5. Cassi

five

Cassi

M y head is pounding, and my mouth feels like I swallowed sand—not just a little bit, but the whole beach.

Water. I need some water.

I roll onto my side, keeping my eyes shut, and my stomach somersaults the movement. Okay, maybe I'll stay here for the rest of the day since moving was more painful than my thirst.

A cough breaks through my lips, burning my throat and pounding my head even more. Deciding I'm willing to risk throwing up for a glass of water and some Ibuprofen, I crack my eyes open and whip the sheets off my body when I realize I'm naked except for a tiny pair of lace panties—the expensive kind that should be worn for a lover. Unfortunately, I don't have a lover to wear them to, so I wear them for myself. It makes me feel feminine and sexy to feel the soft lace brush against my skin.

A vision of Maverick, Ace, and Dalton pops into my head, making me forget the pain for a few minutes as my imaginary lovers worship my body from head to toe.

Something nudges at my memory of stripping down to my panties for the three of them. I close my eyes again, remembering doing a sexy strip tease for Maverick, but it must have been a dream since I'm all alone in my bed. Besides, I'd never strip in front of them—I'm a professional.

Shaking off the fantasy because that's all it could be, I stretch my legs before swinging them over the side of the mattress. I keep my eyes closed since the room doesn't seem to spin as much if I keep them closed; I stand with the intent to feel my way to my bathroom when my right foot slams into something very warm and solid.

"Ouch." A masculine voice grunts.

What the hell? Did someone break into my house while I was sleeping? If so, why is he lying on the floor?

"Be quiet, Ace, or you'll wake up Cassi, " a sleepy-sounding Dalton murmurs from somewhere in my bedroom.

"Ah, too late," Maverick adds.

Maverick—Ace—Dalton, what are they doing in my bedroom?

A much clearer vision from what I'm pretty sure happened last night pops into my head, and I groan. Why are they still here? Why didn't they leave after I basically threw my drunken self at all three of them, only to be shot down three times? Even though I'm beginning to remember what their lips feel like, they must have liked kissing me—but I guess not what would have come after if we had kept going.

Oh God! I made out with all three of them last night as I begged them to all fuck me at the same time. One in each hole.

"Her eyes are still closed—maybe she's sleepwalking." Bless Dalton for always looking on the bright side. Well, my bright side—not his bright side.

Maybe I can flop back down on the bed and pretend I'm asleep, and then they'll leave, and we can pretend none of this happened.

"I don't think so. She has that adorable little crease between her eyes—the one she gets right before she says something sassy." Ugh, of course, Ace would have to ruin my plan. Who has a name like Ace anyway?

"The crease is getting deeper. Maybe she's having a bad dream—and she's one of those sleepwalkers." I could kiss Dalton for his loyalty in continuing my deception until he had to ruin it by mentioning my wrinkles.

To be fair, I only have one crease on my face, and it's the one they are debating about. It's from years of dealing with male athletes and their managers who thought that just because I'm a woman, I'm a pushover.

Fuck my life.

"I'm awake. Will someone tell me why the three of you are in my bedroom?" I scan their faces, waiting for someone to say something, but their eyes seem to be running up and down my body as they lick their lips.

Shit! I'm standing in front of them with nothing on but those damn lace panties.

This can't be happening. I reach for a blanket from my bed and wrap it tightly around my body. How embarrassing—I'm sure they're used to stick-thin model types, not my soft curves and wide hips. At least gravity hasn't caused the girls to sag. My boobs are by far my best feature.

"You got really drunk last night. Teagan and Britt wanted to stay and take care of you, but we volunteered." Dalton's cheeks are slightly pink as he explains why they are in my bedroom. We were only going to help you get into bed and then leave, but we were afraid you might get sick in the middle of the night, and we didn't want you to be alone."

My heart melts at his words until I realize they weren't concerned something would happen to Cassi, the person, but that something would happen to Cassi, the sports agent. I steel my spine and lift my chin. "I'm fine. You can go now." I say in my best negotiating voice—the one I use on the most difficult of lawyers whose clients think they can lowball me because I'm a woman in a male-dominated world. Until they realize I'm Cassi "Freaking" Masterson, and I back down from no one.

"Are you sure? Your skin still looks a little green." Ace stands and rushes to my bedside table. "Here, " he says, picking up a bottle of water and a couple of pills, which, by the look of them, are ibuprofen, and handing them to me.

"Um, thanks." I take the offered items from his hands.

When was the last time someone cared about my well-being?

I'm the agent. I'm the one who does all the work while my clients sit back and reap the rewards. That has to be their intention, to keep me alive long enough for them to sign an iron-clad multimillion-dollar contract as I've done for all my clients.

I open my mouth, tip my head back, and throw the pills inside, swallowing them down with a huge gulp of water. "Thanks." My voice comes out breathy from taking such a large drink of water. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to use the bathroom. I'm sure you can show yourselves out." I don't wait for them to say anything as I grab my phone from the bedside table and stride into the bathroom like I don't have a care in the world. When inside, I'm freaking out.

I shut the door harder than intended, but that's the least of my concerns. I need to talk to someone about what happened. Even though everything is still a little fuzzy, I might be able to piece it all together.

My first instinct was to call one of my friends who was at the party last night, but then I changed my mind. I need a neutral party who can objectively help me process everything that may or may not have happened last night.

A vision of me kissing each one of them pops into my head. It's more vivid than the last image. If I concentrate hard enough, maybe I can recall what they said.

When I make love to you, it will be when you're sober, so you'll remember all nine inches of me plunging into your tight, wet hole.

I gasp at the words I remember Maverick whispering in my ear when I was basically grinding on his lap.

Their voices carry into the bathroom. I place my ear against the door to try and hear what they are saying, but I only catch a few words here and there.

"Tell someone they're green."

"Passed out."

"Date."

My head begins to spin at the half of a conversation I'm hearing. Abandoning the door, I head over to the toilet and sit down on the lid, intending to call Heidi, the one person who I hope won't judge my behavior.

She picks up on the fourth ring, "Hey, Cassi. What's up?" She whispers into the phone.

"Why are you whispering?" I whisper back in case my overnight guests are still in my bedroom.

"I'm not whispering—you're the one whispering." She whispers back.

My head hurts too bad to continue this argument. "I'm whispering because Maverick, Ace, and Dalton spent the night, and they are still in my bedroom," I think. I haven't heard their voices in a while.

"OMG!" She shout-whispers into the phone, "You had sex with three guys last night!"

"Um, I'm not sure. I mean, I'm pretty sure we didn't have sex last night." And by pretty sure, I mean I'm almost positive we didn't have sex, or I'd be sore in places I'm not used to being sore in. "I can't really explain over the phone—can you come over later today?" It will give me some time to piece the night together.

"Actually, I'm a little tied up today. Can we meet at your place tomorrow afternoon?"

"Sure. I'll see you around one tomorrow afternoon."

Heidi confirms the time and then hangs up without saying goodbye to our weird, whispered conversation.

The pills are beginning to kick in, and I'm feeling a little more human. A shower is exactly what I need to finish the job. Now, if only I could figure out exactly what happened last night between Maverick, Ace, Dalton, and me, all would be right in the world again. And I can go back to being the cold-hearted sports agent who's sarcastic and always in control.