, completely forgetting there are people around that could hear me. The intensity of my orgasm catches me off guard and my knees buckle.

  "Yeah," he laughs as his hips speed up even more. "I think you'd like havin’ both your pussy and ass fucked at the same time. I figured that would be the one to get you."

  He thrusts into me one final time before stilling. I feel him swell and throb inside me as he comes. That's when I realize just how screwed I am, because if anything, this time was even better than the last, and this solved nothing. All it did was cement the need to have him inside me again.

  "Shit," he mutters as we try to catch our breath.

  The crowd above us starts to scream again, letting us know the teams are back on the field. Pulling out of me, Dixon leaves me feeling empty and confused as we situate our clothes. He kisses me roughly before shuffling me off to the restrooms to get cleaned up so we can get back to our seats before anyone notices we're missing.

  By the time the game is over I am hoarse from screaming, Gunnar is soaked from the cooler being dumped over his head, and we are one winning game into the season. Thoughts of what Dixon and I did beneath the bleachers run through my mind on replay. I attempt to push them from my mind, wanting to just sort through them another day, but they don’t completely fade. Especially not with Dixon watching me and the look in his eyes says he isn’t forgetting about it anytime soon either. It’s only made things more confusing for me and he doesn’t look much better.

  The minute we spot Gunnar coming out of the locker room, he smiles and holds out his arms for me. Forcing a smile, I remind myself why I’m here. Gunnar, this is Gunnar’s night. I won’t ruin it by letting him think there is anything going on. I don’t want him to notice that my mind is racing with a million different thoughts that would all hurt him if he could read it.

  Pulling my hand free from Dixon’s, I run and wrap myself around him. “Great game, Coach.”

  Dropping his bag to his feet, Gunnar wraps his arms around me. “Thanks, it was a helluva third quarter. Had me sweatin’ bullets until I put Chapman in the game.”

  Dixon throws up a hand and waves before disappearing into the crowd headed for the exit. “Where’s he runnin’ off to?” Gunnar asks, wrapping an arm around me.

  I shrug. “Who the hell knows? It’s Friday night, he’s probably got something lined up.”

  “Or someone.” Gunnar chuckles, leading me down the field toward the lot beside the field house where he parks his truck. “I wouldn’t trade places with him for anything,” Gunnar says kissing my cheek. “I’ve got all I could ever want right here.”

  “Take me home, Coach. It’s time to celebrate your big win.” Flinging open the driver side door of Gunnar’s truck, I hop in and scoot over to make room for him.

  The entire drive home, Gunnar drums his thumbs on the steering wheel, the adrenaline from the game still pumping through his veins. It is a drug to him, always has been. The thrill of chasing the win. He knows what each player is capable of and pushes them beyond it, making them better. Making them winners all while he stands on the side lines proud as hell of every kid who suits up.

  Stopping through a drive-thru, we grab bacon cheeseburgers, fries, and vanilla milkshakes before heading home. The minute we walk through the door, the phone is ringing off the hook. “You might as well grab that, Coach. It’s for you anyway.”

  “Yeah, then we can find a movie. I want to spend the night enjoyin’ my wife,” he says with a wink. Shit! I can still feel and smell Dixon on me. Gunnar tosses the bags to the counter before grabbing the cordless phone from the base. “Hello?” he asks, as I round the counter. “Oh hey, Dad! Yeah, it was a great game.”

  I mouth to Gunnar that I’m going to head in and shower before I eat and he waves me off with a nod. Heading up the hall and into the bathroom, I make quick work of stripping off my clothes and climbing into the steaming hot water as fast as I can. Gunnar could easily talk to his dad all night, but I’m not taking any chances on him slipping in behind me before I feel clean again.

  Yeah, like that will ever happen. The moment Dixon put his hands on you, he left his mark, an invisible scorch that you can’t wash away no matter how hard you try. You won’t be able to run from this, Kennedy, not now.

  Pressing my forehead against the cool tiles, I let the hot water run over me, washing away tonight’s betrayal. The only problem is, nothing can clear away the visons burned into my brain. Images that as much as I know I should want to forget, I can’t. I felt like a different person. I was a different person, and with all the thoughts waging war inside my head right now, I’m afraid that I’ll never be the same again.

  Just as I step out of the shower and wrap a t
owel around me, Gunnar opens the door and yanks his shirt over his head. “Hey, I was hopin’ you were still in there,” he says, waggling his brows. Wrapping his arms around me, he kisses the tip of my nose. “I’ll be five minutes. Meet you on the sofa.”

  The rest of the night is spent curled up under a blanket watching Adam Sandler movies while we eat our late dinner and toast Gunnar’s first official win as coach with milkshakes. Forcing myself to relax and enjoy a rare date night with my husband during football season, I lie back between Gunnar’s legs and push Dixon from my mind, falling asleep as his fingers run through my hair.

  Yanking open the blinds, I let the sun into our dark bedroom. Gunnar groans, pulling the covers over his head, and rolls onto my side of the bed. “Kennedy, come on, babe, it’s Saturday.”

  Jumping onto the bed, I bounce across the mattress. “It’s Saturday! Get up, sleepy ass, we’re going to have some fun.”

  “Lyin’ in bed with take out and a Netflix movie marathon sounds like a great way to have fun,” he mumbles into the pillow. Reaching an arm out from under the covers, he grabs my waist and yanks me beneath him. “Especially if we’re naked.”

  When I woke up this morning, all I could think about was getting out and having fun with Gunnar today. Away from the house, out of town, and just have us time. No, phones, no work, nothing that will get in the way. I want to prove to myself that all we need is us. I know that if I try hard enough I can find a way to be happy with this and that I don’t need anything Dixon can give me. I need to clear my head and there is only one way to do that.

  “I need water, Gunnar.” Running my fingers along his bare arms, I stare up into his eyes, silently begging him for this. “Fresh air, the cool water, and the sun. Let’s go to the lake.”

 

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