Banksy, as Iâm learning to refer to him as when around the players or their wives, invited me to Top Shelf for the postgame celebration. I fit right in with my Lakes jersey. I wanted to wear something fun for my birthday, so I dressed it up with a miniskirt and my favorite knee-high boots. The ones Cam rescued from the condo.
While waiting for my drink, I sit facing the room with my elbows propped up on the bar top behind me. The energy in the room is chaotic and fun, everyone is smiling and having a good time. Itâs nice to be partying with no dress code, other than the team colors. Nobody is gossiping or talking about stock prices or leveraged buyouts.
Cam is a hit. I watch him interact with fans across the room. The women know him well, and it makes my stomach twist even though it shouldnât. And the touching! Every time a woman walks by, sheâs touching his shoulder, his arm, his leg, his ass. He smiles his megawatt smile at each of them, and it grates on my nerves.
âDonât worry about them,â Micky says, taking the seat beside me.
I furrow my brow and spin around, waiting on my cocktail. âIâm not. Thereâs nothing between us. It was just a stunt after the hat trick. Iâm fine. I told you I didnât want anything to happen between us anyway, remember?â
âMe thinks the friend doth protest too much . . .â she says, pushing off the bar and heading out to find Rhys.
The bartender finishes making my second martini and slides it over to me. I hand over my card, but the man shakes his head and points to a guy at the end of the bar. âHe took care of it.â I smile and lift my drink to him. He lifts two fingers off the bar and grins. Heâs attractive, and Iâm a buzzed birthday girl.
He leaves his chair and strides toward the one Micky was sitting in a moment ago. I glance up at Cam, his eyes are on the man walking toward me. His gaze meets mine, and he shakes his head. I roll my eyes. Whatâs his problem? A strange woman puts her arms around Camden, and he shakes her off. He told me I should meet new people, so thatâs what Iâm doing.
âHi,â the deep voice says beside me.
âHi, Iâm Jordan.â
âBrett.â
âThank you for the drink,â I say, raising the stemmed martini glass. I can feel Camâs glower from here. It makes my skin hot. Out the corner of my eye I see him advancing toward me.
âYouâre welcome. So what do you do for a living?â
Why is that always the first thing people ask?
âIâm a contract manager.â Iâm not used to saying unemployed yet.
Camdenâs cologne wafts from behind me. Heâs practically breathing down my neck.
âWhere at?â
A woman squeals behind me on my left. âBanks. Long time. Wanna buy me a drink?â
âMaybe some other time,â he grumbles. Itâs unpleasant to think of him with other women, but he said some other time, rather than no. Itâs another reminder that heâs a forever playboy. The last thing I need is to get involved with someone like him in the spotlight who canât handle temptation.
I bring my focus back to the guy in front of me.
âI was at H&H Holdings, but Iâm looking for something new.â
He nods. âIâve heard some funny things are going on over there lately. Iâm over at Wrenbury.â Itâs another equity firm in the area. Not nearly as big as H&H, but they have a reputation for having strong ethics.
Camden puts his arm around me and holds his hand out to the guy. âCamden Teller.â
The man Iâm talking to stares at him for a moment and reluctantly takes his hand. âBrett Anderson.â
I shrug off his arm, and Brett looks at me with his head turned slightly away, like heâs unsure of whatâs going on. His guess is as good as mine. âCamden is a friend,â I say, for the hundredth time tonight.
âCan I talk to you for a minute?â Cam says, taking my hand and pulling me off my barstool.
What the fuck?
âDonât worry, Iâll return her to you shortly,â he growls at Brett, whoâs probably thinking Iâm more trouble than Iâm worth.
Camden leads me to where the rest of the team sits, he has them move out, so we can slide to the center of the large U-shaped booth.
âWhat the hell is wrong with you?â I snap, under my breath. âYou said you wanted me to meet people!â
His voice drops, and he speaks against my neck. âI was talking about the WAGs. I didnât teach you how to give a blowjob so you could go practice on somebody else.â
âActually, thatâs exactly what you were doing, whether you realized it or not.â
âYou know that wasnât my intention.â
âI donât mind sharing,â I sneer.
âOh, you want to be shared, now?â
I shrug. âHe might be into it, should I ask him?â
I look down to see him unzip his dress pants. âHe might, but Iâm not. Pull up your skirt.â My mouth drops open. If anyone heard him, Iâll be mortified, but thankfully, everyone around us seems preoccupied by the game highlights on the big screen. His hand covers mine and he brings it to his lap, under the table. His dick is out, and heâs hard. Holy shit. My fingers explore his ladder, enjoying the way his piercings feel.
âNo way.â
âDo it now, Jordan, or I make a scene and fuck you on top of this table for everyone to see. I already have a reputation, no one will be surprised by it. You, on the other hand . . . Well, your secrets wonât be so secret anymore, will they?â
âWhat secrets?â
He hauls me into his lap and leans close to my ear. âThat you love being a slut for me. That Iâm the only one who gets to see how wet you get misbehaving. Maybe everyone else wants to see. You like that idea, donât you?â
I grit my teeth. âI might have been a slut for that other guy too,â I mumble. He twitches under me. âCam, we canât.â
âYes you can. Iâll be discreet if youâre nice about it. You think theyâre gonna find out?â He gestures to his teammates.
âYes, theyâre going to find out if youâre fucking me,â I say through clamped teeth. âI think thatâll be obvious.â He canât be serious.
âPush your panties to the side, Jordan. I know youâre fucking wet.â
Iâm not wet, Iâm drenched. âForget it.â
âSafeword is ordering another drink.â
Do I dare call his bluff?
The ESPN highlights are rolling on the giant televisions over the bar. The guys watch as theyâre about to show Camâs hat trick replays. They show the first goal, everyone cheers, and he shoves up my skirt, pulls my thong to the side, and spears himself inside me. My jaw drops and I gasp.
Lonan looks over at me. âI know, I still canât believe his fucking luck with that shot. Unreal.â
I blink back at him, my face burning. âSo crazy,â I answer. Lonanâs oblivious of the true reason for my gasp. He returns his attention to Birdie at his side.
Cam barks out a laugh. âOh my god, that was perfect,â he mutters in my ear, amused by how well that worked for him.
Birdie leans forward to look around Lonan at me. âHey, weâre getting nachos, what do you guys want?â
His knee bounces, thrusting himself deeper, and my legs fall to either side. âCome on, Sunshine. Tell them what youâre hungry for.â
âYes,â I answer.
Birdie cocks her head and furrows her brow at me. âYou want nachâ ââ
âUh-huh.â Iâll say whatever to get the attention off me. âGet two orders.â
âTwo for you? Or two for the both ofâ ââ
âOne for you, one for me!â
Cam shakes with silent laughter behind me. He squeezes the back of my thighs, and his husky breaths warm my neck. âDeep breaths, lean back.â He smells like Doublemint gum and cologne. The signature scent of fuckboys everywhere.
Once the shock of him being inside me fades, the burn around my entrance throbs. âI think your ladder tore me in half.â
âWant me to kiss it all better?â
I jab my elbow into his ribs. âYouâre a dick, you know that?â
âEverybody knows that.â
âHow many times have you done this to women at this table?â I immediately regret asking, I donât want to know what number in line I am for his under-the-table pussy play.
âYouâre the first . . . How come you didnât tell me it was your birthday earlier?â
How did he even know? Did he go through my wallet?
âBecause itâs none of your business. Itâs just a birthday. After twenty-one, birthdays donât matter.â
Thereâs a pause. âYour birthday matters. I got you a present.â
I roll my eyes. âLet me guess, Iâm sitting on it.â
He chuckles and spreads my thighs wider. Oh fuck. âYouâll have to wait and see . . .â
I lean across the table and reach for a drink menu. Needing something to have open in front of me. He runs his hand up my spine and grips the nape of my neck, pulling me against him.
âSo pretty,â he says into my hair. âI can feel the pulse in your neck. Is there anywhere else I can feel it?â His hand slips under my thigh and presses hard against my clit. âFound it. Pretty easy when youâre throbbing. What a soft pussy you have.â
I take a sip of his beer, trying to act natural while he warms his cock inside me.
âSully!â Everybody yells when the giant hockey player steps closer.
âAssholes. Ladies.â He nods to everyone.
âCaptains sit together,â Jonesy shouts.
Sully rolls his eyes. âIâm not Captain Sullivan anymore,â he grumbles.
Lonan grins slowly. âOh, would you prefer Hero of the Hudson?â
âFuck off, Lonan,â he responds.
He whispers in my ear, âRemember your safeword.â
His fingers circle my clit. Iâm so wet itâs probably audible, but luckily, the bar is loud and most of its patrons are well on their way to drunk.
Lonan and Birdie scoot out, letting Sully slide up next to us. Fantastic.
Cam drags his hand from me, wipes it across my thigh, then shakes Sullyâs hand with it. Is he deranged!? I slap his leg, and he chuckles while chatting with the former captain. His hand slides back under the table, and he goes back to rubbing circles around the tight nub, making my entire body tense up. I could stop this, I should stop this. All I need to do is order a drink, but a wicked part of me doesnât want to. I want him to keep it up. This is so fucked.
He adjusts me on his length, and his piercings rub against my G-spot while he chats up his friend.
âOh . . . Sully, this is Jordan. Jordan, meet Sully. He was the former captain of the team.â I know who Lee Sullivan is, thank you. We make introductions and are interrupted when a server comes to the table. While Sully orders a beer and a water from the server, Cam gets next to my ear. âTalk to Sully about his retirement.â
âCan I get anyone else anything?â the server asks. She looks at the half-empty beer in my hand. âWould you like another?â
He does that thing where he adjusts his knee, bouncing me once on his lap. âYeah, honey, do you want another drink?â His voice is dripping in condescension. His fingers work me over while the other hand caresses my thigh with his thumb. The audacity.
âIâm good for now, thanks.â I can only imagine the smug look on his face.
His voice is in my ear again. âGo on, ask Sully what heâs been up to.â He pinches my clitâfuck, thatâs nice. âDonât be rude, Jordan. Talk to him.â
âHowâs retirement, Sully? What have you been up to?â
âGood girl.â I hear in my other ear. Holy hell.
âNot bad, trying to keep busy, Iâm in the process of building a house, so thereâs that.â
How do I keep the conversation going while heâs doing this to me? Heâll pay for this later. âWhere are you building?â
âI found a lake lot west of the cities that I recently made an offer on. Itâs a gorgeous property. Lots of evergreen trees for privacy.â
âI like trees.â Did I just say that? âI mean, theyâre good for what you said, privacy . . . and good for the earth too.â Seriously, stop talking. âWhat architect are you using?â
Cam murmurs little praises into my neck, and itâs nearly impossible to concentrate.
âIâm actually designing it myself, but Mead & Brandt will manage the build. They work in sustainable architecture.â
âWow, thatâs impressive. You must stay busy.â
âItâs not too bad. Still got to play a lotta golf last summer, and I flew to New York to visit some friends.â
âHow was that?â
Cam flexes inside me, and I swallow.
Sully continues, âTraveling solo feels strange, especially after being with the team for so long. Might have to start taking Barrett with me once heâs done. I need a travel buddy.â
I fake an amused laugh. âHa! Yeah. Well, Iâm sure thereâs a line of women that would want to.â Thatâs worse than the tree thing.
His breath is on my neck. âYouâre doing so well, keep going.â He adds pressure and rubs a little faster. I clear my throat. âYou keep pulsing on me like that, Iâm gonna come early.â
âYeah, not so much luck with women,â Sully answers.
I dig my nails into his thighs as hard as I can.
Camâs voice is in my ear again. âYou think you can hurt me? Jokeâs on you, sweetheart. Iâm into that shit. Come on, break the skin. Make me bleed.â
âHow . . . where, uh, wh-where would you like to travel?â
Sully looks at me with a grimace. âAre you okay?â
Cam feigns concern. âYeah, Jordan, are you okay?â He slaps my clit.
âFine!â I say way too loud. Shit. âIâm fine. Lost my train of thought for a second,â I say between nervous laughter. âProbably had too many of these.â I lift the glass. Noticing my hand trembling, I set it down. It feels like a bomb is about to go off inside me.
âI guess Iâd like to spend some time in Greece someday.â
My cheeks burn, and I do everything I can to calm my voice. âItâs beautiful there. My family has a place in Santorini, I highly recommend it. May is gorgeous.â
âIâll keep that in mind. Do you do a lot of traveling?â
Cam leans forward. âThatâs enough, cut him off.â
Oh, now Iâm talking too much? God, Camden! Make up your mind.
âNot anymore.â
âJordan . . .â Cam urges.
I squirm in his lap, and look at the TVs, thanking higher powers when the ref makes a bad call. âThat ref was an idiot.â I point up.
The rest of the table joins in, taking over the penalty conversation when his hot breath is at my neck again. âReady to come?â
âI donât want to do it here, what if it goesâ ââ
He sits up, adjusting, somehow pushing even deeper while he works my clit with his hand. âAlmost there, arenât you? Does this turn you on? Knowing youâre shoulder to shoulder with a table full of hockey players and about to come all over their captainâs cock? They might find out. Youâre getting wetter just thinking about it. Youâve drenched me, Jordan.â
âYes.â
âYou wanted to try something new. So, how is it?â
âIâm not . . .â What am I trying to say? â. . . pleased.â Words are hard.
âDonât lie to me, angel.â He slaps my clit harder than before, and the pressure is too much for me to hold back.
Without trying, my hips rock on him, and he pulls me back so my head rests on his shoulder. âThere you go, now was that so difficult?â
I turn into his neck while I come, pretending to whisper back, but itâs a cover for my face and to hide as I pant against his skin. My knuckles are white as I grip his thighs and slowly breathe in and out through my nose.
âThatâs my special girl . . . Your pussy is so sweet milking me like that.â One quiet grunt later, his hot cum fills me up. My eyes widen. Oh my god . . . itâs a lot. Shit, what do I do?
âYou came,â I mumble, stating the obvious. How am I going to handle this?
âI did. Look up, someone is trying to get your attention.â
When my gaze lifts, I see a waving hand across the room. Itâs Brett, from earlier, waving me over. No, no no no.
âGo on. Why donât you go flirt with that guy across the bar again? I want to watch you talk to him while my cum leaks down your leg.â
âIâm absolutely not doing that,â I say through gritted teeth.
âYes you are.â His voice raises so the rest of the table hears. âDonât you know that guy, why donât you go say hi?â
âI donât know him.â
âYes you do.â He looks at his teammates. âYou guys mind sliding out so she can go say hi?â
The left of us clears out, and he lifts me off him, snapping my underwear back in place, and I flatten my skirt under me, trying not to make a scene. Thankfully, by the time I make it to the other side of the U-shaped booth, everythingâs back to normal. Minus the cum Iâm desperately trying to hold inside me. I stand and look back at Cam, whoâs wearing a big-ass grin. I mouth, I hate you.
Sully shakes his head. Shit, he might be onto us. I hope I never have to face him again.
I feel Camdenâs gaze on me as I make my way toward the man who bought me a drink earlier. Jesus, my brain is so scrambled I can barely remember his name. Brett. His name is Brett. The poor guy smiles as he meets me halfway.
âHey, I wasnât sure if you were coming.â
Oh, I came.
âYeah, sorry, had to catch up with a friend.â
âThatâs cool, are you close with the team?â
Shit, his cum is leaking. I cross my thighs and lean against a barstool, trying to look natural. From across the room, Camâs eyes are locked on me while he takes a swig of beer. That cocky son of a bitch.
âYeah, sort of a family friend.â Itâs beginning to run down my leg. âIâm really sorry, Iâm not feeling well and need to head home. But it was really nice to meet you.â
âIt was nice to meet you too. Can I get your number?â Iâm about to decline, but I look at Camden, and his smug smile sets me off. See how he likes playing his own games. âSure.â The guy pulls out his phone, and I make a show of taking it from him, typing it in, then hand it back. âHave a good night, Brett.â
âYou too, Jordan.â He smiles.
Iâm not interested in going out with him, and I feel like a bitch for giving Brett false hope, but when I see the way Camâs jaw is locked up, itâs worth every ounce of guilt.
I wave goodbye to Brett and head toward the exit, opening up a rideshare app.
The brisk air hits me with a blast, and I shiver. I swear if it were any colder, thereâd be a cumsicle frozen to my inner thigh. The sunny sixties temps from this morning have settled into the low forties. Thankfully, my car will be here in two minutes. Why didnât I stop in the bathroom first?
The two minutes is all I need to overthink everything. Was it wrong to let him do that? I liked itâa lot. Iâve been wanting new experiences, wanting to let loose, and thatâs exactly what I did tonight, and I loved it. I didnât know it would feel so exhilarating to throw caution to the wind and be impulsive. Be risky. But did I allow him to mark me so other guys wouldnât have the chance?
Iâm sure some other woman is already sitting in his lap. Heâll take her home and be discreet about it, meanwhile Iâm waiting for a ride with cum running down my leg. Shame sneaks into my thoughts, and I push it back. I liked what happened, but without Cam next to me on the sidewalk, it makes me feel . . . used.
The car arrives, and I step to the curb, but another hand darts out to open the door. Itâs Cam. A wave of relief crashes over me.
âWhat are you doing here?â I ask.
âI had to close our tab first. The way you darted out of there had me nervous. You okay?â I nod and sit down. He shuts the door and walks to the other side, climbing in.
âIt said one passenger,â the driver states.
âShe meant two,â he answers, shutting his door.
The driver gives me a cautionary look in the rearview mirror, and I nod my agreement. Heâll get a good tip for that. We pull away from the curb, and the car is shrouded in darkness. Orange light filters in and out as we pass streetlamps.
âYouâre a dick,â I mutter under my breath.
âYou can call me all the names you want, talk to whoever you want, but at the end of the night, we leave together. I leave with you. You leave with me.â
He squeezes my hand, then produces a wad of napkins from his jacket pocket and turns toward me, spreading my legs. His eyes stay on mine as he sweeps between my legs. His touch is tender and affectionate. He stuffs the napkins back into his pocket and threads his fingers in mine. It feels like crossing a line. I clamp my legs together and turn away from him, gently shaking off his hand. This isnât anything more than friends with benefits. I canât let him do nice things like that; it confuses me.
After a few minutes, his voice cuts through the silence. âWhy did you give him your number?â
I look over at him and smile. âIn case we ever want to add a third.â
âHm,â he hums, but something about it tells me weâre not done with this conversation.
After a minute, I glance back at him over my shoulder, and heâs staring out his window with a tense jaw. Shit.
As soon as we get home, he tips the driver, and we make our way inside. I kick off one shoe and hobble around, trying to pull off the other. Iâm going straight into the shower. Heâs behind me, still not saying a word. Something is up with him.
âIn caseâweâever wanted to add a third.â I internally cringe.
âIs there a problem?â I fake a smirk. âIf youâre not up for it, Iâll bet one of his friends is. No big deal.â I wave him off and head toward the stairs. Itâs harsh, but Iâm saying it for myself. I need to remind myself this isnât more.
He catches up to me and wraps his arms around my stomach. âYou want to know what itâs like getting fucked by two men at the same time?â
I shrug with a smile, egging him on and secretly hoping he doesnât call my bluff.
âOkay.â He nips at my neck. âLet me show you what youâve been missing out on.â
My heart stops. âWhat? No, thatâs okay.â
âIf you want to know, then letâs do it.â
I shake my head. Itâs not a fantasy I need to fulfill, by any means, but itâs fun to read about in books. Besides, I donât think Iâm in a mental space that would allow me to handle more than one man, I only trust Cam.
âI was joking. Just trying to get a rise out of you.â
âYou got a rise out of me, baby.â
I scoff. âBaby?â
He nods. âTonight, youâre gonna sleep like a baby.â
âThat phrase is stupid. Babies donât sleep, they cry all night.â
âI know. Get your toy, Jordan. The one he hated most.â