Shameless Game (Shameless Sport #1)

Chapter 22

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

“I’m ready for the butt ball.”

BEAU

Coach took it easy on us at first.

Camp started with slant routes. Colt and I can run those diagonal drills blindfolded. The same goes with Goodwin, Martinez, and Smith. The whole offensive line was in the zone.

Then we ran post and corner routes, and my completions looked good.

But today, Coach wants to run go routes. Is he testing me and my shoulder? Definitely. But I want to know, too—do I still have a golden arm?

Colt goes deep, working on his speed while I drop back, waiting, knowing he usually takes five seconds before I go for yards, thirty yards each time.

For a while, all’s good.

Our coaches are pleased. “Hawke!” They shout because that’s what he is. Colt flies down the field, able to glance, attaching his eyes to the ball like a hawk, tracking his prey until it’s in his grasp like talons.

We’re in the zone. We’re perfect. We’re in love. We’re happy, but I’m sore by the end of the day. My shoulder is tight.

Diggs, our athletic trainer, has me wearing ice packs like a frozen T-shirt during our afternoon offensive team meeting.

Colt sits next to me. We’re freshly showered. But I catch him eyeing my shoulder while our offensive coordinator reviews our drills.

“Good job.” Coach Purnell watches the screen on our playbacks. “Ball security is job security,” he praises Colt and Smith, who crushed it today.

But Colt nudges my foot, jutting his chin like, “You okay?”

I grin, shaking it off. I won’t admit to him or myself that I’m not, that I’ll suck it up all season. As long as I can pass, I’ll take the pain. I’m not going on Injury Reserve. Ever.

When we’re dismissed for the day, we head to the parking lot, tossing our bags in my Ford Super Duty cab. But then Jasper and Perry, two of our defensive linemen, spot us leaving together.

“What’s up, Bronson?” Perry calls out. “You Hawke’s chauffeur?”

“Yeah,” Colt answers, jerking his passenger door open. “And he’s my butler, too.”

Jasper looks confused, and so does Perry.

Colt and I have made it over a week at camp without questions, but it’s time to test the waters.

Let’s see if we can sell this.

I shout, “I’m letting the asshole bunk with me while he plays HGTV designer on his fancy-ass Buckhead house.”

“Man?” Jasper sizes up Colt. “You ain’t got enough green to rent?”

“Why should I?” But Hawke’s a pro smartass, too. “When I can crash at Bronson’s rent-free? He’s got a chef, a maid, and a view of my favorite eighteenth hole. I ain’t ever leaving. I’ll just keep flipping houses for millions.”

“The fuck you say.” I play along. “You got five months before I toss your shit to the curb.”

“Who was your Buckhead agent?” Jasper starts chewing the fat with Colt about Atlanta’s highest-end real-estate investments, while I hope Colt never finishes his remodel.

These past two weeks with him and Blair in my home have me smiling all the damn time.

I don’t know why I was so afraid.

Love isn’t a distraction. I’m more focused than ever. I have someone to fight for, to bust my ass for.

So far, we’ve kept our deal with Coach. Colt and I are the best we’ve ever been on the field.

And when we get home?

We start Blair’s Training Camp.

First, she jumps in my Siberian cold plunge therapy tub with us. It’s cute how quickly her shivering, blush lips turn blue. It’s adorable how Colt wraps her tight in a plush white robe when we get out.

Then, she makes us sit at the table like a family, eating the recovery meals my chef prepares. She even makes us use linen napkins on our laps.

Before bed, Blair joins me for a round of heat therapy in the hot tub. Though, that usually threatens a hot fuck, too. At least, for me.

But who knew?

My Coach of Kink is also the Diva of Dick Denial. Since training started, Blair has a new two-nights-off-one-night-on rule. She says we need our sleep.

My mind and muscles agree, though my dick has a very firm, contrary opinion.

Honking my horn, I end Colt and Jasper’s yapping. It’s an “on” night with Blair, and we need to get home. I’m sporting live ammunition in my boxers.

“Whatdaya think?” Colt tugs my truck door closed. “You think they bought it?”

“Yeah, just keep being a lying asshole.” I joke. “You know, like normal, and they’ll never suspect.”

But Colt doesn’t laugh. He mutters, “Fuck you. I ain’t a liar.”

Ouch. Someone’s hangry.

We sit in silence while my truck crawls down the interstate. Thankfully, home is only a few miles away. Still, Colt takes over the tunes, filling the awkward air with his playlist, a mash-up of rap and country.

Something’s been bothering him lately.

Yeah, we’ve had a stellar couple of weeks. We play ball all day, chill together all night, and we’re happy when we go to bed.

But I know him.

He’s usually a ray of fucking sunshine, in a sexy pain-in-the-ass way, when I’m usually the serious one.

Maybe we’ve switched roles. Maybe I’m so damn happy now, so he’s serious. Still, you don’t love someone this long and not ask.

“Hey,” I take the next exit ramp, “what’s bothering you?”

“Nothing.”

“Liar.”

“I don’t wanna talk about it.”

I turn left and let it brew before asking, “Is it about Blair? Or us?” I pause. “Or your mom?”

Last week was a year. It was a year since she died, and I held Colt at her grave. The entire organization was at her funeral. The team office canceled camp for the day so we could support him.

I remembered, so Blair and I bought flowers. Yellow roses were Celeste’s favorite. We drove with Colt two hours to Alabama to visit her grave this past Sunday. We refreshed the vase at her headstone and said some prayers, and that night, Colt held Blair while I held him. He’d never been so quiet before.

Yes, time heals, but it doesn’t happen overnight or in a year.

“Whatever it is,” I tell him, “I got you, man. There’s nothing we can’t talk about.”

“Thanks,” he mutters, staring out of the passenger window.

I can’t tell if he’s crying, but he should. He should get it out. So I reach across the wide console, trying to find his hand.

“Dude,” he huffs, “two hands on the wheel.”

“We’re fine.”

“We’ve got a winning season before us.” He sounds okay. “So don’t wreck it. Hands on the wheel and eyes on the road. Atlanta traffic is where the dumbasses come out to play.”

He’s right, so I retreat.

“But thanks,” he says. “We can always talk, no matter what happens. Right? You won’t give up on me?”

I try teasing, cheering him up. “My ass is always here for ya, man.”

Holding the wheel, I steal a glance, and he looks at me.

In that way.

Pensive. Possessive. Passionate.

“I know what’s on your mind.” So I keep poking, trying to make him smile. “You’re finally ready for me, aren’t you?”

It works. He grins. “You running a high temperature for me, Bronson?”

“Hell yeah, I’m hot for you. For twelve damn years. I’m so ready to blow.”

“You can blow in my mouth.”

“Been there. Jizzed on the T-shirt. Loved the jaw fest. But now I’m ready for the butt ball.”

A deep laugh erupts from his scruffy throat. “You sound like Blair.”

“Our woman rubs off on us, alright.”

“She keeps making us wait two nights.”

“But she’s right. If we fucked like we want, our asses would be dragging at camp.”

“Speaking of asses and camp.” While I pull into my garage, he insists, “No anal before camp. We’re sore enough as it is. We gotta wait until Saturday.”

What?

Are Colt and Blair in cahoots? Are they secretly meeting in the shower without me? Because she signs on to his no-anal-before-camp rule, too.

We shiver in the ice bath, her teeth chattering while she proclaims, “Anal, only before you have a day off. All season.”

“Damn,” I groan, freezing, squatting to where my shoulder is underwater because it’s so painful, it’s good for me. “Your asses have more rules than the NFL.”

“No,” she snuggles against my chest, “I’m freezing my ass off, trying to support your asses playing for the NFL.”

I wrap my arms around her. Colt joins us, trapping her between us. Staying warm together defeats the purpose of an ice bath, but our bodies can’t resist.

“But, Baabbyy,” I try whining, making a puppy-dog face for her, “you got us all kinky for the boom-boom, now.”

She pops her smiling blue lips. “Nope.”

Colt presses into her. “But you don’t play for the NFL. Why can’t we play in your backyard tonight? We promise we’ll play nice and take turns.”

She laughs, reaching, double-fisting our cocks. “You can’t play with these wet noodles.”

“This water is forty degrees,” I inform her. “Every man’s soft cock retreats up his ass to stay warm.”

Colt laughs. “I don’t know how the Vikings did it.”

“They fucked by the fire,” I answer.

But I try obeying Blair’s rules.

She understands us. She keeps us on a regimen. She makes our care a top priority. She’s even got our dicks on a strict routine.

Hell, she’s got our throuple covered, too. Blair’s arranged for us to meet Colt’s beard this weekend.

I don’t know who Ruby Jones is, but Blair says we can trust her. So much so that Ruby’s flying to Atlanta. We have a double date this Saturday night. My publicist will leak it. The damn paparazzi will be there. We’ll be busted, leaving some fancy restaurant, me holding Blair’s hand and Colt’s arm around Ruby.

We’ll debut our girlfriends, and that should shut down Amber Kostas and her Insta bullshit.

She’s relentless. She found out about Blair’s dad, and now she’s riled up my fans, posting, “Blair Monroe is a sports sl*t like her PGA dad. She’ll kill Beau’s game.”

We ignore her, but it gets to Blair.

So, every day, Blair’s new fantasy alien quarterback boyfriend has something blue delivered to our house while we’re at camp. Blue iced cupcakes. Blueberry muffins. Blue slippers. Blue soaps shaped like roses. A blue heart jeweled anal plug.

I’m driving my personal assistant, Matt, crazy, but it’s what I pay him for.

I even encouraged Blair to invite her dad over for a Sunday cookout. She said he wants to meet me and give us relationship advice, which is rich coming from him, but I love her.

It should be okay with Ruby here for that, too, acting as Colt’s girlfriend. Blair’s dad will have no idea, and then he’ll leave us in peace.

See? She’s training me.

I listen to Blair.

Who, by the way, takes half an hour to get ready for bed. Is that normal for women? It’s like she’s warming her face up for an overnight workout.

It finds Colt and me, usually half asleep, waiting for her to turn off the lights and join us.

But tonight, he’s quiet again, and I can’t shake the feeling that something’s wrong.

“Hey.” I kiss his shoulder. “I meant it. I’m always here for you.”

His back is pressed to my chest. I reach, tucking my arm under his to caress his pecs, like I need to rub his heart so he’ll know I’m sincere.

He cups his hand over mine. “What if I piss you off?”

“You do it all the time.” I wedge into his heat. “If you and Blair pull that shit again, leaving fake cockroaches in my gym bag and a goddamn fake spider on my ear when I wake up, I’m never speaking to you again.”

I feel him laugh, barely. “What if it ain’t a joke?” His voice gets gruff. “What if it’s serious?”

“Then we work it out.” I press into him, kissing his neck. I’m getting hard, and I don’t fight it. When it’s me and Colt, the feelings run too strong. “Don’t ever doubt me.” I squeeze him, gently biting his neck and rutting into his tempting backside. “Don’t ever doubt us.”

His breath changes. Heat rises from his flesh pressed to mine. “Promise?” he asks, squeezing his hand over mine and guiding it down over the granite ridges of his abs. “Promise I’ll always have you, Beau.”

We sleep nude, and as he urges my hand down to his cock, I sigh into his skin. “I promise, Colt. I promise I’m yours, and I’ll prove it.”

I grab his swollen length, guided by his hand. Moans erupt from our chests as I stroke him, my body needing him, too. This maddening urge has me grinding into his backside, my hard cock wedged between his cheeks. “Take me,” I steam over his ear. “Take me and my promise, Colt.”

“Fuck,” he mutters, arching his back, opening for me. He grinds, matching my tempo, his cock, hard but like velvet, swelling in my grasp. He wants me so bad, I know it. For so long, we’ve wanted this. I don’t know why he keeps denying us.

“Do you want me?” I nip his ear. “Do you want to take me?”

“Yes,” he growls. “Yes, so fucking much, Beau.”

“Then do it. Take what you need from me. I’ll prove I’m yours.”

Colt twists in my grasp, his lips quickly seizing mine. Our deep kiss is our promise. It always has been. His tongue finds mine while his fist grabs my cock, and I pump his. Groans fill our mouths, our breath intertwined, our tongues laving over the other.

“Beau,” he growls over our lips. “Beau, I want to take you now.”

“Do it,” I urge.

“But—” Colt’s worried about our rule, about camp tomorrow, and so much more.

“Do it.” A gentle voice urges, and we turn our cheeks, pressing together to find Blair by the edge of the bed. She’s nude, her curves breathtaking, her hand offering a bottle of lube. “But use lots of this.” She hands it to Colt before turning to leave.

But Colt demands, “Stay, Raven. Stay and watch us. I want you here.”

She turns back, arching a brow. “You sure?”

“Yes,” Colt insists. “It feels right. I want you to see me, to see us together.”

Quietly, Blair eases onto a spot at the edge of my bed. She gives us room while I rest on a pillow and watch Colt. He wants control of this.

Kneeling over me, he fills his palm with lube. With long strokes, he coats my hungry shaft, and I fight the sudden urge to fuck his slick fist. “Damn, Colt,” I growl. “Damn, I want you.”

“Oh, you’ll have me.” He demands, slinging his leg over mine, straddling me. “And you’ll take me raw. I got tested. I’m clear, and I want to feel this. I want to feel you come inside me.”

With a deep inhale, I find my control. It takes so much for me to hold still, for me not to thrust or grab while Colt reaches behind him, slowly trying to wedge my hard cock inside him.

But I’m so sensitive. I’ve wanted this so much and for so long, and he’s so fucking tight, I’m panting. I hold still, sweating and staring up at him. He’s beautiful, ripped with muscles and ink, our ink, but he’s trusting, receiving. He’s taking his time; he’s taking me in.

“Ah,” he keeps groaning at my penetration. “Ah,” he keeps stretching at my width. “Ah,” he winces before exhaling, barely sinking an inch, then lifting on my glistening shaft.

“Colt,” I growl. I ache because he’s so hard. His cock is swollen, jutting high and hard, trapping my stare while his ass strangles my crown, his fist squeezing my shaft. It steals my breath. It’s more than I ever imagined. It’s the ultimate surrender and seizure, his body finally taking mine. But he’s trying to take all of me and sink to my base slowly.

“Ah,” but his face twists, his massive quads straining. He squats, then quickly lifts, trying to take my dick, but he can’t.

“Colt, baby,” I huff. “Is it good? Do you like it?”

“Fuck yes,” he growls. “Fuck yes. I want you in my ass, but you’re so fucking huge.”

“Take your time,” Blair eases. “Breathe. Start over and go slow. Use more lube.”

Colt listens to her. He rises, holding my swollen dick that’s begging for him. He pours so much lube over it we’ll need to change the sheets, and I love it.

I love how he slowly takes me this time, my crown dripping like honey, ready for his sweet ass. I love how he gazes at me, his face relaxing. The muscles ripping across his chest and down his abs release their tension as he exhales and lowers, taking more of me than before.

It makes me fist the sheets to keep from grabbing him, from taking him. For so long, I’ve wanted Colt; I’ve needed him just like this, and I groan. The urge to thrust is overwhelming, but I fight it, gnashing my molars to keep from driving into him while, inch by inch, my cock disappears inside him.

A luscious smack fills the air, and I glance, called by the sound. My heart, my body can’t resist it. It’s Blair’s wet pussy. She’s fingering herself, plunging two inside her beautiful, pink cunt. She’s spread her legs so we can watch her while she watches me fuck Colt.

She only makes this harder—she only makes me harder. Instincts, urges, and hunger rage inside me. I can’t hold back.

“Damn, Colt,” I growl. “Damn, baby, I need to fuck you.”

“Do it.” Colt groans. He holds still, half of me inside him, half of me begging to enter. “Please,” he begs. “Fuck my ass now. Do it.”

I grab his hips. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t.” He stares at me, hovering over my shaft, rubbing his pecs and pinching his nipples. I’m drawn, knowing how sensitive they are. I’m anchored to his breath, shallow with lust. I crave how raging hard, how swollen his dick is for me. I relish his tight virgin ass clenching my cock. “I’m about to come,” he grunts. “Do it, Beau. Fuck my ass and make me come.”

With my first hard thrust, his cock spurts. It shocks me. It shocks him. He cries out, splattering my abs with his cum, but he’s still rigid, veins swollen, his length bobbing.

“Fuck,” he growls. “Keep going. Keep making me come. I’m not done.”

I pump my hips, unleashing the strength I have in my glutes, in my flexing thighs, taking his ass. I’ve never seen his thighs twitch so hard. His breath heave so much. His body shake so hard. His bouncing hard cock drips while he keeps pinching his nipples, staring down at me in awe.

“Fuck,” he shouts again at my next brutal thrust, his dick spurting even more. “Fuck, Beau, I can’t stop coming. I can’t stop coming. Keep fucking my ass.”

“You’re hitting his prostate,” Blair praises. “You’re giving him the ultimate orgasm.”

“Fuck, yes, I am,” I growl. I deliver. “Is that right, Colt? Am I the best? You’re coming so hard with my dick fucking your tight virgin ass?”

“Yes!” He cries out, more cum blasting from his cock, splattering my pecs and driving me insane.

“Fuck!” I can’t stop fucking him.

“Damn,” Blair stammers at our passion. I glance over, and her thighs quiver. She’s coming to it. To our bodies. To our fuck. To our love. To Colt’s hard bouncing cock that clearly loves this, too. He loves me fucking him.

“Baby.” I grab his hips tighter. “Baby, I’m gonna come. I’m gonna come so hard in your ass, Colt.”

“Do it. Do it,” he begs.

I lift my hips, pumping so hard inside him, unleashing everything I’ve held back, everything we hid, everything that hurt, and everything that’s healed. It’s here, burning through me like white fire in my veins, and I let go. I let go inside Colt. With a brutal thrust, I still, my hips lifted off the bed. I bury my cock, so deep where it belongs. It pulses, making stars fill my vision while I roar, while I release, while I come inside Colt with no shame.

“Ugh,” he grunts, releasing once more, spilling his cum over my abs. “Ugh, Beau, yes. Yes.”

He collapses over me, braced on his arms, our lungs still huffing for breath while he seeks my kiss, and I give it. I give him everything. I give her everything. All I need is them. Nothing else.

“Dayum,” he sighs over our lips. “Fuck the training camp rule, we’re doing this every night.”

It makes us laugh, which makes him wince with my dick still inside him. Then we kiss again while I cup his cheek, caressing his whiskers, before I hear her soft moan.

We turn and answer Blair’s call. We need her, too. We disconnect our bodies to seek hers, to spread her thighs wide open while we lie on our stomachs, side by side, devouring her pussy. It’s erotic. It’s intimate. It’s our bond. It’s my tongue, slowly rolling over her hard clit, before I kiss Colt, and he does it too, tonguing her clit.

We take turns. We make Blair fist our hair. We make her lift her hips. We make her pussy come on our kiss. We hold each other later while we make her agree, “Okay,” she says, “maybe a little anal training camp is okay, too.”

“Hear that, Colt?” He rests on my shoulder while Blair lies on my chest. “Coach Kink said we can play all season.”

“Just as long as you win,” she says.

When I hold my world in my arms, I believe. “Oh, we will.”