by B. B. Hamel
“Come over. It’s important.”
I sighed, staring at my phone. All I wanted was to shower and to eat something, but seeing Owen again was too tempting.
“Okay,” I said. “Give me a half hour.”
“Fine. See you soon.”
I didn’t know what was happening, but I figured it was about his conversation with Coach after practice. Everyone had heard about that. Whenever the coach called someone in alone, word spread like wildfire. That always meant someone was getting bumped up or down in the roster, or some other huge change was looming. Coach Kelly usually sent the assistant coaches out for less important things.
I wasn’t letting myself speculate. It could have been the worst, or it could have just been Coach giving Owen a pep talk. Sure, that wasn’t normal for Kelly, but I just wasn’t letting myself play the speculation game. It could have been anything, and I was going to wait for Owen to tell me about it.
It was probably a bad sign that he was summoning me to his apartment. Still, I was going to go of course, because he needed me. I quickly ate something and got changed. I put on a cute dress and did my hair just in time to get downstairs and meet the car out front.
We drove over to Owen’s apartment building. I got out and headed inside. The doorman let me right up, probably because he recognized me from before. I knocked on Owen’s door, and he let me in a minute later.
He smiled as I walked in. He was wearing a tight black T-shirt and cut-off jean shorts, plus an ice pack taped to his knee.
“You look good,” he said.
“You do too.” I laughed. “Jorts? Really?”
“They’re my fucking lounge clothes.”
“Still, come on.”
“You’re just jealous I can pull them off.”
“Not exactly.”
He motioned for me to follow. I sat down at the kitchen table. “Want anything to drink?”
I shrugged. “Wine?”
“Coming right up.” He pulled a bottle of white from his refrigerator, opened it, and poured me a glass. He got a bottle of whisky from a cabinet and poured himself a drink.
“So, Owen, am I just here to drink, or did you want to talk?”
He laughed. “Drink first.” We clinked glasses and drank. He sat down across from me.
“You said it was important,” I pressed.
“I had a weird talk earlier today.”
“I heard.”
He cocked his head. “You heard?”
“Everyone was talking about it.”
He looked horrified. “You’re joking.”
“No, I mean, it’s okay. Everyone knows all about it. Nobody seemed to really care, though. This sort of thing is common in the league.”
He looked like I had just punched a baby in the face. “People were just talking about it out in the open?”
I was confused. “Sure. It’s nothing to be upset about. He calls people back to his office all the time.”
Owen blinked. “Wait. What are you talking about?”
I stared at him, confused as hell. “What are you talking about?”
“Raylon.”
“Raylon? I’m talking about Coach Kelly.”
“What? Who the fuck cares about Coach Kelly?”
“You were called into his office,” I said, exasperated. “He only does that when it’s something important.”
“Shit,” he said. “I totally forgot about that.”
“What about Raylon?”
“Wait. The conversation with Coach—it was fine. He just told me that he’s resting me while I heal up.”
“Okay, good. I hoped it was something like that.” I shook my head, laughing softly. “But what were you talking about with Raylon?”
“You’re not going to believe this.”
“Just say it.”
“Raylon knows about the mob shit.”
I stared at him for a second and then took a long drink. “You’re right. I kind of don’t believe you.”
“It’s real,” he said. “I left Coach’s office and Raylon came toward me. He told me to do what Tony wants me to do, and that plenty of guys are owned by the mob. He’s one of them.”
I shook my head, completely shocked. Raylon had such a good reputation in the league. I couldn’t imagine him being owned by the mafia. He was considered to be one of the best backs of all time, plus a really solid guy.
And here he was, owned by the mob.
“What else did he say?” I asked.
“Just that lots of guys have mob connections. He said Kennings will come around. Wanted me to go along with what Tony said.”
“Wow.” I shook my head, at a loss.
“That’s how I felt.”
“He’s such a good guy.”
“Thanks,” Owen said, sarcastic.
“That’s not what I meant.”
“I know. I had the same reaction.” He shook his head, finishing his drink. “Fucking Raylon.”
“Who else does the mob have?”
“He didn’t say and I didn’t ask. I want out, not further in.”
“That’s fair.”
“But this makes me wonder just how much power they have. I mean, could I even get away if I wanted to?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “This just keeps getting crazier.”
“Imagine how I feel.” He topped off his drink and sipped it. “Maybe I should just do it. Maybe to get ahead in this fucked-up league, you need mafia connections.”
“Owen,” I said, reaching my hands out, “stop. If you want out, get out.”
He looked back at me. “It’s not easy.”
“I know it isn’t.”
He sighed and leaned forward, taking my hands.
“What should I do?”
“Get out,” I said. “I can tell it’s what you want. You hate these guys. You hate being owned by them. It’s not who you are. Get out, Owen.”
“Even if the whole league is corrupt and the mafia owns them all?”
“Especially for that reason. Owen, if you want to be above it all, be above it.”
He stared into my eyes, intense and expressive. “I don’t know how to be above shit. I’ve been down with the rest of the world my whole life.”
“Not anymore. You’re a professional athlete, one of the best in the world. You don’t need to hold yourself back anymore.”
He nodded slowly. “Okay.”
“Okay?”
“I’m not going to do it. Someone else will just be sent after Kennings, but it won’t be me.”
“What are you going to do instead?”
He released my hands and stood up. “I don’t know, but I do know something.”
“What?”
He walked around the table and knelt down in front of me. He stared into my eyes, put his hand on the back of my neck, and then kissed me hard.
I kissed him back, desire flooding my body.
This was what I wanted, what I always wanted. He kissed me hard, pulling me against him, and I fell forward. He dropped backward, and I landed on top of him, smiling and laughing as we kissed on his kitchen floor. I felt his hands slide up my dress and grab my ass as I ground my hips down into him.
This was joy. This was what it meant to be happy. I didn’t know how he was going to get out of his situation, and neither did he, but I felt like celebrating anyway. Just deciding that he was going to do something about it was a huge step, and in the right direction, too.
It was true. He didn’t owe anyone anything, and he didn’t have to keep holding himself back. He didn’t deserve to be owned by the mob just because of some stupid mistake he made when he was a young man. It was all so messed up and frustrating, but I felt good finally kissing him again and knowing that he was going to get out of it.
I believed in him. Somehow, he was going to get out of it.
I kissed him harder, our mouths working together as he rolled over, putting my back on the floor. He pinned my hands down above my head, a smirk on h
is face.
“Is this why you wanted to come over?”
“Yes,” I breathed.
His other hand moved down my body and roughly pulled my panties down my hips. I gasped as he found my pussy with his fingers, rubbing my clit and slowly sliding them inside me.
I groaned as he fucked me with his fingers, pinning me down to the floor. He was big, so damn big, and he easily kept me pressed and immobile. I moaned as his body held me there and he worked my pussy. I knew he could do anything he wanted to do, and I would let him.
He loosened his grip on my wrists and I worked them free. I quickly moved my hands down and found his hard cock, pulling his shorts down. He grunted as I grasped him, stroking him. My legs were spread wide as he continued to work my soaking, slick pussy with his fingers, fucking me and teasing my clit.
He pulled his fingers back and slid himself up. I opened my mouth and took his cock between my lips as he held my head by my hair. He pressed his cock deep into my throat, making me gag.
“Fuck, Taylor, you’re so fucking sexy with my cock between your lips.” I moaned as he pressed himself in and out, fucking my mouth. “You dirty fucking girl. Suck that cock.”
I used my hand to jerk his shaft while he pressed his cock deep into my mouth. I gagged, and he pulled out as I gasped. He pulled me by the hair up to his lips and kissed me hard before slowly sliding down my body and pulling my panties the rest of the way off.
He spread my legs wide and began to tongue my clit, working my wet pussy. I moaned, rolling my hips, and let him lick me. I felt his warm tongue slide inside me as I groaned, my head tipped back.
His tongue rolled around my pussy like that, sliding in and tipping out, sucking and licking my clit. I moaned, my hips rolling. I laced my fingers through his hair and gripped him as he ate me, pleasure rocking through my body.
I pressed his face down harder against me, and he responded by licking me faster, like a starving man. I loved the feeling of his stubble against my sensitive skin. It sent tingles racing down my spine, every inch of me aroused and on fire.
Finally, he pulled back. He moved up me and grabbed my wrists again, putting them above my head. I felt his cock press against me.
“Beg,” he said. “Beg for my fucking cock.”
“Fuck me, Owen,” I said, needing it, needing him to take me. “Make me yours.”
I felt his cock press inside my pussy, spreading me wide open, filling me up. He slid himself deep inside me and then thrust once, twice, pumping hard. I groaned, and he put a hand over my mouth, dampening the sound as he began to fuck me harder.
He held me down like that, and I felt completely controlled. His cock filled my tight little pussy as he slammed into me, violent and strong. Pleasure and pain rocked my body, and I spread my legs wider, wanting to take every inch of him, needing his thick cock to spread me open.
“Is this what you fucking wanted?” he asked. “To get fucked by me on my floor? Your fucking dirty girl. I’m going to fuck your tight cunt until you scream my name.”
I moaned into his hand as he continued to thrust deep inside me. I moved my hips, rolling with his motions, loving the slick sound of his cock fucking my soaking pussy. I was dripping wet, and he easily took me, sliding in and out, his bare cock filling me.
He pulled back and took my hands, rolling me over. He grabbed my hips and pulled them into the air, keeping my face against the cool tile floor. He took my hands and put them behind my back, holding them with one massive hand as he slowly slid his cock deep inside my pussy.
I groaned as he pushed into me from behind.
“That’s right,” he said. “Look at this fucking ass in the air. You’re dripping wet for me. You’re a dirty fucking girl.”
He slammed into me, and I moaned. “Yes, Owen,” I gasped. “Oh god, fuck me. Make me yours. Make me yours.”
He fucked me roughly, pulling my hands behind my back as he slammed deep into me. I rolled my hips and bucked back against him. He held my hands tighter, locking me into place as he rocked me, fucking me, pulling me back and forth.
I took over, moving my hips along his hard shaft. I slid along him so easily, sliding up and down his cock. I couldn’t believe how soaking wet I was, but I needed it, needed him to make me his. I looked back over my shoulder at him as I worked back.
He let my hands go and slapped my ass. I pressed myself up as he grabbed my hair and pulled it. The slap of him against my ass filled the kitchen as he fucked me furiously, rough and deep, pulling my hair back. His lips found my neck.
“You’re all mine now,” he said. “Your tight little cunt is all mine. I want to hear you moan as you come on my thick cock.”
“Yes,” I gasped. “Please don’t stop.”
He grunted as I bucked back against him, harder and desperate. Sweat dripped down my skin, and I knew I was close. He slapped my ass and slammed into me, placing one hand around my throat but not squeezing as he fucked me.
I could feel the orgasm beginning in my toes. It spread all through my body as he completely dominated me, fucking me roughly and unrelentingly. I came hard, his cock deep inside me, thrusting in and out. My whole body went into spasms as the pleasure rocked through me, taking me away from myself.
I nearly blacked out from the pleasure. As I came, I said his name over and over, moaning his name.
“Fuck,” he groaned. “I’m going to fill this pussy up. I want you to feel me still inside you tomorrow.”
He came inside me then, his hot cum filling me. I moaned, loving the feeling of taking him, loving that he was filling me up.
Slowly, we finished and collapsed onto the floor together. I put my head on his chest and he wrapped his arms around me.
We stayed there silently for a few minutes. The only sound was our breath, and that was all I needed.
His strong arms around me, his skin against mine. Maybe things were still bad, but this moment was right.
30
Owen
It felt strange to be suited up but not starting.
I practiced the rest of that week behind Kennings. It was strange at first, but we quickly fell into a rhythm. Fortunately, Kennings was a decent guy, and he wasn’t a total dick about it.
There were serious egos in the NFL. The kind of guy who would work his ass off in a single sport to become the best is also the kind of guy to be a total asshole about starting positions. Kennings, though, he was the rare decent guy.
Liking him made it harder to be gunning for him, but not that much harder. I was going to earn back my starting spot no matter what, and there wasn’t anything he could do to stop me.
Tony didn’t contact me again that week, and Raylon just acted like nothing had happened. At least, Raylon didn’t say a word about it. I didn’t hold anything against the guy, because I knew how things worked with the mob, though I did wonder what they had against him.
Didn’t matter. Sunday rolled around, and I was listed as Kenning’s backup to nobody’s surprise. I had expected it. Hell, I knew it was happening, but I still didn’t like it.
I stood on the sidelines in my gear and glanced at Taylor as kickoff happened. We were getting the ball first, and for the first time in my career since going to college, I was going from starter to backup.
Which meant I wasn’t on the field for that first drive. Coach didn’t work me in at all, just let Kennings do his thing.
And he did okay. Nothing special, but he was hitting the line hard and working his ass off. That was all anybody could ask of him. That drive stalled out around midfield, so the offense punted.
I got my first touch ten minutes later, after a weak three-and-out from the Bengals. It was an insane handoff from shotgun, and I barely picked up three yards. I was off the field again, and Kennings was worked back in.
The first half went like that. I was given a touch or two, and I actually caught a pass for a first down on one drive, but otherwise Kennings got the biggest workload.
I hated standing ther
e and watching. It was bad enough when I was hurt the week before, but knowing that I could be out there making a difference was driving me insane. Kennings was playing fine, not great, but he was getting some yards on every carry. He didn’t look as good as he had the week before, fumble aside.
Still, we scored on a quick slant toward the end of the half. Kennings did some good work to get the team to that point, and although he didn’t bring it home, it was clear that he had helped out that drive a lot.
I hated standing aside. I kept giving glances to Taylor, and she just kept nodding at me. I was keeping loose and trying to make the best of every touch, but I just couldn’t get into a rhythm. I didn’t have the time to read the defense.
Just before halftime, the Bengals scored to tie the game on a huge bomb down the sideline. We went into the locker room, and Coach was clearly pretty pissed.
His usual speech was all about how we needed to work harder and get better. I wasn’t really listening, though. I was too busy running through each of my touches in my mind, trying to figure out where I could improve and where I had gone wrong.
“Hey.”
I looked up. Taylor smiled at me.
“Hey.”
“You look good out there.”
“When I get the ball, at least.”
“He’s working you in. That’s good.”
“Is it? I’ve had maybe ten carries at most.”
“That’s a lot. Kennings could be carrying the whole game.”
I frowned. “That’s true.”
“You can’t get anything going, but it’s not your fault. Kennings can’t either.”
“He looks decent.”
“I told you before: He can’t hold a candle to you.” She sat down on the bench next to me as the guys started to filter out of the locker room.
“I should go.”
“Listen, Owen. No matter what happens, you have me.”
I cocked my head at her. “I know,” I said, grinning.
She laughed. I grabbed her and kissed her and then stood. She was blushing red and looking around.
“Relax. Nobody saw.”
“You have to be careful.”
“Fuck being careful.” I turned to leave. “See you out there.”