Encore: A Reverse Harem Romance

by Lane Hart

  “So you play soccer?” my date, Betsy, looks up and asks me.

  “Football,” I reply, biting the inside of my cheek to keep from bitching about how American football is way better than the European one.

  “Right, so you play soccer?” the ditsy girl asks again.

  “American football,” I elaborate slowly. “We don’t use our feet. We catch balls with our hands and get tackled and shit.”

  “The kickers use their feet,” she argues. And great, if this is how the night is going to go then it should be easy to convince Kelsey that she can’t distract me with some gorgeous woman, because I actually would rather spend time with her, a woman who doesn’t argue over everything I say.

  “It’s chilly tonight,” I say just to chitchat while we wait for Kelsey outside. “Do you need my jacket?”

  “It’s not that cold,” she says, which I should’ve guessed her response would be.

  I glance over to see how Cam is doing with his date and see him simply nodding occasionally as she talks nonstop, not giving him a second to get a word in.

  As I think about it, I realize that these two stunning women are the type that would typically have Cam and I rolling our eyes behind their backs until we could get them to the closest bed or hard surface. And I can’t say I have any desire right now to get naked with Betsy. From the bored look on Cam’s face, I think the same goes for him.

  The two of us are growing up, actually wanting more than a hot body to plow into a few times before making a quick escape out the door. Not that I don’t want to plow. I’m so horny I could plow an entire field right about now. It’s just that I’m being more…selective. Actually, I’m pretty damn selective since only one woman currently fits the bill.

  Cam reaches over and slips his hundred into my palm as we all turn to watch Kelsey hurrying down the sidewalk in a black pea coat and tall black boots with matching tights. Her long, chestnut hair falls down her shoulders, and damn, if I can’t wait to peel that dress and those boots off of her in a few hours.

  “Hey, sorry I’m late,” she says with her approach, her high cheekbones flushed either from embarrassment or the cool air.

  “Couldn’t decide what to wear?” Cam asks, floating that theory he stole from. Unbeknownst to him, it’s the wrong damn thing to say to a woman.

  “Ah, something like that,” Kelsey mutters in obvious embarrassment.

  “Let’s head inside and get warm,” I suggest as I open the restaurant’s door and hold it for everyone to crowd inside. “It’s cold out tonight, isn’t it?” I ask Kelsey, who is last in the line of our group. She looks up at me and smiles, not at my question, but because she looks genuinely happy to see me.

  “Yeah, freezing,” she agrees. See? Why did her friend have to be difficult and argue about something as silly as the weather? It’s cold. Period. End of discussion.

  “I bet you’d be warmer if you had pants on,” I joke since I’m the one who told her to wear a dress.

  “I bet I would too,” she agrees, and then softer, “Maybe someone can warm me up later.”

  “No doubt,” I reply as she eases past me inside, her hip brushing the front of my zipper, causing my khaki pants to tighten.

  The hostess seats us right away since Callie made reservations, and yeah, it probably helps that three of us are professional, American football players.

  At a long table in the back, we’re all paired up to sit across from our dates, which means me, Kelsey, Cameron and Callie end up on one side with Betsy, Steve, Holly and Quinton on the other.

  “So I guess you all introduced each other outside,” Kelsey remarks as everyone takes off their coats and gets comfortable.

  “We did,” I agree, looking across the table at the woman in front of me but easing my palm down on Kelsey’s thigh. “And, Kelsey, this is Steve. Steve, Kelsey,” I make introductions.

  “Nice to meet you,” Kelsey says to him with a friendly smile as she reaches her hand across the table to shake his.

  Only, Cam and I warned Steve not to lay a finger on Kelsey, so he freezes, leaving her hanging as he glances between me and Cam. I give a slight nod of my head, telling him we’ll allow this small contact, so the two finally shake hands after a long, awkward pause.

  “So, Betsy,” I start, trying to be a good date. “What do you do for a living?”

  “I teach the first grade over at Strawbridge Elementary,” she informs me. She and Kelsey must have met at school.

  “What about you…” Cameron goes to ask his date but forgets her name. I barely hold in my snicker as I squeeze Kelsey’s thigh.

  “Holly, like deck the halls with boughs of holly,” the girl tells him. “My parents actually named me after the plant because I was born right after Christmas. But I was actually late. My original due date was actually December twenty-third…”

  And that’s actually the point at which I tune her words out, focusing instead on slipping my hand underneath the hem of Kelsey’s dress to move it up her thigh.

  Not to be outdone, Cameron tries the same trick, which pushes Kelsey over the line. She grabs both of our hands at the same time and places them back on our laps. I don’t miss her hand trying to cop a feel of my dick on the way back either.

  “Hi, welcome to Donovan’s. Can I get you all something to drink?” our waitress asks, thankfully silencing Miss Chatty Cathy.

  Why did I ever put up with women like her and argumentative Betsy to get laid?

  Chapter Fourteen

  Cameron

  Oh, I could definitely get laid tonight. I mean, if I wanted to, not that I will since that rule of mine is set in stone.

  How do I know I could if I wanted to?

  Well, when Kelsey returned my hand to my lap, I grabbed hers before she could pull away and placed it right on my dick that’s been getting hard ever since she walked up on the sidewalk. And Kelsey didn’t pull away. She’s still subtly stroking me under the tablecloth.

  “I’ll have a glass of white wine,” Kelsey tells the waitress, and I bet she felt how my cock jumped at just the sound of her voice while I watch her pink lips move and imagine them right where her hand is still rubbing. Oh, it feels good. My eyelids grow heavy the longer it goes on picturing her on her knees sucking me off.

  “You look tired, Cam,” Quinton says, snapping me out of my blissful state.

  “Huh?” I ask as my eyes fly open and I sit up straighter.

  “You need to rest up and get ready for Sunday,” he says.

  “Yeah, Cam. Don’t want you slacking on the field,” Nix pipes in to add his two cents.

  “I’m gonna be good to go,” I assure them.

  “If we win this week and next, and if the Hawks and the Sharks lose, then we might get into the playoffs.”

  “That’s a whole lotta ifs,” Callie replies with a chuckle.

  “True, but all we can do is win our games and hope the other teams win or lose like we need,” Quinton tells her.

  “If not this year, there’s always next season,” she tells him with a smile.

  “I may not be here next year,” I speak up and say.

  “Why not?” Nix looks over Kelsey’s head to ask with confusion on his face.

  “My contract expires at the end of the season, remember? I could get traded or let go…” I remind him just like my father has made a point to call and remind me every day since practice started in July.

  “The Wildcats won’t cut you,” Nix says.

  “Agreed,” Quinton adds. “They would be crazy to let you go. We need you.”

  “They have budgets and all that shit to figure out too, though, so who knows.”

  “When will you find out?” Kelsey asks softly.

  “Probably in a few weeks.”

  “Well, good luck,” she says, giving my cock a squeeze. I bite down on my bottom lip hard to prevent my moan.

  Unfortunately or fortunately, I’m not sure which, Kelsey lets my shaft go after that. And I need more, so much more tonight fr
om her or I may die.

  “Where the hell is the waitress?” I grumble as I glance around the restaurant.

  Finally, she comes back with our drinks, and after sitting them all down in front of us from her tray, asks for our orders.

  “What cooks the fastest?” I ask her.

  “That would be the grilled chicken salad,” she replies with a sassy smile.

  “Yeah, give me two of those,” I say since one won’t fill me up.

  “I’ll have the same,” Kelsey tells the waitress as she hands her back her menu.

  “Make it three,” Nixon adds.

  The problem is that we have to wait for everyone else’s food to come out too.

  God, could this night go any slower?

  Chapter Fifteen

  Cameron

  My doorbell rings about two minutes after I come in the garage door, sending my heart rate into overdrive. I nearly run to get to the door faster, but at the last minute decide the chance of twisting an ankle and not playing Sunday isn’t worth the few extra seconds.

  I wrench open the door and then all the air escapes from my hopeful balloon.

  “Oh, it’s just you,” I mutter when Nixon shoves past me into my house. Sticking my head out the door, I look up and down the dark road for Kelsey’s car, but the street is empty.

  “I bet you she texted me more than you this week,” are the jackasses first words, which instantly sets the knob on my combative blood to a boil.

  “You’re on,” I tell him as I follow him into the living room, liking my odds since I messaged back and forth with Kelsey a few times every day this week. It wasn’t much, just asking about her day and all…

  “I’ll wager a Benjamin on it, but I’m willing to go higher,” Nixon informs me with a cocky grin when he flops down in the center of the sofa and spreads both arms over the back, making himself right at home. Which isn’t all that bizarre since this was his home until a few days ago when I kicked him out. That’s another reason I’ve been texting Kelsey. It’s been too quiet and lonely around here.

  “Deal,” I say. “Winner has the most messages from her.”

  “Yeah,” Nixon says, still grinning. I realize I probably should’ve considered this bet a little more carefully since he’s probably been working on winning all week.

  “Add it up,” I tell him, pulling my own phone from my jeans pocket and using my finger to scroll through the chat log. I get finished and watch as Nixon keeps scrolling and scrolling. Fuck. “How many?” I ask.

  He finally stops scrolling and looks up. “You first.”

  “Fine. Twenty.”

  “Not bad,” he says before his smile stretches across his annoying face in triumph.

  “How many?” I ask again.

  “Sixty-seven,” he informs me, making my teeth squeak when they grind together. That’s triple mine! She messaged him three times as often as me? What the ever-loving fuck?

  “Let me see,” I demand, holding out my palm for his phone because I need to see proof. He proudly hands it right over. I lose count around twenty-five and start reading the messages instead, curious about what she’s said to him.

  And fuck me.

  While I kept all of my messages G rated and friendly, Nix and Kelsey were sexting away, making me look like a chump. I’ve been losing ground for days and had no idea!

  Nix asked her for photos of herself, which she sent, looking so beautiful. Why didn’t I ask her for a picture? Ugh, and he sent her dick pics, not that I haven’t seen his cock before, but still it’s gross all up close and personal. And then, Nix starts telling her about all the things he wants to do to her tonight, one sentence at a time, waiting for her to respond before he would keep going. Instead of being offended, she encouraged him text after text!

  “Pay up,” Nix says as I read about how he told her earlier today that he bought a new box of condoms just for her. And when she challenged that statement by saying she’s sure he’ll find other girls to use a few on, he replies smoothly with No fucking way. I know polygamy is a deal breaker for you, baby. You can even come check my bed every night to see for yourself that it’s empty.

  I don’t know if he’s lying to her or if he really does plan to keep his dick in his pants, and that concerns me. If he’s telling the truth, he’s more serious about Kelsey than I thought.

  Handing Nix’s phone back to him, I reach for my wallet in my back pocket and pull out another hundred to give him. But just when he starts to take it from me, I grip it harder.

  “This isn’t some trick to fuck me over again with Kelsey, is it?” I ask through narrowed eyes.

  “She doesn’t need to know about this or any of our bets, does she?” is all he says as he jerks the bill from my hand and puts it in his wallet. “Wanna bet on who fucks her first tonight?” he asks.

  “Fuck no,” I respond automatically, since that’s just wrong and he knows that I can’t get inside of her again.

  “How about who makes her come first?” he asks.

  “Most times?” I suggest.

  “Hell no. You know my rule on the day before a game,” Nix says. “Just who makes her come first. A hundred?” He sticks out his palm for me to shake. “But we have to be discreet. No arguing or fighting in front of her. We just give her a good time, no rushing her, and see how the night plays out.”

  “Agreed,” I say as I walk over and shake his hand. Then I have to ask, “Are you really going monogamous for her?”

  “Yep,” he says without further explanation. “You are too,” he eventually tacks on.

  “I am,” I agree.

  “Right,” Nix mutters. “Because if I see a jersey chaser within ten feet of you, you can bet your ass I’m gonna tell her.”

  “Ditto,” I reply, then take a seat in the recliner as I think that over. “How the fuck do we keep girls away from us?”

  “No clue,” Nix answers with a grin and shake of his head. “Never tried to nor wanted to.”

  “At least the season is almost over,” I remark. After Sunday’s away game, we’ve only got one more home game before it’s over unless we win both and other teams we need to lose, lose. The playoffs are a longshot this year for the Wildcats.

  “Yeah, that’ll make things easier,” Nix agrees.

  Not for me. How long can I watch him fuck Kelsey before I cave and give in, breaking the most important rule of staying out of relationships and not getting serious with just one woman?

  The doorbell rings, making me jump up from my seat in a hurry since I expect Nixon to race me to the door. Instead, he doesn’t move a muscle from his leisurely position in the middle of the sofa.

  “You’re not getting up to greet her?” I ask over my shoulder on the way to the door.

  “Nah, I’ll wait here,” he says, sounding way too confident.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Kelsey

  What does one wear when they’re going to have a threesome with two professional football players for the second time?

  That’s the question that's plagued me more this week than what would happen tonight and why I was late getting to the restaurant.

  With Nixon sending me a constant stream of all the naughty things he plans on doing to me, I figured that the sex would be the easy part. I’m nervous about the time before the sex when we’re just standing around looking at each other making polite conversation.

  After trying on every outfit in my small closet, I decided to go with another sweater dress, this one purple instead of green with tall black boots and black tights. My intimates are purple and black to match since that seemed important. It’s not easy to figure out how to impress one man, much less two. Men who have slept with countless women, all thinner and a lot prettier than me…

  Speaking of much prettier women, by the time I park outside Cameron’s house, Betsy and Holly have both texted me, each telling me that, while their date was hot, they didn’t feel a spark, so I shouldn’t expect them to agree to any more dates.

  Whew
.

  That’s a relief.

  And as nice as Steve was, who was cute in a boyish way, there’s no future there. When I gave him a hug goodbye, he pushed me away and then hustled off down the sidewalk.

  So here I am, sitting outside of the house where two men are waiting for me inside.

  Sure, I have a ton of insecurities about myself and doubts saying I shouldn’t be here or even be considering doing this, but for some reason I still get out of the car and walk up to knock on the door. A second later, it opens and Cameron is standing on the other side.

  “Hey,” he says with a grin as he combs his fingers through the front of his long blond hair to push it out of his eyes. Eyes that are slowly raking up and down the length of my body like he didn’t just see me ten minutes ago at the restaurant.

  “Hey,” I reply, clutching the straps of my black leather purse to me. “Your house is gorgeous,” I tell him since I can’t figure out what else to say. Besides, it’s true. All the houses in his neighborhood are huge, most two stories like Cameron’s with three-car garages. I bet his house could hold a family of five or six, and he has it all to himself.

  “Thanks,” he says, taking a step backward and opening the door wider. “Come on in.”

  When I step across the threshold, he shuts the door and then grabs my waist to kiss my cheek. “Your friends were nice and all, but I’m glad you came over instead of them,” he says softly before he lets me go.

  “Ah, yeah,” I mutter since it doesn’t seem very ladylike to tell him thanks for having another threesome.

  “Nix is in the living room,” Cameron says, gesturing toward it off to the left when we continue to stand there in silence.

  “Oh, okay,” I say as I walk over and see Nixon sprawled comfortably on the sofa, watching me with a grin on his handsome face. Just seeing him makes my face flush, thinking about all of his flirty, and some even downright dirty, texts over the last few days.