Offense & Defense: A MMF Sports Romance Page 10

I want it all.

  12

  SportsNation

  SportsNation Highlights

  Hello, and welcome to SportsNation Highlights. It's Monday and I'm your host for the evening, Lauren Valderrama. With me, we have today our special guest, Larry Summers, once special counsel to the Prince of St. Albans, Anders Blaine. Larry has recently opened up his public relations firm, Summers Consulting, which deals with athletes, celebrities, and the issues that they face.

  Lauren: Larry, so what do you think of the latest development in the saga of the New York Nailers?

  Larry (shrugging): I honestly don't think that on the face of it, it’s that big of a deal. But remember, that's if you look at it as an isolated incident. Most likely the public would gossip about it for a day or two, but then News of the Times would move onto another story...

  Lauren: That's right. I mean, a man is leaving a woman's apartment.

  Cut to video:

  Silent footage of Colt. He is outside Julianna's door. It's evening and his clothing is disheveled as he walks out. He reaches into his pants and pulls out a pair of black lace panties. He brings them to his nose and smells deeply. The door opens up as he’s about to walk away and Julianna emerges. She says something and he rushes over and kisses her. She seems to be saying something, trying to explain but he stops her with a kiss and grabs her ass. Her robe falls open and the camera partially catches the side of her bare breast.

  The two part, and she says something and smiles wickedly at him, and rubs her hand on his crotch. The two laugh and exchange a few words before he twirls the pair of panties and walks to the elevator. Julianna watches for a few moments before closing the door.

  Cut back to Lauren:

  Lauren: That video started appearing on the internet around 6 pm this evening and the news organizations around the country have been abuzz with activity.

  Larry: That's right Pamela. It's important to remember that by itself, this isn't that damning. It's not like Colt Stackford has a wife and kids. It's not like Julianna Heaton is breaking up any marriage. But...

  Lauren: What's the but?

  Larry: But, taken into consideration that it clearly indicates that Colt was in an intimate encounter with Julianna and prior to Sunday's game the gossip columns were ablaze with the drone video of Julianna and Ethan Blake, this one is going to do more than turn a few heads.

  Lauren: What's wrong with a woman going out and sowing some wild oats of her own though, Larry?

  Larry: There's nothing wrong with that. But from an image perspective, if Julianna Heaton were my client today, I'd be telling her that she is going to have an image problem with the general media. It's ironic that the wider population may excuse her sexual proclivities, but the media is going to latch onto this like it's a wild hyena and not let go until the next story breaks.

  Lauren: Julianna didn't look like she was worried there much about anything, did it? I mean, she seems to have rushed to the door to say goodbye before he left. It’s almost as if she’s fighting the urge to care for him.

  Larry: It actually didn't at all. And I have to hand it to her, she's always been a ball-buster. Wait, can I say ball-buster on TV?

  Lauren (rolling her eyes): You just did. But that's beyond the point. What would you advise her to do?

  Larry: I'd advise her to send put me on special retainer because the metaphorical poo is going to start hitting the fan. And not just for her, but quite possible for Colt and Ethan. Both having been seen with her in just a matter of a few days. Can you imagine with anyone else, but with these two, and their intense rivalry over the last decade and half, what kind of story that makes for our scandal-obsessed media? They might start running polls on CNN as to which man the public prefers her to be with. It's a foregone conclusion that for the next several news cycle's Julianna, Colt, and Ethan may have to move into convents and monasteries if they want any private life to remain.

  Lauren: And there you have it - from the man who was responsible for rescuing Prince Sin from his legal troubles. Thank you, Larry Summers.

  Stay tuned for our next segment, analyzing the lace in the panties that Julianna handed to Colt Stackford. Is the Queen of the NFL shopping at La Perla or Victoria's Secret? And then afterwards, have you joined the hottest new author, Alexis Angel’s mailing list yet? You may want to when you find out what she has cooked up for her readers.

  Cut to commercial.

  13

  Ethan

  "Now you've really lost your fucking mind," Colt says, anger flashing in his eyes. "I got that game ball for being the MVP, and I think you're forgetting that." I watched him as he spoke. Yes, that's Colt for you. Some things never change. It's annoying how arrogant he can be. He is blinded by pride, but I'm not about to let this one go.

  "So my three sacks don't count?" I ask. "You played well in that game, don't get me wrong—but Julianna gave you that ball to even the score."

  "What fucking score?"

  "Come on. You know as well as I do. I knew you could be thick headed, but I thought you were smarter than this. Do I really have to spell it out for you?" I asked.

  We were standing in the New York Nailers' luxury skybox. Besides Colt's raised voice, the room was especially quiet. The windows overlooked an empty football field, and the recessed lighting in the ceilings cast an almost muted orange glow, making the room feel even more hushed. During game days, this room was packed with high roller spectators vying for a good seat, but today, Colt and I had the room just to ourselves. After practice on most days, they put out a spread for the players. I usually skip it – but decided to stop in today towards the end. That’s when I ran into Colt. And one thing led to another, like it always does with us, and here we are.

  Two large, round mahogany tables sat in the center, topped with a spread of food—an assortment of fruit, soft cheeses that looked like brie and camembert, toasted French breads, and thinly sliced prosciutto—sliced so thin they were almost see through. I grabbed a slice of the cured ham, balanced it on top of a hard piece of bread, and took a bite. The crunch of the bread was louder than I had expected. I chewed carefully before responding to Colt.

  "She's the owner of this franchise. Don't you think she's trying to keep things fair?" I ask. It's clear to me that I'll never be able to get through to Colt. I'd like to hit him. I really would. I have an overwhelming urge to knock some sense into him, but I'm trying to take the high road. I can't do anything that would jeopardize my chances of making it on this team. I'm not going to let him bring me down. I take a sip of water to try to quell the fiery rage building inside of me.

  "You're fucking jealous, Ethan. I can see it written all over your face. You can't keep riding my coattails. You've done it long enough—both on and off the field."

  It was a good thing I drank that water. Now I really wanted to hit him. I had to blink back the heat that was building behind my eyes. I balled my fists almost involuntarily.

  "Why do you care so much?" I ask through gritted teeth. "You can have any girl—and you do! You've slept with just about every woman from here to Miami to Los Angeles and every city in between, so why her?"

  "She's a good fuck, what can I say,” Colt says this with a casual shrug of his shoulders, but I can read the forced indifference in his body language.

  "You're a bastard. Have you ever stopped to think that maybe I have a deep connection with this woman—that I might actually love her?"

  Colt laughs. "Are you fucking kidding me, Ethan? What is this, elementary school? You think you have a connection with every woman who so much as smiles at you. You're more naïve than I thought. She's way too much woman for you. Besides, with the way we fucked, there's no way you have the kind of connection with her that you think you do. You should have heard her scream."

  That was it. I throw my bottle of water to the ground, and a few drops hit Colt in the face. I advance closer to him, my heart thumping in my chest. Why do I keep letting Colt Stackford get under my skin like this?

>   "Don't talk about her like that!” I growl. “You want to know something? You're so mixed up, I almost feel sorry for you. A grown man like you doesn't even know the difference between sex and love."

  "You don't know shit about me!" Colt yells. "And if you think she's in love with you, you're an even bigger fucking idiot than I thought." His normally warm, brown eyes darken, like a cave holding frightening secrets. I can see his nostrils flare, and I think he’s going to try to hit me, but he holds back. We stand there in silence for a moment, and I suddenly feel my cock get hard. Why was this happening? Was it the adrenaline, or something else? But just as he advances closer, the door opens.

  There, standing in the doorway is Julianna. She looks stunning and my pulse quickened. She’s wearing a smoking hot, black mini dress that hugged her tight curves. The top section of the dress is lacey and revealed her creamy white skin underneath. It also has a deep, wide V in the front of the exposed mounds of her perfect breasts. If she’s trying to make a statement, it’s working. I feel my cock twitch.

  She looks at both of us. "This room feels awfully tense. What's wrong, boys?"

  Colt and I look at each other. No one wants to volunteer to speak first, but Colt finally says, "This fucking guy can't accept defeat." He was pointing a finger in my direction.

  "Get over yourselves," Julianna says. "You're both great players."

  Colt and I don't know what to say. She isn't the kind of woman you argued with. She has a commanding presence, and we are her captive audience. But then I speak up, "Look, we know that you've slept with both of us—I mean, the whole world knows now. And we wanted you to choose. It's either me or him."

  "Yes, I've fucked you both," she says dismissively, "And I can honestly say that both of you were amazingly delicious. You've intensified my appetite, and I'm feeling downright ravenous."

  "Choose," Colt demands, not bothering to listen.

  "Choose what?" she asks, as if she didn't remember what we were talking about.

  "One of us," I say – surprised that I have a moment of agreement with Colt.

  "I mean, the choice is obvious, isn't it?” Colt asks. “Ethan is outmatched here. It's better to break his poor, bleeding heart now."

  "How can anyone choose such a deeply flawed person such as yourself?" I shoot back. I hate Colt. I really do. The nerve of this idiot. It took every ounce of my patience to not hit him and shut him up for good. Who did he think he was?

  "You have to choose," Colt continued. His patience is running thin. But so was mine. "You can't have both of us," I say.

  "I can't?" she asked, raising her eyebrows and moving in closer, as if this question was a dare. "Who says?"

  The air in the room was shifting. We can all feel it. She saunters over to one of the mahogany tables, swinging her hips, and picks up a strawberry from the fruit platter. She carefully brings it to her mouth, taking a bite. A small dribble of the berry's juice run down her chin and she wipes it away with her finger. She then puts her wet finger into her mouth, slowly sucking on it. My pulse is now off the charts – my heart beating wildly.

  "Try one," she said, placing a strawberry in between my lips. I bit down, tasting the sweetness run down the back of my throat. She approaches me, and runs her hand down my chest until it’s just above my belt buckle. She then dips her fingers down the inside of my waistband, and my whole body trembles, wanting more, but she withdraws her hand, and instead places it on my cheek. She drags her finger across my bottom lip and then draws closer, pressing her lips to mine. I instinctively open my mouth, taking her in. Our tongues press tightly against each other and her warmth is intoxicating. She runs her fingers through my hair, running her nails against my scalp in a way that brings shivers down my spine. My entire body is electrified.

  She then withdraws, and grabs another strawberry from the table. She takes a bite, and holding the other half in her hand, walks over to Colt. He stands there in stunned silence. I have never seen him so quiet. Where is the Colt I know? It’s clear that we are both under her spell. She rubs the berry against his bottom lip until its sticky with the juice.

  "I want to know what this tastes like on you," she purrs with a devilish grin, and then she draws his lip into her mouth, sucking on it hard. And then, giving it a quick bite, I can see his bottom lip held gently in between her teeth.

  "Why should I choose?" she asks.

  Colt and I don’t dare move. That’s right. You heard me correctly. Two alpha male pro football players. Entranced. Frozen. By this woman. The truth is that neither of us knows what her plan is, but whatever it was, we’re just along for the ride. Julianna walks over to me and wraps her hands around my neck. She leans into my ear and whispers, "Both of you are getting me so hot." I feel her warm breath on my neck, and then I feel her tongue slowly trace the ridges of my ear and my whole body involuntarily shivers. She pushes her body into mine, and I feel the curves of her breasts firmly press against my chest. I reach up to run my fingers through her soft, blonde locks, and overwhelmed by the moment, I grab a fistful of her hair and pull her head back.

  I lean in and kiss her open mouth, our tongues lashing at each other, and then I relax my grip. I move my hands down to her waist, holding onto her hips. I wonder what Colt is thinking now. I see him standing next to us, intently watching. Is he brooding, or did this turn him on? I can't tell. Just a few moments ago we were ready to smash each other's faces in, and now this woman has us entranced.

  Julianna reaches over and grabbed Colt's shirt, drawing him closer. He obeys, and now he stands so close to us that I can feel the warmth from both of their bodies. He seems to be breathing heavy now. My cock is so hard; I think it might bust through the fabric of my pants.

  Julianna looks at Colt and asks, "Those berries were good, but they were missing something…” she trails off. Her eyes find his and she continues, “Yes, that's it, they were missing the cream."

  She unbuttons his shirt and then rakes her nails across his rippled and muscular chest. Colt lets out a breath of air, as if he’s been holding it in for some time. Then she plunges her hand down into his pants, inside of his boxer briefs and out of sight. His abs flex under her touch and he throws his head back in ecstasy.

  "Oh fuck," he moans, as she firmly works her hand around his cock. Most women don't know how to grab a man's dick. They’re intimidated, or maybe unsure, like if they grab too hard, they might break it. But that's not the case with Julianna. She knows exactly what she's doing, and she knows it.

  After a few moments, she releases her grip and unbuttons his pants. Once unbuttoned, she slowly draws his zipper down, and then we watch as his pants fell to the floor, bunched around his feet. She smiled and slowly tugs his boxer briefs down past his hips. His cock is so hard that it springs forward with the force of a pulled rubber band, standing as proud as a totem pole in front of him. In that moment, I realize that I have never seen Colt's cock before—I mean, not like this. Sure, there were moments in the locker room when I might inadvertently catch a glimpse while he was toweling himself off from a shower, but it was certainly never standing at full mast like this. It wasn't unlike my own cock. Each of us is at around 12 inches.

  Christ. That’s two feet of fuck muscle that we’re going to be putting inside this woman.

  Why am I thinking about his cock?

  It has to be the intensity of the situation, but before I can give it a second thought, I feel Julianna's body back on mine.

  14

  Julianna

  I've said it before and I'll say it again: I don't like to choose. Colt or Ethan? There’s only one possible answer and it’s a pretty obvious one. I want both of them...

  You might think it's because I'm greedy, and that I just want them all to myself. But it's more than that. I don't like choosing, but this time, I truly can't do it. How could I? Do I pick Colt's sexy brashness or Ethan's brooding and irresistible silences? It's simply impossible for me to choose. They're different and, yet, they’re both perfect. />
  In a way, Ethan and Colt complement each other, like two pieces of a puzzle. And why would I be content with just one piece? I want – no, need – the whole set.

  My fingers are already tightly wrapped around Colt's cock, his thickness pulsing against my smooth skin. I grin at him, his lips slightly parted as I start moving my hand back and forth with slow and teasing movements. Looking over my shoulder at Ethan, I can almost feel all the pent-up desire hiding behind his eyes. His pants are tented, his cock pushing hard against the fabric as he takes in the sight of my hand on his nemesis cock.

  "Are you just going to stand there and look?" I ask him, the words drawling out of my mouth in a half-purr, each syllable like a jab designed with the intent of spurring him into action. He swallows in his hesitancy, his Adam's apple moving up and down as he steels his face, his lips an almost inscrutable line. For half a second, I think he's going to turn on his feet and bolt out of the door. But I'm just being silly, really: these two can't get enough of me. Even if they have to share.

  Ethan licks his dry lips, his body leaning forwards as he takes one step towards me and Colt. I reach for him with my hand, my fingers grabbing at his belt and pulling him close. I push on the hem of his pants and, before he can react, I slide my fingers under his trousers and boxer briefs, feeling the aching warmness of his cock. I open the palm of my hand and, straining against the hold of his pants, grab his member harshly.

  I turn my attention back to Colt, my heart starting to race faster, each beat of it sending a hefty dosage of desire towards my loins. My insides are burning up, the sweet spot between my thighs becoming wetter by the second.