by Lane Hart
“Yeah, and if it wasn’t for you blackmailing her with that shit, I’d still be fucking Holly instead of living with Addison, wouldn’t I?”
My fists are balled up at my sides, begging to punch this motherfucker in the face.
"Keep your hands off Addison or Jerry's getting those tapes. My word against yours. This is your last fucking warning," he says before walking away.
I’m still fuming after I shower and drive home, unable to figure out what pisses me off more, him telling me I can’t touch Addy or him threatening to end my football career that I’ve worked my ass off for. For some reason, him warning me to keep my hands off her only makes me want to put them on her even more. She’s gotten hotter every day this week. After the three nights in a row we’ve come home after dinner, I’ve been dying to drag her to my bed and fuck the smartass out of her. Hell, I want her to take all that feistiness out on me while we’re both naked. But now…
Walking into the house I slam the front door, needing some place to channel my anger.
“Jeez, Jake. You scared the shit out of me. Why are you slamming doors?” Addy asks when she steps out of the kitchen. And Goddamn it, she’s sexy as fuck. In a tiny ass white dress and white heels, I’m momentarily stunned, wondering if she’s wearing white panties, or any panties for that matter since the damn dress is practically see-through. Not that I can find out now. Stupid asshole lawyer!
“Because it’s my fucking house,” I mutter, heading to the fridge to grab a beer.
“Fine, be a jerk,” she grumbles from the doorway. “Are you hungry? Is that why you're grumpy? Where are we going for dinner?”
Yes, I am hungry, but I don’t want to go out. Not if I can't touch her.
“We’re not going out, and what’s with all the goddamn questions like I’m on trial?”
“Um, I’m not sure why you’re pissed, but you need to stop redirecting your anger at me.”
“Oh, for the love of God. Enough with the psychobabble bullshit! Could you just not run your fucking know-it-all-mouth for like five minutes?”
“Fuck you,” she snaps before taking off down the hall.
Damn, finally a moment of silence, even if I hate having her pissed at me. And holy fuck, I hope she changes out of that dress before my balls explode. I take my beer into the living room, and have just sat down with the remote in my hand when she shrieks.
“Seriously, Jake-ass! It only take two seconds to change the fucking toilet paper roll. Two! Or do you think that you’re so damn special that you’re above such menial tasks? Common freaking courtesy! Don’t you have your own damn bathroom?!? Why were you using mine?”
I close my eyes when my head feels like it’s going to explode. A minute later she’s storming into the living room and falling backwards with a huff on the couch. Which causes her short ass dress to ride up and my cock to swell. Bitch.
“If it’s so damn easy to change the roll, then why all the bitching?” I ask.
“You’re such a jerk,” she grumbles right as the doorbell rings.
Who the fuck? Since Addy doesn’t make a move to get it, I haul my tired ass out of the chair and go jerk the door open. I’m surprised to see Zack standing on the stoop, but at the same time I’m hoping he might want to hit up a bar and get drunk.
"What's up?" I finally say in greeting.
"Not a damn thing. You busy?" Zack asks looking over my shoulder into the house. Dammit. Addy’s gonna probably lose her shit meeting him, just like every other woman.
"Fuck no,” I respond then yell loud enough for her to hear me, “Unless you consider getting yelled out by a batshit crazy cunt about changing the roll of toilet paper busy.”
"I heard that, you asshole!" her raised voice carries.
Here goes nothing. I hold the door open for him. "Come in and meet the bitch. She's so fucking sweet it hurts." I don’t want Zack to encourage her, and I want him to think she's nuts so that he'll stay away from her.
I follow him into the living room where he stops short when he sees Addy. He’s probably thinking the same thing I did. She doesn’t look anything like you’d imagine Satan’s daughter.
"Holy shit!" Addy exclaims, quickly scrambling to her feet while practically drooling. "You didn't tell me Zack Bradford was coming over, honey. I would've put on something nice."
"Oh, baby, the only thing nicer than what you're wearing right now would be nothing at all," Zack tells her, making her face flush and red lips part on a gasp.
Fucking great. Of course he’d have to hit on her. Like having all the women in the world fall to their knees for him isn’t enough. But Addy’s not like all the rest. She’s a classy woman that doesn’t go around fucking asshole football players just because they’re famous. This I know for a fact, so he can have at it.
"Good fucking luck," I snort when I slouch back down into my chair and start flipping through channels as a distraction. “She’s colder than ice, man.” I try to warn him away. “And quit the act, bitch. He knows you're paid to be here."
I can practically feel her hatred burning through the back of my head.
"Addison, right?" Zack asks.
"Sure am. It's really nice to meet you. I'm a huge fan," she says, making me scoff and roll my eyes.
"It's nice to meet you, too. Really nice," Zack says, sounding way too fucking flirty for my liking. He’s gonna be pissed when she actually shoots him down for probably the first time in his life.
"Can I get you anything? Maybe a drink?" Addy asks, and is it just me or does her voice suddenly sound…sultrier?
"Rum and coke?" Zack ask.
"Coming right up," she says, and that definitely sounded more breathy before I hear them walk into the kitchen.
I can’t make out their conversation, but I’m sure Zack’s putting his best moves on Addy. She'll likely be star struck and flattered, but ultimately she'll decline. I’ll never hear the end of it.
I turn the volume down on the TV when I notice how quiet it is. Nothing. Not a sound. Time to go investigate.
There’s an empty glass on the kitchen counter but neither Addy nor Zack are around. No, no, no. I walk down the hall and don’t hear any talking. Wait, was that a whimper?
“Ah, Zack!”
You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!
It feels like a fist nailing me in the gut when I get to the door and see them. Addy’s on her back, dress hiked up to her waist, thighs spread around Zack's shoulders while he eats her pussy like a starving man.
"What the fuck?" I exclaim in shock, but Zack barely acknowledges my presence with an over the shoulder glance before he lifts her hips and goes back to tongue fucking her.
And Addy...God she’s so damn gorgeous, and the sounds she’s making as she grabs handfuls of the comforter are the sexiest things I’ve ever heard. Then she’s looking over at me still standing in the doorway. Her amber eyes are clouded with lust, and her lips part as she gasps and moans. Seeing another man pleasure her is almost enough to bring me to my knees. My throat suddenly tightens, and the lack of oxygen makes me sway on my feet. I grab onto the dresser to keep myself upright.
I’ve seen Zack fuck lots of women, and fucked plenty with him, which is how I ended up with a fake girlfriend. Of course I’ve been jealous of him before, what man isn’t? But right now, in this moment, even if he is my best friend, I have the insane urge to beat his ass into the ground for touching her. For putting his fucking mouth on her. For making her no better than all the other sluts he’s fucked. I thought Addy was different. That she was classy, with morals and shit. Apparently not when it comes to letting Zack Bradford get between her thighs.
I hold Addy’s gaze until her eyes close with her cries that become more frequent. Arching her back off the mattress, her entire body trembles with her release.
Zack flops his ass down on the bed beside her when she finishes convulsing, and I want to knock the smug look right of his face. He’s watching me with a furrowed brow like he’s trying to figure out my
reaction. Usually I’d join him or at least encourage him, not stand frozen in jealousy as I watch him pleasure a woman with barely contained rage. Oh but now that he’s out of the way, Addy’s pussy is completely exposed and glistening, making me want to kill someone for a fucking taste. Preferably Zack.
"You're wrong about her being a frigid bitch, Jake,” Zack finally says with a smirk. “Her pussy is so damn hot, I think she burned my tongue."
"Fuck you," I snarl, unable to look away from Addy's pussy as I imagine myself eating her, fucking her. She glances over at me with an expression I can't decipher, confusion or embarrassment maybe, before she climbs on top of Zack, now flashing me her incredible ass. Going right for his cock, she doesn’t waste time yanking his black boxer-briefs down to pull it out and cover him with her mouth.
Despite my cock swelling so hard I see starbursts in my vision, Zack doesn’t make a sound, and watching his face he doesn’t even look like he’s enjoying himself. In fact, he looks stricken, wincing as if he’s uncomfortable. Like Addy’s a disgusting ninety-year-old woman he’s forced to endure, not a hot as fuck temptress any man would eagerly beg to have suck him off. Then I remember him bitching about his cock not always working lately, making me snicker. The almighty Zack Bradford can’t get his dick up when a gorgeous woman is trying her best to blow him.
"Sorry, sweetheart, but it looks like you're shit out of luck. His cock is broken," I tell Addy to try to convince her to stop torturing me.
"Take your peeping Tom ass out of here," she quickly replies in dismissal without a backward glance in my direction. "Maybe he doesn't like having an asshole audience."
"Oh, darling, you have no idea how many women we've watched each other fuck, and fucked at the same time. He just doesn't want you." I blurt out the words to hurt her before getting the hell out of there.
Chapter Nine
Addison
I quickly try and blink away the tears in my eyes before they fall.
"Addison, he's full of shit," Zack freaking Bradford assures me while running his hand through his perfect sandy blonde hair. "You're a beautiful woman, and I…he's right about my cock being broken. I just can't get out of my own head..."
Shocked and embarrassed doesn't even begin to describe how I feel at this moment, in a bed with the sexiest man on the planet. A man who isn't attracted to me. He doesn’t want me and Jake hates me. It's turning into a great night. But if Zack is actually telling the truth, it's not me, then what's the problem? He wants someone else? Trying to push my emotions aside and think logically, there's no way a guy like him would openly admit to having erectile dysfunction if he could just say he thinks I'm ugly. And since he's only in his mid-twenties, in the best shape of his life, it must be an emotional issue rather than a physical problem resulting in his inability to get an erection.
"Is it that blonde woman?" I ask him, hoping for some explanation to heal my bruised ego. "The one you've been seen making out with everywhere?" Next to Jake and me in the Lifestyles section of the paper, there have been a ton of photos of Zack and a beautiful little blonde woman. The way the couple have been seen making out like they’re two seconds away from tearing each other's clothes off, why the heck is he here with me instead of with her?
I climb up the bed, lying on my stomach next to him, waiting for his response and praying I'm right.
"The stubborn woman refused to date me, so I pursued her until I convinced her, or basically bribed her, to go on a handful of dates with me. Then she fucks me a few times before suddenly kicking me out of her apartment. Oh, and after that, I got the whole, 'let's just be friends' spiel. Just now, I gave in to my better judgment and went by her place and saw her leaving on a date with some asshole!" The long, rambling speech comes gushing out of his mouth like he's been thinking about her for a while. He actually seems really upset and genuinely confused by her rejection. He's not the only one.
"Wow. What's wrong with her?" I ask in all seriousness. Who wouldn't want this man? "Oh I know, she's blind, right?"
Zack scrubs both hands over his face and shakes his head. "No, she's not blind."
"Mentally incompetent?"
"Nope."
"Then I have no fucking clue. Except..." I start and hesitate before being brutally honest with the hottest man alive.
"What?" he asks.
"You are known for being a player. Maybe she just doesn't want to be played," I explain as gently as possible. Is that why I'm hesitating with Jake? Because I'm afraid he'll hurt me? Hell, I know he'll hurt me. He does so on a daily basis and we're not even sleeping together!
"I thought I went out of my way to show her I wasn't trying to play her," Zack grumbles.
"Sorry, but I have no further advice, and I'm a freaking expert. Psychiatrist," I tell him with a sympathetic smile.
"I bet Jake keeps you busy with all his psychotic bullshit." Zack chuckles.
"You have no idea. I'm starting to think the man might just be pure evil."
"And yet your dad got you to agree to live with him and date him for several weeks?" he asks.
"I'm using the money he's paying me to start my own practice and get a little publicity. He needed a non-slut. You're not going to…tell anyone about this, are you?" I suddenly worry that I've been running my mouth and now it's going to bite me in the ass.
"Hell no. I hope you'll keep my problems to yourself, too."
"Of course, doctor-patient confidentiality," I assure him. "Too bad they didn't hook me up to be your fake girlfriend."
"Yeah," he replies with a sigh, and I know he's lying. Despite what he just did, there's only one woman he wants. I was nothing more than an attempt for him to try and get over her. Oh, silly football player. Doesn't he know that's not how it works?
"You could fuck a million women, but if she's the one, you'll never forget her," I tell him. "Maybe you shouldn't give up on her so soon. Either she's worth the challenge or she's not. But when the day comes that Zack Bradford can't get the girl, then there's no chance for any other man," I tease.
"Maybe you're right." He sighs, and I can hear the regret in his words. He's not the only one. "I better go."
"Good luck," I say to him as he climbs off the bed and starts to redress.
"Thanks," Zack replies with a small, sad smile before leaving my room.
…
Jake doesn't speak to me Saturday, not that he was home much, or Sunday morning before his one o'clock game. Why that makes me feel like shit, I'm not sure, but it does.
I get to the stadium jersey-less, in my jeans and women’s Wildcat tee, an hour early, pick up my ticket under the same name, "Bitch" and take my seat next to Jake's brothers.
"Holy shit!" the oldest one, Jordan, says while I settle in with a tray of nachos. "You again? How the hell is that possible?"
"What can I say? I'm a keeper," I mutter on an exhale.
"Trouble in paradise?" he asks.
"Huh? No, of course not. Jake and I are awesome."
"Bullshit."
"I had no idea that pain-in-the-ass was a hereditary condition," I tell him, making him chuckle.
"Oh, so you're saying Jake's in the doghouse?"
"Nope," I reply, then quickly shove a cheese covered chip into my mouth.
"Yeah he is. What'd he do?" Jordan asks.
"It wasn't him that messed up, it was me," I admit honestly.
"Have you apologized?"
"No."
"Why the hell not?" he asks.
I shrug my shoulders.
"So Jake's mad at you?"
"Uh-huh," I keep filling my mouth with chips to avoid having to give more specific answers to his probing questions.
"And you're upset that he's mad at you, but you haven't apologized?"
I shrug my shoulders again.
Jordan sighs heavily and shifts in his seat. "A&W root beer and apple pie," he says softly.
"Ah, what?"
"If you want him to forgive you those are his favorites. But you shou
ld already know that since you're his girlfriend."
"I don't think all the root beer and pie in the city could mend this."
"You cheated on him!?!" he exclaims, and I quickly shush him as my face starts to burn. What is this guy, psychic? "You did. Damn. And he’s still keeping you around?"
I don't respond to that comment since I’m only still around because it’s required.
"Well, you know what you need to do, right? Eye for an eye."
"What!?!" Now it's my turn to exclaim. He thinks I should let Jake sleep with someone else? Oh crap. Just the thought of Jake with other woman feels like my chest is being crushed. Is this how he felt seeing me with Zack? If so, no wonder he’s upset. I didn’t think he gave a shit about me, but…maybe he does.
"Hey, it's only fair," Jordan replies.
"That's not...you don't know what you're talking about." There’s no way I’m going to offer to bring a girl home for him to screw. Hell no. But I could offer him myself. I want him, even though he’s infuriating and immature. The question is, does he actually want me, too? Only one way to find out.
Chapter Ten
Jake
Zack killed it today, and seems back to his old self. He and his fake girlfriend, who is a breast cancer survivor, had a helluva photo op in the center of the field during halftime. He doesn't do anything half-assed, and I bet Jerry is ecstatic with the positive PR.
After the game, Zack disappeared so I decide to head straight home instead of going out to celebrate. I’m just not in the mood, still angry at Addy for fucking Zack. Him I expected it from, but from her...why do I even give a shit? Because she won’t fuck me? Because I want her and can’t have her?
Walking through the front door, I'm hit with that incredible apple pie smell again, making my stomach grumble. I step into the kitchen and a whole, untouched pie sits temptingly on the kitchen island.
This has to be a trap.
I glance around the empty room and decide she probably, most likely, wouldn't actually poison me. I grab a plate and a knife to dig into it, noticing the foil is still warm like it's right out of the oven. When the hell did she have time to bake a damn pie? Didn't she come to the game? I'd intentionally avoided her section at the stadium. I'm still fuming from Friday night and can’t even bear to look at her.