Too Fast (Boys of Lake Chapel #2)

by Abby Millsaps

“Well, you’re my boys,” Kendrick reasons, nodding at me. “All of you. We’re a family. And family protects their own. Let’s go get our girl.”

Ahhhhhhh

Kylian says nothing as he holds me, but he doesn’t have to. The scent of him—citrus and eucalyptus—and the familiarity of his touch are all the calm I need. They’re enough to immediately slow my breathing and to soothe the frayed nerves that have been shooting off rapid-fire intrusive thoughts for hours.

“Now you have a choice. You can let me be—let me cope with the fallout of this ordeal and do what I need to do to convince myself she’s okay, too—or you can try to control the situation. ‘Try’ is the operative word in that sentence, because I’m done doing things your way when it comes to my girl.”

“Haven’t you ever heard the phrase ‘put your own oxygen mask on first’?” Brow furrowed, he assesses me. “Those instructions are for people traveling on aircraft with children, Jo.” “Fair point. If I call you Daddy, will you go upstairs and sleep?” I tease. “If you call me Daddy, neither one of us is going to sleep anytime soon, and you know it.”

“It was easier to hate you than to admit I wanted you, too. You’ve been in my head since the moment we met, Jojo. I’m done fighting it. I know the deal. I don’t know the details yet, but I want in, too.”

“Don’t forgive me yet, Mama. I’m going to fucking earn it. You deserve to be fought for, not fought over. You deserve to be vindicated—which is exactly what I’m gonna do. The motherfucking South Chapel Sharks need to know what happens when they try to take what’s ours.” “Ours?” I ask, hypnotized by his closeness, his presence, the intensity of his gaze. “Ours. We were a mess without you, Jojo. When I saw how the boys all responded, saw how they need you… I couldn’t keep denying that I need you, too.”

“Jo,” Kylian scolds when she doesn’t respond right away. “Answer me. What do you need? What can we do for you?” She peers up at me, her eyes sparkling in the blue glow of the room, and sinks her teeth into her bottom lip. Then she turns that look on Kyl. “Distract me.” He grabs her chin, using his thumb to release her bottom lip. “Black and white, baby. How do you want us to distract you?” he rasps, tracing her lips with that same thumb. The repetitive motion on her pink pout is giving me all sorts of ideas about where we could take this. “Let me make good on my promise from last night. Make me feel good. Make me forget.” Kylian squints in consideration. “With Nicky here?” “With Nicky inside me,” she sasses, catching Kylian’s wrist. Without another word, she pushes his thumb deeper into her mouth. “Get on my fucking bed,” Kylian growls. “You too, Nicky.” He jerks his chin. “You heard our girl.”

Locke hasn’t even settled on the mattress before Kylian speaks again. “Holy shit. Bro. That’s…” “Impressive?” Locke smirks, then pulls me into his lap and peppers kisses along my bare shoulders. I lean back into his touch, letting him hold my weight as he lines himself up with my pussy. He’s right there, coating himself with my slickness, slipping his crown through my folds, when Kylian goes on. “I was going to say intimidatingly girthy.” Locke’s shoulders shake below me in silent laughter. “Bro. You’ve seen my dick before.” “But not in this context,” Kylian counters. “What context is that?” “About to thrust up into and potentially tear apart my girl.” Kylian’s voice is so serious I have to hold in a laugh. Locke grunts. “You mean our girl.” “Our girl. Right. Semantics. That doesn’t ease my concern. I’m being realistic here. Have you measured it recently? What’s the circumference? I don’t want her getting hurt, or—” “You guys!” It’s like I’m not spread out between them, naked, waiting for someone to fuck me. “Sorry, Hot Girl,” Locke mumbles, placing a soft kiss on my shoulder. “Your boyfriend’s worried my dick’s too big for you to handle.” Tipping my head back to look up at Kylian, I lick my lips. “Trust me, Daddy. It’ll fit.” “Daddy?” Locke gibes. “You’re a philosophy major, Nicky. Don’t tell me you’re not familiar with the teachings of Pascal. Daddy is a state of mind.”

“Don’t worry about riding him, baby. We’ll make you feel good.” Then, tilting his head to the side, he regards Locke. “You’re good with this? I’m not interested in licking dick, but you’re inevitably going to feel it while I’m working.” “We’re cool,” Locke grits out behind me. “Make her milk me until she screams.” Gripping my hips so tight each fingertip digs into my flesh, he holds me in place and fucks up into me from behind.

Kylian: 2. If it storms and we’re at the house, get her to the Nest. If we’re not home, get her to me or Locke, whoever’s closer or more readily available. Kendrick: I’d like to be considered for a position on that list.

Kylian: No. Kendrick is the better boatsman. And the more patient teacher. Cap: I can be patient. Kylian: Noted. Still no.

Go kiyl!!!!!

With a grin, I push off the railing. “Apparently.” I come to stand before him and extend a hand. When he’s on his feet, I pull him into a hug and give him a smack on the back. “She makes us better. All of us individually; all of us together. I know your first instinct is to protect, but there’s no danger here. She doesn’t need protection. She just needs you.” I don’t give him time to respond before I turn on my heel and head to bed.

“Do you really think they’re losing because of me?” I whisper. “Undoubtedly.” Kylian doesn’t even hesitate. There’s not an ounce of sugar coating his explanation. “You couldn’t have picked a more perfect way to get under Decker’s skin and throw him off his game. You donning Garrett Reed Ferguson the Third’s South Chapel Sharks jersey is the equivalent of a total knockout for Cap. I know it. He knows it. Greedy knows it. You pretending not to know it only makes it worse.” Shit on a crumbling cracker.

My heart drops back into its rightful place and beats double time while my dick springs to life the second I register what I’m looking at. Josephine. Standing proud. Wearing the number that’s been mine since I was ten years old. “Kylian,” I croak into the headset. “What number’s on that jersey next to you?” He tsks, but he plays along. “You’ve got twenty-twenty vision, Cap. You know she’s wearing number five.” Pulling his mic from his face, he tilts her way and brings his mouth to her ear like he’s speaking to her. She immediately springs into action, climbs onto the bench, and cups her hands around her mouth to make sure her words reach me. “Let’s fucking go, number five!” Let’s. Fucking. Go. I can’t fight the grin that erupts on my face. I don’t even care that both Kendrick and Locke instantly hound me, punching into my pads and running their mouths.

Her grin matches mine, and in that moment, as my team rallies around me and the Sharks continue to circle, as the band erupts into the fight song in the stands and the crowd chants “Crusade,” all I see, all I want—my entire purpose in this life—is her. Josephine. In Crusaders’ red. Wearing number 5. With Crusade across her back. My Siren. That’s my fucking girl. “Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go!” I scream, shoving my teammates and rallying the fucking troops. We have a game to finish. We have a game to win. “Spoon check, brother,” I murmur to Kendrick. This’ll only work if he’s got a full drawer. “I’m good,” he assures me. “Whatever you need, I got you.” “Kylian,” I bark into the headset. “Call Nacho.” Silence ensues for exactly one second. Then coaches start talking over each other, all in opposition to my request as the offensive line makes their way back to the line of scrimmage. I line up with Kendrick by my side, more confident than I’ve felt the entire game. Maybe more confident than I’ve felt during any game, ever. “Stats support the sneak,” Kylian advises, just like I knew he would. It’s how his mind works. There’s a clear, statistically supported call for this situation. “I hear you, Kyl. I do.” I can’t criticize him for pointing it out. “But you and I both know something the stats don’t know.” Despite how black and white he can be, Josephine’s opened him up to a world of color over the last several weeks. He feels it. He knows what seeing her in my jersey fucking do...

I’ve never felt anything that touches my soul and lights up my insides the way football does—until her.

“Go easy on him, Jojo.” Kendrick squeezes my hip. “He wasn’t trying to be a dick, whipping out his credit card and blowing us off like that. He’s got a lot on his mind.” “Yeah, yeah.” Just because he wasn’t trying to be a dick doesn’t mean he wasn’t acting like a dick. Whatever. “I’m at least getting an add-on,” I declare, perusing the menu of fifty-cent options, debating about whether I want chocolate coating, fudge drizzle, or sprinkles. “Oh. They’ve got vegan fro-yo and non-dairy whipped cream. I’m ordering a banana split with extra nuts,” Locke announces. I snort. “That sounds more like a fruit salad than a treat, Emo Boy.” He gives me one of those dazzling Nicky smiles and winks. “True. But I know just what to lick if I’m craving something sweet later.”

I let the nutrition bros step up to the counter and slink back so I’m shoulder to shoulder with Kylian. “What are you getting?” “Vanilla,” he replies without any preamble. “Just vanilla?” I tease. The irony. Between his dirty mouth and his lack of inhibitions when he’s sharing me with his friends, Kylian is anything but vanilla. “Just vanilla.” I loop my arm through his and tug him toward the counter. “You should at least get an add-on. Ooh. Get sprinkles!” He cocks one brow and looks down his nose at me like I’m delusional. “I’ll do no such thing.” I fight back a grin, love drunk, sun kissed, and a little punchy after my encounter with Decker. “But I love sprinkles,” I murmur in his ear, rubbing up against his bicep. “Then you should get them,” he encourages, rapping the fingers of his free hand on the chipped blue countertop while we wait for the employee to come back and take our order. “Kyl.” He side-eyes me under his glasses, then turns to face me completely once he sees my smirk. “We could share,” I suggest. “Your vanilla covered in my sprinkles?” I push my tits out for emphasis, just in case he needs a little more context. “No.” Denied. With a huff, I stick my lip out, teasing him with a pout. “It’s a texture thing,” he explains. “Sprinkles are pervasive, especially when paired with soft serve. I don’t stand a chance of taking a bite without getting one in my mouth.” Affection blossoms in my chest. I should have known. “So sprinkles are the sand of the ice cream wor...

Sprinkles!!!!!

“That was everything,” he murmurs, running his nose along mine as he cradles me in his lap. “Everything, Jo. More than I could have imagined, in one perfect moment I’ll never forget.” I hum, nuzzling against the lean, taut muscles of his chest. “Makes me wonder why we didn’t do it sooner,” I tease. Careful not to transfer any of the sticky ice cream onto his body, I kiss his sternum. Two fingers catch my chin and tilt my head up. When I blink, I’m met with his intense, fanatical, singularly focused stare. “I had to be sure, baby.” Anxiety rushes my body, and my limbs go rigid. “You doubted me?” I hedge, unease creeping up my neck. “No. Never.” He kisses me quickly and smooths one hand over my back. “I had to be sure you were okay. And I had to be sure I could manage the inevitable fixation sex with you would inspire. This is it for me, Jo. You’re it for me. I knew the second you let me in that I was done. There’ll never be anyone else. There’ll never be anything else I want or need.” Then, after a breath: “Is that okay?” I cuddle closer, tears pricking behind my eyes as I bask in his resolve and adoration. “More than okay, Kyl. I’ve never wanted anything more than I want to be yours. Completely. Forever.”

Kylian’s wearing a pinched expression somewhere between mildly frustrated and annoyed. Kendrick’s glower is all anger. I assess them for all of two seconds before heading toward Kylian. He lifts one arm without taking his eyes off Decker, allowing me to get close enough to nuzzle into his side. “Hi,” I whisper. He doesn’t respond, but he gives my shoulder a squeeze and kisses my hair. “What’s going on?” I ask, turning my attention from one guy to the next, hoping someone will fill me in. Despite her declaration that she was leaving, Hunter is lingering in the kitchen, standing on the opposite side of the bar next to Locke. It’s Decker who finally breaks free from the showdown and sets his sights on me. Sighing, he runs a hand through his hair, his jaw ticking. “We’re working out logistics for this weekend.” “What’s this weekend?” I ask, my anxiety notching up multiple levels. I wasn’t aware of any big plans, and I don’t like being caught unaware. Kylian pulls me closer. “We have an away game. South Texas. Transportation is confirmed, but the accommodations are proving to be problematic.” Hunter snorts, but the sound quickly transforms into a full-on belly laugh. At a loss for the source of her outburst, I gape at her, waiting for her to explain what the hell she thinks is so funny. “Oh brother,” she laughs, dabbing at her eyes before the welling tears can melt her mascara. “You’re all fighting over whose room she’s going to sleep in this weekend, aren’t you?” My heart thud...

“What’s the plan as of now?” Kylian answers, straightforward and precise, like always. “They have to travel with the team.” He nods at Decker and Kendrick, then over at Locke. “As do you,” Decker adds, one haughty brow raised. “I have the opportunity to, yes. But I’m not required to,” Kylian differentiates before turning back to me. “They’ll leave on Thursday night. I booked tickets on a separate flight for you and me. It leaves Friday afternoon.” He looks unabashedly proud of himself. And now I’m starting to understand why Decker and Kendrick are less than excited. Locke seems fine, but for the most part, he’s laid-back compared to the others.

He traces up my thigh, then teases me open with one finger, crooking it forward in the most exquisite motion. “Fuck,” I cry out. I’m lost. The euphoria is so consuming I can’t make sense of all the tingles coursing through my body. Locke’s tatted hand presses into my low belly. The pressure on the outside is the perfect counterpoint to the way K’s massaging my G-spot. My legs quake, and the unmistakable urge to pee flashes through me. It passes just as quickly as it came, and my body keeps climbing… “Fuck, fuck, fuck. I’m going to come hard,” I warn, too wrapped up in my own pleasure to be self-conscious. Kendrick grunts, and Locke pinches one nipple again as he sucks on my neck. “Come on, Hot Girl. Give him all you’ve got. He wants it, don’t you, K?” “Fucking come for us, Mama,” he commands, pressing a second finger into me and holding it against my G-spot as he nips my clit. That’s all it takes. I scream until my voice cracks, gushing out my release and squirting all over K’s hand and face. “Fuck yeah,” he praises, lapping at my thighs and pussy. Locke moves one hand down my body to catch some for himself. “Fuck, Hot Girl. You soaked him, baby. That was the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.”

“No.” Kylian’s objection is loud and absolute. Misty barks out a mocking laugh. “You’ve already signed off on this.” Heart dropping to my stomach, I search Decker’s face. When I get no reaction, I look to Kendrick and Locke and finally Kylian. “I didn’t sign anything,” I whisper, my voice cracking on the last word as I fight back tears. “You did not,” the other woman confirms. “And that’s a problem in and of itself. Everyone who lives in this house is required to sign an NDA. Decker knows this.” She glances at Cap. “Thomas has already been informed.” “We’re done here,” Decker declares, rising to his feet. “We’re not, actually,” Misty counters, pointing her clicker at the screen. The picture comes into focus in slow motion. Though picture isn’t an accurate description. It’s pictures. Plural. It’s a collage. A collage of regrettable choices and stupid decisions, made by a young girl trying to look so much older than she actually was. Though childhood hadn’t really been an option for her to begin with. It’s pictures of me at fifteen and sixteen. Grainy, red-eyed photos of me partying: double-fisting beers, pulling on a bong. It’s pictures I haven’t seen in years. Pictures that have been rounded up and used to deliberately destroy once before. Near the bottom, an out-of-focus shot proves to be the worst offender. It’s me, unconscious, being carried by my hands and feet by two boys who fucking knew better but took what they wanted anyway. Never let them get you to the second lo...

Oh my god !!! Yesssssss