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

by Ava Walsh

  Someone shoved a plastic cup of beer towards her and she took it from them, in a daze. Margie hated beer and most other alcoholic drinks. It one of the many reasons she didn’t think there was any reason for her to go to parties.

  “Excuse me!” She tapped a guy on the shoulder. He was swaying to the music with his eyes closed. She screamed at him again until he opened his eyes and smiled.

  “Have you seen Lance Healy around?” she asked at the top of her lungs, and the guy, who looked slightly familiar to her, smiled.

  “Of course I have. He organized this. Who are you?” he asked, grabbing her free hand and twirling her around. Margie forced herself to smile, although she could feel herself beginning to panic. It felt like she was in a small, closed space and she needed to get out.

  “I’m Margie. He invited me. I was wondering where he is,” she leaned in to say in his ear. The guy laughed. His hand had crept up to her waist.

  “You could check the pool. But who knows where Lance ever is?” he said wistfully, and let her go. The guy was swaying again and Margie pushed past him. She couldn’t understand what the appeal was in coming to these parties, if everyone was drunk all the time and it was impossible to have a productive conversation with anybody.

  She continued making her way towards the back of the house instead. The pool sounded like a good idea. It would give her a chance to catch a breath, as well.

  When she saw the glass sliding doors, a wave of relief washed over her. Finally, an opportunity to make it out and away from all the noise and the people crashing into her.

  She grabbed the knob and started to gently slide the door aside, and when she looked up, she saw him.

  Lance Healy was standing at the edge of the pool in a pair of cotton trunks. His bare chest and thick sculpted legs were all exposed to the world. Margie felt her breath catch in her throat. He had a half-empty bottle of beer in his hand and he was looking down, talking to two girls in the pool, their swimsuits barely visible in the water.

  Margie slid the door aside and stepped out, but remained where she was. That nervous feeling crept up again at the thought of having to talk to him. He had presented her with another impediment on her path to self-confidence - his gorgeous, naked body. She could see the drops of water glistening and sliding off the muscles of his smooth back and arms. Clearly he had just stepped out of the water. His poker-straight brown hair was damp and matted at the back, swept away from his face.

  As she stood staring at him, he turned and caught her eyes. With one hand he wiped his face, and with the other he waved at her.

  She had no choice, he had seen her. She would have to do something.

  Margie waved slowly and took a few steps in his direction.

  “You made it!” he said, as she approached him.

  “Of course I did. I know what is good for me,” she said with a laugh, barely able to make the words form in her mouth. Lance bent down to grab a discarded towel on the grass.

  “You quote me like I’m a celebrity,” he said, throwing the towel around his shoulders. His muscles flexed, clenched and moved and Margie could feel her eyes following their every action. Lance Healy was like a work of art.

  “You are one,” she managed to say, and he laughed again.

  “You flatter me, Margie.” He threw his arms open to her again, and this time, she tried to hug him more confidently, instead of allowing her body to cave in and lie flat against his chest.

  “You smell beautiful. What is that?” he asked, as he pulled away from her.

  “Just some rose water.” Margie blushed. “My mother forced me to use it as a child, and now I can’t give it up,” she added, as Lance watched her intently.

  “That’s lovely. Come, sit down with me.” He turned on his heel and led her towards the deck chairs.

  She felt self-conscious, even though he was polite and attentive. Margie knew that all eyes were on her. Everybody was wondering who she was, and why Lance was even talking to her. The two girls in the pool who he was speaking to earlier were staring directly at her as she walked. She tried not to look at anyone.

  “So Margie, what do you think?” he asked as they sat down on two of the chairs. He had started dabbing the towel on his hair and the back of his neck. He was so confident naked, he was showing off, in fact. Nobody had seen Margie naked. She didn’t know how she would ever deal with it.

  “The music is too loud,” she said, and Lance broke into another laugh.

  “I had a feeling you would say that. My ever-responsible tutor.” Lance’s focus was on her, she was the center of his attention and she could barely believe this was all happening.

  “Did you get yourself a drink?” he asked, and she nodded.

  “Yeah, someone handed me a cup of beer. I don’t know where I left it, though,” she said and bit her lip.

  “We’ll arrange for another one, don’t worry,” Lance said, and before she could stop him, he was waving at somebody at the other end of the backyard.

  “Will you get us two beers, Jim?” Lance yelled across and the guy nodded and disappeared into the house. Margie blushed. This was not the kind of atmosphere she was used to. Lance Healy was the king of his castle, other people his groupies.

  “I could have gone and gotten myself one, he didn’t have to do that,” Margie said, and Lance placed a hand on her bare knee. She felt an electrical surge run down her spine.

  “Jim is responsible for the alcohol. It’s kinda like his job.” Lance laughed and withdrew his hand from her knee. Margie wasn’t sure how to react to that. Was she supposed to feel elated that Lance had that kind of a relationship with his friends? She was growing increasingly uncomfortable. Lance Healy in his natural habitat was a surprise, a mixture of all the things that she had not expected him to be. Arrogant, carefree, polite and sincere all at once.

  “So this is what frat parties look like?” Margie said, looking around her just as somebody flew into the pool with a splash. Lance laughed and nodded.

  “Yes, exactly. Sometimes even more fun,” he said, pointing and laughing at the guy who had jumped into the pool, crashing into the two girls.

  “So this is usually how you spend your Friday evenings?” Margie turned to ask him again. Lance was not looking at her anymore. He was yelling out friendly insults to his friends in the pool, and Margie tried to smile.

  Did he want to talk to her anymore?

  “So, I was asking…is this how you spend your Friday evenings usually?” She smiled sweetly at him, but he still hadn’t turned back to her.

  “Hey, Margie. Excuse me for a second there. I’ll be right back.” Lance suddenly stood up and ran over to the pool, stretching out his arm to one of the girls who was struggling to climb out.

  Margie watched as the girl grabbed on to his arm and Lance pulled. She fell on top of him, with Lance lying on the grass on his back. They were both laughing, and the girl was leaning over him, whispering into his ear.

  Margie had had enough. She didn’t know what Lance wanted from her, why he had suddenly started ignoring her, or why he was flirting with other women right in front of her.

  “Here’s your beer, princess.” She heard a voice and when she looked up, Jim, Lance’s friend with the alcohol, had turned up with two bottles.

  “I don’t want it, thanks,” she said, with her brows crossed, and stood up from the chair. Jim shrugged and turned away from her.

  Lance was still on the grass, his hands on the bare waist of the girl on top of him. She was wearing a skimpy pink two-piece and was straddling Lance as she sat over him.

  Margie turned on her heel and began to walk away, towards the house again. This was a bad idea. She should not have wanted to see Lance in his usual surroundings. This was who he was in reality, the rest of it was just a fantasy. What was she even thinking? She could feel the rage rising up in her throat. In just in a matter of minutes, everything had changed for her.

  “Hey! Margie! Where are you going?” She heard Lance’s voice
and she turned around to look at him. Her face was a bright red, she knew that already, but she made an effort to smile anyway.

  “Sorry, I have to go,” she said and waved at him. Lance pushed the girl from on top of him onto the grass and started to straighten himself up. Margie turned away and slid the glass doors open. She didn’t want to have to explain to him that she was jealous. That she thought he was interested in her, and it made her blood boil to watch him flirting with somebody else. What would he think of her if she told him that? Maybe the look on her face had already given her away.

  Margie was pushing through the stream of the crowd again, the claustrophobia rising in her. She couldn’t believe she had been so stupid. Claire was right all along, Lance was nothing more than someone taking advantage of her naivety.

  She felt an arm around her waist and, when she turned around, it was the same drunk guy who had directed her to the pool. He grabbed her and pressed her close to him.

  “Where are you going? Come dance with me,” he said, close to her face. His breath stank of beer and Margie moved her face away.

  “I don’t want to dance with you. Let me go.” She pushed against him, but his grip was strong. She didn’t know how she was going to escape him. She could feel his hands all over her and she felt like she was going to be sick.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing, Bryan? Let her go!” Lance’s voice thundered behind her and she felt the guy’s grip instantly loosen from around her.

  “Hey, you okay?” Lance touched her shoulder and Margie lunged at him, wrapping her arms around his waist and burying her face in his chest. That was her first instinct, to not let go of the man she was falling in love with.

  Chapter Four

  Lance had picked her up and was carrying her through the crowd. Before she even knew what was happening. Margie had her arms wrapped around him tightly as he traversed the crowd, light on his feet. They burst through the front doors of the house and Margie could finally breathe again.

  But then again, she was in the arms of Lance Healy, so not much breathing chance there. His arms were strong and muscular and he didn’t seem to be putting a whole lot of effort into carrying her.

  “I’m sorry you had to go through that,” he said, after several minutes of silence. She had no idea where he was carrying her to.

  “It’s alright. It was probably harmless, anyway,” Margie managed to say, even though she felt breathless in his arms. Their eyes locked. He was staring at her like he wanted to devour her.

  “Why were you running away, Margie?” He whispered, close to her ear, and she blushed. She interlaced her fingers together behind his neck as they made their way down the dark lanes of the campus. A few street lamps lit their path, but she still had no idea where they were going.

  “Were you running away from me?” he probed again, and she shook her head.

  “I was claustrophobic. I just wanted to get out of there,” she mumbled, and he suddenly put her down. She felt the trunk of a tree against her back as he pressed himself close to her.

  “Margie…” he muttered her name and bent his face towards her. She closed her eyes just as his lips enveloped hers. He pushed her to the tree trunk as she clutched his shoulders. They were kissing gently, and she could taste him now. His tongue was slowly pushing its way between her lips, making its way in. She could feel herself growing wet between her legs. Nobody had ever made her feel this way with just one kiss.

  Her nails dug into the flesh of his back as his hands found their way to her butt. He pulled her closer and they continued kissing. It was Lance who eventually pulled away.

  Margie giggled and their foreheads knocked. She had just kissed Lance Healy!

  “Lance…” she began to say as she felt his hand slowly trace the arch of her back. His other hand was running up her thigh now, approaching that warm, throbbing core of her that nobody had ever touched.

  “You should know…I’ve never…” she didn’t know what to say, but Lance pressed a finger to her lips and smiled.

  “That’s okay,” he whispered, and she breathed in sharply. His hand had found its way to her wetness. He was stroking it deftly, and she could feel her body quivering. It was a reaction she had not been prepared for.

  “We’ll take it slow.” His voice was hoarse and gruff. She could barely see him in the dark, but her eyes were adjusting to the moonlight now.

  Margie didn’t know what to do. Her instinctual reaction was to continue digging her nails into his back, but it only seemed to entice him more.

  “We need to get this off first,” he said, feeling for the zipper of her dress at the back. She bunched up the fabric of his T-shirt at the same time, tugging at it. She wanted to see him naked again. With one swift movement he had unzipped her dress and it fell quickly to the ground, around her ankles.

  Margie let go of him, reaching instinctively with her hands to cover her breasts. She was blushing, shy at the thought of allowing Lance Healy of all people to see her naked. She wasn’t sure what he would think of her.

  His eyes sparkled as he stared at her, and while keeping his focus on her he pulled his T-shirt up and over his head, eventually tossing it to the ground. Without a word, he reached for her hands, slowly pulling them away from her breasts. He ran his fingers gently along the lines of her lace bra. Margie could feel the goosebumps on the flesh of her arms and the back of her neck.

  “You’re beautiful, Margie. Let me see you,” he said, and reached around to unhook the bra. She felt another rush of cold air as her breasts were exposed in a flash.

  Lance reached for the straps and pulled them down her arms, and her breasts bounced slightly at the movement.

  Slowly, keeping his eyes on her face to study her reaction, he reached for her breasts. His hands hovered over them both. Margie couldn’t bear it anymore, her body was revolting against her. She pressed her eyes closed tightly just as she felt the sensation of a wet mouth around her right nipple. Lance was sucking on it, gently at first and then vigorously.

  Margie’s back arched without warning. She was thrusting her breasts towards him. She felt him draw away from her right nipple to her left, and a soft moan escaped her lips. He was taking his time with her.

  She wanted to feel him too, touch every inch of him. Her hands reached for his naked torso, feeling the chiseled muscles on his body till her fingers reached the top of his jeans. She could feel a smattering of fine hair which disappeared into his pants.

  She heard him laugh a little.

  “Getting a little ahead of yourself there,” he said, and Margie blushed. His hands were up her thighs now, slowly stroking her again. With every stroke of his finger, the feeling of wanting him inside her grew. She wasn’t afraid of it any more. She wanted to experience it, with nobody else other than Lance.

  Margie wasn’t bothered by his laughter, and allowed herself to unzip his pants and work on his belt. He helped her and then slowly eased his pants down.

  She hadn’t expected him to not be wearing underwear, although he probably hadn’t had time to change into fresh ones after the swim and in his rush to follow her.

  Instead a big, throbbing penis greeted her as he rolled his pants down. Never before had she wanted one inside her so badly. He grabbed her waist suddenly and pulled her closer to him. She could feel the squeaky wetness between her legs, she was ready to have him.

  “Margie…” he began to say, and she was the one who placed a finger on his lips this time.

  “I want this, Lance,” she said, and slowly started to peel down her panties. Lance watched her admiringly, as she stepped out of them and stood in front of him. He was holding his penis in his hands now, massaging it while looking at her naked body.

  “You’re even more beautiful than I imagined,” he said gruffly, and then with his other hand he pushed her against the tree trunk again. Lance fell on her, pressing his body to hers and they were kissing again. She didn’t know where to touch him, she thrust her tongue into his mo
uth as she felt him bunch up her hair in his hands.

  With his other hand he parted her legs. She thrust her hips into his, grinding herself against him. His penis felt hot and large against her thigh. He tightened his grip on her hair and pulled softly, just as she felt him push himself inside her.

  Margie gasped, not expecting the sensation to feel this overpowering. Lance was slow, watching her face as he gently pushed inside her, inch by inch. She was moaning now. She wanted him inside her completely, wanted him to reach that spot in her core that was aching to be stroked.

  “Lance!” She screamed out his name as he grabbed her waist, tugged her hair in his hands and gave a final thrust. He was inside her completely. She had wrapped one of her legs around his thighs to keep herself in place. Now her hold was weakening, and she could feel all her muscles relaxing.

  He was pulling out. A panic overcame her face. What was happening? She could feel him slide out of her, but just as she was about to scream at him to stop he had thrust inside her again. Margie moaned loudly, her butt crashing against the tree trunk with the weight of Lance against her. She dug her nails into his flesh deeper. She wanted to have all of him, all the time, deeper and deeper.

  Lance picked up speed. He was thrusting into her and then pulling out in a quick, successive motion. He grunted every time he pulled out and then pushed in a little deeper. Margie’s eyes rolled, her body was shaking and she was moaning louder than she would have wanted to. But there was no stopping them now. She was going to have her first orgasm.

  “Lance!” She screamed his name again, as he shuddered inside her hard. She could see that his body was glistening with sweat, and he was losing control too. It was time she gave in to what her body and mind really wanted. Margie tightened her leg around him as her thighs quivered. Her toes curled inside her shoes. She screamed out his name repeatedly and Lance was orgasming too. She could feel him oozing inside her and her body quivered more violently.

  Lance was grunting, his grip on her hair had come loose and now he was clutching her waist tightly. They were both moaning loudly, until their souls were finally satisfied.