Chapter 33 Harlan
THIRTY-THREE
HARLAN
APRIL
The day after our big win, we had to hit the road first thing in the morning. Emma was antsy standing at the airport. Owen, Cap, and I walked in together, finding Emma checking her watch and looking antsy.
The three of us arrived at the table with the take-out bags, and I made a show of checking to make sure mine was right. “Which one is mine?”
Emma gave me a falsely placid smile. “The one that says ‘prison slop’ on it.”
“She’s so funny,” I said in a high, nasally voice.
Emma huffed before she spoke. “Hurry up, Royce. My son and I are going down to Cincinnati for a Reds game.”
“Aw, how fun!” Cap said.
“Oh, nice. Didn’t know you were a baseball fan,” Owen said.
I snapped my fingers. “Ah, shit, you know what? I forgot something in my car. I’ll be right back.”
I turned back toward the entrance, pulled out my phone, and stayed out of sight just inside the security checkpoint.
HARLAN
Do you have an extra take-out container?
EMMA
Yeah, why?
HARLAN
It’s about time I punished your smart mouth.
Go into the bathroom and take it with you.
EMMA
What?
HARLAN
Do it now.
EMMA
I need to man the table
HARLAN
Be good for Daddy and figure it out.
Tell me when you’re in there.
A blonde bob rounded the corner before disappearing into the bathroom.
EMMA
Ok. Here.
HARLAN
Go into a stall and unbutton your pants.
We don’t have much time so go fast.
EMMA
Done.
HARLAN
I’m going to tell you what to do and I’ll tell you when to stop
EMMA
Harlan I’m at work
HARLAN
I don’t want to hear any more lip from you
I know you’re at work, and I know you’re a little slut who will do anything for Daddy
Slip one hand under your shirt and pull on your nipple. Hard, princess. Like I’d do it. Don’t go easy on yourself
Put your other hand inside whatever slutty little panties you’ve got on
I bet you still feel me in there. My cum’s still spilling out of you from last night
Are you sore, princess? I really want to kiss it better. Then I could taste both of us again
It must be making you so wet, remembering my thick cock buried deep inside you
Use your fingers and fuck yourself however you like. Hard. Fast. Get those panties nice and wet for me.
Are you doing what I ask, princess, or are you still being a little brat?
Don’t answer that. I know you’re being good for me
Record a voice memo for me. I want to hear what you sound like. Your wet pussy. The moans you can’t swallow down.
It’s hard to stay quiet, isn’t it? When it feels so damn good? Do you think everyone here knows what a filthy girl you are for me?
Are you close?
EMMA
so close
HARLAN
Take your hand out of your panties
Finish fucking yourself from the outside.
Push those panties up into your pussy. Get them as wet as you can, full of your cum and mine.
Then take them off.
Clean those filthy fingers off with the panties too. I don’t want to miss a single drop.
Put my meal in that take-out container and bring it out to me.
And send me that voice memo. I need some pump up music for my next game.
EMMA
(voice memo attachment)
HARLAN
Such a good fucking girl
Emma emerged from the bathroom about a minute later, the take-out container held low at her side. She caught my eye and gave me the middle finger. I couldn’t wipe the grin off my face.
“Royce, you forgot your to-go bag!”
Emma’s footsteps sounded behind me. “Oh, thanks. See you later, then.”
“See ya. Go fuck yourself!” she added with a broad smile.
While I was waiting to take my seat, I texted Emma again. It was a risk to text her with all the guys around, but it was kind of a rush. They were all absorbed in their phones anyway.
HARLAN
Hey.
I’m still in love with you.
EMMA
You’re also still horny, panty sniffer
Try again when you’re not fighting a stiffie
“Hey, Royce,” Cap said carefully. “Do you have something to tell us?”
I froze with the take-out container in my hand and did what anyone does when guilty and caught: I shoved it behind my back.
“What’s in the box?” Dottie asked, sounding amused.
“Nothing. Food.” I cringed as Garner plucked it from my fingers. “Hey, give that back!”
Garner threw it behind him, where Dottie caught it.
“Pretty light for food,” Dottie said, weighing it between his hands.
“Wait, Cap, what are you talking about?”
He grimaced and handed me his phone.
There, on the screen, was a picture of Emma and me, during the point-five seconds where we held hands after we fucked in my car. We’ve both got that flushed, post-orgasmic glow and ooey gooey love eyes, leaving very little room to debate what we’d been doing.
Thoughts flooded my head and I felt dizzy. Who was watching us? Did they see us having sex? Was Greer after me again?
Then, things got worse. With the click and slide of waxed cardboard, Dottie opened my take-out container.
And jumped, launching the container and underwear in question across the aisle into Leroy’s lap. He held up the panties with one finger. “Nice. I’ve done that before too.” He gave them a more discerning look. “But damn, your butt must be small.”
“Oh my god!” I snatched the underwear from him and grabbed the take-out container. I could have explained that they weren’t my panties, but that was insult to injury at this point. I had bigger problems than Leroy thinking I wore women’s underwear. “How many people got that text?”
Cap winced. “It says twenty. Some of the guys, and Violet’s on here too. I assume it’s us and spouses.”
“Royce, we’re preparing for takeoff,” our flight attendant said gently behind me. “Please have a seat.”
I sat down, buckled, and turned back to Cap, whispering over the flight attendant’s safety speech. “Who sent it?”
Cap shrugged. “It’s a random number.”
“Did Coach get it?” I hissed.
He scrolled through the contacts at the top of the text. “No.”
Well, there was something to be thankful for. It bought me a little time to sort all this out. Ironically, Chef’s voice came to me first.
Clear your head.
What needs to happen next?
Unfortunately, the solution my brain came up with was perhaps the most impulsive. I unbuckled my seatbelt and jumped to my feet. “Everyone. I have an announcement.”
“Royce,” Cap tried, but he couldn’t stop me. I had that “ask for forgiveness, not for permission” phrase in my mind, and I didn’t want any lies. Someone wanted me exposed, and well, maybe it was time.
I walked to the front of the plane, steadying myself by holding onto a little peg on the wall.
“Some of you may have received a photo of Chef Emma and me.”
“Oh, god,” Coach grumbled in the front row. He ran his hand over the side of his face, just like I’d seen him do thousands of other times.
“Yeah, what’s up with that?” Dylan called out. “Doesn’t Chef hate you?”
“Um. No. But also, yes, kinda.” I took a deep breath, feeling lightheaded as I gathered the words. “Emma and I have been seeing each other, and it’s going really well.”
“You lied to me!” Owen shrieked
“Sorry,” I started.
“No, I’ve been saying this for months and you lied to me,” he went on. He was half-joking, but there was hurt in his eyes. “Were you already seeing each other during that interview?”
“No. I mean, sorta. Not really then. It’s just kinda been a slow progression. And I promised her we’d stay secret until she was ready, but . . . now this happened.”
Owen unbuckled his seatbelt and stood, walking my way with his arms out. I accepted his hug. “Sorry somebody ratted on you guys.” He lowered his voice. “Are you happy?”
I couldn’t hold back my smile. “Yeah. Really happy. I think . . . I’m in love with her.”
Owen pinched my cheek. “Look at you, buddy. Happy for you.”
Sorrento and Leroy snickered from their row.
“What’s funny?” I demanded.
“She’s gonna kill you for this!” Sorrento cackled. “You’re gonna get your floor tiles taken away.”
I chuckled. “Yeah, probably.” I glanced around at my teammates, shocked at how non-plussed they were. “That’s it? No cougar jokes?”
Owen wrinkled his nose. “Do you want us to make cougar jokes? Because I find that term sexist and ageist.”
“Tell ‘em, Owen,” Cap added.
Dottie shrugged. “I like Chef. If she’s happy, I’m happy.”
Some grunts agreed with his statement.
“Thanks, everyone. I would appreciate if you all could let me tell her what happened before it gets around to her—”
“Oops.” Leroy winced. “Pretty sure Mara’s already planning a parade.”
“Are you done?” Coach sighed.
Cap’s voice boomed from the back of the plane, growing louder as he rushed to where I stood. “No one is allowed to fire Chef, either. Royce’s feelings for her are not her fault.”
“I mean, she likes me too,” I muttered.
“Bro,” Cap said, widening his eyes at me. “I’m trying to help you out here.”
Coach put his hands out. “Will both of you sit down? Olson, go sit in Royce’s seat. We need to sort this out.”