Banksy, as I’m 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. It’s 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 shouldn’t. And the touching! Every time a woman walks by, she’s touching his shoulder, his arm, his leg, his ass. He smiles his megawatt smile at each of them, and it grates on my nerves.
“Don’t worry about them,” Micky says, taking the seat beside me.
I furrow my brow and spin around, waiting on my cocktail. “I’m not. There’s nothing between us. It was just a stunt after the hat trick. I’m fine. I told you I didn’t want anything to happen between us anyway, remember?”
“Me thinks the friend doth protest too much . . .” 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. “He took care of it.” I smile and lift my drink to him. He lifts two fingers off the bar and grins. He’s attractive, and I’m 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. What’s his problem? A strange woman puts her arms around Camden, and he shakes her off. He told me I should meet new people, so that’s what I’m doing.
“Hi,” the deep voice says beside me.
“Hi, I’m Jordan.”
“Brett.”
“Thank you for the drink,” I say, raising the stemmed martini glass. I can feel Cam’s glower from here. It makes my skin hot. Out the corner of my eye I see him advancing toward me.
“You’re welcome. So what do you do for a living?”
Why is that always the first thing people ask?
“I’m a contract manager.” I’m not used to saying unemployed yet.
Camden’s cologne wafts from behind me. He’s practically breathing down my neck.
“Where at?”
A woman squeals behind me on my left. “Banks. Long time. Wanna buy me a drink?”
“Maybe some other time,” he grumbles. It’s unpleasant to think of him with other women, but he said some other time, rather than no. It’s another reminder that he’s a forever playboy. The last thing I need is to get involved with someone like him in the spotlight who can’t handle temptation.
I bring my focus back to the guy in front of me.
“I was at H&H Holdings, but I’m looking for something new.”
He nods. “I’ve heard some funny things are going on over there lately. I’m over at Wrenbury.” It’s 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. “Camden Teller.”
The man I’m talking to stares at him for a moment and reluctantly takes his hand. “Brett Anderson.”
I shrug off his arm, and Brett looks at me with his head turned slightly away, like he’s unsure of what’s going on. His guess is as good as mine. “Camden is a friend,” I say, for the hundredth time tonight.
“Can I talk to you for a minute?” Cam says, taking my hand and pulling me off my barstool.
What the fuck?
“Don’t worry, I’ll return her to you shortly,” he growls at Brett, who’s probably thinking I’m more trouble than I’m 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.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” I snap, under my breath. “You said you wanted me to meet people!”
His voice drops, and he speaks against my neck. “I was talking about the WAGs. I didn’t teach you how to give a blowjob so you could go practice on somebody else.”
“Actually, that’s exactly what you were doing, whether you realized it or not.”
“You know that wasn’t my intention.”
“I don’t mind sharing,” I sneer.
“Oh, you want to be shared, now?”
I shrug. “He might be into it, should I ask him?”
I look down to see him unzip his dress pants. “He might, but I’m not. Pull up your skirt.” My mouth drops open. If anyone heard him, I’ll 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 he’s hard. Holy shit. My fingers explore his ladder, enjoying the way his piercings feel.
“No way.”
“Do 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 won’t be so secret anymore, will they?”
“What secrets?”
He hauls me into his lap and leans close to my ear. “That you love being a slut for me. That I’m the only one who gets to see how wet you get misbehaving. Maybe everyone else wants to see. You like that idea, don’t you?”
I grit my teeth. “I might have been a slut for that other guy too,” I mumble. He twitches under me. “Cam, we can’t.”
“Yes you can. I’ll be discreet if you’re nice about it. You think they’re gonna find out?” He gestures to his teammates.
“Yes, they’re going to find out if you’re fucking me,” I say through clamped teeth. “I think that’ll be obvious.” He can’t be serious.
“Push your panties to the side, Jordan. I know you’re fucking wet.”
I’m not wet, I’m drenched. “Forget it.”
“Safeword is ordering another drink.”
Do I dare call his bluff?
The ESPN highlights are rolling on the giant televisions over the bar. The guys watch as they’re about to show Cam’s 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. “I know, I still can’t believe his fucking luck with that shot. Unreal.”
I blink back at him, my face burning. “So crazy,” I answer. Lonan’s oblivious of the true reason for my gasp. He returns his attention to Birdie at his side.
Cam barks out a laugh. “Oh my god, that was perfect,” he mutters in my ear, amused by how well that worked for him.
Birdie leans forward to look around Lonan at me. “Hey, we’re getting nachos, what do you guys want?”
His knee bounces, thrusting himself deeper, and my legs fall to either side. “Come on, Sunshine. Tell them what you’re hungry for.”
“Yes,” I answer.
Birdie cocks her head and furrows her brow at me. “You want nach—”
“Uh-huh.” I’ll say whatever to get the attention off me. “Get two orders.”
“Two for you? Or two for the both of—”
“One for you, one for me!”
Cam shakes with silent laughter behind me. He squeezes the back of my thighs, and his husky breaths warm my neck. “Deep breaths, lean back.” 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. “I think your ladder tore me in half.”
“Want me to kiss it all better?”
I jab my elbow into his ribs. “You’re a dick, you know that?”
“Everybody knows that.”
“How many times have you done this to women at this table?” I immediately regret asking, I don’t want to know what number in line I am for his under-the-table pussy play.
“You’re the first . . . How come you didn’t tell me it was your birthday earlier?”
How did he even know? Did he go through my wallet?
“Because it’s none of your business. It’s just a birthday. After twenty-one, birthdays don’t matter.”
There’s a pause. “Your birthday matters. I got you a present.”
I roll my eyes. “Let me guess, I’m sitting on it.”
He chuckles and spreads my thighs wider. Oh fuck. “You’ll have to wait and see . . .”
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.
“So pretty,” he says into my hair. “I can feel the pulse in your neck. Is there anywhere else I can feel it?” His hand slips under my thigh and presses hard against my clit. “Found it. Pretty easy when you’re throbbing. What a soft pussy you have.”
I take a sip of his beer, trying to act natural while he warms his cock inside me.
“Sully!” Everybody yells when the giant hockey player steps closer.
“Assholes. Ladies.” He nods to everyone.
“Captains sit together,” Jonesy shouts.
Sully rolls his eyes. “I’m not Captain Sullivan anymore,” he grumbles.
Lonan grins slowly. “Oh, would you prefer Hero of the Hudson?”
“Fuck off, Lonan,” he responds.
He whispers in my ear, “Remember your safeword.”
His fingers circle my clit. I’m so wet it’s 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 Sully’s 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 doesn’t 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.
“Oh . . . Sully, this is Jordan. Jordan, meet Sully. He was the former captain of the team.” 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. “Talk to Sully about his retirement.”
“Can I get anyone else anything?” the server asks. She looks at the half-empty beer in my hand. “Would you like another?”
He does that thing where he adjusts his knee, bouncing me once on his lap. “Yeah, honey, do you want another drink?” His voice is dripping in condescension. His fingers work me over while the other hand caresses my thigh with his thumb. The audacity.
“I’m good for now, thanks.” I can only imagine the smug look on his face.
His voice is in my ear again. “Go on, ask Sully what he’s been up to.” He pinches my clit—fuck, that’s nice. “Don’t be rude, Jordan. Talk to him.”
“How’s retirement, Sully? What have you been up to?”
“Good girl.” I hear in my other ear. Holy hell.
“Not bad, trying to keep busy, I’m in the process of building a house, so there’s that.”
How do I keep the conversation going while he’s doing this to me? He’ll pay for this later. “Where are you building?”
“I found a lake lot west of the cities that I recently made an offer on. It’s a gorgeous property. Lots of evergreen trees for privacy.”
“I like trees.” Did I just say that? “I mean, they’re good for what you said, privacy . . . and good for the earth too.” Seriously, stop talking. “What architect are you using?”
Cam murmurs little praises into my neck, and it’s nearly impossible to concentrate.
“I’m actually designing it myself, but Mead & Brandt will manage the build. They work in sustainable architecture.”
“Wow, that’s impressive. You must stay busy.”
“It’s not too bad. Still got to play a lotta golf last summer, and I flew to New York to visit some friends.”
“How was that?”
Cam flexes inside me, and I swallow.
Sully continues, “Traveling solo feels strange, especially after being with the team for so long. Might have to start taking Barrett with me once he’s done. I need a travel buddy.”
I fake an amused laugh. “Ha! Yeah. Well, I’m sure there’s a line of women that would want to.” That’s worse than the tree thing.
His breath is on my neck. “You’re doing so well, keep going.” He adds pressure and rubs a little faster. I clear my throat. “You keep pulsing on me like that, I’m gonna come early.”
“Yeah, not so much luck with women,” Sully answers.
I dig my nails into his thighs as hard as I can.
Cam’s voice is in my ear again. “You think you can hurt me? Joke’s on you, sweetheart. I’m into that shit. Come on, break the skin. Make me bleed.”
“How . . . where, uh, wh-where would you like to travel?”
Sully looks at me with a grimace. “Are you okay?”
Cam feigns concern. “Yeah, Jordan, are you okay?” He slaps my clit.
“Fine!” I say way too loud. Shit. “I’m fine. Lost my train of thought for a second,” I say between nervous laughter. “Probably had too many of these.” I lift the glass. Noticing my hand trembling, I set it down. It feels like a bomb is about to go off inside me.
“I guess I’d like to spend some time in Greece someday.”
My cheeks burn, and I do everything I can to calm my voice. “It’s beautiful there. My family has a place in Santorini, I highly recommend it. May is gorgeous.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. Do you do a lot of traveling?”
Cam leans forward. “That’s enough, cut him off.”
Oh, now I’m talking too much? God, Camden! Make up your mind.
“Not anymore.”
“Jordan . . .” Cam urges.
I squirm in his lap, and look at the TVs, thanking higher powers when the ref makes a bad call. “That ref was an idiot.” I point up.
The rest of the table joins in, taking over the penalty conversation when his hot breath is at my neck again. “Ready to come?”
“I don’t want to do it here, what if it goes—”
He sits up, adjusting, somehow pushing even deeper while he works my clit with his hand. “Almost there, aren’t you? Does this turn you on? Knowing you’re shoulder to shoulder with a table full of hockey players and about to come all over their captain’s cock? They might find out. You’re getting wetter just thinking about it. You’ve drenched me, Jordan.”
“Yes.”
“You wanted to try something new. So, how is it?”
“I’m not . . .” What am I trying to say? “. . . pleased.” Words are hard.
“Don’t lie to me, angel.” 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. “There you go, now was that so difficult?”
I turn into his neck while I come, pretending to whisper back, but it’s 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.
“That’s my special girl . . . Your pussy is so sweet milking me like that.” One quiet grunt later, his hot cum fills me up. My eyes widen. Oh my god . . . it’s a lot. Shit, what do I do?
“You came,” I mumble, stating the obvious. How am I going to handle this?
“I did. Look up, someone is trying to get your attention.”
When my gaze lifts, I see a waving hand across the room. It’s Brett, from earlier, waving me over. No, no no no.
“Go on. Why don’t 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.”
“I’m absolutely not doing that,” I say through gritted teeth.
“Yes you are.” His voice raises so the rest of the table hears. “Don’t you know that guy, why don’t you go say hi?”
“I don’t know him.”
“Yes you do.” He looks at his teammates. “You guys mind sliding out so she can go say hi?”
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, everything’s back to normal. Minus the cum I’m desperately trying to hold inside me. I stand and look back at Cam, who’s 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 Camden’s 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.
“Hey, I wasn’t sure if you were coming.”
Oh, I came.
“Yeah, sorry, had to catch up with a friend.”
“That’s cool, are you close with the team?”
Shit, his cum is leaking. I cross my thighs and lean against a barstool, trying to look natural. From across the room, Cam’s eyes are locked on me while he takes a swig of beer. That cocky son of a bitch.
“Yeah, sort of a family friend.” It’s beginning to run down my leg. “I’m really sorry, I’m not feeling well and need to head home. But it was really nice to meet you.”
“It was nice to meet you too. Can I get your number?” I’m about to decline, but I look at Camden, and his smug smile sets me off. See how he likes playing his own games. “Sure.” The guy pulls out his phone, and I make a show of taking it from him, typing it in, then hand it back. “Have a good night, Brett.”
“You too, Jordan.” He smiles.
I’m not interested in going out with him, and I feel like a bitch for giving Brett false hope, but when I see the way Cam’s jaw is locked up, it’s 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, there’d 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 didn’t 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 it—a lot. I’ve been wanting new experiences, wanting to let loose, and that’s exactly what I did tonight, and I loved it. I didn’t 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 wouldn’t have the chance?
I’m sure some other woman is already sitting in his lap. He’ll take her home and be discreet about it, meanwhile I’m 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. It’s Cam. A wave of relief crashes over me.
“What are you doing here?” I ask.
“I had to close our tab first. The way you darted out of there had me nervous. You okay?” I nod and sit down. He shuts the door and walks to the other side, climbing in.
“It said one passenger,” the driver states.
“She meant two,” he answers, shutting his door.
The driver gives me a cautionary look in the rearview mirror, and I nod my agreement. He’ll 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.
“You’re a dick,” I mutter under my breath.
“You 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.”
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 isn’t anything more than friends with benefits. I can’t let him do nice things like that; it confuses me.
After a few minutes, his voice cuts through the silence. “Why did you give him your number?”
I look over at him and smile. “In case we ever want to add a third.”
“Hm,” he hums, but something about it tells me we’re not done with this conversation.
After a minute, I glance back at him over my shoulder, and he’s 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. I’m going straight into the shower. He’s behind me, still not saying a word. Something is up with him.
“In case—we—ever wanted to add a third.” I internally cringe.
“Is there a problem?” I fake a smirk. “If you’re not up for it, I’ll bet one of his friends is. No big deal.” I wave him off and head toward the stairs. It’s harsh, but I’m saying it for myself. I need to remind myself this isn’t more.
He catches up to me and wraps his arms around my stomach. “You want to know what it’s like getting fucked by two men at the same time?”
I shrug with a smile, egging him on and secretly hoping he doesn’t call my bluff.
“Okay.” He nips at my neck. “Let me show you what you’ve been missing out on.”
My heart stops. “What? No, that’s okay.”
“If you want to know, then let’s do it.”
I shake my head. It’s not a fantasy I need to fulfill, by any means, but it’s fun to read about in books. Besides, I don’t think I’m in a mental space that would allow me to handle more than one man, I only trust Cam.
“I was joking. Just trying to get a rise out of you.”
“You got a rise out of me, baby.”
I scoff. “Baby?”
He nods. “Tonight, you’re gonna sleep like a baby.”
“That phrase is stupid. Babies don’t sleep, they cry all night.”
“I know. Get your toy, Jordan. The one he hated most.”
