Double Team

When I realize that Noah has already left, I’m not quite sure if the exhale I let out is one of relief or disappointment.

Later, when I'm lying in bed, thoughts about Noah and Aiden rush into my head again, totally unwarranted. Obviously I'm some kind of pervert because my mind drifts to Aiden and that cocky grin he gave me as he stood in front of me, nearly naked. Then it flits to Noah and the way he smelled – raw and masculine – when he stood close to me.

I picture Noah reaching for the nape of my neck the way he did at the event, except this time, he pulls me close to him, his mouth crashing down hard on mine.

Noah's lips press against mine, his tongue finding mine urgently with no sense of hesitation. When he kisses me, I think my heart stops beating for a minute. I melt against him, lost in every sensation as he runs his hands through my hair, sending goose bumps across my skin.

Then, as quickly as it started, he stops. Breathless, I look at him questioningly, but not for too long before Aiden is standing there taking my hand and pulling me toward him. I crash against Aiden's bare muscular chest, glancing at Noah for his reaction, but instead of being upset, Noah just nods. "Kiss him," he tells me.

I do. When Aiden's lips touch mine, I kiss him back, my body melting against his as his hands roam the length of my back to my hips, finding the edges of my panties and sliding them down my thighs before I can even protest.

As if I want to protest.

My heart thumps wildly in my chest as I slide my fingers between my legs, rolling them in circles over my clit. One hand stays on my breast as I give in to lustful thoughts about the two men. It's a ridiculous, completely absurd, totally ludicrous fantasy that I've never had before.

Except that every part of my body is on edge right now, ignited by electricity that runs through me at the mere thought of being with Noah and Aiden at the same time.

Noah slides to his knees, yanking my panties to my ankles as he kneels on the floor, then tossing them to the side. Before I can register what's happening, Aiden is behind me, the warmth of his chest against my back, his hardness pressing against my ass cheek as his hands run over my arms, then down to my breasts. Noah's mouth envelops me, his tongue finding its destination between my legs where he licks and sucks my clit like he’s an expert in the act.

I close my eyes, relishing the sensation of Aiden's breath on my neck and his tongue flickering over my earlobe before he finds the sensitive spot on the size of my neck that makes me go crazy. I hear someone moan loudly far too loudly to be appropriate, and it takes me a minute to realize that it's me. I'm far too turned on to be embarrassed, though, considering what Noah is doing with his fingers.

I moan at the sensation of his fingers inside me, stroking me, his fingertips pressing against that spot in me that makes my toes curl. Their hands seem to be everywhere – Aiden's hands on my breasts, my nipples coming to attention as he pinches them; Noah's cupping my ass, pulling me against his face as his tongue caresses my clit.

I thrust my fingers inside my slick pussy, imagining that it's Noah's fingers inside me. When I palm my breast, my fingers squeezing my nipple, I picture Aiden's fingers there. I'm so wet, so needy, so on the verge of coming at the thought of both men wanting me, touching me – fucking me - that I hear myself moan aloud in the stillness of my bedroom.

"You like this, don't you?" Aiden asks. "I knew you were filthy the moment I saw you."

I groan my response, unable to articulate any words right now.

"When I told you I wanted to throw you over my shoulder and carry you into my house and fuck your brains out, it turned you on, didn't it?" Aiden asks.

My muscles clench their response around Noah's fingers as he pulls away from my pussy, looking up with a grin. "Don't pretend otherwise, Grace," he says, “because you can't hide the way your body responds."

"Are you wet for us?" Aiden asks, his breath hot against my ear. I swear that I get wetter the second he asks the question. "Does the idea of two men fucking you turn you on?"

The moan escapes my lips before I can stop it, and Noah groans, sending vibrations between my legs. I don't think I can hold out any longer – the sensation of both men touching me is too much.

"Say it, Grace," Noah orders. "Tell us you want to feel us both inside you."

"Mm-hmm," I murmur.

"We want to hear you say it," Aiden commands, his fingers under my jaw as he tilts my head back toward him. His other hand pinches my nipple harder, sending a shock of pain through me, except that instead of hurting, it adds to the sensation. "Tell us how you want us to fuck you. Do you want Noah's cock in your mouth while I take you from behind?"

"Shit." I exhale the word, my breathing erratic as Noah pulls my clit into his mouth for emphasis. My hands go to his head, pulling him against me, demanding more of his mouth on me. I want more of his fingers inside me. Hell, I want Noah's cock inside me. Or Aiden's. Oh, God, I want both of them.

"Or do you want to ride Noah's cock, feel his mouth on your tits while I slide my dick into your tight little asshole?"

"Oh my God." I breathe the words, overwhelmed by Aiden's filthy words and by what they're both doing to me. The sensations are almost too much to take. I'm too lost, too far gone to think logically or coherently, too turned on to be self-conscious about being taken by two men.

Aiden's words trigger the image in my head – riding Noah while Aiden fucks my ass – and the prospect of being filled up by both of them at the same time sends me hurtling over the edge with the intensity of a freight train.

I fuck myself with my fingers again and again, my orgasm enveloping me so strongly that I cry out louder than I think I ever have in my life. The pleasure is white-hot and blinding, so overwhelming that when it's over, I fall back against the pillow, my chest heaving as I try to catch my breath.

It takes a few minutes before my heart rate returns to something less than near-heart-attack intensity, and I lie in bed, looking up at the ceiling and wondering what the hell has gotten into me.

I've never had a fantasy like that before, not even once. I've always been as straight-laced in the bedroom as I am outside of the bedroom, although to be fair, the men I've dated haven't exactly been sexually adventurous.

But this? Fantasizing about two completely inappropriate men I just met? Bringing myself to orgasm at the idea of them fucking me at the same time?

This goes beyond adventurous. It's just plain madness.

I tell myself that it's just a fantasy and that it means nothing. Except I'm not a hundred percent sure I mean it.

11

Aiden

"Late night?" I ask, closing the front door behind me. I was up at six and off to a cross-training session at the training center – off-season training means cross-training, which is a nice break except for when I'm feeling a little… frustrated, like I am right now. What I’d like to do is pound out a really heavy weight session, or go out to the field and run plays over and over until my mind is totally consumed by football.

I haven't been able to get the hot-ass neighbor chick out of my head, and using my hand has been no substitute for the real thing. Last night, I declined a text from a cheerleader who’s been after me for months, because I was too preoccupied with Hot Neighbor. I even hung out on the balcony, craning my head to see if I could catch a glimpse of her, but she never emerged from her house, probably because a girl like that has a boyfriend, or a string of boyfriends.

Except that she was flirting with me, that much I'm sure of.

Fuck. I can't remember the last time I was this wound up about a stupid chick. I need to just go get laid. The problem is that I don’t want to just get laid by some girl. I want Hot Neighbor.

"Not really," Noah says. He walks into the kitchen and peels two bananas, tossing them into the blender.

"You're so domestic, making me a protein shake," I note.

"Fuck you," Noah grumbles. "This is my breakfast."

"You're testy this morning."

Noah grunts a response as he unscrews the lid to the protein powder.

"Aw, did playing nice with all the rich old ladies last night put you in a bad mood?" I ask. I can't resist messing with Noah when he’s pissy because it only makes him angrier.

But instead of lashing out at me, he just ignores me and dumps four scoops of protein powder into the blender.

"Oh, I got it. You had a little thing with one of those rich old ladies and you're having a little morning-after regret? We've all been there, dude."

Noah glares at me. "I didn't screw anyone."

"Okay, that's the problem. I can pull out my phone numbers if you want. There's this girl, Audrina, who's a total tiger in the sheets. She's a little crazy, though – “

"Shut up, man. I'm not hard up. I just –"

The expression on his face clinches it for me. "You met a chick," I say, realizing what the pained look on his face means: he has a major case of blue balls. "You met a chick and didn't get in her pants."

Noah turns on the blender to drown me out. As soon as he stops it, he tells me to go fuck myself. "I didn't meet a chick. I mean, not really. I’m out a hundred grand because I groped the President's daughter, and –"

"You paid a hundred thousand dollars to feel up the President's daughter?" I ask, confused. "This was a charity auction? My mind is blown. I really need to start looking into doing more charity work."

"No, it wasn’t some kind of pervy charity auction, dickhead."

"The President has a daughter?"

Noah looks at me like I'm an idiot. Yes, the President has a daughter. Don't you ever watch the news? Do you even know who the President of the United States is?"

"Of course I know who the President is," I say. “Stop getting off-topic. You paid a hundred grand to grope an ugly chick?"

"She's not ugly."

"Obviously she is, or you wouldn’t be so upset about it. You really need to raise your standards."

"You have no idea at all who I'm talking about, do you?"

I shrug. "I don't care about politics, dude."

"What's wrong with you? Read a fucking newspaper or something, man. Stuff these politicians do affects your life, you know."

I grab an apple from the bowl of fruit on the counter and bite into it. "Doesn't affect mine. I've got a house and job security."

"Sometimes I want to slap the sense of entitlement right out of you."

"Entitlement, hah. Go for it, bro. Remember when I whooped your ass senior year of high school? I'll do it again."

Noah snorts. "I'd like to see you try."

"Not right now. I’m not going to be distracted. I want to hear about how you paid money to grope the President's daughter. Is she a hooker?"

"Yeah, Aiden. The daughter of the President of the United States is a fucking prostitute and I paid a hundred grand to bang her."

"That's reasonable. Was it good?" I ask, then stop myself. "For a hundred grand it should be. But obviously it wasn't or your attitude would be better today."

Noah gulps his protein shake before setting down the cup on the counter. He sighs loudly, the way he does when he's exasperated with me. "I – no, I didn't pay money to bang her! It’s complicated, all right?”

“Seems pretty simple to me. You felt a girl up for a hundred grand.”

“I stepped on her fucking dress, and then she fell into me with her boobs out and I was putting my hands up because someone got a photo of her but she stood up and – oh, hell, I don't know why I'm even telling you this."

"So then you paid her money? If she's the President's daughter, isn't she rich already?"

"I didn't pay her money," Noah says, exhaling dramatically. "I paid the photographer to delete the photos."

"A hundred grand." I whistle. "To delete photos of your hands on some chick's boobs."

"Not some chick. The daughter of the President of the United States."

"Photos like that would give you some bragging rights - if she's not homely, I mean," I qualify my statement. "Maybe even if she is homely. If she's the President's daughter, that means she's famous, yeah? A minor celebrity? That’s probably about the equivalent of a reality star, I think. Still, it’s some bragging rights."

"Are you finished now?" Noah asks.

"Maybe. Do you have the photos?"

"No. They're deleted."

"How do you know they're deleted?" I ask.

"I erased them from the asshole’s camera. Personally."

"Did you make sure they didn't get uploaded somewhere?" I point out.

It's obvious Noah didn't think of that by the way he glares at me. "If the guy publishes them, I’ll hunt him down.”

"Noah Jackson is going to go all mafia-style on his ass?"

"Shut up."

"So…here’s the most important question: How were the tits?" I ask.

"I'm not talking about that with you, asshole."

"You paid a hundred grand to keep her tits out of the tabloids and you're not going to tell me about them? You do have a crush on her."

"I don't have a crush on anyone," Noah protests. "I'm just not a total dick."

I was just calling you a dick. An image of the hot neighbor chick – Grace – with her hands on her hips, leaning forward just a little so I could see the top of her cleavage in her business suit, flashes through my mind. Shit, I've got to get that chick out of my head. Or… get her ass into my bed.

Instead, I bring my attention back to Noah and his little crush. "You've always aimed high, I'll give you that."

Noah rolls his eyes. "I'm not getting with Grace Sullivan. First Daughters don't get with pro football players."

Grace. I take another bite of my apple. "Huh. You know, Hot Neighbor is named Grace, too. Funny coincidence. That would be weird if we were both hooking up with chicks named Grace."

Noah gulps down the rest of his protein shake before turning to rinse the cup at the sink. "I'm not hooking up with the President’s daughter - and you're not banging my next door neighbor, do you hear me? I don't want some crazy girl egging my house because you screwed her and then dumped her."

"There was only one egging in our old neighborhood," I protest.

"No Hot Neighbor," Noah growls.

"No Hot Neighbor," I say, my tone insincere because I'm already thinking about how I can get Hot Neighbor in the sack. "I swear."

"Aiden Paul Jackson, I swear to God I will kill you!" Annie's voice echoes loudly through the house over the speaker on the phone, and I hold it away from me, not even bothering to try to hide my laughter. I know exactly why my sister is calling me.

Noah looks up from the sofa, where he's sprawled across the entire length, scrolling through something – probably some boring article on the economy - on his tablet. "I told you it was a bad idea. You were really asking for it this year."

"You knew about this, Noah?" Annie squeals. "Why did you let him?"

"Annie Banannie!" I interrupt. "Did you think I was going to let a birthday go unnoticed? What kind of a big brother would I be? Admit it. You'd be upset if I didn't do it!"

"Noah," Annie sighs exasperatedly. "Tell Aiden I'm not talking