Chapter 17

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

RIPLEY

T onight is the Sports Illustrated body image issue unveiling party. I can't wait to see Arizona and Layton's picture. I'm sure it's gorgeous. From what Arizona told me about the heat between them at the photo shoot, this picture is going to be crazy hot.

We're all getting dressed up and taking a party bus up to New York City for the big event. It's going to be a fun night celebrating our friends.

One of the team owners, Auburn Bouvier, owns a fashion house. Arizona is wearing one of his dresses, which supposedly is worth tens of thousands of dollars. It's crazy. He's also sending hair and makeup professionals. Arizona insisted that we all get pampered, not just her. She even included Gemma DePaul, so the five of us have been having a girlie afternoon filled with lots of laughs.

The makeup woman is running a few minutes late. Apparently, she also does the makeup for huge pop star, Ella Ervin, and is running a bit behind schedule getting Ella ready for her concert in Philly later tonight.

We're all in various stages of getting our hair done when Kam admits, "I hooked up with a guy who had a bit of dick jewelry last night."

Arizona asks, "A penis ring?"

Kam shakes her head. "First of all, they're called cock rings, not penis rings, and no, it was more…permanent in nature."

Arizona pinches her eyebrows together. "Cock rings can't be permanent?"

Kam looks around, seeking an answer, but everyone is silent until Gemma matter-of-factly states, "Cock rings are different from piercings. There are many different types of piercings. Many . Most names revolve around the spot on the penis that has the piercing. There's the Prince Albert that goes through the urethra and comes out the bottom of the shaft, there's the apadravya that kind of goes across the shaft, there the king's crown that goes vertically through the ridge, there's the deep shafter which is exactly as it sounds, there's the frenum which—"

Bailey holds up her hands. "Okay, okay, we get it. There are a lot of piercings. What about rings?"

Gemma answers as if she's simply rattling off a grocery list. "Again, there are a lot, but they're mostly just for sex, not more permanent like the piercings. A majority of them simply roll on and restrict blood flow, making the erection stronger and longer lasting. Some vibrate too, which is nice for us. Then you've got the metal ones that go in the urethra for urethral sounding, which is inserting objects into the urethra. That's supposed to be pleasurable for guys."

We all stare at Gemma in complete and total shock.

Naturally, Kam asks what we're all thinking. "How the hell do you know all that? "

She smiles. "I needed to know it for…work."

"Are you a hooker?"

She giggles. "Sort of. I'm an attorney, but you now know I write romance novels on the side. I use a lot of this stuff in my books."

I mumble, "I need to start reading these books." Turning to Kam, I ask, "What did the guy last night have?"

"A piercing. I don't know the fucking name. I'm not like the porn queen of the East, Gemma DePaul. It was my first time with one. It was fucking incredible though. It felt so good."

My mouth falls open. "Oh wow." I turn to the rest of the girls. "Have you guys been with any men who have dick piercings?"

Arizona and Bailey shake their heads, but Gemma gives us a small smile. I look at her wide-eyed. "When was this? When you were younger?" Gemma is about five or six years older than the rest of us and seemingly quite experienced.

Her green eyes sparkle. "Would you judge me if I told you the most recent time was this morning?"

The four of us look at each other in shock. Kam crosses her arms. "Are you telling us that Mr. Perfect Hair, doting husband and father, all-American, apple pie, Trey DePaul has a dick piercing?"

"He does," she mock shivers, "and it's incredible. Addicting. Life-altering."

Kam giggles and asks, "When did he get it? It must have hurt like a bitch."

Gemma leans back in her chair. "Let's just say that Trey is into grand romantic gestures as one of the ways he shows his love for me."

Kam scoffs. "If he put extra holes in his dick for you, I'd call that love."

We all laugh, including Gemma.

Just then, an exceedingly attractive woman with dark hair and nearly purple eyes runs in. She's dressed casually in a pink tracksuit but somehow makes it look fashionable with an equally stylish ponytail and sparkly headband. I look like a homeless man when I wear sweatpants. She looks like the company paid her to walk around in their clothing.

Out of breath, she pants, "I'm so sorry I'm late."

We all look at her, having no clue who she is. I ask, "And you are…?"

She slaps the heel of her hand on her forehead. "Sorry. Hi, I'm Bristol. I'll be doing your makeup today."

That makes sense. Her makeup is flawless. In fact, everything about her face and body is flawless.

There's a giant blond man with her who carries her large makeup trunk into the room and gently places it down for her. Who is this woman that she needs a bodyguard? Weird.

We all introduce ourselves as she unpacks her supplies and immediately starts working on Arizona's makeup. "Catch me up. What have you ladies been gossiping about?"

Kam smiles. "Dick piercings. I popped my dick-piercing cherry last night, but Gemma over here is apparently a pro." She points at Gemma who unashamedly winks.

Bristol giggles. "You guys would get along well with my friends down in Texas. That's where I live."

I ask, "Where in Texas? I lived in Houston for nearly six years."

"The Dallas area."

"Oh. I never went quite that far. What brings you all the way to Philly?"

"I used to be Ella Ervin's personal makeup artist, traveling with her all over the world. Now that I'm married with a daughter, I only travel with her for a few big shows a year. My husband had some business up here, so it worked out. I know Auburn Bouvier well. His cousin is one of my girlfriends. When he heard I'd be in town today, he asked me to help out."

"Where's your husband now?"

She motions her thumb toward the door. "He's right outside. He's the big guy that carried my stuff in."

My mouth drops. "I thought he was a bodyguard. He's huge." He must be at least six feet, eight inches.

She smirks. "That's why everyone calls him Tank. That, and because he's packing a giant cannon."

We all start laughing.

She smiles. "Not pierced or anything, but I do like to dress it up in cute hats."

"Your husband?"

"No, his dick."

We hear a deep, authoritative, gravelly voice from the hallway. "Stop telling people about that. It's private."

I whisper. "He's kind of scary."

She shakes her head. "He's nothing but a teddy bear. Maybe a bit of a tongue magician too, but a sweet little teddy bear. Big teddy bear."

The deep voice again rings out, "Bris, cut it out. I have a rep to protect."

Her shoulders shake in laughter.

They're adorable.

She looks around at all of us. "I don't even know why we're here. Are you guys models? Do you have an event tonight?"

Arizona lets out a laugh. "Umm, no. Definitely not. We're professional softball players."

Bristol's gorgeous eyes light up. "That's awesome. I played basketball in high school." She mock blows on her fingernails. "All state my senior year."

Bailey nods. "I played basketball too. I preferred it to softball, but my sister sucked at it and forced me to play softball with her."

I didn't know that.

Kam scrunches her face. "True story. I was so bad, and Bails was amazing. She popped three-pointers like Caitlin Clark. She was better than all the guys at our school too."

Bristol rubs her hands together. "Don't you love when men underestimate you because of the way you look, and then you school them by showing off your athletic prowess?" She shouts a little louder, "Right, honey?"

He shouts back, "You're a basketball queen, sweetness. She hustled my friends like a pro when we first started dating. They never saw it coming given how irresistibly sexy she is. They were busy staring at her ass while she was dribbling around them."

Bristol smiles. "Yep. He loves me for my mad basketball skills."

"I love you because you have no gag reflex."

She lifts a smug eyebrow. "True." Looking around at us, she asks, "Seriously, where are you all headed tonight?"

Arizona answers, "We have a party for Sports Illustrated —"

I interrupt, "Arizona and her boyfriend modeled for their body image issue. We're going for moral support."

Bristol gasps. "Omigod, my friend Blaire and her husband did that a few years ago." She fans herself. "It was so fucking hot."

Kam asks, "What sport does Blaire play?"

"She doesn't. She's a doctor. Her husband is Axel Broxton."

Gemma's eyes practically bug out of her head. "He's so hot." She notices our lack of familiarity with his name. "He's the best tight end in football with an ass that lives up to the name of his position. "

Bristol smiles. "She's not wrong."

We're all kind of shocked that Gemma knows this. She notices our surprise and shrugs. "I might be married to a baseball player, but I'm a football girl at heart. I can throw a ball pretty well. You ladies aren't the only athletes in the room."

Gemma DePaul is officially the most mysterious, enigmatic, unexpected woman I've ever met.

A few hours later, we're dressed and ready. Admittedly, we look amazing. Bristol is a true artist. I've never had makeup look this perfect, and I'm in the nicest dress I've ever worn. It's emerald green with a plunging neckline. I've never worn anything this revealing.

Trey texts Gemma that the boys will be pulling up in a few minutes in the party bus. We head downstairs and walk out in time to see the bus moving up the street.

Before it even comes to a complete stop, Layton jumps out and practically sprints toward Arizona, kissing her hand and whispering in her ear. She practically melts into him at whatever he just said to her. They're so in love.

Trey also gets off the bus and eye fucks the hell out of Gemma before scooping her up and joking that he's taking her around the corner for a little fun. When I look at him all I can think of is his pierced dick. I wonder if it gets caught in his zipper.

Kam winks at me and smiles. I know she's thinking the same thing.

We step onto the bus, and Quincy's eyes are immediately pinned on me. He looks gorgeous in his tuxedo. He's oozing sex right now and I hear him breathe, "Holy fuck."

QUINCY

The past week has been crazy. I caught Layton and Arizona doing things no brother should ever have to witness. After a long conversation with Arizona and days of ignoring Layton, he finally came to my place and sat down with me. He told me how strongly he feels for her. It was an impassioned speech. He's apparently completely fallen for her and sees her as his endgame. It's still a little hard for me to stomach, but I'm doing my best to let her make decisions for herself. I can only hope he doesn't break her heart. Admittedly, he's completely different with her and hasn't so much as looked at another woman, only having eyes for her.

Tonight is the Sports Illustrated reveal party. While a party to celebrate my sister and Layton being half-naked together in a magazine for millions of creepy guys to ogle isn't appealing to me, I know it's a big deal, and I'm trying to be supportive.

We're on a big party bus on the way to pick up the girls. We've all had a bit of whiskey and a fun time along the way.

The bus pulls up to Arizona and Ripley's building. We see the girls walking out and they all look stunning, but it's the redheaded temptress in a green dress that knocks the wind out of my lungs.

I've never seen her in anything like this. I have no words for how beautiful she is.

Fucking Layton sprints off the bus to slobber all over my sister, but I can't be bothered with him right now.

Ripley steps onto the bus and gives me a once-over in my tuxedo. Her neck flushes. As she passes by, she offers me a small smile. I think I curse in awe of her beauty. I can't help but stick out my fingers and discreetly brush them against hers. I catch her eyes flutter ever so subtly.

I expect her to pull her hand away, but she brushes her fingers against mine too. There's a heat between us tonight. Even more than usual.

The entire ride to New York is full of fun despite Layton having his hands all over Arizona. Their coming out party is not for the squeamish.

Why can't I be like Layton? Ripley is on the other side of the bus when I really want her on my lap like Arizona is with Layton. I want to touch her and smell her.

She makes eye contact with me, and I mouth, "You're so beautiful."

She gives me a small smile. I wish I could give her everything she deserves. I wish I was that man.

The ride up to New York City is a blur for me. My desperation to be normal mixed with my inability to do so has me on edge, but I feign a smile and join in on the laughter. It mostly consists of making fun of Cheetah. Apparently, he and Kam broke her waterbed the other night.

When we arrive, the rest of us make our way out of the bus, leaving Layton and Arizona behind to make their grand entrance.

Trey and Gemma pose for paparazzi photos together, and then the rest of us do so as a big group.

I whisper into Ripley's ear, "When we get inside, can I get a minute alone with you?"

She nods.

Everyone else heads to some sort of ballroom while Ripley and I discreetly make our way to an empty hallway .

She looks up at me through her smokey-looking, sexy eye makeup. "What do you want?"

"Just to tell you that you're magnificent. I've never seen anyone more beautiful than you are tonight."

She gives me a soft smile. "Thank you. You're very handsome too. Is…is that all you need?"

"I just couldn't let another minute go by without telling you. I might have to stand behind you all night just to hide my boner."

She giggles. "No problem."

A noise coming from around the corner breaks our concentration. I poke my head around to see an attractive older couple laughing. His hands are all over her. All over her. The woman smiles when she notices us.

I assume she's going to say something to me, but it's Ripley who has caught her attention. "Ripley St. James?"

Ripley graciously nods. "Yes."

The brunette beauty holds out her hand. "I'm Darian Knight. My daughter is Reagan Daulton. I'm such a big fan of yours."

Ripley smiles. "Thank you so much. What Reagan has created in such a short time is nothing short of a miracle."

Darian nods. "I'm so proud of her." She points to the tall, dark-haired man standing next to her. "This is my husband, Jackson. We've been to a lot of games. We're excited for the playoffs."

We all shake hands. Jackson eventually grabs Darian's hand. "We'll leave you to your conversation. Good luck to both of you in the playoffs. I need a minute of my wife's time."

He winks at me as he pulls her away with his hand on her ass .

Ripley and I smile at each other. She mumbles, "Jeez, I hope I'm still doing that at their age."

"You're more than welcome to do that tonight. With me."

She sighs as she shakes her head in exasperation. "Let's get back to the party."

A few minutes later, I'm staring at the big screen, which is now displaying the cover for the upcoming Sports Illustrated body image issue. I lean over and whisper to Layton, "It's a good thing I know about you two, because I'd certainly know now."

It's very provocative. Arizona is in lace panties and a barely there bra. Her legs are wrapped around him, and he's in his boxer briefs. He's got her pinned to the scoreboard with his head buried in her neck. She looks like she's mid-orgasm. A sight I'd prefer to have never seen.

I can't believe the cover is this explicit. Fucking hell. If every man in America wasn't already pining after my sister, they will be now.