Third and Long: A Sports Romance (10 page)

“Mom, dad? This is Tamber Long, the love of my life.”

Tamber sticks her hand out and says, “Pleasure to meet you.”

Neither of my parents shake her hand, and this little meeting gets extremely awkward. Points to Tamber for being so totally chill about this.

I’m going to have to buy her something super nice. Not that she’ll take it. She’s like me in that way. She wants to earn her success. I admire that.

“Dad—”

“Son. We will entertain this fancy for two days. But that’s all it is. A fancy.”

Tamber looks crushed. She’s either great at acting, or my parents are simply that good at making people feel like shit.

Before they turn to go inside, my mom decides to say something to Tamber.

“I’m sure you’re a lovely girl,” she utters, her eyes looking down upon my fake fiancée.

The statement makes me cringe, so I can only wonder how it makes Tamber feel.

Jeffrey, our butler, opens the door from the inside, and my parents disappear into the house. Gregory brings our bags up to the front door and sets them on a cart that Jeffrey will wheel to our respective bedrooms.

“Master Oliver, I will escort Ms. Long to her room for the evening. Your parents have requested an early night tonight. You and your fiancée are to have breakfast with them in the morning. I will see that your bags are taken to your rooms.”

“Thanks, Jeff.”

Tamber looks at me like I’m throwing her to the wolves. In a way I am. I’ll make it up to her tomorrow. She just has to survive breakfast. Then we can relax on the mansion grounds. It’s definitely too cold out to go for a swim in my parents’ Olympic-size pool which is a shame because I would kill to see Tamber in a bikini. I figure she’ll enjoy our horses. Maybe we can go for a roll in the hay.

“I can give you two a moment,” Jeffrey says, turning around.

I realize that means he’s expecting us to kiss goodnight. Acting is not my forte. I grab Tamber’s hand, and she’s giving me a hell of a look. Somehow she’s even more cute when she’s mad. I’m starting to realize that there isn’t an emotion in the world she could be feeling where she wouldn’t look absolutely stunning. It’s so effortless too.

Agreeing to be friends might have been the stupidest decision of my life. Looking at her in the tight red Lions shirt and her skinny jeans, I start getting hard again. I tried the friend-with-benefits line once, and she turned me down.

“What’s this all about?” she asks.

“Sorry my parents are old school. They would shit if we were to sleep in the same bedroom,” I say trying to explain one of the many oddities of my parents.

She groans clearly unhappy to be sent into a strange house all by herself.

“But I mean if you want to sleep with me, I can figure something out.”

She smirks and shoves me playfully.

“See you tomorrow morning?” I ask her, feeling all the blood in my body rush to my cock. What I wouldn’t give to spend the night with her. I can’t help but picture her in a little nightie waiting for me to come to bed. God if only.

“If I survive until then,” she says.

“My parents aren’t so bad. Besides you’ll like the guest room.”

“Why’s that?” she asks, moving closer to me.

I’m afraid to press my body into her because I’m hard. The last thing I need is her freaking out again, and tipping off Jeffrey that we’re playing a game here.

Holding her hands, I look down into her gorgeous brown eyes and feel her presence. Just friends? I’m such an idiot. Somehow I set up a fake life that’s better than my reality.

“You’ll see,” I say.

Tomorrow I’m going to call my sisters Carolyn and Jillian. It’s a fine mess I’ve made for myself, and I’m hoping they’ll be amendable to giving me advice for a change. Chances are my mom has already call them, telling them what a disappointment I’ve become.

Before I can kiss Tamber on the cheek, she pulls me close to her. When my leg hits hers, her eyes go wide. While she doesn’t say anything, I know she’s feeling my cock again. We kiss each other briefly and separate. Totally normal couple behavior, right? Fortunately, Jeffrey isn’t looking.

“This way Miss,” Jeffrey says when he senses that we’ve said our good nights.

I watch her walk down the long hallway toward the guest wing. Her amazing booty rounds out those skinny jeans, and if I wasn’t totally hard before I am now. Sadly, I head down the opposite hallway to the family wing. My dad catches my attention from the kitchen. He’s been waiting there for me. This is going to be a long night.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Tamber

Admittedly the guest room is utterly fabulous. It’s the only thing stopping me from calling an Uber and getting the fuck out of here. What a mistake! Pretend to be my fiancée, he said. It’ll be fun, he said. Two seconds after we get here, his parents have already brushed me off and stuck me in the guest wing.

I’m starting to get a better picture for why Logan is the way he is. I’d be out partying every night too if I had his parents. For all his mom knows, I am her son’s fiancée, and she can’t even be bothered to shake my hand?

What did I get myself into? Before I can even get comfortable and take in the sheer opulence of the guest room, I fire off a text to Gwen.

Remind me why I’m doing this?

Gwen will give me some much needed reassurance. I’d go stir crazy all alone in a room like this without her as a lifeline. I suppose I could text Logan too. Honestly, I’m mad at him right now. There’s a lot he could have done to prepare me, yet he told me basically nothing about his parents and his home.

This whole thing is completely crazy, and exactly the kind of disaster that Gwen would get herself into. While I’m not happy about receiving the cold shoulder from two people who apparently hate me sight unseen, I am happy that they didn’t start asking me a bunch of questions about my relationship with Logan.

They’ll save that for breakfast.

Because you’re working yourself to death and you need a break.

For once Gwen gives me a serious reply, or so I think until she quickly follows that text up with another.

And you’re going to get that billionaire cock.

Jesus Gwen.

Once and for all we’re friends. I’m not going to fuck him.

I throw my phone on the huge four-poster bed with the velvet duvet. The room is not huge, yet it’s bigger than any guest room I’ve ever seen. Strangely there are no windows, so I figure the room is in the very middle of the mansion. The vaulted ceiling and Baroque wall fixtures makes me feel like Dracula will be paying me a visit any minute.

I wonder for a moment whether Jeffery is waiting outside to make sure I don’t go wandering around at night. Given that Logan’s parents obviously don’t trust me, I figure that’s a distinct possibility. Somehow I manage to go from super busy college student to prisoner of the billionaires. Just my luck.

Then the little mini-fridge catches my eye, and I instantly stop giving a shit about where I am. Please be stocked. Please be stocked. Opening the door, I find the best thing I’ve seen all day: a ton of tiny liquor bottles and a six pack. Hallelujah. I grab a couple of vodka shooters, immediately open one, and drink it.

“Oh that’s rough,” I say out loud to no one in particular. It takes the edge off wonderfully.

“Put it on my tab.” Now I’m talking to myself. Great.

Right. I believe it. Just friends.

Gwen finally texts back. I open the other vodka shooter, but set it down to text Gwen back first.

His parents hate me. So fucking nervous. Drinking alone. Not going to even be able to relax.

No surprise to Gwen that I can’t relax. I promised her I wouldn’t think about school. I wouldn’t think about how bad marketing and The Party Girls are stressing me out. As soon as I get back to civilization, I’m calling them in for an emergency meeting.

In our group chat yesterday, Nayvee suggested birth control panties when we were all brainstorming product ideas. Fortunately, Bailey stepped up and told her that made literally zero sense. I think she might have been talking about a chastity belt.

So far we have a fancy Solo cup, which already exists, chastity panties, and a douche for men which I’m pretty sure is just an enema. And I am not bringing a re-packaged enema to my professor. Why is this so hard?

I drink the second shooter then grab a beer out of the fridge. The perfect product is out there. It’s probably right in front of me, yet I can’t recognize it. Something useful, yet simple, the kind of idea that makes people go: why didn’t I think of that?

The beer starts to go down as easy as the shooters. Regardless of my performance on that bottle of wine the other night, I’m not a big drinker. I’m really not. My parents were big enough drinkers that they basically convinced me never to touch the stuff. However, given that I’m locked in a room until morning, I figure I can make an exception. It’ll pass the time anyway.

Masturbate
.

Gwen texts me her advice for everything. Failed a test? Rub one out. Bad date? Flick the bean. Indigestion? Break out the vibrating dildo. Once Gwen bought me this comically expensive vibrator for my birthday. I tried it once and decided it was way too ridiculous for me to even get in the mood. Besides I don’t really have many fantasies to speak of. The only thing I dream about is walking across stage to get my diploma. That’s not exactly spank material.

Sorry didn’t bring that vibrator.

When I text her back, I assume it’s the end of the conversation. For some reason I’m being optimistic because I know that things are never over until Gwen gets her way.

Soon my phone lights up with a picture of Logan basically naked. He’s holding a towel around his cock. His big, hard impressive cock. The same cock that I accidentally touched and the same cock that bumped up against my leg in front of his parents house.

Every other inch of him is completely naked and sweaty. Then I realize it’s not sweat, it’s water. He’s coming out of the shower in what looks like a locker room. Even though most of his face is obscured, it’s obviously him. Gwen, that bitch, is breaking out the heavy artillery.

You don’t need a vibrator to masturbate.

I giggle at the very thought of the picture. It’s so ridiculous.

Where did you even get this?

I’m waiting for her reply when I realize that my phone is no longer getting a signal. That lightning I noticed on the ride over strikes in the near distance, and I figure that makes my room a dead zone. Without Gwen as my lifeline, I’m really alone.

With nothing else to do but slowly drink a beer, I slip out of my t-shirt and shorts. Down to my bra and panties, I set the beer on the nightstand and poke my head into the bathroom.

The connected bathroom might be bigger than my apartment bedroom. I’m starting to get billionaire envy something fierce. There’s a bath and a shower. For a moment, I think about taking a bath to really unwind.

First, I decide to check out the bed. It’s incredibly soft and warm, and the silk sheets under the velvet duvet feel incredible against my bare skin.

There’s a TV on the wall opposite me, so I turn it on, find the news and keep the volume low. A little background noise is all it usually takes to settle me down. Granted I haven’t slept anywhere but my own apartment since I lived in a freshman dorm.

Logan was right. I feel like I’m staying in a hotel, all expenses paid. There are worse ways to spend my weekend than getting away from my ratty, Gwen-occupied, apartment.

Despite the fact that my phone has no service, I find myself playing with it anyway. Again and again, I can’t help myself, and I flip back to Logan’s naked shower picture.

I find myself salivating to every single inch of his muscles. His rock hard abs and fiercely powerful pecs. Whoever took the picture must have done so right after a workout because Logan’s biceps are so full of power and energy that they look about ready to burst.

The blood of a fierce workout pumps through every part of him, making him hard and firm all over like his cock. Shit, why am I thinking about his cock again?

Suddenly, a great thunder crack shakes the house. Immediately following that a burst of rain rushes down from the sky echoing all around me.

I love the rain. It puts me at ease. Between the dull thunder and the constant pitter-patter of droplets, I fall into the silky, king-size bed. I slip between the sheets, staring at Logan’s mostly naked picture, and I find myself getting
very
comfortable.

Before I know it, my hand creeps absently down my naked tummy. Closing my eyes, I find myself picturing Logan walking into the room like that, all hot and bothered, dripping in a mixture of his own sweat and steamy, shower water.

In my mind, he’s holding the towel around that massive cock, gripping himself tightly. I’ve felt it twice. I think I can approximate it’s size. Then he drops the towel. Maybe it’s on purpose. Maybe it’s an accident. Either way his huge manhood comes out.

He’s even bigger than I thought, or so my mind decides. I picture him smiling at me, his own gaze glancing down to his cock to draw my attention there.