Eligible Receivers (A Playing Dirty Sports Romance Book 4) Read online

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Epilogue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  COPYRIGHT

  This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue were created from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual people or events is coincidental.

  The author acknowledges the copyrighted and trademarked status of various products within this work of fiction.

  © 2017 Editor's Choice Publishing

  All Rights Reserved.

  Only Amazon has permission from the publisher to sell and distribute this title.

  This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Editor’s Choice Publishing

  P.O. Box 10024

  Greensboro, NC 27404

  Edited by Angela Snyder

  Cover by Vocal Design

  WARNING: THIS BOOK CONTAINS ADULT LANGUAGE AND EXPLICIT SEX SCENES.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Epilogue

  Chapter One

  Cameron Hines

  “Mine is way uglier than yours,” I tell Nixon, smoothing my hands down the front of the sweater in question before tweaking both of the pink knitted nipples depicting Santa’s naked torso.

  Nixon Lopez is my best friend and roommate. While we both play the wide receiver position for the same team, we couldn’t be more competitive.

  “Nuh-uh. No way,” Nix argues, his words slightly slurred from slamming back a few Buds. Gesturing to his own Christmas sweater, he says, “I’ve got horny gingerbread cookies fucking on mine. That beats Santa’s hairy white boobs any day.”

  “Nope. See that’s where you’re wrong. The naughty gingers are cute, not ugly,” I argue while tilting my head to the left to evaluate the girl cookie, the one wearing a dress, riding the boy cookie cowgirl style. “And is it fucked up that they’re making me hungry?”

  Glancing down at his own sweater, Nix asks, “Hungry for what? Cookies or pussy?”

  “Both. Always both,” I answer with a grin.

  “Amen, brother,” Nix says, making me chuckle as I hit his offered fist bump. “Now I want to find someone to fuck tonight while eating a big pile of cookies.”

  Nix and I are playboys at heart, moving from one hookup to the next without a care in the world. It’s pretty much the only life for us since we’re constantly training, working out, or traveling for games.

  My life has revolved around the football field since I was born. When I was five years old, my father signed me up for little league, insisting that I follow in his footsteps. Sure, I love the sport more than anything; but honestly, I’m not sure if that’s because of how I really feel or if it’s just been drilled into me that football is the most important thing on the entire planet.

  “We need to get an impartial judge to decide who wins our ugly sweater contest. Or maybe we should call it a funny sweater contest? Anyway, once we have a winner, we can figure out what to do about the hookup and cookies,” Nix declares.

  “How about Quinton? This is his house, his party. Shouldn’t he be the deciding vote?” I suggest.

  “Agreed. Let’s go find him,” Nix says as we both start looking around the house decorated from top to bottom in Christmas lights and boughs of holly, fa-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la.

  “We may never find him in all this shit. It looks like the North Pole threw up in here,” I mutter.

  “Hey! That’s not very nice!” a feminine voice objects from behind us.

  Nix and I both turn to see Kelsey, Quinton’s cute little nanny, with both of her hands braced on her hips. Kelsey was also our teammate Lathan’s fiancée and temporary wife before he came out of the closet. “I’ll have you know that I spent six hours today decorating this place for Brady’s first Christmas,” Kelsey tells us.

  “Brady’s only a few months old, so I don’t think he’ll remember,” Nix replies, echoing my sentiments.

  “You’re right; he won’t remember. But he will get to look at the pictures when he’s older,” she explains. “Quinton and Callie wanted it to be festive.”

  “It’s definitely…festive,” I tell her while my eyes lower to the deep cleavage pushed up to the V-neck of her green sweater dress. Before I let my dirty mind run away from me, I force myself to stay on task. Nix and I need to find Quinton so that we can settle this wager and then bet on another one. “Do you know where we can find your boss man?” I ask Kelsey, lifting my eyes back up to her melted chocolate ones.

  Flashing me a blinding smile that tells me she’s over the insult of her decorating, Kelsey says, “Quinton’s in front of the fireplace, but now is not a good time to try and talk to him.”

  “Why not?” Nix asks her in confusion, just as eager as I am to have the winner decided. Our gambling and competing is like an ongoing addiction. As soon as we finish with one competition, we immediately move on to the next. It’s a wicked, endless cycle that both of us greatly enjoy. Well, except when we lose.

  “This is really important,” Nix informs Kelsey before he starts to cross the living room with me following right behind him.


  Kelsey jogs past me to grab Nix’s elbow to stop him. “Wait a second! Nothing is more important than what Quinton is doing right now!” she replies.

  “What?” I ask her with my brow furrowed in confusion. “He’s just talking to Callie.”

  Just as I glance back to the couple, Quinton goes down on one knee in front of his girlfriend.

  “Oh, shit! Is he proposing?” Nix asks.

  “Yep,” Kelsey informs us.

  I can’t hear what Quinton is saying to his girl, but it’s obvious that Callie is agreeing because she’s nodding vigorously. Quinton then lifts her left hand to slip a ring on her finger before getting back to his feet and kissing her. Annnnd he keeps kissing her while everyone claps and cheers in congratulations. Not that I’m a proponent of the institution of marriage or anything. Kind of hard to be when your parents get divorced at age five and you spend the rest of your childhood being bounced around like a pinball.

  Before anyone can even approach the couple to slap Quinton on his back in congrats or ask him to decide the winner of our ugly sweater contest, Quinton picks up Callie in his arms, cradling her against his chest, and carries her like a new bride striding right past everyone and down the hallway…

  Well, at least someone is getting laid tonight.

  Too bad that this Christmas party consists mostly of teammates and their significant others. In fact, I’m pretty sure Kelsey’s the only female here tonight that’s not taken.

  She’s cute in her green dress and tall brown boots too, but the problem is that Quinton would kill me if I turned his nanny into one of my flings. Besides, the girl is really damn shy, which means more work than I’m used to putting in for a romp in the sheets. Although, I’m guessing by the flush on Kelsey’s freckled cheeks that she’s a little tipsy like the rest of us, which means there’s a possibility, although slim, that she might be game for a little Christmas nookie with me…

  …

  Nixon Lopez

  Quinton’s Christmas party is great and I’m having fun drinking and hanging out with my teammates, but the holidays have me in a…giving mood, and there are no single ladies here for me to fill with my personal brand of joy.

  The holidays have always been depressing since I haven’t seen my family back home in Florida in years after realizing that all my brothers, sister, or mom want from me is for me to play Santa Claus all year round and support them. That’s the only time I ever hear from any of them — when they need cash. And yeah, I send it to them whenever they ask because I have a ton of it. But it still stings that they never use any of the money to come to a single one of my games even when we play down in Jacksonville or Miami.

  Friends from high school are the same as my family since everyone back home in our poverty-stricken town is a slave to the dollar, and I don’t keep in touch with teammates from college since most were jealous that I got drafted into the pros when they didn’t.

  That means that the Wildcats' players are the only ones who give a shit about me, but I metaphorically stiff-arm most of them to keep them from getting too close because I don’t trust easily. How can I when my own relatives care more about my money than I do? Cam may be just as stubborn and competitive as I am, but I love him like a brother because I know that no matter what we bet on, it’s all in fun and nothing will ever come between our close friendship. He’s my partner in crime and the best wingman a guy could ask for. When the two of us go out, there’s never a shortage of jersey chasers throwing themselves at us.

  While they may not provide much of a challenge, and yeah, anonymous sex is getting pretty boring, it’s still nice to know the choices are pretty much endless. There are always women looking to bind themselves to a pro athlete so they can buy their hearts' desires. Those party girls all think that the way to that big rock on their finger is to get on their knees or spread their legs. They couldn’t be more wrong.

  I may enjoy spending a night with them, but I will never, ever marry a woman who lets me fuck her before I even know her name, her birthday, and, I dunno, her favorite childhood pet or something else that isn’t typically discussed within the first five minutes of meeting. Anything less, and she’s probably a gold digger who I won’t ever be able to trust except to give me a few wild, sweaty minutes of hot sex. Not that I’ll turn that down…

  “That’s so sweet! I’m so happy for Quinton and Callie!” Kelsey says, bringing my thoughts back to the party.

  I was going to suggest to Cam that, once we settle this ugly sweater mess, we get an Uber and haul ass to a bar to find some jersey chasing pussy, but fuck if Kelsey’s not looking sexy as hell in her dress that hugs her curves, her tits pushed out begging for a dick to slide between the cleavage. Those tall brown boots are hot too. In fact, I want them wrapped around my waist…

  “Kelsey, I’ve got to say,” Cam starts, and as soon as I see his tongue slowly wet his lips, I know he’s putting on the moves before he even tells her, “You look beautiful tonight, practically glowing brighter than the Christmas lights.”

  Wow, that’s the line my boy is going with? Fuck that.

  “Dude, why are you trying to suck up to this sweet girl now after insulting her hard with your whole North Pole puking comment?” I decide to call him out even if he hit the bullseye with that assessment.

  My best friend narrows his blue eyes at me for trying to crush his chances with Kelsey; but before he can form a comeback I ask, “Kelsey, sweetheart, could you do me and Cam a favor?”

  “Ah, yeah, sure,” she answers, big, brown eyes blinking confusedly up at me and Cam, who are both about a foot taller than her.

  “If you had to pick, which of our sweaters do you think is the ugliest?” I ask, gesturing between me and the jackass on my right.

  “You want me to tell you which is the ugliest?” she asks with her eyebrows raised in surprise while examining both options.

  “Yep, ugliest. Go ahead and tell the truth. You won’t hurt our feelings,” I reply.

  “Hmm,” Kelsey mutters, tapping a finger to her lip. “I don’t think either is ugly. Yours is…definitely naughty,” she says with a grin before turning her attention to Cam’s. “And Cameron’s is pretty funny.”

  “They’re supposed to be ugly funny,” Cam explains. “So which is the funniest, final decision?” he asks. “We’ve got a bet going.”

  Lifting her tits and letting them fall back down…I mean, her shoulders, Kelsey’s eyes meet mine, then Cam’s. “They’re both really funny, but I can’t decide.”

  I thought for sure that she would say mine after Cam’s insult to her about the Christmas decorations, so I’m incredibly disappointed not to come out with the win.

  “Guess we’ll have to find someone else to decide for us,” Cam suggests as his eyes roam around the room. “How about Lathan?”

  “Fine,” I agree.

  “In that case, I’ll see you guys later,” Kelsey says while pushing a lock of her wavy, cascade of coffee-colored hair behind her ear. Then she turns around and scurries away toward the kitchen, allowing me to get a nice long look at her tight, round ass. I wouldn’t mind getting closely acquainted with that ass…

  “Dibs,” Cameron mutters, popping the bubble of my fantasy.

  “Fuck no,” I tell him. “She’s hot, and she’s the only single girl here.”

  “Which is exactly why I called dibs,” the jackass replies.

  “You know Quinton would have your dick for one and done-ing her, and you can’t just call dibs on the sole female at the party.”

  “I’m pretty sure I just did,” Cam says to me with a smug grin. “And what Quinton doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

  “Dirty motherfucker,” I mutter. “What, are you too scared of losing to me to try and win her fair and square?”

  “Nuh-uh,” he says with a shake of his head. “I called dibs on her, so we’re not turning that sweet girl into one of our competitions.”

  “Good thing too,” I reply. “Because you would definitel
y lose.”

  I hear his grumble of annoyance and know my best friend is caving before he even asks, “What did you have in mind?”

  “We’ll take a poll of the room to see which of us gets the most votes in the ugly sweater contest. Whoever wins gets a shot with Kelsey.”

  “Deal,” Cam agrees, holding his hand out for me to shake on it, which I do.

  “So, Lathan first?” I suggest.

  “Hell yes,” Cam agrees, so the two of us waltz over to where our tight end is sitting beside his new man on the sofa, watching the Titans play the Cougars on Monday Night Football.

  Is it strange thinking of Lathan getting down with another dude? A little I guess, but only because it was so unexpected. If anyone had asked me, I never would’ve guessed Lathan played for the other team. But now that I know, it’s not that big of a deal. I’m just shocked that he was able to keep it a secret from us all for so long.

  “Hey, man, how’s it going?” I ask.

  “Hey, um, good,” Lathan says, face lighting up like Rudolph’s. “You guys remember Roxie’s friend, Pax, right?”

  “Yeah, sure,” I say, offering my hand to the clean-cut man dressed in a suit. “I’m Nixon.”

  Cam follows suit, shaking his hand and introducing himself.

  “Nice sweaters,” Pax remarks with a broad smile.

  “Funny of you to mention that,” I start. “Cam and I need you two fine gentlemen to help us settle a bet on who has the ugliest, funniest sweater.”

  Turning to me, Cam asks, “Laying it on thick, aren’t you?”

  I ignore him and wait for Lathan and Pax’s evaluation.

  “I gotta go with Nix’s because I have a dirty mind,” Pax finally says.

  “No, Cam’s is definitely funnier,” Lathan argues. “I mean, nobody wants to see what’s under Santa’s hood.”

  “Guess we’ll have to agree to disagree,” Pax replies.

  “Great, tied. Thanks for nothing, guys,” I grumble in annoyance. “Who’s next?” I ask Cam.

  “How about…Roxy and Kohen?” he suggests, pointing to the couple, who are currently putting their coats on in front of the closet at the front door.