Authors: Mercy Celeste
It wasn’t until she was standing on the floor in the large open living space that she discovered she wasn’t alone. Bullet stood in her kitchen wearing nothing but a pair of blue jeans, his tanned back turned to her as he worked dough on the counter.
“What are you doing?” Curious, she pulled up a seat at the island counter to watch.
“Making cinnamon rolls. Do you like cinnamon rolls?” There was a streak of flour dusted across his chest where he’d wiped his hand. His eyes seemed alive, sparkling blue, the exact color of the summer sky.
“Yeah, I like … wait. You’re baking cinnamon rolls from scratch? Who the hell are you?” That’s when she noticed food and grocery bags littering her counters and floors; hot molten waves of
oh yeah
washed over her. A golden god who could bake pastry could move in with her any day of the week.
“My mama taught me to cook when I was a kid. She had to redirect my energy somehow, I guess. Plus I liked to eat … a lot. She told me kneading dough built muscle. It was probably the smartest thing I ever did—learn to cook. That is.”
“You can cook too. Damn, Bullet, can I keep you?”
“You can keep me until training camp starts. Then I belong to the Saints.” He grinned at her, and something deliciously wicked swirled in her belly.
His grin turned to a frown as she looked around the room. “Where’s Trigger?”
“Probably checking out of the hotel or running a couple of errands. He said he’d be back soon.” He pounded the dough into a ball, then placed it into a bowl, covered it, and set it on the counter to rise.
“When did you do all this shopping and change clothes? You’ve changed clothes.” Too much was swirling in her mind. Trig was staying the week with her. And Bullet, how did Bullet fit into this strange little scenario?
“I left you and Trigger sleeping just after dawn. I went back to the hotel, showered, changed, and thought about some things. On the way back, I decided I was hungry. I guess I went overboard.”
“I can see that, Bullet. There’s a lot of meat here, and ice cream. I’m going to get fat with you around.” She blushed thinking about the night before and the creative things this man had done to her after he’d stuffed her full of chicken and biscuits. Damn, she couldn’t look at the counter without thinking about being spread over it with a man on either side doing nasty, wonderful things to her body. “Maybe not.”
“I’m leaving tomorrow, babe, unless you put in a good word for me with Trigger. You’re his woman, much as I’d like you for myself. He’s been in love with you since school. I don’t want to get in the way of that.” He leaned against the sink and wiped his hands with a wad of paper towels. “You didn’t know that, did you?”
“No, I was pretty much doing my own thing. Trig lived down the street. I’ll admit I had a crush, but I didn’t think he’d ever look twice at me, so I kept to myself.” She played with the ceramic chicken salt-and-pepper set that sat useless on the counter, purely for decoration.
“And you didn’t even know I existed, did you?”
She shook her head no. “Did you know I existed?”
“Hell yeah, dorky brain babe. I knew who you were, Kailey. Everyone did. You were the only person who thought you were anonymous. The rest of us either envied you or hated you. You made everything seem easy—calculus, oh dear God. I barely made it through that class, and you made straight fucking As. You were a damned pretty girl too, one who hid her body and her looks behind dumpy clothes and thick glasses. I’m glad you finally realized you were beautiful.” His smile could melt glass. A megawatt, movie-star-quality smile that seduced her from across the room.
“You’re just saying that because I saw Trig first. You want him jealous and off his game. Why is that?” She had an idea. She wandered into the sitting area, crawled into the massive sectional sofa that took up most of the room, tucked her legs up beside her body, and leaned back.
“You know, Trig and I go way back. I was his wingman on the field and off. We shared a lot of things. I wanted a taste of the old days, I wanted a taste of you, of you and me and Trig.” He followed her into the sitting room and sat on the back of the sofa with one leg on the floor, the other crooked at the knee. “And you taste good enough to keep, Kailey Whitmore. Can I keep you?”
That surprised her. First, Trig wanted her to move in with him, now Bullet. Had she grown a third boob? Did she taste like candy? Why now?
“I’m not the type of woman you can keep, Bullet. Money doesn’t impress me much. I have a bad tendency to work long hours. I might take off on a dig in South America or Africa without any notice. I can’t cook, sew, or do anything remotely wife-like. On top of that, I don’t know one damned thing about football.”
“Maybe that’s why I like you so much, Kai. You have no idea who I am. I’m tired of women who see me on TV throwing themselves at me. The cougars, barracudas, some sharks in high heels circle me, trying to get pregnant, hoping to marry me or just take my money. I’m tired of being alone, and I want…”
“You want what you had with Trig all those years ago, before he found out you were in love with him.” His eyes turned hard, the teasing light and the color fading to cold silver. She’d hit a nerve.
“I’m not gay. I don’t fuck men, and I don’t need Trig Morgan to help me get off.” He slid over the sofa, his eyes so intense she couldn’t tear her gaze away. He loomed over her, his body huge, intimidating. She backed into the nook of the sectional, a trickle of fear slithering into her throat.
“There are different kinds of love, Bullet, and you love Trig. I can see it. You want him, if not sexually, then companionably. You like to touch him. You call his name, encourage him. He’s your soul mate, and it scares you how much you want him, doesn’t it?” She stroked Bullet’s shoulder. He was smooth and golden brown and so ripped she wanted to cry with joy. His eyes, though, were cold as he loomed over her, denying her observation.
“You’re wrong. Kailey, Trig is my friend—or he used to be. I’m not sure what he is to me anymore. This was just for kicks, nothing more. I like you, Kailey. Hell. I could love you if Trig wasn’t there first. You’re his woman.” He pressed closer to her, his soul bare on his face. He loved Trig. It was all right there in his eyes. His fear of losing him was so clear. There was something else there as well—something that scared her.
“I’m nobody’s woman, Bullet. I’m free, and I intend to remain single for the rest of my life. I don’t want a repeat of the last eleven years.” Great, she’d let him turn the tables on her. She’d let him put her on the defensive; the look in his eyes told her he’d scored.
“Does Trigger know that?” He picked at the ties that held her robe closed, tugging a little at a time until she felt the fabric gape open.
“Stop that.” She gripped the lapels together, aware that his mouth loomed closer to hers. “Stop seducing me, Bullet. Of course Trig knows. I’ve told him I’m not looking for a relationship right now.”
“But he wants you to come to New Orleans anyway.” He wouldn’t be deterred. His fingers somehow found their way inside her robe. The material slipped from her hands. She was lost in his eyes and didn’t really mind his fingers brushing across her stomach, slowly caressing her until her mind was rattled and she forgot what they were arguing about. “Why don’t you come to New Orleans? Help me find a house. You can go back to that college at the end of the year, sexually sated, no ties, no relationship, just lots of hot sex.”
“With you?” Oh God, yes, that would be wonderful. His long, thick fingers grazed her thighs, working slowly upward until he found that spot that made her want to purr.
“You’re already wet just thinking about making love with me, aren’t you, Kai? Slippery wet and hot.” He parted the tender folds resting his thumb just beneath her clit.
“That wasn’t the question.” She forgot what that question was as he stroked her, gliding up along the tip of her clit, gently flicking her until her body trembled.
“With me, with Trig. I don’t mind sharing you. With or without Trig, I want you, Kailey. Can I have you?” His mouth grazed hers, his tongue gentle, cunning, seducing hers from hiding. She opened for him—mouth and legs and heart. Oh God, he felt so good against her hands, his chest against her breasts. She wanted him so badly she could taste it.
“Yes,” she sighed against his mouth. “You can have me, Bobby, now, oh please now, before I melt.”
His mouth twisted in victory as he pulled her beneath his body. Stripping her robe in one quick motion, he pressed against her. His cock—hot, hard, and thick—pulsed against her vagina, denim in the way of heaven. “Say you’ll come to New Orleans for the summer. Come and play, Kailey. You need to play.”
“I’ll come to New Orleans, but just for a few days. Bobby. Please, Bobby, stop teasing me.” White light whirled in her vision. Liquid need, hot and all-consuming, coursed through her veins. She’d promise him anything, if he would just stop teasing her.
His chuckle washed over her like lava, inflaming her. He’d won. She wanted him. She wanted everything he promised—sin, sex, fun, and Trig. She wanted him and Trig, both of them. She didn’t want to share them. She wanted it all, every luscious little bit of both of them.
She cried out when he pulled away. She watched in fascination as he tugged his jeans over his hips. She sighed when his knees pressed between her legs, pushing her wide. He was thick, Goddamn, he was so thick she thought she would split wide open. He pushed into her, slowly spreading her legs, lifting her higher against the cushions until he was seated against her pelvis.
“You feel so damned good, Kailey. I could stay here forever.” He rocked into her, slowly withdrawing, gliding back in deeper each time. The muscles in his shoulders bunched, strained, and flexed beneath her hands making her crazy.
“Bullet.” The word love entered her mind. She quickly squelched it. She loved him. She loved Trigger, She wanted, wanted, wanted … greedy desire spiked inside her, twisting and clawing until she gave in. Crying for more she repeated his name. Arching her body against his, she shattered into a million pieces. She wanted everything.
Chapter Nine
Trigger watched them on the couch, his best friend and the woman he loved in each other’s arms, their bodies connected. Each straining against the other, begging, pleading, gasping. Jealousy ripped through him, hot and nasty. It gripped him by the balls, clawing at him. He wanted to kill Bullet, drag him off her straining body, and tear his throat out.
Her cries of pleasure worked against him. Her golden body arched into Bullet, her breasts gleamed with sweat. Her legs were spread wide as Bullet thrust his equally golden body into hers, the muscles in his ass clenching and unclenching as he pumped into her, his eyes gleaming with desire and love. She came beneath him, calling his name, begging him for more. Begging, pleading, promising the world, she would come to New Orleans for him, be his forever if he’d just love her harder. And then she called a different name—Trig, she cried out for Trig while Bullet worked into her. She wanted him and Bullet; she wanted them both.
He set his bags on the floor, his body and mind at war. She wouldn’t come to New Orleans for him but she would for Bobby. She would be his only if Bobby was part of the package.
Fucking Bobby.
Goddamn, she looked magnificent beneath his best friend with her beautiful breasts straining against his chest and her gorgeous eyes glazed over in orgasm. His cock jerked and throbbed inside his jeans. His heart slammed in his chest. He stumbled across the room like a man possessed, dropping to his knees on the floor beside them, where he laid his hand on Bobby’s back, drawing his attention.
“Trigger, man, she is magnificent. I couldn’t help myself.” Bullet looked startled and apologetic. There were stars in his eyes when he looked up at him. She called his name, touching his arm.
“It’s all right, Bullet. I like seeing you inside her.” He groaned, running his hand down Bullet’s body, his cock throbbing at the contact. This was wrong, yet so very right. “You’re magnificent inside her. She loves it. Look at her face, Bullet. She loves your big cock thrusting inside her. I want to watch you with her, Bullet. Oh God. That is so nice.”
“Trigger.” Bullet flexed between Kailey’s legs, his cock slid out, then back in. Trig laid his hand on Bullet’s ass, next to Kailey’s thigh, urging him faster, marveling at the feel of his muscles as he flexed slowly. “Take your shirt off, Trig, I want you to feel this with me.”
Trig groaned. He couldn’t help it. Bullet’s eyes on his body inflamed him. Kailey’s cries of pleasure ignited something in him he hadn’t known existed. He stripped out of his shirt, letting Bullet touch him, pull him closer. He placed his hand on the small of his back. “Kailey, baby, Trigger wants you to suck his cock, baby, like you did for me last night. Will that be all right?”
She looked at him then, her eyes flaring with want. She nodded reaching for him, her fingers useless on his zipper. He throbbed against the heat of their hands. He couldn’t shed his clothes fast enough before he was on the sectional with them, leaning over her, her fingers around his shaft, stroking him, guiding him to her mouth. Bullet buried his face in between her breasts, his hair grazing Trig’s thighs, sending shock waves through him.
*
“That’s it, baby, suck him, take him deep. Oh God, that is … oh God, I don’t think I’m going to last much longer.” He held still, his breath ragged as he fought for control.
“That’s it, Kai, suck him. He tastes so good. Doesn’t he, baby?” Bullet flinched when Trig laid his hand on his back, almost costing him the control he wanted so much to hang on to. Unlike Trig, who recovered quickly, when Bullet came, that was it for a long time. Trig’s hands on him felt so goddamned good, he wanted to burst into her.
Trig’s dick in her mouth as she sucked him, taking him deeper with each flex of Trig’s hips wasn’t helping. Bullet throbbed, aching to come. Aching for more until there was nothing left. She came again, her vaginal muscles sucking him in the same rhythm as her mouth did Trig’s cock. He buried his face to block the view. “I can’t, I can’t, Trigger, I can’t.”