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TATUM
Wren: Thinking about you.
Igroaned from my spot on the couch in Gideon’s living room. Three words from my little bird, and I was hard as a fucking rock. Well, three words and a photo of her sitting on her couch. She must have propped her phone up on the mountain of clutter she had on her coffee table to take the photo of her on her couch.
Wren was lying on her back, legs propped up against the wall and ankles crossed. Her head rested on the edge of the deep blue cushion, blonde hair spilling down the front of the couch. She was in a skimpy little nightgown, one hand caressing her perky breast. The other hand was between her legs, fingers disappearing beneath pale pink lace, out of view.
Her eyes were closed, and her lips parted as if she was sucking in a shallow breath as subtle waves of pleasure consumed every inch of her. My thumbs flew over the phone screen.
Tatum: Goddamn, Little Bird. You are so fucking sexy. Slide those fingers into your pussy.
“Want a beer?” Gideon asked as he hopped out of the leather recliner that was catty-cornered to me.
I glanced up from my phone. “Nah, I’m good. Did Theo say if he’s running late?” It was Tuesday. Gideon and I had gone into the facilities for a workout this morning and a few hours of watching film, but we had the rest of the day off—thank God. Unfortunately, it was Tuesday and that meant it was the time of the week where Coach made us have some mandatory fun. With the rookie. We were nearing mid-season, and all of us were fucking wiped. No one felt up to mini-golf, a concert, or ax throwing. Especially not after Seth had wiped our asses throwing axes.
“Yeah, he was waiting for Angie to pick up the kids.”
Speak of the devil. “Theo just texted the group chat and said he’s on his way.”
“Cool,” Gideon hollered from the kitchen.
My phone buzzed again with a new photo from Wren. She had gotten rid of the lace lingerie and was lying on the couch, completely and majestically naked. She had gotten on her hands and knees, arching her back like a stretching cat, giving me a perfect side view of her ass and tits. She was a fucking angel. All those long limbs and sexy as sin curves. I wanted to dig my fingers into her hips, keeping a tight grip on her ass as I guided my cock into the promised land. Another text came through, but I tapped the notification and swiped it away, too hypnotized by my girl to give a shit who it was.
Tatum: You gonna be a good girl for me tonight, Little Bird? I’m gonna fuck that tight little pussy so hard you’ll feel it all the way to next Sunday. When I’m done with your cunt, I’m gonna put you on your knees and finish on your tits so you remember who they belong to.
“Hey, Tatum,” Heidi said as she bounced into the house carrying an armful of grocery bags. “Here for some mandatory fun?”
“Yeah,” I said as I pocketed my phone and discreetly adjusted my thickening erection. I eyed the bags piled up in her arms. “Need a hand?”
She looked longingly at the door, silently debating how many trips she wanted to make. “Yeah, actually.” She smirked. “There’s a case of sports drinks with your face on them in the back of my SUV.”
I cackled as I jogged to the front door. “Please tell me that my face is why you bought ’em.”
Heidi snorted. “You bet your fine britches I did. It’s gonna drive Gid nuts. I’ll put money on him turning them around so your face is looking at the back of the fridge or just ripping the wrappers off.”
I walked outside and spotted Seth rolling down the street in the shiny new gas guzzler he drove. I grabbed the case of drinks out of Heidi’s car, perched it on my shoulder, then loaded up my free arm with the rest of her grocery bags.
“I meant to tell you,” Heidi began while I pack-muled the rest of the groceries into the kitchen. Gideon was helping her unload the bags that were already piled on the island. “A few weeks back, I ran into that cheerleader you tackled.” She unbagged three packages of chicken breasts and stuffed them into the fridge.
I kept my eyes trained on the countertop as I set the bags down, careful not to squish her keto-friendly loaf of bread. Gideon was on a low-carb, low-sugar kick. He claimed it gave him an edge. I claimed that brown rice and oatmeal gave me my edge. “Yeah, she, uh… She’s cool.” Everyone knew that Wren and I had done a few days of press together. Reporters were constantly hounding me about seeing her.
At a stadium block party, Wren had been confronted about us in front of a crowd. She handled it like a pro, but that night when I snuck over and held her as she fell asleep, I knew it had taken a toll on her.
It wasn’t that either of us wanted to flaunt our relationship, but not telling our friends—it was a heavy weight to carry.
I wondered just how long we could make it before the weight of secrets, half-truths, and lies began to crush us.
“It’s a shame the team has stupid rules. I mean, you two look so good together. You’re like Barbie and Ken.”
I cocked an eyebrow and looked at Gideon. He frowned as he pulled his wife into his arms and gave her a stern look. “What? Are you saying I’m not sexy anymore?”
Heidi rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean. I’m just saying, Tatum and Wren look good together.”
The front door opened and closed, and two sets of footsteps thundered into the house. Heidi shook her head when Theo and Seth barreled into the kitchen, elbowing each other as if they were third graders fighting their way to the front of the line.
“Dude—” Theo bellowed when he rounded the corner.
Seth had a shit-eating grin on his stupid face and was tapping his phone on his open palm.
