Elena
The white cover-up was already soaked through when Jace and Cole walked into the backyard.
I’d planned it that way. Thin fabric, no bra, the pool water still dripping down my chest so my n*****s showed dark and hard against the material. My husband had left that morning for another week-long trip. The team had won. I’d texted Jace myself—come celebrate, bring whoever you want, the house is empty—and then spent an hour in the pool making sure I looked exactly like what I was: a woman who hadn’t been f****d properly in months and was done pretending she didn’t want the boys who lived under her roof half the time.
Jace stopped at the edge of the patio. Cole was right behind him, two more teammates trailing. All of them still in team shirts and shorts, hair damp from showers, eyes mov
