Page 129 of My Brother's Teammates

Mateo leaps to his feet, his shorts tented with a raging boner. “We warmed her up for you, man. We need to bounce. Meeting the outlaws.” He winks.

I’d giggle, but Roman’s hand is still pressing against my most sensitive spots, and I’m not sure I can move.

Roman’s fingers start to slip from my pussy, but Jace stops him. “Hold her there for a sec.”

He shrugs, jerking his chin at his hand. “Not a problem. Take your time.”

Teo leans over me, planting a soft kiss on my forehead as Roman drags his fingers in and out of me, almost torturously slow. “I’m going for a shower. Gotta prove our girl wrong about our timekeeping skills.” He sweeps his thumb along my bottom lip. “But when I get back from lunch and we have the house to ourselves, I’m going to fuck you so hard you won’t be able to get out of bed for days.”

His words hang between Roman and me as Jace and Mateo leave the room. By the time Jace comes back into the room, I’m a panting mess. Beads of sweat trickle down my temples, and the whimpers tumbling out of my mouth are no longer in my control.

“You’re so pretty when you’re a sweaty, needy mess, aren’t you, Charlie?” Jace smirks down at me as Roman slips his fingers from me.

“Put this on.” Jace tosses a bundle of black fabric at me.

“What is it?” I manage to pant out, sitting up and unrolling the material to reveal a black, gold, and purple Bayou Blades jersey with his name and number on the back. I can’t help giggling. “Really?” I peek over the top of the shirt, quirking a brow.

“Yes, really. Put. It. On.” He grinds the words out while shucking off his sweatpants. “Then I’m going to fuck you the way I should have when we were in high school.”

Roman grins at me before he whistles on an exhale. “Y’all have fun.” He sweeps his lips against mine, making my heart skip a beat. “Love you.”

“Love you, too. Good luck with Teo and your folks—aaaah.” My sentence ends on a shriek as Jace’s hand finds its way between my legs and he slaps his fingers down on my already sensitive clit.

“Charlotte. Put the fucking shirt on. Now.”

The way his chest heaves and the lust brewing in his eyes tells me he’s not going to last much longer before he snaps.

So I curl my fingers under the hem of my T-shirt and drag it up over my body as slow as I can.

Jace’s breath stutters as my bare breasts are exposed, but I don’t give him very long before I pull the jersey over my head, all the way down over my bare chest, my hips, and tuck it under my butt.

“Happy?” I smirk.

I don’t think happy is the right word to describe my boyfriend right now.

He doesn’t bother answering with words. He doesn’t need to. Instead, he takes two steps toward me, throws me over his fucking shoulder like a Neanderthal, and stomps toward his room.

I’m dangling down his back, flapping my arms, legs, and my hair is flailing wildly as I scream, slapping his ass for good measure.

Mateo’s door opens, and he sticks his head out, his gaze following us to the other side of the apartment. “Fuck. Wish we had more time to stay and watch whatever the fuck’s about to go down.”

Ten bucks says he’s stroking his dick, but I have no time to look, because in seconds, I’m plonked into the middle of Jace’s bed.

He crouches down to the floor like he’s looking for something. When he comes up empty, he dips out of the room and I huff, sitting up in the bed and crossing my arms. Not sure what he thinks he needs, but he could have at least said something.

Fucker. Got me all worked up and left? I think—the fuck—not.

I push up onto my elbows, staring at the door. “What the fuck, Jace?”

He reappears with a handful of lace fabric and a wicked grin.

“Hands up.”

I level him with a glare. “Those better be off-cuts.”

He holds up two strings of pieced together lace. “Off-cuts and tied together. Less talking, more doing.” He gestures at the poles either side of the bed.

When I move my hands close to the bars, he grabs them one at a time, tying me to his bed with the extra lace—pieces discarded once the lingerie is made. He leaves enough slack that I can move, or he can move me if he’d like, but it’s not enough that I can touch him.

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