ROMANCE: BAD BOY ROMANCE: The Football Star’s Secret Baby (Second Chance Alpha Male Pregnancy Sports Romance)

by Ava Walsh

  But Aaron was growing increasingly aware of the fact that every woman he met wanted to sleep with him. Maybe Chelsey wouldn’t be completely oblivious to his apparently sexy body either. Maybe he would be able to relive his fantasy of having her. Taking her, in his old bedroom.

  She was struggling against him, trying to pull her hand away, but Aaron only turned and smiled at her.

  “What is going on?” she asked. She didn’t look angry, she only looked like she was confused.

  “You’ll see,” was all the information he supplied her with.

  The stairs led to a corridor, and his room was at the end of it, past his parents’ bedroom and Hannah’s.

  He was still holding onto her hand as he led her there. His heart was still beating fast, he could still feel her arm in his hands, and he could already feel a movement in his pants.

  How could one girl make him feel this way, turn him on so quickly and so furiously? She wasn’t anything like the other women he usually fucked. What was it about her?

  “Aaron!” she shouted just as they approached his room. He was still clutching her hand when he turned to look at him.

  She looked sad suddenly, like she didn’t want to be this close to him.

  “You’ll see what I mean, I’ll show it to you in a few seconds,” he said, but she shook her head.

  “I want to know what it is, before I go into your room,” Chelsey said, loudly and clearly. That was when Aaron realized that she was lost to him forever, that she didn’t want him, and that she was in love with someone else. He was only a bad memory from her past.

  Chapter Ten - Chelsey

  Chelsey looked into Aaron’s eyes as they were standing in front of the door to his old bedroom.

  “Don’t worry. This’ll only take a minute. You’ll like it, trust me,” he said, and pushed the door open. Chelsey breathed in deeply before following him inside, into the room she remembered so well. It looked exactly the same: the neat single bed, the NHL posters on the wall, the bottle-green curtains at the window, the poster of David Bowie on the ceiling and the photographs of Aaron and his family on a board.

  Aaron was shuffling through papers and books on his study table in the corner of the room, while Chelsey stood looking at him in the dim light of the table lamp. She couldn’t believe this was happening, that she was alone with him, in his room, again. It was like his last night in town, three years ago, all over again. He turned to look at her suddenly, and they held each other’s gaze for a few seconds.

  “What do you have to show me, Aaron?” Chelsey asked him, curtly. He smiled. He was holding a piece of paper in his hands, which he stretched out towards her now. It took her only a few seconds to recognize it, after which she looked away, refusing to look at it.

  “What’s the matter? It’s the letter you left for me on the table after I went away. I found it in one of the drawers today when I came home.” He wasn’t smiling any more, and his arm remained outstretched towards her. Chelsey continued facing the window.

  “I know what it is. Why are you showing it to me?” She tried to keep her voice level, but it was a struggle. She couldn’t understand why he would put her through this, after so many years. What kind of joy was he deriving out of putting her through this misery?

  “Because it’s lovely and sweet. I didn’t even know it existed until this morning. I’ve been an ass and haven’t visited home since I left,” he said softly, taking a few steps towards her.

  “You’re embarrassing me, Aaron,” Chelsey snapped at him and, to her surprise, he laughed.

  “Dear Aaron…” he said and she realized to her horror that he was reading from the letter now. She breathed in sharply, her nostrils flaring. She could feel her limbs shaking. “You might never find this, or you might not care. I just wanted to write to you, to let you know that last night was very special…”

  Chelsey whipped around and walked over to the bed, to sit down at its end with her face in her hands. He was torturing her.

  “…it was beautiful and you were beautiful. I know you had to go, but I wish with all my heart that you didn’t. Maybe it didn’t mean anything to you, but I’d wanted this ever since I could remember,” he continued, taking a few steps towards her, towards the bed. Chelsey still had her face in her hands. She couldn’t bear to look at him.

  “…you will always remain my special someone, the boy who got away…” he continued reading, and Chelsey suddenly cried out.

  “Stop it, Aaron. Please stop.”

  He looked up from the paper in his hand. He was standing right in front of her now, and a smile lingered on his face.

  “You’re cute when you’re embarrassed,” he said, and she shook her head, rage pouring out of her eyes.

  “It’s more than embarrassment, Aaron. You’re hurting me,” she said, and looked away from him. Aaron was silent for a few seconds and then he kneeled down in front of her, dropping the paper to the floor.

  “Hey. What’s the matter, Chelsey? I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just thought we’d laugh about it. Reminisce about the old days,” he said, placing his hands on her bare knees. Chelsey looked at him, certain that he could now see the tears glistening in her eyes.

  “There’s nothing to laugh about. It might be a joke to you, now that you have lots of women writing you love letters. That’s the only one I ever wrote. It’s not a joke to me.” She hoped that she could keep her emotions under control. She had to try and remember that none of this was his fault. He just didn’t know. He had never known what she felt for him, and he had never known the truth.

  He was silent for a few seconds again, looking deep into her eyes. His expression had changed from confusion to concern and he spoke very softly now.

  “You’ve got it all wrong, Chelsey. It isn’t a joke to me, either. There might be several women who throw themselves at me, but this is the only love letter that matters. I can’t describe to you how happy it made me to find it here.” He squeezed her knees with his hands and stared at her. She could see his chest rising and falling with his every breath. His lips looked pink and delicious. Chelsey wasn’t sure if she could keep her emotions in check for much longer now.

  Chapter Eleven - Aaron

  Aaron had found the letter that day while unpacking, after Hannah had left his room. He had read the letter in one go, and then read it again till he knew every word by heart.

  He was filled with regret, that bitter feeling of lost time. She had left it there for him, after he had left already, which meant that he had never found it. And had never realized how she had felt about him.

  His first reaction to the letter had been delight. It was the sign he needed, that his feelings for Chelsey hadn’t all been in vain. That he had meant something to her, that he was more than just her best friend’s brother.

  But then in the next moments, he had also realized how old that letter was. It had been three years, three years of not knowing how things had changed for Chelsey. She had said in her letter that their night together had been special to her.

  But he had never got the chance to tell her what that night had meant to him. She had never gotten in touch with him, despite his attempts to contact her and he had eventually stopped trying, convinced that she had moved on.

  He tried to put on a brave face as he read the words to her. He tried to pretend that this was casual, just a joke, just a thing of the past. But now he could see that he had upset Chelsey. She was embarrassed by the letter. Had she forgotten that she had ever written it?

  He was crouched down in front of her, and he tried to catch her gaze but she kept looking away from him. She didn’t seem to believe him when he told her that he was happy to find the letter.

  “It wasn’t a joke then, it isn’t a joke now,” she said again, after several seconds of silence.

  “I know it isn’t. It isn’t a joke to me. Which is why I’m trying to tell you that I was happy to find the letter,” Aaron said, trying to catch her eye again. Chelsey looked at him b
riefly, her lips were set tightly in a straight line, and then she looked away from him again.

  “You were happy to find it because it massaged your male ego,” she said finally, and Aaron sighed. He didn’t know how to explain it to her, he wasn’t sure what she was willing to hear. He had to keep reminding himself that this wasn’t the same teenager he watched growing up. He didn’t know this Chelsey anymore.

  “That isn’t true, Chelsey,” he said, and she shot him a look.

  “I have seen the pictures, I’ve read the articles. I know who you are, Aaron. How many women you serially date, the kind of people you are friends with. A letter from an old friend, not even a friend, from a girl who used to be your sister’s friend…it can’t mean anything to you,” Chelsey said, knotting her fingers together in her lap.

  Aaron wanted to reach out and touch her face, but he held back. She wasn’t being friendly, it was true, she had changed since they last met. This Chelsey didn’t smile as often, and this Chelsey didn’t have a starry look in her eyes.

  “Why won’t you believe me, Chelsey?” he asked. She licked her lips and lifted her chin, like she had something to be proud of.

  “I don’t even know why you’re trying to convince me. Why you even decided to show me the letter. You hadn’t read it when it was meant to be read, what does it even mean now, three years later?” She wasn’t looking at him as she spoke.

  “I showed it to you because I found it today, and like I said, I thought we could have a laugh over it,” he said and immediately realized he had said something wrong.

  “So you think it’s funny?”

  “No. I didn’t say that.”

  “You think it’s childish?” She was glaring at him as she spoke, not very unlike the way Becca Lowry had been glaring at him.

  “I didn’t say that either. I just meant we could laugh and reminisce over the past, over old memories,” he tried to explain, but she was looking away from him again and her nostrils were flaring.

  “My memory of you from our childhood is of you being the popular kid in school, being a hockey star and having all the girls hang about you all the time,” she said and Aaron couldn’t help but smile.

  “And my memory of you from then is, you and Hannah cooped up in her room, you trying out new hairstyles on her, reading your books and fashion magazines, and basically ignoring me,” he said and squeezed her knees a little, his hand still remaining there.

  She didn’t say anything to that, but only looked back at him with some intensity. It looked like she wanted to say something, but she couldn’t.

  “Chelsey…” He breathed her name into the dark after they had both remained silent for a while. She didn’t say anything, and neither of them made a move. All he could feel was his hands on her knees, their skin touching, and his own loud breathing. He could touch her, smell her, feel her…they were close enough now. And it had been so long.

  Chapter Twelve - Chelsey

  Chelsey turned her face from him. She wasn’t sure of herself anymore. Years had passed, but he still had the same effect on her.

  “Chelsey…” He breathed her name and then began stroking both her knees. She looked back at him and realized that he was looking at her with a changed expression. His eyes had glazed over. He wanted her.

  “I wasn’t mocking you. Or the letter. I was just happy to find it, happy to see you again,” he said, letting his fingers wander over her knees and then her thighs. She could barely breathe, her words were caught in her throat. Instinctively she moved her legs, spreading them apart as his hands traveled up her thighs, accepting the invitation.

  In her mind, she was aware of what she was doing, repeating the very actions from three years ago which had caused her so much pain. But she couldn’t control herself. She was alone with him, and he was kneeling in front of her: Aaron Keels, the love of her life.

  His hands had made their way to the lace trim of her panties, and she breathed in deeply when, with one of his fingers, he stroked the growing wetness between her thighs.

  “You have no idea how many times I’ve thought about that night,” he said, breathing gruffly. Before she could respond, he lunged forward and enveloped her lips with his. His tongue was forcing its way inside, parting her lips, and she wrapped her arms around his neck. She could smell him, touch him, feel him…he was just like she remembered him. His hands were still between her legs, stroking her pulsating self. She dug her hands into the fabric of his jacket and he suddenly pulled himself away from her.

  “Chelsey.” He breathed her name gruffly again, before pushing her gently so that her back met the springy mattress of the bed. In one swift motion, he had taken off his jacket, unbuttoned his shirt and then crawled on top of her. He was smiling, but she couldn’t. She knew what was happening, what was going to happen. She was going to be left miserable and heartbroken. But right now, she wanted this more than anything. One more time.

  She wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him closer to herself. He was using his hands to explore her breasts, gently squeezing them and then moving up towards her neck. He bent his head down again to trace the curve of her neck with his tongue, while his hands undid the zipper of her dress.

  She felt the cool rush of air against her skin when her dress fell apart around her. He tugged the neck of the dress down with his teeth and, in the same moment, did the same with her bra. Her breasts popped out and she heard him take in a sharp breath.

  “I’ve missed them,” he said with a slight laugh, and then bent his head again to take her left nipple into his mouth. She could feel him sucking, squeezing her right breast with his other hand. His mouth was on her nipple, gently devouring it. She arched her back, her hips meeting his so that she could feel his hard, throbbing cock against her thigh. She felt an exciting shock run down her spine. She knew how it would feel to have him inside her. She dug her nails into his bare chest and pressed herself to him. He moaned.

  When he pulled himself away from her nipple, she arched her neck back, closing her eyes tightly. He was kneading her breasts with his hands while she took off his shirt, feeling the ripping muscles of his arms.

  “Aaron…” His name escaped her lips and she was surprised by it. But that only triggered him more. He reached down to pull her panties down her legs and then started undoing his own pants.

  “Chelsey. I want you so bad,” he said hoarsely, struggling to get his pants down. She reached down to help him. As soon as he had flung his pants off his legs, he grabbed her waist tightly, pulling her close to him, upwards. He didn’t prepare her for it but instead thrust himself inside her with one forceful push.

  She felt his cock slide in, deep inside her where she wanted to feel him, and she moaned loudly. She closed her eyes again when he slid out of her slowly. She could feel herself throbbing, and she wanted him back inside her again. He complied, pushing himself in again, this time with more force. When she moaned, he picked up his pace, thrusting and pulling out repeatedly in a quick motion. His eyes were focused on her bouncing breasts, while his hands held on to her tightly. He was moaning along with her as he thrust and throbbed and pulled out.

  She could see his neck growing redder by the second, his eyes were glazed over, he was about to jump over the brink.

  “Chelsey. I’ve missed you,” he yelled out before his body started shuddering and she could feel him emptying himself inside her. She let go as well, allowing her toes to curl and her neck to stretch back. She felt her body vibrate against him, with him still inside her. They held each other as their bodies engulfed them. His big hands were splayed behind her, clutching her butt tightly. She felt small in his arms, protected and safe.

  It lasted several seconds, and then she could feel her heartbeat subsiding. His grip on her butt remained strong, until she finally allowed her back to arch back so that her head gently touched the mattress. The rest of her body was still in his hands, just like her heart was.

  “Your turn,” he said when his body had stoppe
d shaking. She had been thinking of something else, about how good it felt to just be held by him. She hadn’t expected him to start all over again, but then she felt him slide out of her.

  Chelsey gasped. She had felt the trickle of his seed inside her when he had exploded, and now he had started to stroke her with his forefinger.

  Chelsey wriggled in his arms, but he held her down tightly. She could feel her body growing weaker, as he pushed his finger deep inside her, through the sticky wetness of her core.

  “Come for me, Chelsey, I want to see you come.” He whispered it into her ear, and she felt goosebumps appear on her skin. How many other women had he said this to? How many other women would give anything to be in this position? To be in Aaron Keels’ arms?

  He was watching her. His eyes were focused on her face, as she bit down on her lip, moving her hips in a circular motion. He bent down then, and vigorously licked her nipples with his long tongue. Like he was licking a bowl of ice cream clean. She felt the wetness of his mouth on her nipples and she winced. The feeling was intoxicating.

  He pushed in his finger again, stroking her, bringing her close to the edge of her sanity.

  She heard herself moan loudly, and then he inserted his middle finger as well. His fingers were thick and long and he was touching her in the spot that made her body quiver. She could feel the tension rising, she was coming closer and closer to an orgasm.

  “Aaron!” She screamed his name, and wrapped her arms around his neck. His muscles were clenched, his shoulders were broad and his chest was rock solid.

  “Come for me, Chelsey. Let go,” he urged her on, increasing the speed with which he was stroking her. His eyes were dark green now, his gaze shifted from her face to the way her breasts bounced with every shove of his hands.

  His fingers had reached deep inside her, covered in the wetness of her center. He was sliding in, then sliding out, stroking her, making her body vibrate.