Sexy Is Never Ignored [Sports Wives 3] (Siren Publishing Menage Amour)
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by Destiny Blaine
Description: [Menage Amour: Erotic Menage a Quatre Romance, M/F/M and M/F/M/M, Multiple Partners] He is Sports and Entertainment World's Man of the Year. She is the woman lucky enough to marry the highest paid quarterback in the history of the Professional Football Confederacy, but Cassie Teller's luck doesn't stop there. They are the Tellers and some believe they're untouchable. They enjoy a lavish lifestyle with all the perks to go along with it. This includes a discreet threesome. But those living in the public eye seldom escape the press unscathed. When Cassie decides she wants one more man, a bitter ex-wife drives the press closer and closer to unveiling one very dark secret. Soon two professional football super-stars face the unthinkable--losing their careers. Note: This is an "atypical" Menage Amour title with spousal sharing. [Erotic Menage a Quatre Romance. Warning: Contains graphic sexual content and adult language.]
eBook Publisher: Siren-BookStrand, Inc./Menage Amour, 2009 2009
eBookwise Release Date: May 2010
7 Reader Ratings:
Available eBook Formats: OEBFF Format (IMP) [109 KB]
Reading time: 67-94 min.
"5 CHERRIES: I have been a fan of Destiny Blaine since the very first book I read of hers and let me just tell you, this book is above and beyond any book than I had read from her yet. It was scorching hot and I am surprised the book didn't spontaneously burst into flames. The ending of Sports Wives 3 was brilliant and it couldn't have ended in a better or funnier way. If you are a lover of ménage writing, then Sports Wives 3 is definitely the book for you. If watching a football game on Sunday is not your thing, leave your man to watch it while you read this book and the outcome will be a very exciting afternoon. You will be a lover of at least football players when you are finished reading it. Be sure to have a pitcher of cold water, you are going to need it. This was an arousing and brilliantly written book and now I am off to read books one and two!" -- Val, Whipped Cream Reviews
* * * *
Corby raised his glass and slowly tilted the rim in my direction. Our eyes held in a fixated trance across the crowded room. He brought the champagne flute to his lips ready to drink in the celebration.
He sipped and... he missed. Sometimes irony has peculiar timing.
I love two men. One took my virginity and the other is my husband, professional football player, Corby Teller. He's responsible, in a sense, for the mass confusion in my personal life.
Thanks to Corby's single-handed manipulation, Steve now lives with us. He's the one who snatched my purity and claimed bragging rights many years ago. Yes, it's an unconventional, if not kinky, arrangement. If some of the people I sit alongside tonight even suspected, they'd toss me out on my skinny ass. Instead, they shower kisses on my cheeks and fill my ears with compliments.
These are the same people who slandered my name only months earlier. The same men who wanted to grope me whenever they thought my husband and their wives looked the other way.
Before Steve moved in, the tabloids dubbed me the gold digger, an adulteress, a siren. Corby remains unscathed to this day. If the press only knew the truth. Of course, I'm not breathing a word to anyone. One slip in these circles and a couple can kiss multi-million dollar careers good-bye. I have a stiff upper lip and the truth is, I'm somewhat amused. Somehow our private lives have gone unnoticed.
If the public knew more about our private lives, and our intimate arrangement today, the name-calling would gain some momentum. Tonight, at least for the moment, Corby Teller--my husband--is Sports and Entertainment World's Man of the Year.
The silent toast in my direction is symbolic. We've made it. We've arrived. We are the Tellers. The champagne spilled will go unnoticed but my very public affair never will. Because Corby Teller is Corby Teller, our threesome will never leak to the public, even if a reporter suspects it. Corby is flawless even with slight imperfections. People love him enough to look the other way.
Corby's beautiful green eyes carry me to the edge of escape and then lock me into a wager of sorts. Down deep, he knows he deserves everything he's receiving and at the same time, nothing at all. At least, not on this magnitude, most of those voting on Man of the Year might agree.
My name is Cassie Teller. My story is one few will ever believe, but most would move closer just to listen.
* * * *
"You looked stunning tonight." Corby glanced at me for a second, his hand caressed my cheek before he stared back at the road winding out in front of us.
"Thank you." I studied him, tried to see him through the world's eyes and view him, at least for now, as the man deserving of the title and recognition he earned.
Several men received nominations but ultimately Corby won and most agreed he secured the Sports and Entertainment World's Man of the Year award on all five counts--integrity, great looks, athletic ability, philanthropy, and a family man--the whole package, the whole man.
I recognized the Corby Teller everyone in sports and entertainment wanted to see. He deserved such notoriety. I loved who he was in the public eye. In fact, while I helped him become a far cry from the man described at the awards banquet, I adored and craved the man I knew behind closed doors just as much.
The super-star quarterback of the Dallas Rascals kept a few dirty little secrets. If the press ever found out, they'd turn our lives upside down and have a true field day out of what they discovered. I didn't care, not really. In a world full of phonies and social pimping, irony reared its ugly face and its favor. The spilled champagne when we locked eyes signified a bit of retaliation more or less.
It proved imperfection existed, even in the lives of those finely tuned to excellence. Those who want to find supremacy in others fail to see what is obvious sometimes. In this case, they only had to look.
"What are you smiling about?" I asked him.
"The nonsense of all this." He sighed as he pulled his corvette through the back gates of our Dallas property. Pulling into the six-car garage, he moved the gear shift into park position and killed the engine. "Doesn't any of this ever strike you as funny?"
"All the time."
Corby leaned over the steering wheel. "Yeah. I've been called the world's most eligible bachelor. I wore the title like a badge of honor and you suffered for it when you came into my life. Prejudices followed. People hated. Resentment reigned. You became public enemy number one the second you ran back to a man I pulled you from in the first place. Some Man of the Year I am."
"Corby, stop it. You have nothing to feel bad about here, no reason to feel guilty." I shot him a quick wink. "Besides, I loved you both and wanted you both. It worked out."
"Yeah and I just received an award for being an honorable man. Damn. That's sweet, huh?"
Corby occasionally had a problem with the sharing concept. For the most part it worked. Sometimes, we all questioned it. Corby more so than me or Steve, but he had the most to lose if our threesome ever made the news at eleven.
"You are an honorable man." I reached over and touched his cheek. "Besides, I never left Steve behind in the first place, and Corby, I wouldn't have left you either if the roles were reversed. So you're off the hook."
"Is that right?"
"Yes, that's right." I assured him.
"You're naughty all on your own?"
"Absolutely." I reached over and patted his thigh before I stepped out of the car.
He met me at the garage door and slid his arm around my waist before we walked into the main house. At six foot-three, Corby towered over my frame. His dimples were etched into smooth tan skin and his wavy black hair looked soft, wind-blown, and always sexy.
"I love you," I said as we stepped into the kitchen.
"Right backatcha, lady." His hands immediately cupped my ass and he pressed against me with a reminder of how much. By the length of his erection, it was a lot tonight.
I heard voices as we rounded the corner toward the family room and to my surprise, found Mark and Steve sprawled out on the leather sofas there. Since Mark and Steve rarely spent time together, it was unexpected and a pleasant surprise.
"Well lookie here," I drawled with a forced southern twang. I bent down and kissed Steve on the cheek before tapping Mark on the head. "Bonding tonight?"
"You wish," Steve hissed. He shifted his weight and then made room for me to sit beside him. I sat down parallel to his dick with my backside pressing against him. I'm not a dumb blonde, and the erection I found behind me didn't come as a surprise.
Mark sat up and watched Corby thoughtfully. Best friends, Mark and Corby played on the same Professional Football Confederacy team, the Dallas Rascals. He was the only one who knew about the bizarre relationship I shared with Steve and Corby.
Steve draped a protective arm over my waist and pulled me against him. "Did you have a good time tonight?" He kissed the nape of my neck sending darts of electricity through my body. It felt like he instructed each bolt on where to strike in order to gain the desired affect. He hit the bulls-eye. It worked well. My nipples perked to attention and my womb clenched in response. "I know you were the prettiest woman there."
"Are you kidding?" The emerald glimmered in Corby's eyes and pride, maybe even a little lust, poured through them. "If the dress scooped a little lower at the top and the slit up her hip gave just an inch closer to her sweet little ass, we'd have lots of company tonight." Instinctively, his hand swiped over the front of his tailored slacks. "Every man in the room knew she was there."
Mark licked his lips and his gaze immediately fell to my cleavage. "You don't say?" Sarcasm oozed.
It wasn't a hidden fact, we found one another attractive but so far, Corby and Steve adamantly refused sharing me with anyone else. Double the trouble, our relationship and our bed seemed pretty full. At least, according to the men populating it.
Anything but convinced, I watched Mark and noticed as his mouth twitched into his normal expression--the one he had whenever he gave me his best, 'this alpha-male wants to do you' look. Those, I saw often.
"We watched the toast, there buddy." Mark tossed the remote control on the coffee table and kicked his feet up so his long, muscular legs stretched in front of him. "Missed your mouth, didn't you?"
"Was it noticeable?" I asked.
"Not really, he played it off pretty good. Men of the Year pride themselves on how to make it through sticky situations and look good in the process." He chuckled, waggled his eyebrows and licked those kissable lips again.
"You should know." Corby tousled my hair as he passed by me. He sat down next to Mark before he finished, "since you wore the title last year."
Mark grunted, "No offense buddy, but I'm starting to think that magazine only wants the worst of our kind. Remember, I won last year right when my life fell apart."
I remembered well. The year was pure hell for Mark. I searched his face for an expression of sorrow. None existed there. Only an easy smile lingered along with acceptance in his tone. I never noticed it before. When he lived with his estranged wife, the reason his life turned upside down in front of too many cameras, sadness and bitterness often came through in every syllable he spoke. Not now. Tonight he looked and sounded content.
"Yeah, my wife was fucking anything with a hard cock--from rubber toy men to those who might as well have been sporting one of those generic cocks. Did she even have an age preference?" Mark asked me with a hint of humor in his voice. "Or a limit to the number of rides she allowed per day?"
"I don't know Mark. Suzy never told me her secrets." It was true. We were friends but she guarded the skeletons in her closet like Fort Knox. Perhaps because she needed a walk-in storage unit to house them.
Some of her men, we later discovered, already had one toe in the graveyard. The age thing really irked Mark. He tried to give Suzy everything and how did she repay him? She went to bed with rich eighty-something year old men. Okay, so eighty pushed it, seventy-five year old men with a dirty mind and soft cock. No wonder Mark left.
Steve released a guttural growl when he turned his body to curl around mine. Tugging a patchwork quilt from the foot of the sofa, he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me against his chest. He ran his hand through my hair as his blue eyes mockingly held mine in a seductive, meaningful gaze.
He was horny. Corby was horny. The night promised great things, wonderful events. Of course they wanted our company to make off like a bandit.
"So this is how uh...this thing you three have works then?" Mark nodded in our direction. Steve's palm smoothed over my hip and thigh. I knocked his hand back causing the blanket covering us to move too much.
"Jealous?" I asked.
"You damn well know it." Lust lingered in his eyes.
"Quit teasing him, Cass." Steve swatted my ass and I whined.
Mark winked. "What goes on here stays here but damn if you boys don't know how to make a man desire a woman."
Corby narrowed his glare with one goal in mind. He wanted me to behave in the worst way. Corby did not want Mark in our bed, at all. It wasn't open for discussion and I brought it up often.
Mark relaxed his neck against the sofa. When he stretched, he made a woman stand up and pay attention. All right, so I wasn't exactly on my feet, but I was most definitely eye-level to one tight looking package.
The bulge between Mark's legs was a damn-right beautiful sight but I tried to avoid staring. It didn't happen without a lot of effort. At least I had distractions. My blonde hair, blue-eyed surfer boy rubbed all over me and with a few more strokes and pats, I might ask Mark to come back later, or tomorrow. Maybe never, though doubtful.
Corby released a loud frustrated sigh and this time, he nudged his friend. "Don't let the door invite you to use it now," he said with a wide grin.
"Sexual frustration must be a common thing around here," Mark whispered. No, it sounded out more like a grunt.
"You think so?" Steve kissed the top of my head and slid his hand up my inner thigh. "Damn," he breathed into my ear as he slipped one finger right into my pussy.
I swallowed tightly. "Watch the hands." I turned and whispered into his neck. I never quite understood Steve and Corby. One or both of them always had to touch me, often intimately, in front of Mark. Sure, they kept me well covered in most cases either by their manly bodies or a quilt but Mark wasn't stupid. The movement under the material typically gave a man a pretty good idea of what went on underneath the blankets.
"The hands, Steve," I snapped out over my shoulder again.
"Yeah, the fingers too. Those can be a bitch, man." Mark stood up realizing when it was time to go. "I meant to stick around for a bit, have a few drinks but I know when I'm not wanted."
"Oh, you're wanted." I reminded him of my own separate goals. I fully intended to have Mark one way or the other. The circle, the one I created, wasn't going to feel complete until Steve and Corby caved inward, and allowed him to join us. He practically lived there anyway. I simply didn't understand why they refused to give the man a break.
"Hear that, Teller?" He slapped Corby's back, "I'm wanted. I can stay the night if I'm invited."
"Get out of here and go home to a cold shower. We have to hit the field early tomorrow," Corby said.
"Yeah, and I'd love to walk out there rather than limp. Blue balls present a few problems."
I pressed my ass against Steve's rising cock and felt the heat of his erection against my bare ass. After all, I seldom wore panties around these guys. It defeated the purpose, most of the time since when I did wear them, the guys ripped them from my body for easier access. .
"Blue balls are a problem, huh?" I stared at the gems in question.
"Corby and Steve wouldn't know anything about those." Mark locked eyes with me and a plan was suddenly set in motion. Mark didn't realize it but Corby caught on fast. He should have known this day was coming. In fact, after everything Corby and I lived through, he should have seen the drama unfolding twenty miles away.
"Well Mark, most of the time, I'd agree with you." I stretched my arms over my head and my breasts swelled against the thin black material. All eyes were definitely on my nipples. They were hard, round, pointed, aching. Damn it all. I wasn't going to let one man help out with the obvious. I knew how to keep myself entertained, especially when I went to bed alone which was the immediate plan, no thanks to Mark.
"Shew, okay, I'm going home and soaking in ice. Thanks, Cass. I really owe ya."
My feet hit the floor and I walked across the room, careful to sway as much as provocatively possible. "Oh, why don't you stick around, Mark. These two do not have better plans. In fact, since you've had to suffer through blue balls while watching your friends grope me, I think it's only fair they understand the concept. Don't you?"
Corby set his jaw and glared at Mark. "Don't you say a damn word."
"Not one," Steve agreed.
"Cassie, I think you're on to something." Mark hummed with amusement.
I cocked my hip and stood in the doorframe with an inviting call I understood would go unanswered, at least for the night. "Oh darling, I know I'm on to something. You know why?"
They all waited. Corby looked like he'd choked on his Man of the Year award and Steve's upper lip curled in a silent protest. Mark's wicked smile appeared edible. I wanted to know the taste of it but didn't dare make the move. I'd received fair warning. Mark was off-limits.
"Why?" Mark finally goaded for an answer.
"Because these two," I kept a tight fist and wiggled my forefinger and middle finger at Steve and Corby before I continued, "Aren't coming back to my bed without you." I flashed them a confident smile and then added an oath to make believers out of them.
"And that is a solemn promise, boys." I blew them a kiss and headed straight for bed.
* * * *