Page 6 of Force Play

Slowing the kiss until I’m the one leaning in chasing more, he pulls away and rests his forehead against mine. “Ready to go?”

“Yes.” It feels like more than just three simple letters and I can’t put my finger on why.

It’s only a few steps from the dark club to the waiting car, but the cool night air has chills racing over my skin, still sticky from sweat and tequila. Dom leads us to our ride and I follow, my legs wobbling from that kiss.

Like the gentleman I imagine he was raised to be, Dean opens the door, letting us in first. This car is larger than the one that brought us here and is set up like a limo, but is the size of a normal SUV. It’s clearly not an Uber.

Dom takes a seat in the back, settling me in his lap, his palms splayed across my thighs, keeping me right where he wants me. Dean joins us, moving towards the front and speaking to the driver before turning back toward us.

“You wanted to play a game? Give him a show he’ll never forget,” Dom says, his voice strained with desire.

Stunned at what he’s asking, I let him twist me in his lap, pinning my knees on either side of his legs. Immediately, I feel him grow hard, jutting up towards his stomach. Even with the layers between us, there’s no mistaking how perfectly long and thick he is.

“What’s wrong? Don’t want to play anymore?” There’s a dare in his eyes as he waits for me to make a move.

I shouldn’t, but knowing Dean can see exactly what Dom’s doing to me only heightens my need to be reckless with him. Matching Dom’s taunt I look over my shoulder at his friend and rock my hips.

Once.

Twice.

And the third time, a whimper escapes me. I’m too turned on to stop now that I’ve started.

Pain bites into the swell of my hips where Dom’s grip tightens and my skirt rides dangerously high, but neither of those things matter with how fast he has me climbing.

A pained groan behind me has my eyes straying before my head snaps forward, Dom’s fingers pinching my chin.

“Eyes on me,” Dom practically growls at me. “He can watch you, but you better be looking at me when you come, or this stops.” He rolls his hard cock over my clit until I’m panting in his ear.

“Please,” I whine when he stills underneath me.

“Tell me you’re mine, and I’ll let you make a mess all over me.”

Delirious with the need for release, I say the one thing I shouldn’t: “I’m yours.”

Chapter 1

Dom

As the oldest child, a professional athlete, and all around pretty awesome guy, I’m not surprised to find my mom looking at me like the sun shines out of my ass. The Bandits just lost to the New York Metros in extra innings, but you would never know it by the way her eyes well with emotion as she looks up at me.

“No matter how many times I watch you play under the lights, it’s still surreal,” she gushes.

“For crying out loud, Kelly, he doesn’t need you to pump him up. His ego is already the size of Texas.” My dad’s laughter booms through the concrete corridor outside the locker room as he approaches with my younger sisters. Even when he’s teasing her, you can tell she’s the love of his life. He stops behind her, wraps his arms around her waist, kisses her neck, pulling a pleased sigh from my mom as she relaxes back into his embrace.

“Can you not?” My youngest sister, Dottie, groans when he kisses her neck.

It’s always been like this—the two of them being handsy and loving on each other. My childhood friends always questioned how I dealt with it, and teased me endlessly; especially when my mom showed up at my high school ready to pop with Dottie.

Trauma from that period of my life runs deep. I’m still haunted by the memory of one of my teammates walking up to my dad after a game and giving him a high five for giving her the “good baby gravy.”

“Dottie, girl, my advice to you is to get used to this, and be thankful. You’re here because they are gross,” Daelyn says.

“Just think, I’ve been dealing with it for twenty-seven years. That’s eight years longer than you.” I level my middle sister with a look and then turn to Dottie. “And eighteen longer than you.”

“Ew, you’re so old.”

“Daelyn,” Mom scolds. “If he’s old, what does that make me?”

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