Page 55 of Double Play

Jackson stops moving, lowering his head between her shoulder blades as he recovers. We focus on our girl, skating gentle kisses along her skin and reveling in the soft hums of contentment that vibrate against us. He slowly pulls back, making her wince, and I feel the mixture of our cum gush out as soon as he’s gone. She obviously feels it too, because her eyes flutter open, her nose scrunching up as she shifts above me.

“Something wrong, beautiful?” I ask, chuckling. She pulls off my almost completely soft cock, freezing as it falls from her body.

“Holy shit,” Jacks chokes on a laugh, staring at her pussy as it leaks all over. “That’s one hell of a mess. But it’s hot as fuck.”

She groans. “Glad you think so. You guys are going to need to carry me to the shower after that—and probably hold me up, because I don’t think I can walk right now.”

“We’ve got you,” I say, cradling her cheeks in my palms and pressing my lips to hers. “You did so good. How do you feel?”

She takes a deep, soothing inhale, slowly releasing as she contemplates her answer. “A little sore, but also indescribably happy. I love you both so much.”

Jackson curls over her back, peppering playful kisses all over her face while she giggles and squirms in an attempt to get away. “We love you too, Princess. Thank you for being ours.”

And as always, it’s like he knew what I was thinking—because I couldn’t have said it any better myself.

FORTY-SEVEN

ARDEN

GINA:

I just got off the highway. I’ll be there in about ten.

ME:

OK. Dahlia just went into the owner’s office. I’m nervous. What is this about?

GINA:

There’s nothing to be nervous about. I promise. Just trust me.

I shovemy phone into my purse, looking around the sterile waiting room as my leg bounces about a hundred miles per hour. When Gina called yesterday in a tizzy, telling me she was catching the first flight to Florida so we could meet with the Flare’s owner, I had a million questions. She was pretty vague, saying she was still trying to fill in some of the blanks, and promised to tell me everything she knew when she arrived. Unfortunately, her plane was delayed, so it looks like I’ll be finding out what’s so important at the same time everyone else does.

On top of the anticipation of what’s about to happen, I’m also nervous to see her for the first time since she and my dad visited. They left abruptly, which I don’t really blame them for, since they were pretty thrown off when they learned about Jackson, Hawk, and me. Other than business and surface-level conversation, we haven’t talked much. My dad checks in every couple of days via text, but I honestly think he’s waiting for me to break the ice.

It's been a few days since Jacks came home, and I know we’ll need to sit down with our parents and tell them we’re together for good—consequences be damned—but I’m certainly not looking forward to it. If Gina’s reaction before was anything to go off of, we have our work cut out for us in making them understand that we’re not breaking up. We make each other happy, and we aren’t willing to give up on what we have.

“Sorry I’m late,” she says, busting through the door. Her hair is wild and windblown, she’s wearing yoga pants and a t-shirt that she clearly tried to dress up with a formfitting black blazer, and she looks like she just did the most hardcore cardio workout. “Did they come out yet?”

I shake my head. “No. Dahlia went in with the owner and general manager about twenty minutes ago, but other than that, nobody’s been here. Can you tell me what’s going on?”

She plops down in the chair next to me, setting her tote bag on the floor at our feet before leaning close, making sure that if anyone comes into the room, they won’t be able to eavesdrop. “When you told me what was going on with your coach, it really bugged me. You’re an exceptional decision-maker, especially under pressure, so the fact that she wasn’t trusting you to be in control raised some red flags. I figured I’d just keep an eye on it, but when I saw how badly it was affecting your stats, I couldn’t stand by and let her continue to drive your career into the ground. So, I did some digging and was able to get ahold of your old college coach. He told m?—"

She’s cut off when the door opens, and the Flare’s general manager, Justin Ramos, pokes his head out. “Ladies, we’re ready for you.” I swallow the thick lump in my throat, standing and smoothing the wrinkles from my dress before following her into the office. It’s bright, the warm Florida sun filtering through the wall of windows. The team’s owner, Marcus Chambers, sits behind a luxurious mahogany desk, a stern look on his face as he greets us.

“Miss and Mrs. Levine,” he says with a nod, motioning to take the two empty seats across from him. I’ve only met him twice, but both times, he terrified me with his reserved, surly demeanor. You think I’d be used to it by now, considering one of my boyfriends is very similar, but it still makes me want to vomit every time I see him around the facility.

I turn toward my chair, catching Dahlia out of the corner of my eye. Her usual hardened expression is nowhere to be found, and it’s clear that she isn’t having the best day so far. She looks like they’ve already put her through the wringer—I’d have given anything to have been a fly on the wall for whatever went down before we were called in.

“Thank you for reaching out to us about your concerns,” Justin says to Gina. “Seeing as how the Flare hasn’t gotten off to a great start, we certainly want to know if something is going on that might affect the team. We were expecting better than a two-and-six record a month into the season, and on paper, we believe our players are capable of much more than that. So, hearing that there may be some discrepancies with our staff is something we want to address before it gets worse.”

Gina sits up straight, confidence radiating from her petite body as she addresses the group. “As Arden’s agent, it’s my job to make sure the organization is setting her up for success. When I found out that Ms. Owens was insisting on calling the plays from the sideline, it immediately raised some red flags. My client has played her position for years and has always shown how capable she is of making sound decisions. She works hard to learn her teammates’ likes and dislikes, and prior to their first match, had succeeded in creating an amazing dynamic with them on the court. So, I knew there had to be another reason for the mistrust, and excuse my frankness”—she looks over at Dahlia—“blatant sabotage.”

“That’s ridiculous,” she retorts with a scoff. But I don’t miss the way her wide gaze darts to me before focusing back on Gina.

Marcus sits forward, clasping his hands together on the desk in front of him. “That’s a pretty serious accusation, Mrs. Levine. Why would Coach Owens want her own team to fail?”

“Well,” she continues, “at first, I couldn’t figure that out either. But when I talked to Buddy Taylor, who coached both women at Penn State, it all started to come together.

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