Chapter 6
Chapter Six
Taylor
I’m sitting in a strange bed. Looking around with pure panic, I try to gather any information from what I see, to figure out where I am, but nothing looks familiar.
Shit.
The last thing I remember was–oh no. I lift the blankets I’m under to see I’m fully dressed.
Okay, that’s good. I at least have my clothes on.
Racking my brain, I try to piece together last night.
The orgy happened, and I am currently feeling the pain from that today.
I stretch and realize every muscle is sore, but in that good kind of way.
Flicking the blanket off my body, I shift my weight and climb off the bed, my feet hitting soft carpet. The bedroom is clean, nothing on the floor, and is most definitely a guy’s room. There’s no personal photos, or cutesy decorations that a woman would have.
What happened after the orgy?
When I reach for the doorknob, the memory of Dean walking in last night hits me like a fucking rock.
I release the door and step back. He kicked the last few out, yelled at me some, and then...
He cleaned me up. He carefully washed everything away, one gentle second after the other.
Held me up in the shower as the water just ran over my skin.
He was kind, gentle, and when he looked at me, it wasn’t with anger.
Pulling the door open, I walk out of this strange room to walk into a strange hallway. Fuck. I sort of thought maybe I was in Dean’s room, or I was still home, or at least, the home I’m now forced to live in.
I can hear the sound of people talking, so I follow the voices, tiptoeing down the hallway until I find an open layout area with a living room and kitchen.
“Good morning.” I look over to see Dean sitting at the breakfast bar with a mug in his hand. “Coffee’s over there, mugs are in the cabinet above.”
The other guy, standing with his back towards me, is cooking something on the stove.
I nod to Dean, make my way over to the mugs, and pour myself a coffee.
Without even asking, I open the fridge and find some vanilla creamer in the door.
Popping the top, I dump some into my coffee, put it back, and shut the fridge.
Taking a deep breath, I put the mug to my lips, and inhale the amazing smell of it.
“How do you like your eggs?” the guy at the stove asks, and I freeze. I know that voice.
I know that fucking voice.
Don’t be him.
Please don’t fucking be my psychology teacher.
He turns to face me, and I’m staring right into the beautiful eyes of Johnny.
I splash my coffee when I step backwards, and hiss when the heat hits my bare feet.
“Shit. Sorry.” I put the mug down, and grab some paper towels off the counter, cleaning up the mess quickly. When I’m finished, I stand back up and look between the two of them. “Why am I here instead of at home?” I ask Dean.
“Couldn’t take you home. Also didn’t think you wanted to go home after having the whole team fucking you.” I widen my eyes at him, because what the fuck!
“Gotta say, didn’t expect that.” Johnny hands me a plate with toast and bacon on it. He turns to the stove, grabs the small pan, and slides two over easy eggs onto my plate.
“I didn’t, either.” Dean clears his throat.
“And how, exactly, do you two know each other?” I ask as Johnny puts the pan down.
“He’s one of the assistant coaches,” Dean replies.
I nod my head, because that makes sense as to how they’d know each other.
“But,” I pick up my coffee and move to the stool next to Dean, “why are we here, and why are you telling him about the fun I had last night with your teammates? Which, by the way, I only did to piss you off. You really shouldn’t tell a girl who she can talk to.
” I pick up a piece of toast and take a bite.
“Bro, you told her not to talk to them.”
“Correction, he told me to stay away from him and his team.”
“This is exactly what I was trying to prevent from happening. I don’t need you fucking my teammates when I’m trying to take us all the way.”
“Idiot.” Johnny shakes his head.
“That still doesn’t explain why I’m here, or why we’re eating breakfast, like this is some casual thing.”
“He’s my older, less handsome, less talented, brother.” Dean eats a piece of his bacon, and I feel like my heart stops in my chest. Brother.
Actually, I can see the resemblance.
“Here’s the deal, Kitten. I can’t have you fucking with my team. They need their dicks in their pants, and heads on their shoulders. Your sexcapade should keep them all satisfied for the week at least, but I can’t have any of them chasing after you.”
“You don’t get to make that decision for people.”
“I can, and will. But I’ll make a deal with you.” He takes a drink of his coffee while Johnny stands on the other side of the counter, watching us. “Pick one.”
“Pick one, what?” I choke a little on the bacon and clear my throat.
“One of the guys. You can pick one of the guys, date him, and then leave the rest alone.”
“I don’t need your permission to pursue any, or all of them, if I wanted to, Dean.”
“If you don’t pick one, I will, and you won’t like the one I choose for you.”
“Are you threatening me?”
“I don’t think he is.” Johnny steps into the conversation, like this is a normal topic.
“I’m not. I’m just simply allowing you to be yourself, with one of my teammates, since you can’t listen to a simple command.”
“That’s because you can’t command me to do anything, Dean. Just because everyone else jumps through hurdles for your spoiled ass, doesn’t mean I’m going to.” I down the rest of my coffee and climb off the stool. “I’ll see myself out. Thanks for breakfast, Johnny.”
I turn away from the both of them, and make my way towards the door, barefoot and all. I don’t have time to go hunt down my shoes.
My arm is pulled back by the elbow, and I’m spun around.
Dean looks pissed as he backs me towards the door, pushing me up against it.
“You don’t get a choice, Kitten. Either pick one, or I pick for you.
I can’t have the entire school thinking my sister is a fucking whore who’ll spread her legs for anyone and everyone, especially with the NFL within my grasp.
The entire world will know about you, and your nighttime activities, just because someone wants their fifteen seconds of fame by telling them all about Dean Channing’s slutty sister.
” He’s pinned me against the door, his knee between my thighs, one hand on my waist, and the other on my throat.
I study his face, the small tics between his eye movements, the way he’s put himself between me and Johnny, and the way he dropped his voice low, so only I could hear that. He is jealous.