“A shortcut?” Cass asked.
“Mm-hmm,” she said. “To understanding each other, to knowing each other.”
“You know I think Beau is sex on a stick, so that means you know me?”
“Yep.”
He waited for more, but that was all she said.
He crouched behind her chair, looking at her in the mirror over her shoulder. Beau came up behind them, a towel wrapped around his waist. Cass could see him clearly in the mirror, too. “Do you really know me?” he asked quietly. “If you did, you’d know I love you. The same way I love him. Tonight was about that. Did you get that? Giving you both what you needed like that completed me. I’ve never been more satisfied. I need you both, so much. I know I’m the one who always steps in and starts ordering everyone around, but the truth is you own me. Both of you. If you want me, that is.”
“You know I do,” Beau said. “I never thought I’d love anyone else ever. Just you. And I thought that I’d never be able to tell you about it.” He looked at Marian. “But when I met you I realized I was wrong. You make me a better man, a stronger one. A man who was strong enough to tell Cass how I felt. To tell you how I feel.”
“How do you feel?” she whispered.
“I love you,” Beau said. “Same as Cass.” He pointed between him and Cass. “This wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t come into our lives. I’m convinced of that.”
“Why?” she asked. She looked genuinely confused, almost distraught over the question.
“We would have just never connected in that way,” Beau said. He heaved a frustrated sigh. “I suppose I would’ve continued to be dependent on him and he would have continued to take care of me, until I lost myself completely and became the victim everyone else saw.”
“I didn’t see you that way,” Cass argued, turning to face him. “But you’re right. What we had before Marian was not a healthy relationship of equals.” He closed his eyes, embarrassed at his next confession. “I liked it. I liked having someone need me as much as you needed me.” He opened his eyes again was relieved Beau didn’t seem shocked or appalled. “But I know now you still need me, just in a different way. You don’t need me to take care of you anymore. But you want me to.”
“Yes,” Beau said. “That’s right. I like knowing you’re in my corner.” He gave him a lopsided grin and then looked at Marian. “But it was you, Marian, who brought out the old Beau. The confidence, the self-assurance. Because you wanted me. You didn’t want to take care of me, you expected me to take care of myself and to perform to the best of my ability without being my crutch.” He looked at Cass. “No offense.”
“None taken,” Cass said honestly. “You’re right. I couldn’t help it. It was instinctual.”
“I do want you,” Marian said. “And I don’t know about this other Beau you keep talking about, the one with no confidence, the victim. I’ve never met him.”
“I know,” Beau said simply. “And that’s why I love you.”
“We should be together, Marian,” Cass whispered. “The three of us. You know it.”
Marian bit her lip before she sighed. “I do know it. I love you both. I’m not afraid of that anymore. I’m not afraid to love and trust someone. And my life is richer with you two in it.” Cass kissed her shoulder, relief swamping him. “But what happened tonight? I’m not sure I’m going to want that again. I don’t think I need it again.”
“Then neither do I,” Cass assured her. “What made it special for us was giving that to you.”
“Then you’ll move in here?” Beau asked, still standing where he was. “No more sneaking around? No more doubts?”
“Oh, I have doubts,” Marian said with a laugh. “The press is going to have a field day with us. This is not going to help the Rebels’ public image.”
“Fuck the public,” Cass said roughly. “This is our business, our life, our happiness.”
“I know that,” she said, reaching over her shoulder and touching his cheek. “I know this is it, this is my second chance, my best chance, to find the kind of happiness I’ve always dreamed about. I’m not going anywhere. But you need to be prepared for what’s coming.”
“What’s coming is the best years of our lives,” Cass said, “starting with this one.” He stood up and then pulled her up from the stool and spun her around so that she was between him and Beau. Beau tossed his towel away and pulled Marian back against him. “This season is our season, Marian,” Cass told her. “The Rebels are a crazy lot of misfits and rejects and we’re going to make them into a team. A real team. A winning team. And we’re going to show them that being different doesn’t mean you can’t be happy.” He put his hands on her waist and kissed her softly. “We’re going to show them what happiness really is.”
“Being a Rebel,” she said with a sexy smile. “Happiness is being a Rebel.”
“I couldn’t have put it better myself,” Cass whispered. He kissed her, and when Beau’s mouth joined his, it seemed the most natural thing in the world to kiss them together.
This is for my husband, as they all are. For not complaining about bad dinners, missed appointments, or all my football questions during the writing of this book.
Acknowledgments
I would like to thank my dear friend, football aficionado Julie Parkinson, for all her help with the football research. Also, Howie Long and Football for Dummies. Special thanks go out to Kim Killion for her spectacular design skills and the Birmingham Rebels logo. Thanks to all the readers who have been enthusiastically anticipating this new series. Thank you to my wonderful editor, Sue Grimshaw; publisher Gina Wachtel; the wonderful PR and marketing department; and everyone else at Random House for all their help and support. And thanks to the NFL for being such a gold mine of potential erotic romance stories.
Rebels Team Roster
Offence
Quarterback
17 Tyler Oakes
2nd String Quarterback
11 Marlon Parris
Wide Receiver
82 Prince Merrill
Wide Receiver
88 Kellan Lawry
Running Back
35 Danny Smith
Running Back
49 Tom Kelly
Offensive Line
Center
50 Cass Zielenski
RGuard
79 Andre Redding
LGuard
67 Isaiah Freeman
RTackle
72 DeShawn Brown
LTackle
70 Kitt Doyle
Blocking Tight End
60 Beau Perez
Defense
Defensive Linemen:
Nose Tackle
95 King Ulupoka
Defensive Tackle
91 Dominique Reyes
Defensive Tackle
97 Marquis Swindel
Defensive End
92 Gabe Harris
Defensive End
99 Malachai Goodman
Linebackers
True Linebacker
53 Julian Wilkinson
Sam Linebacker
52 Sam Taylor
Willy Linebacker
55 Jo Jo Jones
Mike Linebacker
59 Darius Alvin
Secondary
Cornerback
20 Michael Swan
Cornerback
24 Rory Mays
Strong Safety
38 Rasheed Davis
Free Safety
27 Joshua Makepeace
Nickel Back
31 Curtis Williams
Dime Back
26 Esmond Southern
Special Teams
Placekicker
15 Ricardo Rivera
Field Goal Kicker
18 Nigel Locke
Punter
16 Javier Arias
BY SAMANTHA KANE
The Saint’s Devils
The Devil’s Thief
Tempting a Devil
Devil in My Arms
Birmingham Rebels
Broken Play
Calling the Play (coming soon)
Reviewers have called SAMANTHA KANE “an absolute marvel to read,” and “one of historical romance’s most erotic and sensuous authors.” Her books have been called “sinful,” “sensuous,” and “sizzling.” She won the Passionate Plume for best erotic historical in 2008, the Historical CAPA award from The Romance Studio in 2011, and has been nominated multiple times for Favorite Author at The Romance Studio. She was born in the Midwest, but now resides in North Carolina with her family.
samanthakane.us
Facebook.com/SamanthaKane.author
@skaneauthor
The Editor’s Corner
As the seasonal colors change with the leaves on the trees, so does our lineup of new Loveswept romances…and we’re sure you’ll love them all!
Adore MC romances? You’ll love Rachael Johns’s, Fire Me Up. Sports fans won’t want to miss New York Times bestselling author Sawyer Bennett’s Cold Fury Hockey series continuing with Ryker and debut author Sophia Henry introduces her Pilot’s Hockey series with Delayed Penalty. Then it’s off the ice with Samantha Kane’s new NFL title, Broken Play. Baseball fans everywhere will want the next in the Boys of Summer series by Katie Rose, The Heat of the Moment, while readers who devour MMA stories will go for Loveswept debut author Sarah Robinson’s Breaking a Legend. And if your taste for fighters is not squelched just yet, Raven by Suzanne Ashley has a twist that will shock you and yet melt your heart—prepare yourself for an emotional ride.
For those sports enthusiasts who take to the slopes, Extreme Risk’s next installment, Slashed, by New York Times bestselling author Tracy Wolff is here! Fabulously fun and flirty author Cassie Mae begins a new series, All About Love, that will have you laughing out loud, then sniffling, maybe both at the same time with the first book, Doing It for Love. Lastly, a sexy regency historical novella from Lavinia Kent, part of her Bound and Determined series, Sarah’s Surrender.
All affordably priced and found wherever eBooks are sold, Loveswepts are stories you’ll always remember and that can be easily stored on your digital shelves to be read over and over again. Until next time…
Happy Romance!
Gina Wachtel
Associate Publisher
Read on for an excerpt from
Calling the Play
by Samantha Kane
Available from Loveswept
Chapter 1
Tyler Oakes walked into the most disreputable bar he could find in Birmingham. It was a place called Kitty Licks out near the airport. He just couldn’t resist it. First time he’d seen the name he’d known he was going to have to go there someday. Today was the day. As the quarterback for the Birmingham Rebels, one of the NFL’s newest franchises, he had to come back to town a week ahead of the rest of the team. They wanted him in on some of the brainstorming sessions before preseason training kicked in next week and the rest of the team showed up. So he was lonely, bored, and looking for trouble. His checkered past was proof he ought to resist the urge, but he’d never been good with that sort of thing. Better to go out and choose what kind of trouble he was going to get in than let trouble find him like it usually did.
He could have gone to hang out with Cass Zielinski, the Rebels’ center and team captain. He and his boyfriend Beau Perez, Rebels’ tight end, had moved in with their girlfriend, Marian Treadwell, the Rebels’ assistant offensive coach. The three had hit the news outlets with a great big bang. It seemed to be all anyone was talking about these days, and not in a good way. Two of the most notorious players in the NFL involved in a ménage à trois with a coach? Hell yeah, the press was eating it up. Ty felt kind of sorry for them. They were just trying to be happy, like everyone else. But when you were in the NFL you weren’t allowed to do that sort of thing. Trust Cass to just say fuck ’em and do what he wanted. Or who he wanted.
Ty had a feeling this was only the first time the Rebels would make the news like that. After all, most of the players were here because nobody else wanted them. Sex, drugs, behavior issues, bad attitudes, the Rebels had it all on the roster. Ty was here because he had two strikes against him: he was openly bisexual and had been since college, and he’d been busted for drugs the year after he’d been drafted. Which was so stupid he was still kicking himself. He didn’t even do drugs, unless you counted alcohol. Back in the day that had been his vice, and the reason he’d been stupid enough to agree to “hold” someone’s stash for them. It had taken five years in the Canadian Football League, and a Gray Cup, to get him back in the NFL’s good graces.
When he walked into the bar and looked around his thoughts went back to Cass, Beau, and Marian. They would have welcomed him over and fed him and laughed with him. But when you already had three, four was definitely a crowd. Months ago Ty had gotten up close and personal with Marian and the guys, but that had been a one-time deal and there was still a little awkwardness. Probably on his part since he was jealous as hell of what the three had together. But he was used to being used, he supposed. Ty always seemed to be an expendable commodity.
And boy damn he needed to get laid. When he got the poor me’s he needed some pussy or some dick, ASAP. Which was why he was here. It was Friday night and he figured a place named Kitty Licks had to have some clientele who were looking for the same thing. If not, well, Birmingham had lots of bars. But from the looks of it Ty was going to have to do some fast maneuvering just to get out of there without being either fucked or fucked up against his will. This might not have been his brightest idea. Note to Ty, he thought, do some research next time you go looking for trouble.
Several pairs of eyes were trained on him as he tried to nonchalantly sidle up to the bar. The place seemed to be divided down the middle. On the left were several tables full of Hispanic tough guys. Neck tats, slicked-back hair, and not so hidden bulges that were clearly guns in their pockets, because they did not look that happy to see him. The other side of the bar was redneck hell. Tom Kelly, a young running back rookie and one of his best friends on the team, had told him that in the South a cracker meant a wannabe, those dudes who wore their ball caps sideways and their pants so damn low they had to hold them up over their ass. His knee-jerk reaction was to tell the whole right side of the bar to pull their pants up.
The bar itself didn’t live up to the name. It was dank and dark and stank of spilled beer, vomit, and sweat. The carpet looked like it had seen at least twenty years of bodily fluids. Thank God the lighting sucked and the disco ball spinning over the dance floor wasn’t bright enough for him to see it better. Ty cracked his neck and grew a pair and walked up to the bar with a swagger he wasn’t feeling. “Give me a beer. In a bottle. I don’t care what kind as long as it’s cold,” he told the bartender. The bartender’s eyes shifted to the right as if looking for permission and then he leaned down and pulled a Budweiser out of the cooler. He popped the top off and handed it to Ty. “Thanks.” Ty turned and surveyed the crowd.
After his initial entrance it looked like most of the people there had gone back to their own business. The dance floor was almost empty, just a few girls dancing, no guys. No surprise there. None of the male patrons looked like the dancing type. The music was some pop shit from the 90s. Even he didn’t want to dance to that.
The girls weren’t too promising, either. Redneck girlfriends for the rednecks. There were no Hispanic girls anywhere. He surmised the bar belonged to the crackers, then. As he stood there sipping his beer—which was at least cold—he got even more depressed. Somehow this shit bar was a metaphor for his life. Yet another bad choice. Had the Rebels been a bad choice? He hadn’t thought so at the time. He’d been here for two years. The team still sucked. He wasn’t happy with his performance at all. And he’d become a monk. Seriously. Time was he could get laid seven days a week by seven different people, men and women alike. But that just wasn’t his thing anymore. He was getting old. Shit. That was it. He couldn’t fuck and he couldn’t
play football because he was old. Twenty-nine in the NFL was old. Especially for a quarterback.
Suddenly one of the redneck girls peeled herself away from a guy in a back booth and stood up. She had to shimmy a little to get her tight little short skirt down enough to cover her ass. Ty nearly choked on his beer. How had he missed her? She wasn’t tall, just average height, but she had killer curves packed into a little corset top and that wicked skirt. Her legs were as curvy as the rest of her and ended in dangerously high heels. She walked across the dance floor, exchanging some sharp words with one of the girls shaking her ass out there. The conversation ended with the curvy one flashing the finger at the other girl as she kept on walking. Straight at Ty.
As she got closer Ty could see she wasn’t classically pretty, at least not the way most people thought of it. But there was something about her that caught his eye. She looked to be mixed race, with light caramel skin, freckles all over her face and generous, kissable lips. She had wildly curling shoulder-length hair. Little copper spiral curls framed her face perfectly. For some reason that hair sealed the deal. Ty had to have her.
“Give me a wallbanger, Harvey,” she told the bartender. She cracked up laughing as the bartender slammed a Bud down in front of her. She winked at Ty. “That joke never gets old,” she said.
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