Quarterback's Surprise Baby (Bad Boy Ballers Book 2)

by Imani King

  20

  Nicholas

  Adisa asks me to go to her house for dinner, so I follow them home, happy to see that she seems to be enjoying the BMW that we are calling a 'company car' for the moment. But what was even more fun, if I'm honest, was watching her walk to the car. The woman is like a goddess. Her hips, her ass, her legs, all measure up to one extraordinarily beautiful creature in my eyes, and as luck would have it, she also has a beautiful mind. But that's not exactly what I'm thinking about as I try not to get distracted driving home with the image of her body in my mind. I don't want to get rear-ended, but what a rear end she has.

  I hope she really has forgiven me as far as the this situation with her father's care goes. Seems like she has. If she and I were married we wouldn’t have to argue about this sort of thing. I wonder if that might happen one day. My mind drifts off to imagine her in a wedding dress, luscious lips mouthing the words “I do,” driving me wild.

  After she pulls into her driveway, I see a neighbor looking through her curtain at Adisa, before shutting her curtain with a little flash. It brings me back to reality; in this neighborhood it's not so often that you see a car like mine, so I decide to just take my car up the street a little bit and walk back to her house. It's difficult when you realize that your best intentions can cause complications in another person's life, but it seems that I am beginning to run into that issue with Adisa. I guess no matter how much you might care about someone, there's always that doubt that you aren't sincere.

  But I do feel more for her every time I see her, and especially when I watch the way she lives, how she deals with a situation that has been thrust upon her.

  She's my new favorite person. I hope I can become hers... without causing her additional heartache and turmoil along the way.

  I get to her door and ring the bell. Even after such a short time, seeing her takes my breath away. She's so beautiful,her soft lips, her cute nose, lovely warm brown eyes and glowing mocha skin. The way her hair curls and she pushes it out of her face, and it springs back right where it was. The smile that stretches across her face, and the little edge of pain in her eyes that makes me want to hold her and soothe it all away.

  "Come on in," she smiles. "I didn't know where you had gotten to!"

  "I just parked a little down the street, because I saw one of your neighbors looking out their window, and I didn't want to add to the gossip."

  Her face darkens for a moment. "Yeah, I get that. I can't say that the BMW hasn't ruffled a few feathers in the school group either. Ah well." She closes the door behind me and again I am welcomed by the warmth and comfort of their home. The lighting, the cozy blankets thrown over-stuffed couches. The kids laughing in front of the TV as she leads me into the kitchen where she is chopping some vegetables.

  "Mmmm," I say. "What are you making and can I help?"

  "Well well, how are you in the kitchen?" Her dark mood dissipated, she is playful now.

  "I know my way around a little," I say with false bravado. "Well actually I'm pretty terrible. But I'm willing to learn!"

  She laughs. "Ok then, how about chopping these carrots?"

  She shows me how she wants them done, and I love to see her hands move so gracefully at the cutting board. I can't help myself, with her standing so close to me, and I let my hand graze the small of her back as she chops. Her hands soon falter, and she lays the knife down and turns to me slightly. I gather her up in my arms, freeing one hand to brush her hair out of her face, and touch her soft cheek with my thumb. Her lip trembles slightly as I lean in, and as her eyes close our lips meet, and we stay still for a moment, both enraptured by the incredible softness, the sweetness of feeling close and connected, the depth of the feeling. But before long our kiss deepens and her hands are in my hair, and I can feel the curve of her soft body as my arms hold her tighter.

  When we finally pull away from each other we are breathless and all I want to do is carry her upstairs to the bedroom and make her mine again and again.

  "We should probably finish dinner," she murmurs.

  "I know," I say, and give her a lopsided grin. "But you are the most beautiful woman in the world, and I'm finding it really hard to keep my hands off you."

  She looks away suddenly, her smile huge. "I know how it feels," she admits. "Let's get this dinner done and I'll put the kids to bed, and we can have some alone time."

  "That sounds perfect. Let's get this show on the road!" I’m tingling inside, from hearing that she feels the same as I do.

  We start to work like a team, both of us wanting to clear the obstacles that stand between us having more of that precious uninterrupted time together, and before long dinner is on the table and the kids are happily munching, none the wiser. I think. Of course there have been a few knowing looks from Darius, but nothing said out loud.

  When Adisa goes upstairs to put the kids to bed, I settle down on the couch with a cup of tea. Under the coffee table on a little glass shelf lies a photo album, and I decide to flip through it. Inside I see an elegant woman who more than likely must be her mother. The old Polaroid photography shows a young and stunningly beautiful woman, very much like Adisa, but in a kind of late 80's low cut flowing pantsuit with shoulder pads, and her dad looking ridiculously cool in his fade haircut, thin lapels and black tie. It's hard to imagine that the man he is now is the same sharp man appearing in this photograph, but it is easy to see how the love between him and Adisa's mom was something legendary. The way he looks at her in the photos, the fact that they are always in contact, always touching,

  No wonder there's so much to her character, coming from a family and a set of parents like this. It’s rich ground for a person’s personality to see this kind of love every day.

  Just then she pops her head in the door. "Little ones are in bed." She catches sight of the photo album and squeals. "Oh Lord I forgot that was there!" she cries. She runs and plops down next to me on the sofa. "I’m so embarrassed! What have you seen?"

  She looks mortified, but so far I haven't seen any pictures of her. Just her parents and their cars, standing proudly in front of a house, inside the house with cocktails in hand, sitting at a table laughing and touching.

  I hold the book away from her reaching hands. "Is there something in here I shouldn't see?"

  She's laughing. "Just my awkward ages, from let's say, age 5 to 15!"

  I'm overcome with laughter and softened by a warm feeling of love. I put the arm that's not holding the photo album around her as she reaches for the book. I hand it to her and pull her to me so our faces are aligned. I can feel the heat between us and I'm already getting hard just looking at her, gently holding the side of her waist in my hand.

  She stills, and drops the album on the couch. It's forgotten now -- all that I can think of is the way her lips, gently parted, shining, would feel against my mouth. She surprises me then, and kisses me first, with an insistence I can feel down to my feet, and then pulls away. I guess she may have surprised herself too.

  "That was nice," I grin. "How 'bout another?" I start to say, but before I can finish the sentence, she's back in my arms, hands running down my body, kissing me furiously. "Adisa..." I murmur, in between kisses. "You're so beautiful."

  "Nicholas," she breathes. Her hand reaches down to my belt buckle and before I know it I can hear it clanging open. She pulls down my pants, and slides down to kneel in front of me on the sofa. It's almost like I am paralyzed with desire, my cock harder and thicker than it's ever been. She looks up at me with her doe eyes, before taking it in her hands, causing me to shudder with pleasure, and then leisurely licking the swollen tip.

  "Oh Adisa..." I'm struggling with the dual drives to lean back on the couch and not to lose eye contact with her. She's so beautiful and seeing her wrap her beautiful lips around my cock, is something that I only allowed myself to imagine when I couldn't help it. To have it happening in real life is making me want to bust right now, but I also want to feel every moment of what she’s doing t
o me. And what's more, there's an equally strong desire in me to kiss and lick her until she squeals.

  Her head gently bobs up and down as her hands sweetly and skillfully massage my thighs as her tongue encircles me, making me quiver and shake with pleasure. Her lips give me untold delight, the softness of her mouth on the heat of my cock unbearably thrilling.

  An involuntary moan escapes my lips. She's drawing all this pleasure from my core as she licks and sucks my length. It was never this way with Stephanie... never this way with anybody. Adisa's mouth is the holy grail to me. I know I love kissing her, and having her tongue around me is almost more than I can bear. I want her so badly, I want to stop her, and return the favor, or plunge myself inside her warmth, but I am powerless to do anything. She's got me hypnotized with the long slow strokes of her wet tongue. Before long I can't take it anymore and I feel the pleasure and tension building, building until I’m about to finally explode. I manage to whisper, “Adisa, I’m coming,” and then writhe and convulse in the throes of orgasm, not wanting to be too loud in case the kids might awaken.

  She looks up at me, eyes almost catlike, smiling, as she delicately wipes her mouth. Then she grabs a box of tissues from the side table and passes them to me. "Here," she says gently.

  I take them, lay them over the opalescent drops that decorate my stomach, but then collapse again. I feel like I’m still coming, the excitement so strong that it takes a while to fully disperse. I can hardly stop writhing, until finally I have the energy to extend my hand out to her, to pull her to me.

  "You're exquisite," I say as she snuggles up beside me and kisses my neck. "That was amazing. The best."

  "You're amazing," she says, getting even closer. I know that she probably wants and needs some release too, and if I’m honest, there's nothing I want to do more than give it to her any way she likes. I just need another minute to get back my energy.

  "Adisa, Adisa," I whisper into her hair, breathing in her scent, filling my nose with it. "I love being with you," I say softly. I want to tell her I love her, but I don't want to overwhelm her. I'd rather just show it. As my energy returns, I lean over and kiss her, softly and deeply. Then I let my mouth trace down the side of her cheek and to her neck, the vulnerability of her throat turning me on. Am I getting hard again? Is it possible?

  I love her body. No, I worship her body. I pour my adoration through my kisses down her neck, and pull her shirt a little to the side to expose the tops of her tender breasts, licking and sucking the skin.

  My hand encircles the swell of her breast and I run my thumb over the hardening nub. Her breathing is getting harder, more urgent, and I pinch the nipple from over her shirt, and she bucks a little in response. That's it, I need to see her naked. I pull the shirt over her head and her beauty is further revealed in a soft black lacy bra, which I admire for a moment before reaching around to undo the clasp.

  Her breasts bounce and settle as I take off the bra, and her womanly shape drives me wild. I want her so badly, but before I take her, I want to tease her -- to make her feel as much pleasure as I can give. I trail my lips along her silky skin, before taking the dark nipples in my mouth, one at a time, and sucking and licking them as her hands tangle in my hair. She makes sweet sounds as I kiss her -- gentle, high, and urgent. I reach down to undo her jeans and she reaches around to help me slide them off. Quickly forgotten they fall off off the sofa into a puddle on the floor, and my hand slips under her lacy thong to her tender folds. She feels hot, wet, and unbelievably welcoming. I kiss down the curve of her stomach before parting her legs, and stroking her soft warmth with a single finger. Then I enter her gently, as my lips and tongue press into her clit, continuing to suck and lick at the core of her. Her femininity makes my cock jump, and as I kiss and lick her, I get harder and harder at the thought of us coming together again.

  She's almost squealing now, but quietly, breathing ragged. I steadily enter her with two fingers, sliding in and out of her wetness, as I lap up her juices. She couldn’t be more enticing than she is at this moment -- sweaty, shaking, wrapping her legs around my head and letting them fall apart as I lick and suck her. Her taste is amazing, and she feels incredible. Her hands get wilder as her voice crescendos and she grasps my hair and thrusts into me. Then the telltale contractions make me wild and I try to make her peak last as long as I can.

  When she finally stops moving, I climb up to her and kiss her all over, her breathing subsiding. I can feel my cock, rock hard, press against her tenderness and before I know it she guides me inside her, and we both buck and glide, staring into each other’s eyes, in our own world. We move in sync until I can feel her peaking again, and her warmth wraps around me, the gentle pulses putting me over the edge. We cry out together and don’t stop moving until we are satisfied once more.

  “I love you,” I finally say, breaking the silence, the stillness. It’s a whisper, so quiet I imagine she won’t hear, but I have to tell her. The feeling is as clear as day, and I want to let her know, to make her see just how strongly I feel about her. How I want to hold her in my arms forever.

  “I love you too. Nicholas,” She breathes.

  “Oh Adisa.” I cover her face with small kisses, savoring the feel of her soft skin, the smell of her hair, her closeness. The sound of her voice alone drives me wild, but hearing those words from her fills my soul in a way that I never knew it could be.

  She pulls an afghan down from the back of the couch and covers us gently. We lay there for a long time, eyes closed, savoring the sweetness of just being together, being at peace. I listen to hear breathing, and mine unconsciously syncs with hers. I wonder if our heartbeats sync as well. I can feel her fingers trace my arm, back and forth, sending shivers down my spine.

  I can honestly say I have never felt this way before. And god is it good.

  "How was your dad doing today?" I ask softly, realizing we never talked about it.

  She looks up at me, such warmth in her eyes. "He's getting better. Getting stronger. Can I tell you something funny?"

  "Sure." I caress her waist, and wait for her to speak. “Funny strange, or funny haha?”

  "Well, as you would say, I don’t rightly know. I’m not sure how to say this, but he thinks he saw my mother during his operation. I guess he had one of those what do they call them… near-death experiences, and he's come out of it convinced that he spoke with her." Her brow wrinkles a bit. "But the truly amazing thing about it is, it seems to have brought back some of his strength. I think because he loved my mom so much, he wanted to... I dunno, join her." She looks at me like she is assessing whether I think she's crazy or not. “And she told him no, that she wants him to live.” She wipes her eye. “I guess she wants him to take care of their kids, me and the little ones. But I think knowing that he might have something to look forward at the end of his life, seeing her, has made him more ready to face the world again.

  "That's kind of… well, really beautiful," I say, and kiss her gently. "He loves her so much. It was obvious in the photos even, the way he looked at her, and the way they were always touching each other."

  "Yeah," she says and snuggles up closer to me. “That’s the kind of relationship that I want to have,” she muses, and then quickly looks at me, perhaps afraid she’s said too much.

  “Me too, Adisa,” I whisper as I tighten my arm around her and kiss her soft skin again.

  We lay there a little longer and savor the time together.

  21

  Adisa

  I wake up, bleary eyed and groggy, not sure where I am at first. Then my eyes clear a little, and I recognize the afghan on the living room couch, and as I move, I feel arms circled around my waist.

  "Where you going, baby?" I hear. Nicholas' voice. Oh God, he's gotta get outta here! We must have fallen asleep after our love fest last night. The little ones don’t need to see this. I don’t need to be answering any questions at this point.

  "Nicholas, wake up!" I hiss. "You have to wake up, you have to get out
of here, the kids are going to be up any second."

  I frantically pull my shirt on and grab his pants from the coffee table. He blinks a few times when I throw them to him, and they drop near his feet.

  "What's going on?" He says, rubbing his eyes.

  "Nothing! Just you have to go." I gesture to the door, frantic, but he doesn’t seem too responsive.

  "Ok," he says, but instead of getting moving, he leans back on the couch. "Just five more minutes," he mumbles.

  Despite my worry, I have to take a second to admire just how adorably gorgeous he is. The way you can see the lines of his muscles through his shirt, his forearms, veiny and a little tanned, his blue eyes crinkled behind dark eyelashes, the ruffled hair.

  "Seriously, Nicholas, unless you want to explain our thing to my brother and sister... and eventually my dad." I say, emphasizing the last part. Looking in the reflection of the television, I try to tamp my hair down a bit, but I'm sure it's a mess.

  "Is that what this is about?" He says, suddenly opening his eyes.

  "Well, yeah!" Doesn't he realize what that means?

  "In that case," he pulls the afghan back over him, "I can go back to sleep." But he grins as he says it, and his eyes gleam with love.

  "What do you mean?" I get up and sit next to him.

  He grabs my hand and squeezes it softly. "Adisa, I hope you understand I plan on being here with you for the long haul. If you'll have me."

  "Really?" Jamal never said anything like this. Never ever. "Do you mean that?"

  "I've meant everything I've ever said to you," he assures me, before pulling me toward him. "Baby, I love you," he whispers. So it wasn’t just pillow talk last night. It wasn’t sex feelings, but maybe it’s deeper than that.

  "Oh Nicholas," I say. "I love you too."