Claiming His Cheerleader Read online

  CLAIMING HIS CHEERLEADER

  A FORBIDDEN ROMANCE

  S.E. LAW

  S.C. ADAMS

  Copyright © 2022 by S.E. Law and S.C. Adams

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

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  CONTENTS

  About This Book

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Epilogue

  Sneak Peek: Forbidden Fruit

  About S.E. Law

  About S.C. Adams

  ABOUT THIS BOOK

  Janie:

  * * *

  I’ve had my eyes on Brand Danner for ages now. The older man comes over for poker night at our house, and I know he sees me. In fact, one time I wore a loose v-neck …

  … bent over in his direction …

  … and Brand’s eyes practically popped out at the creaminess on display!

  So what if the handsome trucker is two decades older than me? He’s got broad shoulders, thighs like steel, and a drive shaft that makes me want to go on a long road trip where I never come home.

  In fact, I lie awake nights wondering how to take things with Brand to the next level. He’d make me pant and squeal in the front seat of his truck, for sure.

  But now, opportunity’s finally here. Brand’s coming over to watch a football game this weekend …

  … and I’m not holding back. I’ve got the perfect cheerleader’s outfit with a tight sweater, short skirt, and best of all red and white pompoms…

  … that I’ll use to tease and taunt.

  Hopefully, the handsome alpha male won’t be able to resist because I plan on cheering him on … all the way until he’s put a baby in my belly!

  * * *

  This is a follow-up to Trapped by the CEO, except this time, we’re with Emory’s friend Janie as she schemes and dreams about snaring a hot older man. Little does Janie know but Brand’s not just into cheerleading outfits … he’s into sassy cheerleaders who can entertain with the best of them! Grab a cold drink because baby, you’ll be doing backflips by the end. No cheating, no cliffhangers, and always a HEA for my readers.

  1

  Janie

  * * *

  I smile mischievously as I twist and turn this way and that, looking at myself in the mirror. I’ve changed out of my sweatpants and into jeans and a low-cut T-shirt instead. It’s not a crazy outfit, but it serves my purposes because I want to look sexy tonight. After all, it’s my favorite night of the entire month: poker night.

  My mom’s boyfriend Jerry is hosting, and he always has a couple friends over to drink, smoke cigars, and play cards in our dimly lit kitchen. But I’m not wearing this outfit for them, oh no, because most of Jerry’s friends are just like him: gross and lecherous. After all, Jerry really takes things to the next level and I have no idea what my mom sees in him. The old dude always smells horrible because he hardly ever showers, and he walks around with bare feet that are cracked and peeling, with a toenail or two falling off. Technically, Jerry works as a trucker, but he almost never leaves the house because he’s out on disability right now since he supposedly hurt his back on the job. Yes. My mom moved her boyfriend in with us a couple months ago, and it’s been hell on Earth since then.

  But who knows what Sheena’s thinking? My mom is my mom and Sheena’s always had a soft heart. Personally, I think Jerry’s “disability” is a load of bullshit and he just wants to live in our house for free without a care in the world, since he doesn’t contribute to bills. Seriously, is Jerry a grown man or a child? What man doesn’t at least contribute a nominal sum to the household expenses?

  Regardless, I gag every time I see that geezer walking around in his dirty underwear. He’s got tightey-whities that sag off his flat butt, and it’s sad to say, but the elastic is sometimes so loose that I actually get a glimpse of plumber’s crack even when he’s not leaning over. Needless to say, vomit has literally come up to the back of my throat and I usually look away as fast as possible, it’s that bad.

  But at least there’s a silver lining to all this: Jerry’s hot friend Brand Danner, who comes over for poker most months. He’s the only one of Jerry’s buddies who’s acceptable. Actually, Brand’s fucking gorgeous and I’d love to get a piece of him. He’s got black hair, gleaming blue eyes, and the body of a professional athlete. He’s older too, probably in his mid-forties, but his age only makes him more desirable in my mind. The things he could teach me…

  But for now, there isn’t much that I can do aside from tease Brand a bit. A little fun times never hurt anyone, did it? That’s why I put on my loosest t-shirt. It’s a little raggedy, but the material is super-soft and the v-neck deep. The décolletage looks pretty normal when I’m standing, so no one will suspect, but when I lean over, hoo-boy! You can see my tits, that’s for sure. Yes, I’ve decided not to wear a bra tonight, so Brand’s getting a show.

  It’s a naughty plan, but I’m excited. Right now, Jerry and his buddies are all in the kitchen, laughing loudly, drinking beer, and playing what’s probably their fifth hand of the night. Brand must be in there with them, and my body heats in anticipation.

  I let myself out of my bedroom, quietly coming down the stairs until I make it to the kitchen. The closer I get, the louder the men’s voices become, and I can easily pick out the deep ring of Brand’s baritone. The handsome trucker lets out a low chuckle as my mom’s pathetic boyfriend fusses about losing yet another round. Then, Mr. Danner says something unintelligible from this distance, and that Southern drawl makes my legs quiver and my panties go damp. I never thought that it would be possible to be so attracted to someone’s accent, but here we are.

  Stopping at the doorway, I pat my hair and make sure that my curls aren’t flying all over the place one final time before stepping inside the kitchen. The other men hardly pay any attention as I come in, aside from grunting something unintelligible as they continue to paw at their chips. But Brand’s head immediately shoots up and those blue eyes follow my curvy form as I prance into the kitchen.

  “Heya,” I purr. “How are you guys?”

  The other men continue counting their money, thinking only about dollar signs, but Brand’s gaze flares as he looks my way.

  “Hey Janie,” he says in a low voice. “I’m good. How are you?”

  I titter softly and smile at him.

  “I’m great, Mr. Danner.” The handsome man is unable to tear his eyes off my curves, even as a new hand is dealt. That aquamarine gaze is eating me up, and I wonder how he’s going to play at all, seeing that he’s hardly glanced at his cards.

  Well, I might as well make it worth his while then. Giggling softly once more, I open the refrigerator door and pull out a cold drink before closing it. Then, my eyes go wide and I let out a quiet gasp as I “pretend” to drop something. Of course, there’s nothing. I’m looking at thin air like an actress doing a green screen scene. But then, I bend down to pick the nonexistent item up, making sure to lean over slowly so that my v-neck gapes open, and Brand lets out a harsh grunt. Oh
yeah, this man just got a look at my tits, and I wiggle a bit, letting my girls swing.

  “Fuck,” Brand grunts, his hands shaking now as he holds his cards.

  Jerry glances at him.

  “You okay, buddy?” my mom’s boyfriend asks. “You’re sweating. You want me to turn up the A/C?”

  “Naw,” Brand manages in a choked voice. “I’m good. Just need a sip of my beer.”

  I giggle again, wiggling my shoulders once more so that my breasts sway. They’re Double D’s and look like mounds of pure cream tipped with ruby red nipples. Not only that, but I jiggle around a little more so that one literally pops right out of the big v-neck, my bud already swollen and stiff. Brand grunts again, his hips bucking a bit in his chair, and I let out another soft titter.

  “Dude, are you okay?” Jerry inquires again, his brow scrunched up. “It’s your turn to bid.”

  Brand mutters something unintelligible, and I laugh to myself because I know he’s got to be fighting hard to keep himself from getting up and bending me over the closest hard surface. Then, I up the ante even more. I pull my other tit out and then bring my arms close together and cross them under my breasts so that they’re pressed up and out, like an offering to the handsome man.

  That’s when Brand can’t take it anymore. He gets up in a rush, his chair screeching across the linoleum, before stalking out of the room.

  “What’s his problem?” old Tommy asks.

  “Did he just go for a leak?” another dude chimes in.

  Jerry nods, his wizened face creasing.

  “Yeah, it’s the beer,” he announces. “I got that new ale from Pennsylvania that fills up your bladder like a water balloon. Brand’s just feeling the effects. Hope he doesn’t get piss on my bathroom floor because he looked like he was ready to fucking explode,” Jerry adds.

  I roll my eyes at Jerry’s vulgarity, but what do you expect? The old geezer will always be gross. Besides, it’s clear to me Brand went to the bathroom not to relieve himself, but probably to rub one out. Good. Smiling to myself, I tuck myself back in before standing and smoothing down my t-shirt. Then I stroll out of the kitchen, calling out a sweet “goodnight” like nothing’s the matter.

  But sure enough, when I pass the first floor bathroom, I hear some desperate groans as well as the sound of flesh beating on flesh. Brand’s using his hand, I can tell, and I press my thighs together hotly before letting out another soft giggle and climbing up the stairs. Mission accomplished! That man definitely wants me, and I’ll bet he was so aroused that he blows a load in our guest bathroom. Mentally, I make a note to check for wadded-up tissue in the trash after he leaves. It’s gross, I know, but I love knowing that a man’s exploded because I’ve been a bad girl. I’m Janie Mulgrew, after all, and I have a naughty mind and a curvy, saucy body that I don’t hesitate to flaunt for my own purposes.

  When I get to my room, I close the door behind me and slither out of my clothes before crawling into bed and cuddling my pillow against me. My eyes close, but a bright smile remains on my face as I re-play Brand’s reaction to me over and over again. There’s no doubt in my mind that the gorgeous trucker wants me just as badly as I want him, and that’s exactly how it should be. But now I have to figure out some way to meet him for real. After all, private moments beating one out in the bathroom aren’t enough for either him or me.

  But what should I do? It’s not like we talk on a regular basis. In fact, the only time I get to see him is during Jerry’s poker nights, and I can hardly march in there and strip off all my clothes before throwing myself nude into Brand’s lap. Or should I do that? Hahaha, no that’s too crazy, even for me.

  My mind whirls as I try to think of other alternatives. I need to find a way to talk to Brand without other people around, but how? Slowly my eyes close as I drift off. A smile graces my lips as I fall asleep, dreaming of the handsome trucker whom I’m determined to show a good time.

  2

  Janie

  * * *

  The next morning, I wake up and stretch out as I let out a long, lazy yawn. The first thing that pops into my mind is Brand, and a smile immediately comes onto my face as I think about how fun it was to tease him last night. Seeing him all worked up and desperately trying to hold himself together while everyone else was around was something else. Knowing that he had to retreat to the bathroom for some private time made it even better.

  But he wasn’t the only hot and bothered person. I tossed and turned all last night as I dreamed about him. My skin is covered in a thin layer of stickiness now and my panties are glued to my cunt, practically soaked all the way through. The dreams I had were so vivid because in my dreams, Brand had me bent over, folded up like a pretzel, and bouncing up and down while wailing with ecstasy. I squeeze my thighs together while letting out a low moan. God, I want that to happen in real life so bad!

  If only I could make that dream come to life. But again, how? How am I going to get to know Brand if I can’t even figure out how to get him alone long enough to have a conversation? Of course, I’m not saying we have to talk, but there has got to be some way for us to interact at least.

  But then, a weird noise comes up from the basement. That’s strange because I’m on the second floor, so it’s pretty effing loud. It’s like a woman’s being carried off by King Kong, she’s screaming and wailing like a siren. What could it be? Even more, it’s bizarre because nobody ever goes down to the basement, and it’s so early in the morning that I can’t see why anyone would be down there at this time of day right now.

  “Weird,” I murmur to myself, getting a little spooked.

  More wailing greets my ears, and it’s really kind of scary. Could it be ghosts? Or more likely, some homeless person who snuck in and has been living down there for God knows how long without us even knowing it?

  I should probably tell my mom or Jerry and let one of them check it out, but I’m pretty sure they’re both still asleep. Maybe I should call 9-1-1 instead. Yeah, let the professionals handle it. But for some reason, I decide to take matters into my own hands, and creep out of bed before exiting my room and making my way down the stairs to the first floor. I tiptoe through the house until I’m standing in front of the basement door, and with a deep breath, I open it, bracing myself for whatever I might be about to see.

  There’s nothing except the dark stairwell looking like a grave back up at me. Okay, that’s normal at least. The sounds have died down a bit, and I can tell that there’s a TV on down there with some haunting Twilight Zone-type music. This seems more normal, so I tiptoe down the steps at snail’s pace and suck in another deep breath before flicking on the light switch. The room brightens instantly, and that’s when I let out a scream because what I see is absolutely horrific. It’s Jerry, of course, and he lets out a scream too as he quickly tucks his meat back into his underwear and fumbles with the remote, trying to turn off the TV. Of course, it doesn’t work and I continue staring with horror at the images on the screen. After all, this is no regular porn. Instead, my mom’s boyfriend appears to be watching a naked woman scream and struggle as she’s attacked by tentacles wrapped around her breasts and thighs. As I stare, one especially large tentacle pokes at her sweetest spot, and she lets out another scream of mixed delight and horror, letting out a huge gasp as it finally penetrates her.

  “Damn thing!” Jerry huffs as he slaps the back of the remote to get the batteries to work. Finally, the remote springs to life and the screen flicks off before I can see anymore, thank God.

  But that’s not the end of it. My mom’s boyfriend may be able to hide what’s on the TV, but he can’t keep me from seeing the rest of the basement. This place used to be pretty empty, but now it looks like a hoarder’s taken over for themselves. There are so many boxes that there’s hardly any walking space, and every one of the boxes is filled with so much shit that items are flowing out and spilling into messy piles on the floor.

  Plus, the contents of the boxes are unbelievable. I can see that a lot
of them are filled with old VHS tapes with pictures with naked women on them. There are aliens, monsters, and also one with what looks like a woman surrounded by a gang of Cthulhus? Is that what those creatures are called? I’ve never been into that stuff but I guess Jerry’s into kinky shit.

  Still, the sheer size of his porn collection is crazy. He’s filled up our basement with stacked boxes practically going up to the ceiling in some parts, and I’ll bet that my mom doesn’t know of it at all.

  “Hey Janie,” Jerry greets with a shit-eating grin. “Funny you caught me in the middle of a movie.”

  I spin on him.

  “What the fuck?” I scream, my face red. “What the Hell are you doing down here? What did you do to our basement?!”

  Jerry looks unabashed.

  “Shh, quiet!” he exclaims. His beady little eyes glance upward before he looks at me again. “Your mom’s still sleeping upstairs, so keep it down okay?”

  I merely stare at him some more, my own eyes bugging out now.

  “Are you freaking kidding me?” I scream again. “I don’t care if Sheena finds out because this is so gross!” I continue, holding back a gag as I look down at a particularly lurid magazine that seems to be from the 70’s. On the cover, there’s a sassy redheaded woman riding a broomstick, but then she appears to get off and use the broomstick to … well, you can guess.