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CHAPTER 26 JOLENE

I head home from the studio a little early since I don't know what time Sam will be getting home from the afternoon product launch event and I want to make sure one of us is home when the boys arrive. They have their after-school Lego building club today, but the late bus will drop them at home around four-thirty.

It's nearly three-thirty when I get home, and I sit on the couch with my laptop to get some more work done. It's constant, and with a roster of fifty-three players plus the coaching staff numbering somewhere around twenty and a front office staff with over a hundred employees…I have plenty of content to keep me busy for the rest of the year.

But I can't focus.

Instead, I'm thinking about Lincoln and Sam and what the fuck have I done?

Why would I possibly have thought this was a good idea?

What if he kisses her? What if she falls for him? We've just introduced a complication to our already complicated relationship. And for what?

I don't have any of those answers, but I do know that I don't like how I feel right now.

I never should've brought it up to Lincoln. I had no idea he'd think it was a good idea, too—a way to get the focus off his personal life and onto the game. I had no idea that he wanted one woman to attend events with so nobody would bother him.

It seems like a win-win, and it is…for the two of them.

I, however, feel like a big old loser as I sit by myself on the couch trying to work.

Instead of working, I search his name to see if I can find any photos of him and Sam. Nothing's out yet, but the event isn't over yet.

I blow out a breath.

This is dumb.

And no sooner do I think that than I hear the front door unlocking and the door opening. I slam the lid of my laptop shut and leap up from the couch.

Sam is laughing as they walk in together, further pushing the knife into my spine.

Okay, so that's dramatic. She's just putting on the act.

But he's laughing, too, and he doesn't need to act as the door shuts behind them.

They look like a perfect pair together. Sam is gorgeous in a red dress and heels, and Lincoln wears a suit that I want to peel off of him one layer at a time.

"How'd it go?" I ask, feeling left out as I interrupt their laughter.

He turns serious when he sees me. "Hey."

Sam looks from him to me and must assess that I'm angry even though I have no reason to be. "I'll, uh…give you two a minute. I need to get out of these heels, anyway." She scurries down the hall to her room.

"How'd it go?" I repeat.

"Fine. Everyone seemed to buy it. Are you okay?"

"I'm wondering why I thought it was a good idea," I answer honestly.

"Wait a minute. Are you…jealous?" he asks, and his lips quirk up a little as he says the word.

"No. Of course not. Don't be silly."

He draws in a dramatic gasp. "You are!" he accuses.

I fold my arms over my chest and glare at him.

"Jolene. Come on. You have exactly zero reason to be jealous. We had fun, but Sam is nothing more than your friend. Okay?" He walks over and pulls me into his arms, but I don't unfold my arms so it's sort of just an awkward, one-sided hug. "I may be seen publicly with her, but I'm coming home to you." He presses his lips to my forehead.

"Fine," I mutter.

"I'll cut it off with her right now if you think it'll make you feel better," he offers. "But you should know that Rivera was there, and he totally bought it."

"He did?" I ask, and he's piqued my interest.

He nods. "Everyone did, and not because we were putting on a show, but because you don't take random women to afternoon product launches. It meant a lot to have her there—that it's more serious than a flashy show at a charity ball. You know? It was the right time to debut this thing, and might I remind you of the reason we're doing this?"

I finally unfold my arms and let them drop to my sides, and his arms tighten around me. I can't resist. I wrap my arms around his waist, and it feels good here.

It feels right here.

"I know," I say softly.

"Do you? Or do you need me to take you into your bedroom and remind you?"

"Can I say both?" I squeak, and he laughs.

But the laughter fades quickly as he sweeps me up into his arms. He carries me to the bedroom and he shuts and locks the door behind him.

"What time is your son getting back?" His voice is a demand, and it's hot.

"Four-thirty."

He glances at his watch. "Not nearly enough time for what I want to do with you, but it'll have to do."

And then he gets to work. He shoves my jeans down my legs, and I kick them the rest of the way off. He pulls his cock out and strokes it a few times. "Bend over the bed," he commands, and I do as I'm told.

He slams into me from behind, and the feeling of ecstasy is nearly immediate.

He's driving against the ache I've felt since the last time we did this—a full week ago after Sam signed the paperwork then left the two of us alone. We haven't seen each other since. He's been busy planning OTAs and I've been busy putting together stories and turning what I have into Marcus.

I've missed this, and it's a type of relief I didn't know I could feel.

And I already know why.

I'm addicted, and I'm not sure I'll ever get enough of Lincoln Nash.

The second the thought hits my brain, he reaches down and brushes my clit.

I fall apart as he continues pumping into me, and it's just a few beats later that he hisses out his own release. He pulls out of me and tucks himself back into his slacks, and I feel his semen as it drips from my pussy onto my leg. He rolls my panties back up my legs, catching his own moisture on the way, and when he gets them firmly into place, he slaps my ass.

He stands and moves his mouth close to my ear.

"Don't take these off," he murmurs softy. "I want you walking around with my come rubbing wetly against your cunt for the rest of the day, and I want you to feel it and think of me."

I gasp a little at his words.

Well then.

Jeez.

I certainly don't remember that sort of dirty talk from my teenage years.

We head out to the kitchen, and the boys aren't back yet—thankfully at the moment given that I'm still recovering from the wreckage he just made of my pussy and I'm wearing wet panties.

It's an open floor plan, and Sam is sitting on the couch in the family room just a few yards away from us scrolling her phone. She has the television volume turned up louder than usual—probably to drown out the sound of him railing me a few minutes ago.

"You should go," I say. I press a soft kiss to his mouth. "The boys will be home any minute and there will probably be more questions than we're prepared to answer."

And just as I finish saying the words, we hear the front door open. We jump apart, and I rush over to the pantry since I know the boys will ask for a snack first thing.

As Cade walks into the kitchen, he freezes when he spots Lincoln Nash standing there. Jonah stops short when he crashes into Cade's frozen back.

"Coach Nash is standing in my house," Cade says.

Jonah peers around him at the man standing there in a suit. His hair is slightly rumpled after our bang session, but otherwise he looks deliciously put together while I'm still basically a quivering mess in the pantry.

"What are you doing here?" Cade asks.

"Oh, uh…" he starts. He glances at me with wide eyes and then over to Sam. "I'm seeing your mom."

He says it generally, as if he might be saying it to Jonah, which is the truth, or to Cade, who asked the question.

I feel like shit for lying to the boys. We weren't planning for it to come out this way…in fact, we weren't planning anything at all.

Cade gasps. "Are you serious?"

He nods. "Sorry you had to find out this way, kid."

Sam leaps up from the couch for damage control, but instead of controlling any damage, she slips her arm around Lincoln's waist. "Better for you to find out now since you'll see photos of us in the news soon." She smiles tightly, and it's the clear signal that she's going to keep up the ruse even to her child—which is probably a smart move given the loose lips seven-year-olds tend to have, but it still feels all sorts of wrong to even be in this position.

I guess if her goal is to make her ex jealous, though, then making sure her kid believes the performance is an important part of that.

Still, none of this sits right with me, and I hate the feelings of jealousy blooming in my chest as I watch Lincoln toss a casual arm around my best friend's shoulders in front of our kids.

Particularly when I see the look of disappointment my own kid is trying to hide.

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