Yet,youknowwhatIsecretlycrave?Thechancetochallengethatsametherapist.Myfavoritemasseuse,Britney,is the sister of a teammate, and the daughter of the man who tolerated me squatting in his house for the better part of my childhood She has this uncanny knack for unraveling my knots while concealing her emotions, turning it into a peculiarly delightfuldanceoftormentandpleasure.
Afleeting,nearlyannoyedexpressionflitsacrossherheart-shapedfaceasshelooksatme.Thenhereyesshiftelsewhere. I can’t help but sport a smug grin She doesn’t exactly savor the idea of being stuck with me as her client, and that’s preciselywhyIinsistonhavingher.
Withavoicethat’salwaysjustawhisperawayfrommyear,requiringmyfullattentiontocatchherwords,Britneyexcels at blending into the shadows. It’s one of the reasons I relish her touch. I get to push her buttons until she finally snaps in irritation.
Ourlittlegameneverseemstoloseitsallure.
She gracefullynavigates around me, reachingfor a bottle ofoil ona nearbyshelf. “Youhave time for a massage?” She spreadssomeliquidonmyupperleg,pausingtolookatmewithherfrostyblueeyes “Don’tyouhaveafiretoputout?”
"I know this might be hard for youto remember, Brit, but hockeyis played onice." I grinat myownwords. Britney's brotherisintheleagueandherfatherisateammanager.Implyingthatshedoesn'tknowwhatshe'stalkingaboutwillforsure getunderherskin.
It’s mildly infuriating, but then again, this is not the first time a self-proclaimed ex would go on social media to let everyoneknowhowheartlessIwasfordumpingthem “Wewerenotdating.”
“Sheleftherjoballbyherself,”Iinsist.“SheknewIwasn’tgoingtohaveathingwithanicegirl.AndeventhoughItold her that it’s crazyofher to evenconsider quitting, she decided to hear onlya part ofwhat Iwas tellingher. Did youever considerthatshewasjustsickofthegigandwaslookingforanexcuse?Shewasn’tthatgoodatitinthefirstplace”
Butmydamned dickdisagrees, gettingharder ather softfingers workingoutthe tensioninmyneck Her scentfills my nostrils, and whenshe moves right behind me, the hard muscles onmybackare pressed against her tits, and I canalmost certainlyfeelhernipplesthroughthebrashe’swearing... Oh,fuck Iwanther.
She’sstaringrightatme.Atit.Tworosyblotchesarestaininghercheeks,andhermoistlipsareslightlypartedinsurprise. But more thanthat, I notice the lookinher eyes. It’s a lookI’ve seenhundreds of times before, and one I have no trouble interpreting.
And while I’m not completely opposed to that, I’m aware that a lot of lines have been crossed today. Most of them unintentionally,andIcan’taffordtocrossonemore
So,IflashasmileatherasIwrapmyselfup.
“You’rewelcome”IchucklebeforeIslipoutoftheroom
CHAPTER 2
BRITNEY
Okay,he’shot.
Veryhot Basicallya Greekgod And for the briefest moment, whenIsaw himstandingthere, naked and erect, I wantedhim.
Until I remembered that the sinewy, powerful body I was lusting after belonged to Alex Steinman. The bane of my existence
Whenwe were kids, Alexwas a constantpresence inour lives. He had nowhere else to turn. Itmighthave made things easierifhehadshowneventheslightestinclinationtobekindtome However,allIcanrecallfromthoseyearsarememories ofAlexandBlakeconstantlyconspiringagainstme.
ItwasasthoughAlexreveledinhisroleasthetormentor,relishingeveryopportunitytomakemylifemoredifficult.Our interactions were marked bya palpable tension, anunspokenrivalrythat simmered beneaththe surface Icouldn’t help but resenthimforbecomingapartofmyshatteredworld,evenifhehadexperiencedhisshareofhardship.
Noteventhe lightdancingover the indents ofhis muscles and thatgorgeous, perfectcockcould stop me fromdespising him.AndthoughI’dletmyguarddownforasecond,nothingwasgoingtochange.
Hockey is a different sport than football or basketball. But they all have something in common: players who are selfinvolveddouchebags AndwhileIcantolerate albeitbarely mostofthePhiladelphiaFlyers,AlexSteinmanirritatesmeon awholedifferentlevel.ItdoesnothelpthatI’veknownhimforsuchalongtimeandhavehadtoobservehisegogrowalong withhishockeyskills Girlsconstantlytripoverthemselvestocatchhisattention Istillcan’ttellwhy Okay,that’salie.Iclearlyseewhynow.Butstill. “Brit?”
Mydadsqueezesmyshoulderbrieflybeforehegoesaroundthedeskanddumpshimselfonhischair.Thelinesetchedon hisfacehavedeepenedovertime,hishairlinehasreceded,andpuffyeyebagshavesettledunderhiseyespermanently Butone thingtheyearshavenottakenfromhimishisloveforhockey.Hehaddecidedhischildrenwouldplayitlongbeforewewere born Blakewasaboutfivewhenmydadstartedspendingmoneyonticketsandtakinghimtoallthegamesinthestate.Andonce Alexappearedinourlives,hesimplywentalongforthepracticesandthegames Heendeduphavinganinnatetalentforthe sport.Heowesmostofhissuccesstomyfather.
While Blake started enjoying football at some point, my dad was relentless. He talked about hockey all day long, convincingBlakethatfootballwasnothingbutmalarkey,whilehockeywasthesmarter,betterchoice Andoneday,Blakegave inanddecidedhelikedtheicebetterafterall.
Now,they’rebothprofessionalplayers,prettygoodonesatthat Andasforme Ibitemybottomlip.Idon’tthinkmydadknewwhattodowithmefromthemomentIwasborn.Hewascluelessastohow totalktome,actaroundme,orraiseme,awareIwouldneverbeabletolivehisdream “Didn’texpectyoutobedonesosoonwithwork,”hesays.“Didsomethinghappen?” Goosebumps pebble onmyarms as the image ofAlexstandingnakedinfrontofme flashes throughmyhead.“No,buta
Buthe never uses our dead mother unless he really, reallywants us to do something And italways works Imean, why wouldn’tit?ShediedshortlyaftergivingbirthtomeandfeelingguiltywasingrainedintomyDNA. Heneedsmetocometothatpartyforsomereason.Iintendtofindoutwhy.
Thegoody-two-shoesactfirststartedasaside-effectofcravingmydad’saffectionandlisteningtohispatriarchal,albeit kind, advice on how women should behave For a long time, I thought that was all I was supposed to be Good, nun-like Britney. Until Itransferred frommycommunitycollege inPhillyand wentonto Rutgers for mydegree inmassage therapy. Duringthosetwoyearsawayfromhome,Ifinallycameintomyself
ButIambackinPhillynow.Iamnolonger good ol’Brit,thoughIstillappreciatemyfauximagethatprovidedmewitha
cover.IlikebeingonthesidelinesofaworldIdon’tenjoy,nothavingtotalktomenIcanbarelystandandflyingunder my dad’sradarwhileIsaveupformydreamtoownandrunaspainacityfarawayfromhere.
“Yes,”mydadcontinues,soundingeager.“Itcan’tbejustanygirlthough.Aresponsibleone,someonewhohecanfallin lovewith Whowouldimprovehimandmakehimlookgood Make you lookgood”
“Yes, has to be a woman who has traditional values, you know? One who would runthe home and ground Theo” He pauses,awell-plannedbeat.“Likemywife,forinstance.ShewasthebestwomanI’veevermet.”
There’s movement behind the door, and I scramble away from it, not caring if more people notice my haphazard movements.AmillionthoughtsrunthroughmyheadasIpushthroughtheblurofpeopleinthehallandoutsideintothefreshair. Idownthechampagneinonegulp,instantlywishingforashotofbrandy MyfatherwantsmetomarryTheodoreFurman.Thearrogant,spoiled man-child. He’sbeenplanningitoutformonths Maybeevenyears He’draisedmetobethatkindofgirl,he’dsaid Thekindthatsitsaroundsilentlywearingheavydiamondswhileherhusbandmakesafoolofhimselforbangsthenanny. ThekindI’djustexpressedpityfor.Thekindthatmygood-girlimagewouldperfectlyblendwith. Awaveofnausearuns throughme,butIclampmylips shut,notwantingtothrow uponthesteps oftheFurmans’lavish mansion.
He had planned to hand me to someone like the Furmans all along. He had cultivated me into the docile, good girl who cravedhisvalidationsomuchthatshewoulddoanythingtoremaininhisgoodgraces.
This is now the thirdweekofher talkingshitaboutme The firsttwo,she releaseda series ofthreads aboutme beinga player.Thesecondweek,thestoryhadgainedmildmediatraction.
Tannerhasthedecencytolookembarrassed “Whileyouwereatpractice,your um ex ”
“She’snotmyex,”Ispitthroughgrittedteeth.
“Whatever,” Tanner says witha wave ofhis hand “She putoutsome tweets thattalked aboutyoudoingdrugs withher before yougot downto business. Claimed youhad erectile dysfunction, and youneeded hard drugs to perform. The Shade Roompickeditup,and ”
Myfists are tremblingwithanger. Idon’tknow whatlie is more outrageous: the one thatthreatens mycareer or the one aboutmysexualperformance.
“YouknowI’mclean,”IspitatTanner “WhythehelldoIneedadrugtest?Wegettestedeveryothermonth” “Consideritaprecaution.”He’snottheleastbitsympathetic.“Everyoneouttherenowthinksyou’reacasualcokeuser.It would look irresponsible if we didn’t check Our first game of the season is coming up in a few weeks, and Furman has stretched himselfthintryingto getthis womanto backoff. Ifshe keeps throwingrandomdrugaccusations atyou, you’ll be benchedfortherestoftheseason”
Iquelltheurgetoslammyfistthroughthenearestwall.“Youhavegottobekidding.” “Unfortunately,not,”Tannersays,deadpan.“Itwasall well andgoodwhenall shewasdoingwasaccusingyouofbeing
Furious,Isnatchthe jar outofhis hand Ittakes abouttwenty-five minutes tosubmitthe sample andbe declaredclean I stormbacktothechangingrooms,slightlymollifiedwhenIseethattheonlypersonthat’sstillaroundisBlake.
“Sorry,dude,”Blakesays,hisamusementevidentlygrowing.“You’vegotabaddatingrep.Madeiteasyforher.” “TellmesomethingIdon’tknow.”ThelastthingIneedistoberemindedofthefactthatJanicewasaboutthefifth“ex”of mine who was pullingthis stunt Two years ago, I’d evenbeennamed bysome shoddymagazine as the most promiscuous hockeyplayer.
Every trace of a smile vanishes off Blake’s face. “What? They’re thinking of benching you? I didn’t think it was that serious.”
Myheadbuzzeswithrage,andIdon’twanttokeepsnappingatwhatappearstobemyonlyfriendleft “Youknow,” he says,soundingthoughtful,“Iknow itwouldbe futile tosue her,butthere are several other ways totake careofthiskindof situation”
“Yeah,Iwish” Blake had notcome into himself,looks or height-wise,until he was well pastnineteen So,he had been almostasoverlookedashissisterwhenshejoinedusattheschooltwoyearslater.
“She eventually started dating Tommy,” I finish, remembering that aspect of the story After the rumor broke, Pamhad disappeared for a few weeks. She came back swinging, dating the nerdiest person in our class. Tommy was the perfect boyfriend. He delivered flowers everymorningand asked her outto prominthe grandestwaypossible. Gradually, people stoppedmakingfunofPamandstartedenvyingher Ieventhoughtthattherewas nowaytheherpes storycouldbetrue Ifit were,Tommy,whohadthestrictestparentsknowntomankind,wouldneverhavedatedher.
“Itwon’tbe as bad,” he says. “Itcould be pretend. PRrelationships happenall the time. You’ve justgotto sell itlong enoughfornoonetocareaboutJaniceanymore”
It’s notsurprisingthathe hasn’t.Myfather is skilledatgettingpeople todowhathe wants.He evenmanagedtomake a shrewd billionaire like AndyFurmandance to his fiddle And everyseasoned manipulator knows that most of the workis patience,waitingfortherighttime,andthenpouncingwhenthetideturnedyourway.
“Noreason,”Ideflect.Blakeiseasilymyfavoritehumanintheworld,andtheonlyoneIshrugoffmymaskfor,atleast everyonce ina while ThoughI’mcertainhe wouldn’tbe toohappyifhe heardthatthe crowdgivinghis bestfrienda hard timehadamusedme.
Did that jerkactuallysend mybrother to askme to give hima massage, after what happened the last time? What is he expecting?ThatImightlethimgoalittlefartherthistime?
Alex’ssweatyhairisplasteredtohisforehead Nowthathe’sremovedhishelmet,I’malmostfrightenedbytheunbridled rage sparkling in his eyes. He’s sculpted perfection, the sight of himcausing a steady pulse between my thighs. He’s both terrifyingandswoonworthy
EventhoughIknow he’s nottalkingaboutsex, myfemininityis clenching, beatinglike a heart. His touch, while a little inappropriate,isnotcompletelysensual Imean,Blakehasheldmelikethismorethanafewtimeswhenweweredancing He’snotsayingthatheneedsmephysically.
Ireallyneedtogetlaid Myreactiontohimisaclearindicatorofwhathappenswhenyougowithoutamanfortoolong Hebendshisheadovermine,andwithoutthinking,Ianglemyfacetohis.Hemovescloser,hislipsamereinchfrommine. Is he going to kiss me?
I squeeze myeyes shut, tryingto hold onto animage of mydad walkinginonus. It doesn’t work. Not whenI’malso wonderingwhatitwouldfeellikeifAlex’sfingersslippedlower.
“Ineed you,” he grinds, and Iopenmyeyes to lookathis perfect, angular face, “to pretend to be myfake girlfriend At least,untilallofthisblowsover.”
Alex is staring at me with remorseless eyes that still burn for me. “Blake’s idea,” he says, as though that explains everything. “The press keeps pickingonme, and Janice seems to be nowhere near done. IfIgetsomeone withyour kind of imagetodateme,then ”
“Myimage?”Icutin.
“You know,” he says, with a shrug of his broad shoulders “Good girl, conservative Blake thinks it would be nice if someonelikeyouwentoutwithmeforthecameras.Toforgetthestenchofthelastfewweeks.”
He’d also had the audacityto thinkI’d do hima favor byloaninghimmyself or rather, the versionof myselfthat I’d tirelesslybuiltovertwodecades andthatIwouldbereadytokeepupthatimageforhiminfrontofthecameras,fornothing inreturn.
Impulsively, I’maboutto tell himto go fuckhimself Butthen, Irestrainmyself Idon’tcurse, atleast, as far as anyone knows.Iholdbackthestormofrageandchannelitintothemostprofessional,innocentsmileIcanmuster.
I’dbeenwaitingawhileforthisinvitation.FromthemomentIheardthroughthePhillyFlyersgrapevinethatAndy Furmanwas throwinga huge celebrationfor his sixty-fifthbirthdayparty, Iknew mydad would askme to accompanyhim. Eventhoughit’simpossibletoproveit,Iknowhe’sbeenworkinghardattryingtoconvinceAndythatI’mthewomanforhis son.
LATER THAT NIGHT,I’mclothedinasleeveless,satinblackdress,standingattheentranceofthesamehall Mycurlyblondhair isstilltuckedinthesameboringbun,andmyfaceisbareofmakeup.Still,IgetmoreglancesthanI’devergottenasIstride intothehall,myarmtuckedaroundmydad’s
“Excuseme,”Isay,notwaitingforananswer Turningaround,ImarchawayfromthemasfarasIcan,feelingsicktomy stomach. My dad’s harried apologies echo behind me, his large footsteps stumbling closer. Finally, he rushes past me and blocksmyway
“Well, there mightbe some guys around here who are interested inyou, Brit,” he says. “Younever know. Ineed to see Andynow,butI’llbebacktointroduceyoutosomeofthem”
Aloudcacklinginterruptsmytrainofthought,andIlookwildlyaround Itdoesn’teventakethreesecondstospotthem Two shadows in the dark beside the carefully pruned rosebush on the left side of the Furmans’estate. One male, one female.
EspeciallyifIuseAlex’s owntricks againsthim.IfIseduce him this time infrontofthe cameras anda risqué photo landsonAndyFurman’sdesk...
I’mpracticallygiddywithglee whenImarchdownthe porchsteps and make mywayover to the grinningcouple They bothspotmeatthesametime,andalazysmileformsonAlex’sfaceasecondlater.
I cockmyhead to one side, noticingfor the first time that her outfit is not the onlythingdifferent about her today. She soundssureofherselfandassertive.Likearegularadult,insteadofthecowering,low-voicedgirlI’vealwaysknown. Andshe’sagreeingtomyproposal.
Thatprimal, childishurge thatrears its head onlywhenBritis around me stirs up again. “Well, ifyouwantsome other groundrules,here’sone You’renotallowedtofallinlovewithme”
I don’t even care enough to ask her about the sudden change in her voice. Not now, anyway. Not when I have a rare opportunitytobealonewithher.
When I step up behind her, we’re mere inches away fromeach other. My hand cradles her neck, her scent ticking my nostrils
“There’s no one around, Brit,” Imutter, bendingso myhead is angled directlyabove her ears. “And youdon’t need to pretendtohearsomeonesoyoudon’thavetoadmityou’reattractedtome AllIaskisthatyoumanagetokeepitinyourpants forthenexttwomonths.”
And witha move thatthreatens to blow mywhole world apart, she slightlyrubs her ass againstmygroin, a motionthat says, I’ve not even touched you, but I can already feel your raging hard on. Foronce,Idon’tcarethatshe’swinning NotwhenIgettoclaimher Wordlessly,Icupbothsidesofherass.Ipushmyselfintoher,lettingmystrainingerectiongrindagainsther. “Maybeyou’reright,”Imutter.
“Alex,” she mutters. I feel her fingers slipping into the tiny space between our bodies, reaching for me. She feels my throbbingdickthroughthefabricofmypants
Only,this time,I’mnotangryshe leftme highanddry I’mthrilledbythe factthatshe finallyshowedme how muchshe wantsme.
It’sironicthatIwantedBritneyasafakegirlfriendbecauseIwascertainshewasasinnocentasthefacesheportraystothe world Butshe’d literallyturned me onwithouteventouchingme or sayinganything She’d letme dryhump her ina public place,atapartywithherfatherandbrotherinattendance.She’dknowntherightbuttonstopress,therightthingstosayanddo. Andwhenshewasdone,she’dgatheredherselfupandwalkedawaywithoutlosingtheslightesthintofcontrol Britneyisnotthebaby-faced,naivegirlshewantspeopletothinksheis.She’sthemostsensualwomanI’veevermet. Andshe’smanagedtofooleveryoneinherlifefortwenty-fouryears
BRITNEY
“Whatthehellwerethebothofyouthinking?”
AsmuchasIwouldlikenothingmorethantoturnthequestionbackovertomydadandaskwhat he wasthinking whenhedecidedTheodoreishusbandmaterial,Iforcemyselftoremainquiet.Blakeisgoingtogettheheatforthis one,anyway.
Notthathecaresmuch Iwatchasmybrotherrollshiseyes.“It’snobigdeal,really.Britneyknowsthataswell.Ifnot,shewouldn’thaveagreed to ”
Or rather, to laythe groundworkfor seducinghim. LettingAlexhave his funwithme isn’tgoingto do me muchgood if we’retuckedawayinadarkcorner No,Ineededtomakesurethatduringoneofourstormymakeoutepisodes,wearefound out,preferablybysomeonewithacamera.
“Because ” His voice softens as he keeps his gaze steady “I’mjustthinkingofyour future, sweetie Idon’twantthe rightmantocomealongwhenyou’restillplayingagamewithAlex.”
“Fine,” he finally spits after a bout of silence. He leans back in his chair, and I can see him fighting to maintain an expressionlessgaze “Doit,then ButmakesureyouletmetellFurmanmyself”
“Yeah,becauseIwasjustdyingtobetheonetotalktohim,”Blakeretorts.Hestands upandheads for thedoor without anotherword.
Istarttorise too,feelingparticularlysmugaboutwinningthis time around.I’dknownthatmydadwouldprotestagainst fakedatingAlex,butI’dalsofiguredouthewouldn’tbeabletovoicethereasonwithoutrevealinghisownschemes. AndI’dbeenright
Mygazerakesoverherbody.Shelooksdifferentfromherusualself,evenmorethanshehadattheparty.She’swearingan A-line, knee-length pink dress with slimstraps Her hair, always tucked in a modest bun ever since her teenage years, is unbound,blondcurlsuncoilingdownhershoulderslikeawaterfall.
Ifwe’re lucky, a randompasserbywill take a shotofus and upload itona social media platform. Or the photographer Furmanhiredwillleakthephotostoaninfluencer.
Beforeshecananswer,awaiter sweepsover Idismisshimafter pickingthefirstthingonthemenu Brittakesher time, andIcantelloncemorethatshe’stryingtothrowmeoffmyquestion.
Butshe’sgotnosuchluck
“Tellme,”Isayaftertheserverwalksaway,leaningbacksoIcangetaclearviewofher.“Whatpartofyouisevenreal?” There’s no hidingit now. Her entire face looks annoyed as she stares at me. “Once again, I have no idea what you’re blabberingabout”
“WhyonEarthwouldyouthinkthat?”Hervoiceissolow,Icanbarelyhearit. Agrinspreads across myface “Maybe because I’ve knownyoufor almost twentyyears and onlyjust realized there’s anotherwomanbehindthelongskirtsandthefakevoice.”
