Blindsided (Fake Boyfriend Book 4)

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Blindsided (Fake Boyfriend Book 4) Page 19

by Eden Finley


  “Shane.” My voice comes out pleading.

  Miller takes that as encouragement and does it again, and then again, until I have the confidence to do it.

  Sitting up straight, I place my hands on his chest for leverage and begin to fuck myself on his cock. Over and over, I want to feel that push of pleasure, that burst of need.

  “Lean back,” Miller orders. “Put your hands on the mattress beside my legs.”

  As I do that, Miller grips my thighs and thrusts upward.

  Unintelligible things fall from my mouth, because I didn’t know this could get any better. Miller’s trying to kill me, I’m sure of it.

  “Do it again,” I say.

  Miller breaks out into a cocky smile and begins a slow pace but quickly picks up speed.

  All I can do is throw back my head and enjoy the ride.

  When his giant hand leaves my thigh and wraps around my leaking cock, I know this is almost over. With the feeling in my ass mixed with the tight grip Miller has on my dick, my body explodes as cum shoots all over Miller’s chest.

  I ride out the pleasure and glance down at the beautiful sight just in time to see the last drops of cum fall onto his smooth skin.

  I breathe heavy while Miller continues to move inside me until the friction in my ass almost becomes too much. I’m close to needing to ask to stop when he says, “I’m so close. So … fucking … clo—”

  Miller grunts and releases inside me, and I suddenly wish there was no condom separating us.

  I collapse on top of Miller, and he holds me close. We’re covered in sweat, my cum is cooling on our skin, his cock is softening in my ass, and I know we need to move. But I don’t wanna.

  All I want is to recover and then do it again. And again.

  Words like forever float around my brain, and I’ve never had that before.

  “Shane?”

  “Yeah,” Miller croaks.

  “You’re so worth the risk. You’re worth everything.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  MILLER

  It doesn’t take long for me to realize Talon’s using positive reinforcement as a training method and even less time for him to realize I’ve figured it out.

  We stay wrapped in our little bubble of training and fucking—and the occasional visit to my family—until my leg is better, and I begin to find hope again.

  Reconditioning to get back to NFL level is harder than I thought it would be, and there are some setbacks, which have me wanting to tear my hair out and give up, but Talon’s there to remind me of why we do this.

  Football is in our blood. It’s our lives.

  Waking up on a Sunday morning in mid-spring, I reach for my phone, which is buzzing. It’s the one morning a week Talon lets me sleep in, and some asshole is calling me at the ungodly hour of ...

  Oh. It’s eight fifteen. And it’s also not my phone that’s buzzing.

  With a nudge of my hip, I try to rouse Talon. “Your phone won’t shut up.”

  “Wha?” Talon reaches blindly for his phone, hits a button, and puts it to his ear. “Yeah. Speak.”

  A deep, rumbly laugh that doesn’t belong to Talon or me fills the room. “It’s a video call, dumbass. Nice ear.”

  Talon lifts his phone and squints at it. “Trey? What the fuck? What time is it?”

  “Geez, you football players are so lazy. Only work for half the year and sleep in the rest of it.”

  Talon almost drops the phone as he yawns. “What’s up?”

  “Is that ... Is that Shane Miller?” Trey asks.

  Fuck. I try to slip out of bed, but Talon pulls me back.

  “Okay, wow, so you weren’t lying when you said it turned out to be more, huh?” Trey doesn’t sound weirded out, only surprised.

  “What do you want?” Talon asks his brother.

  “Was calling to check on you. Mom and Dad are being a pain in my ass, and that can only mean you’ve been avoiding them. They tend to pay me more attention when the number one son is busy.”

  “Fuck off. They love you for not leaving them. I’m only the favorite son because my success is measurable.”

  Trey eyes Talon warily through the screen. “Why do I feel like there’s an insult in there somewhere?”

  “If that was all you had to say, I’m gonna go back to sleep now. My boyfriend kept me up allll night doing gay things to me.”

  My heart stutters, but not at him telling his brother about last night. I trip on the boyfriend label, which I guess is what we are—we’ve been with only each other for months. But still, first time he’s actually said it. But did he only say it to freak out Trey, or did he actually mean it?

  Trey sighs. “If you’re trying to freak me out by speaking fluent homo, you have to know I don’t give a shit. I work with guys a hell of a lot gayer than you. I don’t think you could shock me at this point.”

  “Let me sleeeep,” Talon complains.

  “Fine. But call Mom and Dad today. Please. For my own sanity.”

  “Will do.” Talon yawns again. “Oh, and don’t tell them about Miller, because I’m not gonna.”

  “Why not?”

  “We’re ...” Talon looks at me, and I try to keep my face passive. “We’re still figuring this out.”

  Boyfriend label not serious then. And figuring it out? I thought we were past that.

  “Fair enough, but when you do figure it out, maybe you should think about telling the press before they catch you.”

  “Why do you say that?” Talon asks.

  “So you get to narrate your own story. Last thing you need is someone else doing it for you and getting it wrong. Like your teammate’s story.”

  Talon purses his lips. “We should be fine. We’re being careful.”

  Probably too careful.

  “Talk soon, little brother.”

  They end the call, and I try to stay silent, but with one phone call, the bubble we’ve created on Staten Island just became a tad bit unstable. I expect it to pop any minute.

  “Boyfriend?” I have to go for the easy target—taunting and preparing to laugh it off.

  Talon puts his phone on the bedside table and rolls over to face me. His leg goes over my hip as he snuggles in closer. “It’s what we are, aren’t we?”

  “I ... I guess? I mean, we’re not seeing anyone else, and I’ve spent more nights at your place than I have my own ... so, uh, yeah, I guess so.”

  “He guesses,” Talon says dryly. “You’re totally in love with me. I can tell already.”

  I freeze, and with Talon wrapped around me, he notices instantly.

  He shoves me. “I’m just playing.”

  “I know.”

  He’s unconvinced, but it’s hard to wrap my head around.

  We’ve been finding our groove as a couple and still as teammates, but we don’t talk about what will happen come training camp. In fact, we haven’t talked about anything that doesn’t reside on Staten Island.

  When Talon said I was worth the risk, I think he meant I’m worth hiding for. There’s no risk when there’s no chance of anyone ever seeing us together.

  Jackson had invited us to Noah’s fundraising charity a few weeks back, which we fully intended to go to, but at the last minute, Talon distracted me with sex, and we didn’t get out of bed for it. Maddox invited us to more bar nights, but I feigned exhaustion from training, because I knew Talon would make an excuse not to go.

  We haven’t left Staten Island since … since he told me I was worth everything.

  We live and breathe for training and each other, and if it were a possibility for our world to last this way, I’d jump at the chance to make it a permanent arrangement.

  I know who I am with Talon. I know where I fit. I’m just not sure how the rest of the world fits in with us.

  And sooner or later, real life is going to catch up to us.

  “So, uh, what do you think about what your brother said?” I ask.

  “About calling my parents? I’ll do it later.


  Not what I meant, and I wonder if he answered that way on purpose.

  “Were you going to at least tell them? My mom knows.”

  “Your mom’s not likely to blab about it to all of her friends. My mom’s the worst secret keeper. I’d like to think she’d be good with something as big as this, but I could see her being all proud and telling her friends without thinking they’ll tell someone else and then someone else, and then—”

  “Right. Fair enough. And the media thing?” I don’t know why I’m pushing, and with the way Talon’s eyeing me, I don’t think he does either.

  “I thought we agreed that wasn’t going to happen?”

  “Yeah, but then we stopped going out in public at all. Don’t get me wrong. I know we need to keep this quiet, but it’s like this apartment is our entire freaking world right now, and while you might not mean it to, it’s starting to feel like we’re each other’s dirty little secret.”

  “You want to go out?”

  “I want to get off this stinking island. Leave our bubble.”

  Talon grinds his hard cock against me. “I happen to love our bubble.”

  God, I should not be this easily distracted. My hand runs down Talon’s back and grips his ass, pulling him closer.

  When I realize he’s using sex to get out of this again, I shake off my lust and scramble out of bed. “Why don’t you want to go out anywhere? I’m not asking you to hold my hand in Times Square. I just … we need some vitamin D.”

  Talon, of course, grabs his cock. “I have your vitamin D right here.”

  I don’t want to laugh, but he’s so lame I have to. It stops again fast when I see Talon’s worried face. “It seems like you decided we’re going to be together for real, and then we don’t see the real world for God knows how long. I’ve got cabin fever.”

  “You feeling a little like a princess in a tower?” Talon mocks, but it’s forced. I hate that us going from friends to more has all these extra elements we have to think about, but if we don’t address them, they’re going to blow up in our faces, and we could lose everything.

  Nothing is worth losing Talon over.

  “It’s like I’m only worth the risk when you take away the risk completely.”

  Talon slowly climbs out of bed, giving me a mouthwatering view of his naked form. His cock is hard, seemingly unfazed by our argument, unlike mine. Though it definitely becomes interested as Talon approaches.

  “You want to know why I’m scared to go out in public with you?” he whispers. His body presses against mine, and his hands run up my sides, burning my skin.

  Yep, my cock is definitely interested.

  “Why?” I manage to get out, but it comes out gruff as Talon leans in and kisses me just under my ear.

  “Because being in the gym without being able to touch you is hard enough.” Talon’s breath is warm on my neck, and it sends a shiver right through me. “And that’s when I can take you upstairs and get you naked in minutes. In public? I might die.”

  “Die?”

  “We may never be able to leave until I can squash the urge to touch you.”

  That’s a good answer.

  “How will we manage to do that?” I ask.

  Talon sinks to his knees, and his tongue darts out to lick the length of my shaft.

  “Holy fuck.” I breathe heavy. “That’s one way.”

  His hand grips my cock and gives a hard pump as he stares up at me. “I tell you what …”

  “Less telling, more blowjob.”

  Talon stares up at me. “We can go out tonight.”

  “That easy?”

  “Not so easy.” He leans forward and licks the drop of precum off the tip of my cock, and I moan. “You have to wear me the fuck out today first. And we’re skipping the gym.”

  I tap into my inner Talon as I say something that would normally fall from his mouth. “Challenge accepted.”

  We decide our first excursions outside of the bubble should be small. Jackson and Noah are on vacation, so I message Maddox and fish for an invite to his and Damon’s place in Brooklyn.

  Their place near Prospect Park is nothing to look at on the outside, but the location alone would make it cost a pretty penny.

  Guess Damon’s making a name for himself in the agenting world.

  As soon as Damon lets us into the townhouse, he claps Talon on the shoulder. “Finally let Miller out of his cage?”

  Talon practically trips over his feet.

  Maybe he’s right and we can’t go out in public.

  Damon doesn’t seem to notice Talon’s little freak-out. Or maybe Maddox told Damon after all, and Damon’s really good at hiding it.

  I hold out the bottle of wine I insisted we bring, because it’s what you do when you go to someone’s house.

  “Uh, thanks,” Damon says, seemingly surprised I have manners.

  Then I realize it’s a double date thing to do, and then even I become paranoid.

  Talon’s getting to me.

  And after an entire day full of orgasms, I don’t think my brain is working too well.

  “You’re looking good. All the hard work’s paying off,” Damon says. “How’s the leg?”

  “Yeah, only took like a million months, but I’m finally getting back in shape for when the season starts again.” I’m not there yet, but the confidence I have that’ll happen is getting stronger every day thanks to Talon.

  Damon leads us into their dining room and places the bottle of wine on the table. “Babe, they’re here.”

  “I’m trying not to burn shit. I’ll be out in a second!”

  Damon smiles. “Maddox is actually really good in the kitchen. He’s just excited you guys are here.”

  “You mean Talon,” I say.

  “Well, yeah, but I wasn’t going to be rude about it.”

  I laugh. “I’m used to it. Man, all through college, all I ever got asked about was about Talon. I used to tell people he had a small penis.”

  “Hey,” Talon whines.

  “Hey, yourself. Even with that lie, you still got laid more than the rest of the team. Combined.”

  “Damn straight,” Talon says proudly.

  Maddox appears as we’re taking our seats and places a large bowl of pasta in the middle of the table. The white sauce smells deliciously garlicky, and Talon and I try to beat each other to the serving spoon. He wins and grins at me triumphantly.

  “It’s your last contracted year with the Warriors, right?” Damon asks and pours me a glass of wine.

  I look at Talon, asking for permission to drink said wine, and he gives me a look—one that says “Drink that, and you’ll be heading to the gym when we get home.”

  After the all-day sex marathon, there’s no way I’ll be going home to have sex again, so I think fuck it. I’ll go for a run later.

  I turn to Damon. “Yeah. It’s why I have to get my leg back to one hundred percent. The chance of being ditched this year is higher.”

  “What’s Hewitt and Locke doing to secure your position?”

  The question is a valid one, but it only makes me realize they’re doing nothing to help my situation.

  “I haven’t heard from them since the initial injury. I called when I had my second surgery and left a message, but they never called back. I got an email thanking me for the update, but that was it.”

  Damon frowns. “They haven’t spoken about sponsorships or endorsement deals with you?”

  “I’m not a big enough name for any huge endorsement deals.”

  “No, but companies still pay athletes to wear their gear, get papped wearing it, and have their product all over the tabloids.”

  I’d have to be in public for that to happen.

  “Or with your injury, you could endorse rehab equipment or—”

  I knew not hearing from my agent wasn’t a good thing, but I haven’t even thought about what they could’ve been doing in the meantime.

  Talon speaks up. “Maybe you should look at how
to get out of your contract with Hewitt and Locke.”

  That surprises me, because I assumed he’d tell me to be loyal. He’s been with Touchstone Sports and the same agent since he was drafted, whereas I’ve had a couple now. Still with my same firm, but I get passed around, because I’m not one of the big guys. Offensive tackles are the second-highest-paid players in the league next to quarterbacks, but like quarterbacks, you have to be one of the greats to earn that type of money and respect, and I’m not there yet.

  “You think so?” I ask Talon. I hadn’t thought about leaving my agency, but we haven’t discussed the future either. It’s like they’re avoiding me.

  “It sounds like Damon could do a lot more for you.”

  Damon does make sense, and he does seem more competent than my current agent. We’re just numbers on Hewitt and Locke’s roster. They don’t care like Damon seems to. But something about the way Talon says it, it makes me think—

  “Wait. Are you saying this because you think I’m not going to be ready for the season?”

  One look at Talon’s guilt written across his face, and I realize that he does think I won’t be ready.

  “I’m not saying that, but it won’t hurt to have a backup plan. That’s all I’m saying.”

  He’s being smart, I know that, but it stings a little.

  I take a sip of wine. “I’ll talk to my agent.”

  “Whoa there,” Maddox says. “I remember telling you to go with Damon months ago. What makes you think he has room for you now you’re still broken?”

  Talon scowls, but Damon breaks into laughter.

  I smile too. “This is one of those times I’m supposed to ignore Maddox, right?”

  Damon nods. “Definitely. I’ll be happy to sign you if you’re on board. I don’t want to be a downer, but by the sound of it, they might be looking to drop you if they don’t care about your injury.”

  “How so?”

  “It’s what they do. I know from personal experience and from witnessing it at my own firm. Injuries are hard to sell to teams and are too much work for some people. I often wonder if I had a supportive agent if I might’ve tried to rehab my injury instead of giving up. I won’t let you give up.”

 

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