Chapter 31
OUR PRIVATE DATE
Chase
To play pro sports, you’ve got to be good at a bunch of things. Top among them is spotting opportunities, then seizing them.
I’m staring at one right now.
In the dressing room door of Charlotte Everly’s showroom stands Trina Beaumont. She’s wearing a teal dress that clings to her curves and a come-hither smile.
The woman is stunning.
We made a private appointment with the designer Ryker’s sister had told him about before.
So here we are as Trina models sexy dress after stunning dress. Since Charlotte just left to take a call, the three of us are alone on the second floor. I’m seated on a pink cushion that is so not my style. Ryker relaxes on a dark blue chair.
“Does this work for the wedding?” Trina asks us, sliding a hand down the front of the silky material.
Yup—that’s the opportunity. It’s like a breakaway, and I’m gliding down the ice. “It’s perfect,” I say, so hungry for her, like she is for us.
She bites the corner of her lips. “I think I need a little help with the zipper though.”
There’s no one between the net and me. Except…risk.
Briefly, I weigh it. At breakfast the other day, we talked about being cautious. But here we are. Alone. Out of view. And our girl’s chest is flushed, her eyes are glinting, and she’s clearly got one thing on her mind.
Because I see the fantasy in her eyes and I want this woman to have everything she wants.
The strength of that realization wallops me almost out of nowhere.
My breath strangles me for a few seconds as I gaze at a woman I’ve known for one week. One week and I’m thinking crazy thoughts. Like if I could stop time so Monday never comes…
And these are crazy thoughts that have absolutely no place in my life or my plans.
But maybe, just maybe, I’d make a new plan for her.
And damn, that’s just too dangerous an idea. I’ve got to shake off those thoughts.
Focus on the things that are possible. Buying her all the clothes. Showering her with gifts and lingerie. Bringing her pleasure. Making her feel incredible.
My buddy and I can do that with her for three more nights.
“We better help you undo it then,” I say.
With a flirty smile, she turns around, and steps into the large dressing room. We’re up and out of our chairs in no time, following her there.
I shut the door, then move behind her. Ryker lifts her hair, running his fingers along the side of her neck, and she trembles as I undo the zipper.
Turning her on together is such a high. I get to watch her experience a double dose of pleasure, and she craves that.
She adores being touched all over by us.
She lets the sleeves fall, then she turns around and shimmies off the dress.
I groan. She’s wearing a pale pink bra and pink cotton boy shorts. She steps close. “I want to say thank you for earlier,” she says.
“You don’t have to,” I say.
“It was seriously our pleasure,” Ryker adds.
“But I want to,” she whispers, then drags one hand down his chest, the other down mine. Then those ambidextrous hands get to work on our jeans.
“I’m still so turned on from what you did outside the coffee shop,” she says as she gets down on her knees and unzips his fly, then mine, freeing our dicks. With a look of pure adoration in her eyes, she licks the head of his cock while she stares up at me.
Lust barrels through me.
Along with a question—how the hell is this my life?
Trina wraps a hand around my dick, stroking me while she sucks him and gazes at me.
If you’d have asked me a week ago if the hottest sex of my life would involve sharing a woman, I would have said no. But over the last seven days, I’ve become utterly obsessed with her and with the way we fuck.
I’ve learned new things about myself from being with her. I’ve always been a giver in bed, like a man should fucking be. But with her, I’m even more obsessed. I want to flood her with pleasure, to watch her get turned on, to arouse her everywhere so her circuits overload.
To drive her wild.
Sometimes what drives her wild is pleasing us.
The thrill in her eyes when she can take care of us together is like a drug.
The way she sparks and sizzles, taking us at the same time, is sexier than anything I’ve experienced in my entire life.
The sheer absurdity of being this aroused as a woman sucks another guy’s dick while she strokes mine boggles my mind. And yet here I am.
My body is a fucking torch. And my girl is fire.
Another lick, another deep suck, then she switches, grabbing his shaft, while she gives my dick wicked attention with her magical tongue.
I rein in a groan. My legs shake from excitement. My cock is so damn happy in her mouth. I push her chestnut strands from her gorgeous face so I can watch her suck me while she stares up at him through those red glasses.
I tug on her hair, but say nothing. We’re all quiet, just in case. An unwritten ground rule as we steal this moment.
One I’ve needed since we ran into her ex. Putting that guy in his place was such a rush. Defending her was a thrill I hadn’t been expecting. But it was a goddamn gift to let him know that no one, no one in the whole world, fucks with our Trina.
I need this release so badly, and when she takes me to the back of her throat, I nearly lose my mind. Soon, my brain is too scrambled to think and it’s a damn good thing. Because I’m starting to picture more moments like this, beyond this week and the next.
More possibilities even though I know I can’t have them. I’ve been pushing toward one purpose for the last several years, and I can’t get distracted, no matter how good everything feels with her.
With us.
With this unexpected thing we’ve created. This secret that’s just ours.
I close my eyes and let go, savoring the moment fully but quietly as I come down her throat with a shudder.
She lets go and takes care of my best friend, and I don’t feel an ounce of jealousy. I just feel joy as I watch her finish him with wild pleasure in her eyes and a hand inside her panties.
Oh, hell no.
No way am I letting her do that by herself. In a heartbeat, I’m kneeling behind her, reaching a hand around, stroking her clit and giving her all the bliss she deserves as she comes a few seconds after he does, her body trembling in my arms.
* * *
Twenty minutes later, Ryker and I buy Trina a ton of dresses—including some with pockets—as well as blouses, shoes, and lingerie, since Charlotte makes it all.
“You’re going to look stunning in all of these,” the designer says to Trina.
Trina smiles, glancing down for a moment, then meeting Charlotte’s eyes. “Thanks. I love your designs. I’ve been ogling them for a while.”
Charlotte flashes a grateful smile as she folds the silky dresses and bright blouses, slides them into bags, then turns to me. “What a lovely thing to do for your girlfriend,” she says.
A kernel of guilt worms through me, “She deserves the best,” I say, then wrap an arm around Trina, kind of hating that Ryker can’t do the same.
Next to me, he’s stony-faced though, revealing nothing.
Charlotte turns to him. “And tell your sister thanks for sending you all my way. I’m so glad she thought to do that,” she says.
“I will,” Ryker says.
Then, shopping bags in tow, we leave, walking out like we walked in. As if the three of us are just one guy with his fake girlfriend and his buddy.
That feels so wrong to me. I wish I could go back in time and redo the moment with my teammates when I said I was seeing her. I wish I could do things differently so I didn’t say that she’s my girlfriend. Because she doesn’t feel like mine.
She feels like ours.
But I can’t undo it, so I choose a different path forward. “Do you guys want to get a drink before we head home?”
Ryker shoots me a you’d better explain look.
“Just a drink. We can get a drink,” I say, then glance down the street. No one is near us, so I put myself on the line. “I want to know how it feels. Like it’s a date for all of us but we’re the only ones who know it,” I say quietly, pushing past the discomfort.
The smile on Trina’s face is pure magic.
And Ryker’s nodding instantly, clearly wanting to please her too.
* * *
We’re at a booth in The Spotted Zebra, where the server brings three glasses of champagne. When we’re alone, Trina raises her flute. “To the full VIP experience, including our very own private date now,” she says, sounding hypnotized on this night, just like I am.
We clink three glasses and it looks too damn right. Everything about this private date feels so damn right.
Enjoy it while it lasts, man, because it’s ending.
I take a long, thirsty drink of the champagne, and the three of us laugh, and drink, and talk. After a bit, Trina looks at the clock, then at us, like she’s famished.
“You hungry, sweetness?” Ryker asks.
She shakes her head, a coy look in her gaze. “Yes. But not for food. I’m ready for number six.”
We’re out of there so fast.