Chapter 13
W hen I woke up in a tangle of limbs the following morning, I’m not going to lie, my mind went right to the gutter. Two glorious chests pressed against me, and Frankie had a leg slung over mine, and more amusingly, over Dylan as well.
I needed to pee, but I was just way too comfy to move just yet.
Frankie had his face buried in the back of my neck, the steady deep breaths of sleep whispering over my skin.
Dylan had his face snuggled into my chest, literally he was nose to nipple.
His face looked even worse today, which I didn't think would be possible.
He was due for more pain meds, and the image of him being flung around flashed back into my brain.
I was helpless to resist as I ran my fingers through his dark hair.
It was soft and shiny, and when I scraped my nails against his scalp, he all but purred in his sleep.
Something in my chest tightened, and it felt a lot like feelings.
Yeah, that was my cue to get out of bed.
I tried to wiggle out from between them stealthily, but there were too many limbs.
Frankie’s arm tightened around my waist. “Stop wiggling and go back to sleep,” he murmured sleepily.
He pressed his lips to the back of my neck, and I sighed happily.
Going back to sleep in his arms suddenly felt like the best thing ever.
Unfortunately, my bladder trumped my errant vagina.
“Gotta pee and get Dylan’s meds,” I whispered, and climbed over Frankie’s body. I should have known better, because as soon as I was straddling his lap, he thrust his morning wood against my ass.
“Mmm, as nice as that would be, we are about three seconds away from accidentally getting kinky with watersports,” I said as I pecked him on the lips.
His laughter followed me to the bathroom.
I peed, brushed my teeth and finger combed my hair before tying it back into a bun on the top of my head.
I looked like a bedraggled mess, but this was me.
I wasn’t going to pretend that I woke up looking like birds and mice gave me a makeover in the middle of the night.
I grabbed Dylan’s meds and a glass of water.
From experience, I knew he’d have the headache from hell right about now.
When I walked back into the room, both Frankie and Dylan were awake, having a quiet, intense conversation.
I cleared my throat. “If you guys are about to make out, can I watch?”
Dylan laughed, looking sexy and sleepy. He put both hands up and made gimme gimme hands. “Come here, Baby Girl. I like Frankie, but you are prettier.”
I couldn’t help the goofy smile on my face either. I walked over and held the pills out to him. “Nuh-uh. Medicine first.Then snuggles.”
He rested on his elbows and dutifully took his pills. “Are we roleplaying sexy nurses? Because I think I’m ready for my tongue bath.”
I climbed under the blankets, draping my body along his.
Dylan had a body like he was made for GQ shoots.
All lean, hard muscles that I would normally very much enjoy running my tongue over.
But I’m pretty sure sex after significant brain injuries was a no-no.
So instead of doing all the terrible, depraved things I wanted to do to his body, I just kissed him softly.
Tender kisses are dangerous. A tender kiss was like splitting your chest open and laying yourself bare. A fervent kiss is full of passion and pleasure, but a tender kiss shoots directly for the heart. You didn’t tenderly kiss strangers.
Apparently, while I was trying to be good, Dylan’s body had other ideas. His hands grabbed my ass and he ground his morning erection into my core, making me moan a little. I couldn’t help but push back against him.
“Dylan…” I started, but got lost in his sipping kiss a moment.
I pulled back a little. “Dylan, you just got your head stomped on. We are not fucking,” I chastized.
Hardest words I’ve ever had to say. I looked over at Frankie who was watching me with hooded eyes full of heat.
I don’t know why I felt relieved at that moment, I guess I was waiting for jealousy to rear its head.
Dylan didn’t seem overly perturbed. “Heads fine,” he grumbled, though I saw him wince when he moved too fast. Seeing him in pain seemed to snap me from my lust-haze.
I pushed his shoulders back onto the bed. “There’s time, Dylan. Neither of us are going anywhere. I can wait ‘til you can bring your A-game without blowing a blood vessel.” I kissed him softly, then rolled off him and back into the center of the bed. I turned my head, and Frankie kissed my cheek.
A girl could get damn used to this.
I cuddled my body back into Frankie’s and then dragged Dylan closer until I was wrapped in muscle. Frankie nuzzled my cheek. “Wanna order pancakes from room service and eat them in bed?”
Yeah, I could get really used to this.
The Uber dropped me off at the arena, and I pulled my gear out after me.
I left Frankie at the hotel with Dylan. Mostly because Dylan had looked like a kicked puppy when I got ready to ride.
Not being able to ride is hell. I knew it.
And Dylan was going to be out for at least a month and that was a long time when you lived and breathed this sport.
I didn’t know if he’d stay here in Fort Worth or if he’d go home for the month, wherever that was.
A part of me hoped he’d travel around with me, but that might be too much to ask for a new relationship, especially when he had to watch me get ready to go do the thing he so badly wanted to do every week.
I wonder if I could woo him with consolation blow jobs?
Hell, maybe I should get the consolation blow job, because after a day of hanging with a half naked Frankie and Dylan, I felt an itch under my skin that I needed to scratch.
Beau had called earlier to see if I needed a ride to the arena, but I’d turned him down.
I hadn’t been quite ready to leave the love nest filled with breakfast food and hot bodies quite that early.
I’d laid between the guys for most of the day, talking shit, watching daytime movies and eating pizza.
Probably not a great combination to ride on, but it had been a really good day.
When I left, Frankie was taking Dylan on a man date to the movies and then the bar to keep him distracted for the afternoon.
God, I loved that man. I’d worried that adding sex to our friendship would cause drama, but it seemed so right that I can’t believe we hadn’t done it sooner.
The niggling thought that eventually I’d have to choose between them all prodded at the back of my brain, but I ignored it. That was a later problem to stress about at two a.m. Tonight’s only problem was a bull named Spitfire and holding my nerve for eight seconds.
I walked into the locker room, and it was like every other sporting locker room.
People joked or prayed, most were stretching or caring for their ropes.
I could hear Junior’s obnoxious laugh but I ignored it and him.
I didn’t have the time or the energy to emotionally spar with that dickhole tonight.
As I stuffed my gear under a chair, I felt more than saw Branch come up beside me. He brushed his fingers subtly down my arm.
“How’s Dylan?” he murmured softly. I can only imagine what Junior, or some of these other guys, would say if they knew that Dylan Montaigne was shacked up in my hotel room with my Brazilian lover. It was practically the beginning of a porno.
I looked up at Branch through my lashes as I unloaded my gear. “Good. Taking his meds regularly, but he looked like his favorite truck had died and his dog had run away when I left. Frankie’s taking him to watch some action movie later to keep his mind off it.”
Branch gave me a crooked grin and nod. “Thanks for taking care of him. Normally, if he’s injured, he stays with me and Beau.”
I shrugged. “It's no hardship, Branch. I like Dylan.”
Branch gave me an intense look, one I knew well. One that said, “We can’t talk about this now, but you are going to give me answers soon.”
“Don’t get too close if you like your dick, Watson,” Junior called, and I winced.
Ah shit. So far Junior and Branch hadn’t been in the same room when I’d been present.
Branch whirled around and Junior was too stupid to read the look on his face. When Branch smiled, I knew it was a crocodile grin. Someone was about to die.
“Why’s that?” He sounded positively genial.
Junior sauntered over, probably so he was close enough to rub his next comment in my face. “Rumor has it that Moore here,” he nodded in my direction, “has fucked every guy in the competition. Plus a few of the officials. You’ll probably get gonorrhea and your dick will fall off.”
“The only person I’ve fucked in this competition is your Mom, Junior. Apparently, she hasn’t had an orgasm since 1979. You must have inherited your microdick from your dad.”
Someone scoffed behind me, but it wasn’t enough to diffuse the situation. Branch’s jaw still clenched rhythmically.
When Junior grabbed his dick, I knew what he was about to say would seal his fate. “The only thing getting fucked right now is you, you filthy whore. I’m gonna fuck your face until you choke on my cock.”
Branch’s fist whipped out and nailed Junior in the jaw. Junior went down like a ton of shit, and the silence around the room was audible. Branch leaned down and got in the other man’s face. “T.M. is mine. Speak to her again, and I’ll make sure you can’t eat for a month, you stupid piece of shit.”
Junior was never too clever though, in case that hadn’t been abundantly clear before now. “You’re going to be off this team so fast your head will spin, Watson. I’m gonna talk to my father. Pack your bags now.”
Fuck. I crossed my arms over my chest. “Because you slipped and fell? You sure do have shitty balance for a bull rider, Junior.”
Junior’s face was beginning to swell when he slid his wild eyes to me. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
I gave him my best wide-eyed innocent look. “You just tripped and then hit your face on the floor. Looks painful too, you might want to ice it. At least, that's what I saw.”
Davi didn’t look up from where he was cleaning his rope. “That’s what I saw too,” he murmured, and then the other Brazilian riders chimed in.
Then a couple of the other riders echoed Davi’s words. Because, while the riders were unsure about me, they loved Branch.
Junior’s face turned a mottled red and he pointed a finger at my chest. “You are dead, bitch,” he growled, and stomped out of the room like a child throwing a tantrum. I watched him go with a combination of satisfaction and trepidation.
Junior was an entitled brat, but that didn’t come out of nowhere. He really could get Branch thrown off the tournament for fighting if he wanted to, as long as he had proof. The thought of Branch losing his dream over me made my gut clench painfully.
“You shouldn’t have done that.”
Branch scoffed. “I’ll always defend you, Nugget. Always have. Nothing is about to change that now. No one speaks to you like that, especially not some rich, spoiled, no talent asshole. No one.”
I think I might have swooned. Instead of thanking him, like a normal person, I stabbed my finger at his chest. “You used to bully me all the time, asshole. Remember when you compared my boobs to chicken nuggets?”
“Yeah, but I love chicken nuggets,” he grinned, and I was dazzled by the radiance of his smile.
My heart was in danger now.