Shameless Game (Shameless Sport #1)

Chapter 13

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

“Seduce the hell out of her.”

COLTON

Which is worse?

Being trapped on this tiny island or being trapped in these big feelings? This goddamn love and lust I can’t escape.

I just had my dick, my kiss, and my mind blown, and now my heart’s in a million pieces.

And we’re supposed to be here getting our shit together, not wrecking our lives even more.

I go to slam my bedroom door behind me, but “Colt!” Beau’s right on my heels, slamming it back open.

“What?” I whip around.

“Talk to me.” He stands there, naked and ripping my last breath away.

“What do you want me to say?”

“How you feel.”

“You know how I feel.” My voice raises with my pulse. “Since we were eighteen, you’ve known how I feel. It hasn’t changed, Beau. I love you. I want to be with you. And now,” I gesture toward the outside, where I’m sure Blair can hear me, “I want her, too. I’m falling for her, and I want to be with her and you, and we can’t so end of fucking story, right?”

“I don’t want it to be the end,” he says. “I want us together, too.”

“But how?” I ask. “You won’t come out. We can’t be out. I fucking hate it, but I get it. But at least you two can be together. And if you’d finally get your head out of your ass about it, you can be happy with her, and I want you to be. I want you to be with her, and it’s gonna hurt like hell because I want us together, too, but at least fucking do that. Be with her. Make all this pain, all this shit worth it.”

Fuck, it’s burning my eyes.

Losing my mom. Never having him. Meeting an incredible woman like Blair.

It’s all love I can’t hang on to. It slips right through my grasp.

And he sees it.

Beau sees it brimming over my lashes, and he reaches for me. He buries my face in his neck, his cheek pressed against mine.

“I’m so fucked,” he says. “Because I’m so in love with you and her, too, and I don’t know how to be with one of you, let alone both of you.”

“Just do it. Just let her lead the way.” I can feel it in my heart. “Trust her. Listen to her. Try with her, and at least y’all will be okay. It’ll work. You know I’m right.”

He pulls back, his blue eyes searching mine. “Nothing will ever be right, Colt, if you’re not with me, too.”

His kiss is tender. His mouth tastes like us and Blair and everything I need.

“That’s why we lost,” he sighs over my lips, “and we know it.”

I can relive that moment a million times—the moment Beau’s pass slipped right through my grasp.

I can’t tell you what I was thinking, find the words for my journal, or explain it to Dr. Gary.

The truth is I wasn’t thinking.

I was feeling.

I was feeling everything I couldn’t have. Victory. Love. Happiness.

None of it was mine.

“For a split second,” Beau confesses, nestling his forehead to mine, “I wasn’t passing the ball. It was my fucking heart for you. When I’m in the pocket, I can always find you. No matter the pressure, I can sense you. I know you’re waiting for me. You’ll be there. But that day, that game, and that throw, I was scared. After our night together. After I got to hold you, I didn’t trust it anymore. I didn’t know what to do, so I just threw the ball, like my heart, hoping Fate or you would catch it, and when you didn’t, I felt it was a sign. It was our answer. We lost. That’s what made me so fucking mad. Not you. I never blamed you.”

“I blame myself,” I answer. “I should’ve caught it. But it’d been a rough year. My mom.” My throat burns. It strangles. “You. Amber and her bullshit. Maybe, deep down, I wanted to lose because I don’t know how we can ever win.”

He wedges his body even closer to mine, touching mine, and it’s like we’re searching. It’s like only together, will we find the answer.

And then he grins. Beau gives me that sexy-as-fuck grin that finds my heart every time. “So, you admit you tipped the ball.”

“Yeah,” I answer, “because you put too much gas on it.”

His next laughing kiss takes me, urging me back against the bed. We fall together, and it’s not about fucking; it’s about forgiveness.

Naked, we wrap around each other, my legs twisting with his, my arms holding him tight. Yes, it makes us hard, but this is healing.

“So this is our breakthrough?” I chuckle into Beau’s kiss. “Coach and Dr. Gary will be so proud.”

He smiles, but Beau’s always wise. Well, about most shit. “We still got a long way to go,” he says. “We gotta figure out how it won’t happen again. How to keep our heads straight when our hearts are like this.”

Our bare chests press together, and yes, I can feel his heart beating against mine, wanting what I want, too.

So, I blurt out a plan—a wish I’ve had for months, really—but what do I have to lose?

“I’ll move in with you,” I tell him. “That’s how our hearts will survive.” Fear lands in his eyes, so I explain, “My renovation is taking forever. The contractor says nine more months, but you know that means at least a year. And everyone knows you have a big ass house on our favorite golf course, twenty minutes from our facility, and it makes sense. Players room together all the time.”

“Rookies and third-string players,” he answers. “Not us.”

“Dude, no one will care. They know we’re best friends. They know your house is fucking huge and convenient and?—”

“It was an investment.”

“I’m sure it was, and they know, after my mom died, I bought a house in Buckhead as a fresh start. As an investment, too. I’ve been bitching about the price and remodel ever since. It can work.”

“Have you been thinking about this all along?”

“No.” My heart clenches. “I mean, yeah. Sorta. When Amber was in the picture? Hell no. I wanted to be alone. But with her gone, with me free and us like this?” I rub my leg against his. “It’s our chance.”

“So you move in, and then what?” He’s not convinced.

“Then, we’ll be together. We’ll have the best season. We’ll win the Super Bowl and the rings, and we’ll figure it out.”

“But… ” Beau can’t accept it. The solution is that simple. “But people will say shit.”

“No, they won’t,” I answer, and he raises a brow. “Okay, fine. Some will. Some guys will always talk smack. It doesn’t matter because once Blair is living with you, too, and?—”

“Living with me?”

“Yeah, living with you. You’re going to give her what she deserves. A chance. A try. Some devotion and not be like her dickhead dad.”

“Fuck.” He rolls his eyes, but his smile cracks through. “She already jokes she’s my beard, and now you want to make it official? You want her living with us?”

I caress his chest. It’s a magnet for my eyes. “She’s not your beard. You love her, too. I never understood why you were with Reese because you’ve clearly been in love with Blair all along.”

“Reese had issues,” he explains. “She needed me. She?—”

“She needed help,” I mumble. “I’m well aware.” His brows pinch but now’s not the time. That’s the past, and our future is right in our grasp. “But Blair takes care of you. She wants what’s best for you. Hell, she waltzes that fine ass of hers around here in a sexy thong, trying to make us quit fighting, and if that ain’t love… ”

“She won’t fuck me though. She’s afraid she’ll get hurt. She’s afraid we won’t work.” Subtly, he thrusts against me. I don’t think he’s aware. It’s instinct; his body needs mine, and I feel the same. About him. About her. “So now I have a helluva bet to win.”

“Please,” I huff. “You’ll win. I’ll help you. She’ll be your real girlfriend. None of this fake shit. She’ll love you and fuck you and move in with you.” I grin. “With us. You just gotta convince her you’re legit. That you’re devoted. That this is about more than a bet.”

“I don’t know.” His brows furrow. “We gotta play this right. We gotta make her think she’s won the bet. Blair’s too proud and stubborn and?—”

I debate, “And smart, beautiful, and worth fighting for.”

“That’s it,” the pranking devil says, his eyes ablaze. “That’s the plan. We keep acting like we’re fighting, and she’ll keep tempting us when, really, I’m seducing her.”

“Do it. Seduce the hell out of her.”

He grins. “And she doesn’t make you jealous?”

“Oh, I get jealous. I’ll kill any man who touches you. But her? No. Question is, will you get jealous of me fucking her, too?”

He tackles me, rolling on top and grabbing my arms. I let him pin them above my head. He starts frotting me again. It’s so familiar, such a fetish of ours, driving us crazy. “You want to fuck my woman, Hawke?”

“You know I do.” I lift my hips to his, seeking him, matching his cadence. “Like I want to fuck you, too.”

He leans down. I can smell his trim beard, and it makes me moan. Like a feral marker on his flesh, it holds the primal aroma of Blair’s cum on his whiskers. Like now, she’s in our blood. Like now, she’s our mate to share.

Like she’s here with us while he bites my ear, whispering, “I want you to fuck my ass, too, Colt.” He thrusts. “You can fuck my ass while I fuck her sweet pussy.” And I groan. “Then I’ll fuck you so hard while I let you fuck her, too.” He thrusts again, and I grunt. “There’s no top or bottom. I want us too much. The three of us. I’m not jealous; I’m in love.”

And I’m losing control.

I’m getting what I’ve always wished for.

It has me claiming his mouth and bowing my back, rubbing and thrusting my hungry dick against his, seeking our sudden, gasping, creamy end because we want this too much.

We want our beginning.