Knocked Up By The Doc Box Set (A Secret Baby Romance)

by Claire Adams

  The woman looked down at a list and smiled. “Yes, I see two tickets, right here. Can I get your ID for a second? I do have to make sure they’re going to the right person.” Relief flooded through me as I dug my ID out of my wallet and handed it over.

  With our tickets in hand, Gigi and I went into the stadium, both of us getting more and more excited; I had looked at the tickets to try and figure out where we were sitting—what section, so we wouldn’t be wandering around forever. We found the part of the stands where our tickets had us and went through the gate to that area, and I looked around at the seat numbers. As we moved forward, and forward, closer and closer to the ice, I finally could see that the tickets that Johnny had had them hold for us were right behind the glass, right next to the area where the team would be. “Holy crap!” Georgia said as we sat down. She gave me a little grin.

  “They probably just have, like, a certain group of seats they can choose from,” I said, though my cheeks were already warming up. I would be able to see everything—and especially Johnny. When Georgia had mentioned we were going to the game that night to some of the other girls on our floor, they’d told us that Johnny played Left Wing, that he was one of—if not the—best players on the team. Angelina had been nearly green with envy at the fact that we’d gotten free tickets from one of the star players; she was a huge hockey fan, and the college’s team was one of the reasons she had chosen the school.

  We settled in to watch the game, and I looked out over the ice constantly, watching as the two teams came out and started warming up. My heart was pounding, and as soon as I saw Johnny, I knew I was grinning like an idiot. “We should have made a giant sign,” Georgia muttered to me as everyone around us cheered, elbowing me playfully.

  “Right,” I countered, “Because nothing says ‘date me’ like acting like an obsessed fan-girl.” Georgia laughed, and we were swept up in the excitement of the crowd and the action of the game.

  I really had very little idea of what was going on—and I felt a little bit guilty, more than once, that here I was, watching a game I didn’t even know anything about, when someone like Angelina would have given an arm—or at least a finger—to be there. But it was obvious to me as I watched that Johnny was a star for a reason: he was as tough on the ice as he was nice in person, fast and brutal pushing through other players, and I was barely even able to keep track of the puck as he raced from one end of the ice to the other with it, passing it with just a quick movement to one of the other members of his team or intercepting it from the other team. There were no actual fights, but it was easy for me to see how hockey had developed a reputation as a brutal sport—players jostling and shoving, knocking into each other. Even with pads, it was hard for me to imagine how any of them managed to escape unscathed.

  It almost hit me like a shock when the clock ticked down and the game was over. Our team had won by two points, and everyone in the crowd was cheering, a few people talking about what a great game it had been. Georgia and I were cocooned in sound, cheering ourselves, jumping up and down and laughing as everyone celebrated around us. “Come on,” Georgia told me quickly, as people started to filter out—the other side had started to leave almost immediately, less excited and enthusiastic due to their loss. “Let’s see if we can find him.”

  We somehow found our way to the locker room area and hovered outside, waiting with a dozen or so other people for the players to come out. I could still feel the jumpy, nervous, excited feeling bubbling up under my skin. I told myself that Johnny wouldn’t even notice me, that he’d come straight to me, that I shouldn’t be disappointed no matter what happened. He would react the way he would react, and just because he had said he would love it if I came to the game, it didn’t mean that he hadn’t said the same thing to a dozen other girls.

  Johnny came out, and I held my breath, not wanting to be the kind of girl who would make a fool of herself by screaming. A bunch of the people clustered around the locker room entrance moved in closer, and Johnny smiled, politely thanking them, shaking hands, accepting the attention. I saw him looking around, and I stood on the balls of my feet, wanting to stand out—but not willing to be more obvious. When he spotted me and came straight over, I felt my heart flip over in my chest.

  “Hey,” he said, his smile broadening as he approached; some of the other people who had been talking to him so excitedly half-followed, stopping a few feet away. “What did you think?” I could see the confidence in his eyes, in spite of the question.

  “You were great!” Georgia echoed my praise, adding that the game had been so exciting. For just a moment, it was as if there was no one else in the world, and I felt my cheeks burning as I looked up at Johnny.

  “I’m just glad I didn’t humiliate myself while you were watching,” Johnny said, and I rolled my eyes. I could tell that he never thought he might embarrass himself; he knew he was good. The rest of the players started to come out, dressed once more in their regular clothes or with the jackets Gigi and I had seen before, their hair wet from the showers, and Johnny raised his hand to acknowledge a loud call-out from one of them. “Do you feel up to hanging out for a while? The team and I were just going to chill for a bit, maybe get a beer.” I hesitated. I had a really early class the next day.

  “I wish I could,” I said, making a face to show how much I regretted it. Georgia elbowed me hard in the ribs, and I barely kept my face straight. “I’ve got a crazy-early class tomorrow, and I don’t want to be totally useless the first week of classes.” Johnny frowned, looking disappointed rather than angry or upset. My self-discipline wavered for a moment, but I just gave Johnny a sad smile and said that any other time, I’d love to hang out.

  Johnny brightened. “In that case, you have to promise me you’ll come out to the party this weekend.” I laughed and promised, and he left after giving me another quick smile, moving to catch up with his team.

  “Girl, you need to get your head checked,” Georgia said, as we headed out to one of the other exits. I rolled my eyes.

  “I think you bruised one of my ribs, by the way,” I said, giving her a pretend scowl. “And anyway, I don’t want to look too easy. I don’t want to be too accessible. If he wants me, he’ll have to work for it.” I said it confidently, turning my nose up a little bit and laughing, but deep down, I wished that I had gone for it. I wished that I was a little less responsible. I wished that I was a little more daring.

  Chapter Nine

  Friday night finally came, and as Georgia and I walked across campus, I felt like I might explode out of my own skin—I was so nervous and excited. I couldn’t walk fast enough—I almost wished that Georgia hadn’t talked me into the short, tight pencil skirt I was wearing, but I couldn’t deny that it looked sexy, especially with the heels she had convinced me to borrow to wear with it. If Johnny thought I was cute in jeans and a t-shirt, he wasn’t going to be able to resist me in this outfit.

  We could hear it raging from a block away, and for a moment I felt almost—not quite scared, but intimidated. It was obvious from the pounding music and the loud sound of shouting that there were a ton of people there. Johnny’s boast that his frat threw the best parties was probably well-founded. “How do I look?” I asked Gigi nervously as we got closer and closer.

  “Great. You look fab. Stop fidgeting!” I grinned, even though my heart was pounding in my chest and my mouth was more than a little dry.

  The frat house was crawling with people—the front yard had at least a dozen people milling around, drinking, joking, and dancing, some of them in frat-approved togas. As we went in, the heat and humidity hit me like a ton of bricks, and I immediately started looking for Johnny, trying to see him through the pounding bass and the knots and clusters of people. I was overwhelmed, thinking for just a moment that it would be impossible to find him.

  Georgia and I made it to the backyard, and finally I spotted him, standing off to the side, surrounded by a group of girls. I laughed, shaking my head. “Well, go over there,” Geo
rgia said when I pointed him out to her; the girls who were clustered around Johnny obviously were hanging on his every word, oblivious to anything else going on.

  “Ugh, I feel like such an idiot; of course he’s surrounded by girls. He’s never going to even know I’m here.”

  Georgia shook her head, giving me a nudge. “Have a little faith, will you?” As if on cue, Johnny looked up to glance around the yard, and I nearly jumped when his gaze fell on me. Immediately, he said something to the girls and gently pushed through their ranks, coming right over to Georgia and me with a huge grin on his face.

  “You made it out!” He hugged me, and then held me out at arm’s length, looking me up and down. “Becky, you’re going to kill me—promise me you’ll never wear anything this sexy to a game.” I laughed and shook my head. “Have either of you gotten anything to drink yet?” He glanced from me to Georgia, and we both agreed that we hadn’t. “Let me get you both something.” He gave me another quick hug, and Georgia looked at me as he left for a second before we both started laughing.

  Off to the side, away from the people having a good time, I saw the girl who had been talking to Johnny days before—the one who had been so into him, touching her hair and flirting as obviously as I’d ever seen any girl flirt in my life. She was looking me up and down with an expression of disgust on her face, as if she had just bitten down on the bitterest lemon in existence. I rolled my eyes and decided to ignore her, just as Johnny came back with two big red Solo cups.

  To my surprise, Johnny was almost as sweet and attentive to Georgia as he was to me—he asked her about her major and got to know her a little bit. Fortunately, Georgia had gone to the trouble of looking up information about hockey after I’d told her that my excuse for bringing her to the game was that she loved the sport, but his main focus somehow still managed to be on me, and as I sipped my drink I couldn’t help but feel a warm, tingly sensation working through me, knowing that all the girls wanted him—and he didn’t seem to see a single one.

  Georgia went inside to use the bathroom, getting directions from Johnny, and we talked about the game, about the first week of classes, and all the silly little things we could think of. I wondered to myself if I had any hope at all of getting him alone. When she came back a few minutes later, dripping with beer some drunk guy had spilled on her, I felt a little guilty; I really should have gone with her. But she told me she just wanted to get back to the dorms and change, that she’d be back soon, and everything was fine—so Johnny gave her a quick hug and told her not to miss the best part of the party.

  After she left, Johnny glanced around and leaned in close to me. “Do you like music?” he asked. I rolled my eyes, smiling a little.

  “Who doesn’t like music?” He grinned, and I tried not to tremble when he put his hand on the small of my back.

  “Come on, I want to show you something,” he said. He steered me through the crowd and up the long flight of stairs, explaining that all of the frat’s bedrooms were on the second and third floors of the huge house. He led me straight to his room, and I felt a little scared—after all, bad things could happen to girls in those rooms—but I started to relax when he pulled a guitar out of his closet and sat down on the bed, picking a few notes to check that it was in tune.

  I was more than a little surprised to discover that Johnny could really play—it wasn’t like some guys who only learn a few chords specifically to try and impress girls. He played a couple of songs I knew, and even played me one—absolutely, breathtakingly beautiful—that he said he’d written a couple of years before. Georgia texted me at one point, saying that she was just going to stay in the dorms, but if I needed her, she’d come back for me.

  Before I knew it, Johnny had put the guitar aside, and was lifting me up off of the chair I had stolen to watch him play, kissing me lightly on the lips. I felt like I had been waiting for that all night—all week—and as he deepened the kiss, his tongue sweeping across my lips, I opened my mouth and melted against him, wrapping my arms around his shoulders. My heart was pounding, and I could feel how hot I was, the way my inner muscles tightened reflexively as his hands began to wander over the curves of my body. It was both like and unlike how I had imagined it. Johnny’s big, strong hands slipping along my waist, down to my hips, cupping the cheeks of my ass for a moment to give me a quick squeeze before they moved up to my breasts.

  He lifted me up onto his bed and covered my body with his, and I could feel myself getting more and more turned on; Johnny’s lips left mine and moved down along my jaw to the column of my throat and little hot, electric jolts shot through me, making me tingle everywhere. I couldn’t deny that I wanted him more and more as we made out, touching each other, exploring each other’s body through the fabric of our clothes. I shivered as Johnny nipped playfully at the pulse point just below my ear, and I heard him chuckle.

  When I felt his hand slipping up along my inner thighs, gliding underneath my skirt to touch me through my panties, I froze. “H-hey,” I said, panting slightly, pulling back from his hungry kisses. “Could we take it—a little slow? I’m sorry, I just…” Johnny stopped, withdrawing his hand, looking down at me with concern on his face.

  “No—yeah, absolutely. I’m not going to push you to do anything you don’t want to,” he said. He kissed me again, his touches oddly respectful as we both moved back into making out with each other. I almost wanted to cry; he was so much sweeter than any guy I had ever been with. I squirmed and writhed underneath him, my body getting hotter, my pussy soaking wet. To hell with going slow, I thought. The fact that Johnny had actually stopped, that he wasn’t trying to push me to change my mind, had actually made me change my mind—all I could think of was how much I wanted him.

  I pulled back from the kiss again, but this time I didn’t tell him to stop or even slow down. “Okay, I’ve changed my mind,” I said, panting, my head spinning with the intense desire I felt. “No more going slow, not right now.” I reached down and pawed at Johnny’s pants, and he chuckled, reaching down and pulling my blouse off. I hadn’t even noticed that it had managed to move up along my skin, almost exposing my breasts in my bra already.

  In moments, our clothes fell away, and I was touching him—wrapping my hand around his cock and stroking slowly. Johnny was thicker than I had imagined, not quite as long, but plenty long enough, and I licked my lips, moaning softly as he reached up between my legs once more. He pulled my panties down, the last barrier between our bodies, and I shivered at the feeling of his fingers touching me. Johnny’s fingers slipped and slid between my labia, finding my clit, and I moaned, pushing my hips down, gripping him tighter in my hand as he began to rub and stroke me. “You’re sure you want this,” Johnny said, somewhere between a statement and a question. I nodded, thinking that there was absolutely nothing I wanted more.

  Johnny slipped down along my body, his hips shifting between my legs, and I let go of him, my hands moving to his shoulders, my arms wrapping around him. “Any time you want me to stop, just tell me, and I will,” Johnny murmured, brushing his lips against mine. I felt his hard, hot cock slipping and sliding along my soaking wet folds as he rocked his hips, rubbing up against me constantly. “Any time, you get me?”

  I nodded, breathless, full of desire. “Yeah—don’t stop,” I said, smiling slightly. Johnny guided himself up against me, and then he thrust up into me slowly, his thick, hard cock pushing past the resistance of my body inch by inch. I moaned out, grabbing at his shoulders desperately, my eyes falling closed and my head tilting back. “Don’t—don’t stop, please,” I said again. I felt Johnny’s lips curving in a smile as he pushed into me deeper and deeper, taking his time.

  Finally, his hips were flush against mine, and we both paused, struggling to catch our breath. He began to move inside of me, slowly at first, and every movement sent tingling, electric jolts of pleasure through my body. “God, Becky,” Johnny said, half-moaning as he brought his lips down onto mine again. “You feel so good—so fucking
good.” I nodded, not even able to speak, only able to kiss him, to grip his shoulders as hard as I possibly could, to wrap my legs around him and push my hips down to meet his thrusts.

  We moved together, and every time Johnny pushed up deeper inside of me, I felt myself getting more and more turned on, closer and closer to orgasm. I couldn’t even hear the sounds of the party raging downstairs anymore, only the sounds of our moans and gasps and panting breaths, the sound of our bodies moving together with wet, slapping, sucking noises. Johnny reached down between our bodies, and I cried out as he began to stroke and rub my clit again, keeping time with his thrusts.

  In a matter of moments—I certainly didn’t know how long it had been—I hit my climax, my fingernails digging into Johnny’s shoulders, my legs tightening around him, my whole body awash in wave after wave of pleasure. I was barely even aware of him groaning as he reached his own orgasm, but everything in my body tingled as we kept moving together until we simply couldn’t anymore, until I felt his weight against me when he collapsed, both of us panting.

  The next morning, I shivered as I awakened, something ticklish brushing along the back of my neck; for just a second I was confused, disoriented—with no idea where I was. But the night before came flooding back in the next instant, and I smiled to myself, remembering how I had ended up in Johnny’s bed, how we had gone from me asking him to slow down, to me almost begging him to hurry up. I could still feel the ache deep down in my hips, the tenderness where he’d pushed up into me.