Chapter 14
KC
Sweat stung my eyes and my chest heaved.
My biceps burned and my legs ached. The heavy effects of the Saturday night game burdened my sore body, and when it was done, we’d won, but only just. Our home crowd cheered under the bright lights.
It was the beginning of the season, and we had a lot of games to play, but it was a good start.
Ozzie came over and slapped my ass, and I patted him on the shoulder as we headed into the locker room.
Pa and Barber had come to the game. I’d seen them in the front row, Barber yelling like a mad man while Pa stared at plays with quiet calculation.
Later on, he’d give me a rundown of the weaknesses he’d seen in both our team and the rivals, the way he did after every game.
If there was one thing he was good at, it was finding vulnerabilities to exploit.
Barber was more proactive, screaming at the referees and asking them if they were blind.
Or stupid.
Or getting paid off.
I’d be mad if I didn’t love the guy. He was the helicopter parent. While technically he wasn’t my dad, he was certainly starting to act like one.
And the poor ref. He took one look at Barber and blanched, caught between irritation and fear at seeing a parent wearing a Kings of Men MC jacket.
After the game, I approached the ref and thanked him for his time while also apologizing about Barber.
“He’s passionate,” I said.
The ref snorted. “So’s every other parent. Makes my job difficult. Just . . . maybe tell him to calm down?”
“Yeah, I’ll try. No promises. He’s a big kid.”
I received an exhausted smile in response.
Usually, Pa and Barber waited around for me, but I’d texted Pa earlier to tell him I was spending the night at a “friend’s house.
” Even though I knew he wanted to slam me with a million questions, he didn’t.
I was an adult, and we’d come to a compromise.
He needed to trust me. His job—being an assassin for a secret organization—put him on nonstop high alert.
I understood his concern, but I’d also learned a lot from him about protecting myself.
He’d agreed to let me live my life without being overbearing.
Sometimes he was even able to manage it.
Once I’d showered and changed back into my suit and tie in the locker room, I exited the small stadium.
Oli and Ren were waiting for me outside, and I wasn’t surprised to see they weren’t talking.
Ren had a cigarette cradled between his lips as he inhaled, then plucked the stick away to exhale a stream of smoke that billowed in the air in front of him.
He had a cap pulled low over his eyes and wore a leather jacket.
The shirt he had on was a V-neck, though, so it did little to conceal the art across his chest and up his neck.
Oli glared at him, arms crossed as he huffed. What had they been fighting about?
“Hey!” I called.
They turned to me, and Oli lit up, the bitter expression morphing into a wide grin.
“Hey. We were waiting for you,” Oli said.
Ren snorted. “He knows, Kitten.”
“Stop calling me that.” Oli shot him a dark look over his shoulder. “Asshole.”
“That’s starting to sound like a compliment, Kitten. Are you flirting with me?” Ren hit back, and I was beginning to think he wasn’t wrong. Every time Oli insulted him, his gaze softened a little.
Oli flinched. “Hell no. I’d rather chop off my own dick than flirt with you.”
All three of us grimaced at the imagery.
Ignoring Ren, Oli sidled up to me and wrapped his fingers around my tie, thumb stroking the material gently.
His gaze snapped up to find mine and he smiled, his entire face relaxing.
It was funny how I’d forced myself not to think about him sexually until recently.
He was beautiful, with long lashes and pillowy lips.
His curls hung loosely over his forehead, haloing soulful eyes.
“Hi,” I whispered.
“Hello.” He tilted his chin, and I pressed my mouth against his, cupping his cheeks with my palms. I swiped my tongue over the seam of his lips, and he opened them, allowing me entrance.
He tasted like Cherry Coke, and my heart beat a little faster.
I couldn’t remember anyone kissing me this way, with candor that made it seem as though he’d cracked open his ribs and was showing his soul. He was all sugar.
“Where’s mine?” Ren grumbled, shifting closer to us and knocking the brim of his cap up with his knuckle.
I broke away from Oli to lean toward Ren, and he seized my chin in a tight hold.
He dragged me forward, slamming his mouth against mine in a rough kiss that had my lips aching with a mixture of pleasure and pain.
He was relentless, a force of nature that wouldn’t yield.
He didn’t ask for my kiss, he stole it. He dominated me, etching himself into my DNA, becoming part of me.
While Oli was sweet, Ren was sour, but only in the best way. He was hard muscle and an even harder attitude, and I fucking loved that, too. What was wrong with me? How could I want both of them when they had entirely opposite personalities?
Any other time, I might’ve worried about being seen kissing not one, but two men.
The thing was, if they attempted to kick me off my scholarship for my relationships, Pa would give them hell.
He had money and means, and the school knew by now not to mess with him.
They’d had a taste of him when I’d dealt with a bullying professor freshman year.
By the time Ren was done, I was panting, my entire body trembling with need that gnawed me from the inside, working its way out.
Oli watched us with blown pupils that swallowed his irises, except for a narrow brown band.
He wet his lips with a dart of his pink tongue and went in for his own kiss.
This time I wasn’t prepared. He sucked my tongue like he might never get it again, and I wasn’t sure if he was desperate or wanted to beat Ren at his own game. Possibly both.
I wasn’t about to complain.
“We should take this home,” Ren growled out, his voice ripping through the empty parking lot.
I yanked back from Oli. Ren was right. I was out and proud, but I didn’t want someone taking a picture of me.
I didn’t care what the world of football thought, but I also didn’t want to hear the lecture from Pa as he listed all the reasons why taking on two men was too much stress.
Ren and Oli weren’t like Barber, thank God.
I didn’t think I’d have to worry the way Pa did.
Barber was a three-ring circus all on his own.
“Yeah, let’s go. How did you get here?” I asked.
“Shakira. I don’t cheat on my girl,” Ren answered without missing a beat. He nudged Oli on the shoulder, and Oli sent him another glare. “Tell our sweet KC what you said about her.”
Oli huffed. His shoulders tensed, and then he released them as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. The wind ruffled his curls. “I said it was nice, okay?”
“You’re in love.” Ren’s smirk lingered, delightfully smug. “You said we nearly have the same color car.”
“We don’t have the same fucking color. Mine’s purple and color changes. This is magenta.”
“Magenta. Purple. Same thing.” By the sparkle in Ren’s eyes, I didn’t think he believed his own words, but he knew exactly how to irritate Oli, and boy, was it working.
Oli’s cheeks bloomed an angry red and a tic started in his jaw as he gritted his teeth. I was surprised I didn’t hear the grind of enamel. “They. Are. Not.”
I needed to break up this argument before Oli resorted to fists. I didn’t think he was the type, but clearly Ren was poking him in all the sensitive spots, and Oli, not realizing Ren was enjoying his reactions, was giving Ren exactly what he wanted.
“I’m tired. Let’s hit the road so I can get cock or ass or both. I don’t care whose it is.” I grinned at them as my words caught their attention.
Ren instantly took charge, leading the way toward his car.
Oli stayed closer to me, eyeing me carefully as though searching for injuries.
The game wasn’t too terrible tonight. I sent a few players reeling with some big hits and my muscles ached, but I hadn’t been hurt.
Still, Oli checked, and I appreciated his concern.
I offered him a smile as we reached Ren’s Mustang.
“Get in the back, Kitten.” Ren winked. “You’re the smallest and it’s a tight fit.”
Oli harrumphed but didn’t argue when Ren unlocked the car, opened the passenger door, and flipped the switch that knocked the seat forward. He glared at Ren as he crawled into the back, but he didn’t get far before Ren slapped his ass.
Oli kicked his foot backward, but Ren seized his ankle, then slapped his ass again, using some muscle. Oli made a sound of protest, and I swore I heard “asshole” muttered under his breath.
I rolled my eyes, fondness spreading across my chest as I watched them. “Okay, enough you two. Shit. You’re like kids.” I smiled anyway.
Once Ren had the seat back in place, he closed the door before I could slide in.
I opened my mouth to protest, but he flipped our positions and slammed me against the side of Shakira.
The roughness flirted with all my wants and desires, shooting pleasure straight to my balls.
My cock throbbed, blood filling my shaft.
His lips crashed against mine, demanding and dominant, and every instinct I’d had on the field to defend and protect dissipated, leaving behind a submission that had my muscles relaxing.
He pressed against me, giving me the pleasure of feeling every inch of his hard body.
I chased his kiss when he went to pull away, and he nipped my bottom lip.
“Slutty for it, aren’t you?” He rubbed his cheek against mine, and I nodded eagerly before my brain could catch up with what I was doing.
“Hey!” Oli pounded on the window with his fist, eyebrows furrowed in frustration.