Page 137 of Unleashed

She almost snarls at me, but doesn’t answer. Greg releases my shoulder to snake his hand beneath my arm and grabs my right boob. He then glances at her. “What, Litman? She’s my wife.”

As Greg pushes the limits of his role and massages my tit in front of most of our team standing nearby, Betsy snaps, “No one wants to hear about your tawdry sexcapades.”

Before I answer, Greg says, “Hardly cheap or scandalous. We’re trying to start a family. That sounds pretty wholesome to me.” Holy shit. Nothing about our sex last night was wholesome. Or in the realm of family planning. What the hell is his angle?

Hadley gasps but doesn’t say more. However, Greg didn’t just broadcast that for Betsy’s benefit. Now, the rest of the team believes this.

Finn approaches us, his disbelieving eyes locked on Greg, grabbing my tit. “What’s going on here?”

Betsy screeches, “Rod is blabbing to everyone about him and your sister making a baby! Make it stop, Finn!”

Finn narrows his eyes at Greg, and his jaw twitches when he notices his hand on my breast.

Greg releases it and drops his hand to my ribs. Finn clears his throat and cocks an eyebrow at Hadley. Whatever she signals back to him works because Finn looks at his clipboard and says, “Okay, everyone. Let’s get started.”

Blue hair catches my eye, and I notice Trashy walking to the spectators’ bleachers. No, no, no. She can’t be here.

Because Tansy sees us and, with Betsy still watching, I grab Greg’s jaw and kiss his stubbled cheek, nothing lingering because we’re not together. I need to pound that into my brain. But when I turn to pick up my glove, he yanks me back with his mouth to my ear. “I’m about to hump your damn leg.”

I whisper, “Your woman is here.” He looks over my head and waves. I roll my eyes at him. “Why did you invite her?”

“She wanted to have dinner. I mentioned I had softball practice. I didn’t ask her to be here.”

“I hope she plays along,” I say with a sigh.

Greg goes back to my ear. “Get the equipment shed key and meet me there.”

I lean away from him with a frown. “Are you kidding me? You have a date.”

He yanks me back to him. “I don’t give a fuck. All I can think about after last night is your tit in my mouth and your pussy on my dick.”

I swallow as I escape his grip and shake my head. “We can’t.”

Greg moves closer to me. “I have a semi. Do me a solid before I’m solid. Christ.”

“Not when your girlfriend is here.”

“She’s not my girlfriend.”

“I’m not your wife.”

Greg growls beneath his breath, and it makes me wetter. My windbag brother ends his speech with, “Simone and Rodwell, grab a ball and warm up.”

Greg mutters, “Awesome,” knowing he can’t argue it since we’re supposed to be married, and sulks to the ball bag but then veers off to the stands. He props his foot on the bottom bench and talks to Trashy.

I walk over to the balls, and Patrice asks, “Did Rod leave you already for another woman? He gets around more than my tom cat.”

“We’re messed up and trying to make each other jealous,” I admit because Patrice will warp it to her comprehension, anyway.

I look over my shoulder and see Greg laughing with Trashy as she probably tells him some stupid story about tattoos.

As Patrice wanders off and I wait for Greg, Hadley asks, “What is he doing?”

“Whoring.”

She squeals, “Simone!”

I shrug. “Whatever.”

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