Page 32 of Necessary Roughness

Sloane

“Are you sure you don’t mind?” I asked the next morning.

I was in bed with Knox, cuddling against his hard, warm body.

After the three of us lost ourselves in the mindless drive of our bodies last night, Knox demanded I sleep— actually sleep—in his bed since Logan got to cuddle with me on Friday night.

“Not only do I not mind,” he whispered in the morning twilight, “I think it’s a perfect solution.

We have a spare bedroom because of a player that transferred to Florida State at the last minute, and was never back-filled.

You get away from your shitty roommate. And the three of us are closer together, which makes the logistics of our arrangement much simpler.

Now instead of texting us, you can just walk five feet down the hall and knock on the door anytime you want to get dicked down. ”

“Well, when you put it like that…” I giggled, then pushed up onto an elbow to stare down at him. “Promise me one thing.”

“Listening.”

“If you ever get annoyed with me living here, promise you’ll tell me. I can go back to my other place. The last thing I want is you guys feeling like you’re stuck with me, and then start to resent me.”

Knox grabbed a handful of my hair, squeezed it tightly, and pulled my lips toward his. “I promise,” he said after a short kiss. “And since you’ll be sharing my bathroom, too, I promise to let you use my mouthwash whenever you need.”

“Is that a hint that my breath stinks?” I demanded.

“Yes,” he replied simply. “But since your breasts are rubbing against my chest, I don’t really mind.”

I playfully shoved him, then got dressed and opened the bedroom door.

And gave a start when I saw Logan standing right there.

“I don’t care if your breath stinks,” he said, grabbing my face with both hands and kissing me.

“Listening at the door like a creeper?” Knox said dryly.

“I can hear you through the wall. Didn’t need to creep at the door. Just good timing while I was coming back from the bathroom.” He gently touched my nose with his fingertip. “I also promise to kick you out if we get annoyed with you. But I doubt that’ll happen.”

“Glad to hear it. I’ll be back later with my stuff.”

Logan went into Knox’s room and they started chatting about one of the other football games, so I left their place by myself. But I paused when I saw Roman in the kitchen.

“You probably hate this,” I began. “If you’re against it, then I can find another—”

“I don’t mind,” he replied brusquely, his back turned to me while he washed dishes.

“Wait, you don’t?” I asked.

His back was still to me, the muscles in his shoulders flexing and rolling as he cleaned a plate. “If you stay here, it means Logan won’t get caught breaking curfew. Which is good for the whole team.”

I stood there, still confused by his approval of the situation. “Wouldn’t it be easier to keep Logan from breaking curfew?”

“I’m not his fucking mother,” Roman snapped, turning his head so I could see one dark eye. The profile of his face was strong and decisive. “Just keep it down, clean up after yourself, and I won’t have a problem.”

I mumbled, “All right,” and then left the house.

Morgan wasn’t around when I got back to my apartment, which allowed me to pack in peace.

Bryson came over with his truck and helped me with my things.

I left a note for Morgan explaining the situation, that I would be living off-campus for a while and she would have the entire apartment to herself…

as long as she dropped both the formal complaint and request for mediation.

“Thanks for the help,” I told Bryson as we drove away.

“Sure thing,” he said quietly.

We drove in silence.

“How long have we known each other?” I asked.

Bryson frowned at the road. “Freshman year. First semester. I got so shitfaced that I threw up all over the dorm hall, and you covered for me with the RA so I wouldn’t get caught.”

“Told him I had food poisoning.” I laughed. “He even believed me once he realized I was sober.”

“Why are you bringing that up?” Bryson asked.

“To illustrate that we’ve been friends a long time,” I said. “I know you, Bryson. Which is why I know you quietly disapprove of what I’m doing. Go ahead. Tell me what you think.”

He glanced sideways at me. “Will it make a difference?”

“Probably not.”

He chewed on the inside of his cheek, then said, “It’s been four weeks, Sloane. This is an incredibly impulsive decision.”

“I’ve given it a lot of thought…”

“You texted me about it last night,” Bryson argued. “It’s been, like, twelve hours.”

“And I’ve spent most of that time considering it! This solves everyone’s problems. And it’s an upgrade.”

“You’re moving in with two guys you’re having sex with.”

“Which makes it easier to have sex!” I replied with a grin.

He didn’t smile back.

“Having sex with them once or twice a week is one thing,” Bryson said. “But once you’re living together… aren’t you afraid you’ll develop feelings?”

“They’re just friends,” I said. “We all get along just fine, but we really don’t have much else in common beyond that. They’re both graduating in the spring, while I have another full year here. It doesn’t make logical sense for us to become emotionally involved.”

“Right. Because matters of the heart are always rational.”

“You’re a good friend, and I appreciate your concern,” I said. “I promise I’ll be careful. Speaking of love lives, how’s your girlfriend?”

“Nicole is doing well,” he answered. “The two of us started off as a hookup, too.”

I didn’t respond.

Logan was the only one home when we arrived, and helped me and Bryson carry my belongings into the spare bedroom. “Since you crossed the threshold, I’m gonna need you to sign the visitor spreadsheet,” Logan told Bryson. “Ahahaha. Just kidding. We don’t do shit like that here.”

“You kicked ass in the game yesterday,” Bryson said. “Aside from the first play of the game, when you got knocked on your ass.”

Logan put down a box in my room and grinned at him. “Believe it or not, I let him hit me. It was bait to make him overconfident the rest of the game. Crazy, right?”

“Shit, it worked!” Bryson replied with a laugh. “Fooled all of us in the stands, too.”

Logan gave him a fist-bump. “We’re going to try something similar on the road next Saturday. Their nickelback likes to jump coverage, so we’ll bait him a few times and then pull the rug out from under him when it really matters. Don’t tell anyone.”

“My lips are sealed.” Bryson made a zipper motion across his mouth, then glanced at me. “In more ways than one.”

Logan had obligations on campus that afternoon, so I was soon all alone.

I wandered around, getting a feel for my new home.

My new room was smaller than my old one, but not by enough to make much of a difference.

I had a bed, a desk, and a spacious closet; what more could a girl need?

Knox and I were sharing one bathroom, while Logan and Roman had another to themselves.

I was pleasantly surprised by how clean everything was.

I wouldn’t have expected that from a trio of football players.

Once I was unpacked, I sat down at my desk and started editing a paper that I had written earlier in the week. A few hours later, I got an email notifying me that Morgan’s complaint had been dropped and my mediation appointment was canceled.

I smiled to myself. I guessed that meant she approved of me moving out.

Not long after that, I heard the front door open and close. I twisted in my chair, waiting to see who had returned home. Knox strode past my bedroom, a backpack slung over his shoulder. He glanced into my room, but didn’t slow down or say anything.

I turned back around and stared at my laptop screen. Had I done something wrong? I considered popping into his room to ask if everything was okay, but decided I didn’t want to be intrusive on my first day. Better to focus on my work and leave him alone.

Before I could resume what I was doing, I heard his footsteps return down the hall. He strode right into my room, closed the door, and locked the deadbolt. He stood there, tall and broad-shouldered and imposing, his eyes drinking in the sight of me.

Then he spun my chair around and leaned down to kiss me.

Neither of us said a word as he deepened the kiss, quickly using his hands to pull down my sweatpants.

Then he reached lower, engaging the lever on the chair that made it recline, suddenly throwing me back at an angle.

With an urgency that said he didn’t have time to fully undress, he unzipped his jeans, pulled his cock through the hole, and hastily unwrapped a condom.

Then he tugged my panties to the side so hard I felt the elastic tear.

Both of us gasped as he slid into me in one long, desperate stroke.

Oh my God , he felt so good. A hand clasped my shoulder and he drove into me wordlessly, occasionally leaning in to kiss me but mostly staring longingly at me with a universe of lust swirling in his green eyes.

I couldn’t tell if it lasted two minutes or twenty, I was so enraptured by the way he slammed his cock into my pussy, chair creaking and rocking into the desk with every urgent thrust.

Only when his thumb pressed into my clit possessively did I break the silence with a ragged cry of pleasure, begging him to hurry, begging him not to stop.

He buried himself inside me as deeply as he could, cock vibrating and pulsing with release inside me, our lips connecting once more like magnets so we could kiss away our climactic cries.

“You said your body was mine,” he whispered after, his forehead pressed against mine. “I wanted to test it.”

“When I said my body was yours,” I panted afterward, “that is precisely what I meant.”

He rumbled with laughter, holding onto the back of my neck for support. “All right, then. Welcome to your new home.”

I let out a giggle. “If I knew that was the kind of welcome I’d be getting, I would move more often.”

“You’d better not,” he said, kissing my upper lip, then my cheek, then my forehead. “You belong to me, to us , for at least the rest of the semester. And Sloane? We intend to get the most out of it.”