Page 127 of Twisted Play

Tristan

Beautiful.

I melted, leaning against the door and letting their praise wash through me. One word. Just one. But it made me melt, made me feel precious instead of dirty. How did they do that? How did they make me feel both degraded and cherished at the same time?

When I emerged a few minutes later to wash my hands, I looked at my reflection critically in the mirror. With my cheeks rosy and flushed, my green eyes sparkling, my curly hair messy under the ball cap, I had to admit, I’d never looked cuter or been more confident in my looks.

Not that looks were everything, I rapidly corrected myself, but I stopped. No. There was nothing wrong with looking in the mirror and admitting I looked good.

By the time I returned to my seat for the second period, the game was about to start again.

An hour later, the Marauders won 5-1.

It was time.

45

COLE

When we walkedout of the locker room, freshly showered and changed, we found Eva leaning against the wall, her attention buried in her phone. Her long red hair dangled down her back in a braid, curls escaping to frame her face, her lips moving softly as her thumbs slid over the screen.

She was so goddamned beautiful, so goddamned smart, so goddamnedgiving, and she wasours. And when she looked up and smiled like she was happy to see us?

Fuuuccckkkkk. I shouldn’t like this so much, shouldn’t ache to see more of her smiles. I should be focused on punishing her for that stunt with Haruto’s jersey, but instead, I smiled right back at her, delighted, ignoring how my chest tightened at her joy. She sauntered over, her hips swaying with every step, and I cursed Tristan’s jersey for being so long it hid her legging-clad thighs from my gaze.

“Congratulations,” she purred as she wrapped her arms around my neck, surging up on her toes to kiss me.

I’d thought Eva on her knees and crying was all I ever wanted, but Eva with her curves pressed against my chest,her lips moving against mine, her tongue slipping into my mouth because shewantedto kiss me fucking destroyed me. I held her tight, letting her lead, tamping down the adrenaline rush from our win and the need to slam her against the wall and devour her like a conquering warlord.

She pulled back, her eyes luminescent with an emotion I didn’t understand. She smiled at me, sweet and perfect and somehow still unsullied, despite our efforts to corrupt her. I leaned forward to take her lower lip between my teeth and nipped hard, half teasing, half punishing, and she moaned, her breath rushing out of her in a sharp exhale.

My cock hardened underneath my jeans.

She kissed my jawline then pulled away to congratulate Tristan.

“Hey there, pretty girl,” he said to her. Unlike me, when she surged up to kiss him, he took control, lifting her leg and driving his pelvis into hers as he conquered her mouth, turning her into a panting, whimpering mess.

I’d never wanted to blow off the post-game press conference more, but I was committed to being less of a fuckup. That meant playing my part. It was bullshit. We won because we were the best. Tristan scored a goal, I scored two, and the team had never played better.

But I had to go, and that meant tearing my eyes from the scene in front of me and putting a hold on my desperate need to slide my fingers between Eva’s legs to see how wet she was.

“C’mon,” I said, tugging her hand and raising it to my lips before twining my fingers between hers, refusing to question the instincts that had me treating her with unusual gentleness. I wanted to, and I did what I wanted, even if Tristan grinned like a fucking fool as he watched me.

My lucky charm stood behind the glass at the back ofthe room, her cheeks pink and those gorgeous green eyes shining. Her thighs were pressed together, and her lips were swollen from our kisses.

Everyone who scored a goal tonight stood for a minute to say our piece—that it was a team effort, that we respected the other team, that we were grateful for everything going our way.

The moment we could, Tristan and I slipped away. I dragged Eva back to the locker room with us, unwilling to let her out of our sight for even a moment. Tristan laughed at my possessiveness, but the glint in his eye wasn’t any less manic.

Fuck, I couldn’t bring her into the locker room—some of the guys were still changing, and she wasmine.

“I’ll grab your bag,” Tristan promised, understanding my quandary like only a best friend could. He pulled Eva against him for a frantic kiss that had her squirming in his arms then pushed her away. “Two minutes.”

As he walked in, the celebratory clamor in the locker room leaked out, followed by the captain, who looked at the possessive arm I immediately wrapped around Eva’s waist with amusement. He dropped a hand on my shoulder. “We’re going to Pour Decisions after this to celebrate. You should join us.” When I hesitated, eager to get Eva home, naked and crying on her knees, Massi rolled his eyes. “Bring your girl.”

My girl.Ourgirl. Tristan burst out of the locker room so fast, he slammed into Massi.

Massi’s eyes narrowed, looking first at Eva, then the two of us, then back at Eva, who flushed with delicious embarrassment. I wondered what it was—that she was dating two of us? That Massi knew? That the only thought in any of our heads was getting her home and sinking our cocks into her?God, I couldn’t wait to see how soaked she was, to wrap those thick thighs around my head and feast on her.