Her Best Men

I held Kyra tightly by the arm, feeling her wrench against me as I pulled her away from Chance. I didn’t know what in the

world Ethan and Chance were about to get into but it wasn’t something that Kyra needed to witness. She was under enough pressure from us, as well as her fiancé—or whoever the hell he was now—and the last thing she needed was something else she felt responsible for.

She’d been sent on an emotional rollercoaster and it was best if she just went home to have some space.

I wanted her to be able to breathe. I didn’t want her to watch two men I knew she cared for beat each other bloody over her. She wasn’t the type of woman that took that as a compliment and I knew it would sadden and confuse her more than she already was. We walked in silence all the way up her porch, her neck trying to crane back to take in the commotion behind us.

But the moment our feet hit her porch, I cupped her face with my hands and brought her eyes to mine.

“I have a gift for you,” I said.

That seemed to catch her attention long enough for all the guys to get into the house.

“You do?” she asked.

“I do. Would it be okay if I gave it to you somewhere a bit more… private?”

She nodded before she reached out, opening her front door. I dropped my hands from her cheeks, and we stepped inside, the warmth of her home encompassing us as I shut the door. I could hear the television going with a game on, which meant Mark was downstairs, and we both snaked around her home and found him reclined back in his seat with a beer in his hand.

“Hey, Blake,” Mark said.

“Hey, Mr. Lancaster,” I said. “Enjoying the playoffs?”

“Packers are shit this year,” he said. “Rodgers is out with a broken collarbone and Hundley can’t get his act together long enough.”

“That’s what happens when you don’t train your second string,” Kyra said. “That’s all on the coach. Whatever his name is.”

“Whatever his name is? Honey, the coach for the Packers is—”

“Mike McCarthy,” she said. “I know. They don’t deserve their names when they pull stupid shit like that.”

“The Broncos aren’t looking too hot this season, either,” I said.

“That’s because they just got the shit end of the stick with their draft picks this year,” Kyra said.

“Couldn’t have said it better myself,” Mark said.

One thing about Kyra that always astounded me was how knowledgeable she was about football. It first came about when her mother died and she tried to find a way to bond with her father but, soon, she was just as obsessed as the rest of us. She’d cheer so hard for a team, the walls would shake and it was simply a joy to watch her become so passionate about something the rest of us enjoyed.

I admired that, among many other things, about her.

“I’ll come finish the game with you in a second,” Kyra said. “Blake’s gotta talk with me upstairs.”

Mark turned his face up toward Kyra before his eyes shot to me.

“Do I need my shotgun or something?” he asked, chuckling.

I put my hands up in surrender and swore I wouldn’t touch Kyra and all she did was blow a raspberry with her tongue at him.

She looked so adorable, I had to force myself not to stare.

We turned and left the room and I followed her upstairs. She took my hand and led me through the house I’d traipsed through so many other times. We found ourselves in her childhood room—a room we were all familiar with—and the moment she shut the door, I couldn’t help but feel aroused. I took deep breaths and I tried counting sheep. I tried thinking of my grandmother and I tried thinking of my brothers naked. But picturing them naked threw me back to that night and, suddenly, I could smell her scent and feel her grinding against my lap again.

Which didn’t help my situation at all.

I was alone with Kyra in her room and I could still remember the way she tasted. The way her tongue danced with mine in a sensual fury. The way she smelled, bouncing on my lap and coating me with her fluids. The way my cock swelled for her while her pussy swallowed me down time and time again.

I wanted to draw her into my arms and take her right here. I wanted to lay her out across the bed and draw her nipples between my lips. I wanted to spread her legs and taste her pussy and massage her luscious ass with the palms of my hands. But I didn’t want to rush her, so instead, I turned my attention back to the gift I had for her.