Bad Boy's Bridesmaid

by Sosie Frost

  “I don’t think that’s really you.”

  “Yes, you do, or you wouldn’t have stripped for me.”

  “Jack—”

  “We almost fucked, Leah.”

  “Yeah, well, sorry my notch in your bedpost buffs right out.”

  “Don’t apologize to me.” I licked my lip just to watch her squirm. “You missed out on the fucking of a lifetime. Hope you don’t lose too much sleep regretting it.”

  “I take solace in the fact that I’m saving ten bucks on a box of condoms,” she said.

  “Where I come from, the gentleman buys.” I winked. “I even get them ribbed for her pleasure.”

  “Oh, remind me to list that act of charity in your next puff piece,” Leah said. “Compassionate Manwhore Says You Bring The Wine, I’ll Grab The lube.”

  “Got news for you, Kiss…you didn’t need any lube.”

  She shifted, uncomfortable and unable to deny just how wet and ready I made her. “Well…now that you respect me that much more as your publicist, maybe you’ll be more inclined to look favorably on our next organized outing.”

  “Where?”

  “The ballet.”

  “Absolutely not.”

  She sighed. “It’s a cultural event. A lot of local celebrities are going to the opening.”

  “Then no one will notice I’m not there.”

  “It’s important.”

  I grunted. “It’s not. This isn’t working, Kiss! These dates don’t do a damn thing.”

  She didn’t like the criticism. That was fine. I didn’t like blue balls.

  “We did the baseball game,” Leah said. “People liked that. We were on the jumbotron between innings. Everyone saw the local football hero wearing a baseball jersey, supporting the other professional teams in the city while out with his girlfriend. That’s a good start. It’s building a narrative.”

  “You didn’t even kiss me back when the monitor drew a heart around us.”

  She shrugged. “I got nervous.”

  “Bullshit, you organized it,” I said. “Goddamn it. I’m so hard up on you I’m trying to score on a fucking kiss cam.”

  “It’s not a good idea, Jack.” She exhaled and avoided my gaze. “Especially now.”

  I recognized that tone. Learned to hate it. “What happened?”

  “There’s a story coming out tomorrow about Bryon and his arrest.”

  It was a sore spot between us. She thought he was bad news. So did I, but he was still my best friend and threw one hell of a party.

  “They let him go,” I said. “No evidence.”

  “Yeah…but it’s a whole article about professional misbehavior and league liability.” She frowned. “You’re their lead example.”

  “Mother fuckers.”

  “I tried to contact the writer. He won’t return my calls. We need to do something about this before you’re labeled a sexual predator.”

  “How do you know I’m not?”

  “Maybe you are.”

  “Then run away little girl. Before I finally catch you.”

  She didn’t want to play. Too bad.

  “We’ve gotta make a plan tonight, Jack. I’ll buy us a pizza if I can come over?”

  “You sure you wanna risk it? Last time you were there, you ended up naked and coming all over my couch.”

  Her voice edged, a little kitten striking out with claws. “Yeah, I’ll try to contain myself.”

  “Left a nice little wet spot too.”

  “Jack.”

  “You have any idea how sexy you are when you’re riding my tongue and getting yourself off?”

  “Sexier than you can handle.”

  “Not my first rodeo, Kiss. I’ve held you. Kissed you. Tasted you. Only one thing left to do now. Take a guess what it is.”

  She stalked away, and I loved to see her pissed off, especially if it was the only passion I could get from her. It felt nice to get under her lovely skin again.

  “Seven tonight, Kiss,” I warned. “Better be prepared.”

  ***

  My pool was a good place to relax after practice. I needed to get more reps in, and the water comforted my bruised body. It took work to get in my shape. I built my pool specifically to help me train once my body gave out after a day of practice and working out. That was when I had to push it the most.

  Breathe.

  My arms cut through the water.

  Stroke.

  Not even the chill of the pool could dull the pounding in my cock. My body wasn’t streamlined at the moment, and nothing I did would rid me of the fucking hard-on. Seeing Leah, pissing her off, inviting her to the couch where I almost fucked her into oblivion? It wouldn’t calm me down.

  I was that close.

  Breathe.

  What was wrong with me? I needed her. I wanted her.

  Stroke.

  I had more important worries than when I’d finally have her lips wrapped around my cock. The Rivets hadn’t called my agent for contract negotiations. I expected an extension before training camp started. A good fucking contract. Hundred million dollars or more.

  Breathe.

  They didn’t call. No one in the organization had a goddamned thing to say about it.

  For the first time since I was drafted, I had the muzzle on and an empty bed. I was a good boy, but the Rivets were still as concerned about my behavior as the fucking league president. Christ only knew what Frank Bennett told them, and it wasn’t good.

  Stroke.

  If I didn’t get signed this year, it wouldn’t just be an insult—it’d be the end of my career. Only two years in and I was fucked beyond repair.

  But If I didn’t get laid, none of it would matter. My cock would fucking explode before I could negotiate my signing bonus. Not sure a eunuch could make it in the league.

  Breathe.

  I hit the end of the pool and surfaced to study a pair of delicate and sleek cocoa legs slipping beneath the ripples. Leah dropped her laptop and purse on a lounge chair, and she wrapped her skirt a little higher on her thighs. She kicked her perfectly painted toes in the water.

  “Hey.” Her voice was soft. She knew she got caught where she didn’t belong. “Hope you don’t mind me crashing your pool. It’s really hot out here this evening.”

  And now the water fucking boiled.

  I shook my head, dragging a hand through my wet hair. Leah recognized my smirk.

  “Anything for my little woman.”

  “Jack.”

  “Mrs. Carson.”

  Leah exhaled. “I knew this was a bad idea. I should have just called.”

  “Probably.”

  “I thought we could be adults.”

  I glanced at those toned, dark legs. I didn’t let her get away. I grabbed her toes under the water and tickled. She cracked a smile before she could scold me.

  “Last time I had you here, we did a very adult thing,” I said.

  Leah cleared her throat. She tried to stand. I didn’t let her up. Instead, I spread her legs and moved between them. She squealed, covering the crest between her legs with a frantic hand stuffed in her skirt. Didn’t matter to me. I remembered what was there, how it looked, tasted, felt against my lips.

  I had to feel it again.

  “Jack, what are you doing?” Her breath teased me with the tiniest of gasps. Not fear. Not worry.

  Lust.

  “You know damn well what I’m doing.” I tugged her legs wider apart. “Do you have any fucking idea what you do to me?”

  “Apparently I turn you into a beast. Let me go.”

  I grinned and pulled her leg up. The water lapped low against my trunks. It covered my cock, but not by much. I kissed her toes, her heel, the sensitive arch.

  “Jack, let me go.”

  “Why?”

  Her brow furrowed, but her words clipped as I sucked on her toe. “I don’t need to give you a reason.”

  “I want one.”

  “I said no.”

  “You’re a
fraid you’ll like this.”

  Leah swallowed. “We can’t do this, Jack.”

  “I’m not doing anything,” I said. “Just kissing you a little.”

  “That’s exactly what I mean.”

  “You don’t want to be kissed?” I teased further up her leg. I thanked whatever fertility god blessed the pool with cold water. It kept me from exploding with those curves so near my fingertips. “You know my reputation better than anyone. Am I known as a generous lover?”

  My tongue flicked behind her knee. She shivered.

  “I doubt you’ve ever thought of anyone but yourself,” she said.

  “Ouch.” I nipped her inner-thigh as a punishment. “I’ll have you know, I’ve been thinking only of you these past few days.”

  “I’m supposed to believe that?” Her words shuddered as I edged closer, resting her other leg on my shoulders. Her skirt bumped high enough for a peek of her panties.

  Pink today.

  Innocent.

  Fucking sexy.

  She stared at me, meeting my gaze as I kissed slower, lower, drifting towards a part of her that watered my mouth. I fisted my cock twice a day just in memory of her taste. Now there she was. Waiting. Trembling.

  Wetter than me, and I was in the pool.

  “You’ve only been thinking of how to get me into bed,” she said.

  “Not just the bed. The floor. Against the wall. Over the arm of the couch.”

  “Jack—”

  “I want to watch you come.”

  “W—what?”

  I pushed her legs apart, breathing heavy against her warm flesh. She panicked against her own desire.

  “I want to watch you come. Once wasn’t enough, Kiss. Twice won’t be enough. If I had it my way, I’d leave you naked and writhing on my bed from now until we both passed out from exhaustion. Then I’d wake you up just so I could taste that sweet cream of yours again. You get me?”

  “I…I can’t.”

  “You can’t come?” My grin wasn’t meant to reassure her. I gave her fair warning before she was about to get devoured. “Sure, you can, Kiss. You’ll come hard the instant I slide my tongue over that little clit. I’ll suck on it a bit, make you purr. Lap up all that honey inside you until you scream my name and I forgive you for rejecting me.”

  “Jack—”

  “I want to make you come. I want to hear you thank me with a moan. I want to taste your pleasure. And I want to own this little pussy’s every quivering pulse. You get it yet?” My fingers dug into her thighs. “And you’re gonna let me because you know damn well it’s all you’ve thought about too.”

  Her legs fell open for me. Those pink panties were in my way. I’d have bitten through them if I wasn’t worried I’d accidentally nip what I planned to worship, sink into, grind against in a moment of pure ecstasy.

  My cock hardened until it threatened to rupture. No time to drag the material away. I pushed it to the side with a quick flick of my fingers, exposing the delicate little crest.

  Leah held her breath before I sunk between her legs.

  She released it in a surprised gasp the instant my tongue whipped against her clit. I took every last fold and petal within my mouth and savored the part of her I wanted only to taste and touch and fuck until we collapsed.

  She didn’t need teased, and I waited too long to eat her again. My lips curled over her clit, and I suckled just the way I did before, just to hear that throaty groan turn to utter panic at the rush of sensation and excitement and pleasure. Her bastard fiancé never made her feel like this. Even better, I knew her fingers couldn’t replicate this feeling when she thought of me alone in bed at night.

  Leah’s head fell back. Her hips angled up. Now I knew why she was so desperate to stay out of my arms. She knew the instant I grabbed her would be the moment I never let her go. Not until she fucking melted into a puddle of spent orgasm and slid from my arms.

  And even then, it just made her easier to fuck.

  I liked my women exhausted. Panting. Agonized. But I never got a chance to destroy one in pleasure before. I never wanted to, never enjoyed it before Leah.

  But I could watch this woman writhe all afternoon. I’d work her gasping breath and boiling core into a frenzy, and then I’d let her crumple while I wrapped her legs around her. I planned to fuck this woman delirious with her own desire.

  A night of continuous pleasure.

  A cock buried inside a clenching, dripping, begging pussy.

  Watching as Leah came and came and came against me.

  Fuck, why the hell did I work my entire life for a championship when the only goddamned thing I wanted was to give this woman the ultimate delight of my tongue flicking against her clit?

  “Jack…” Her fingers ran through her hair, gripped the cement, reached for me. Nothing would ease that need in her. One orgasm or a hundred, it wouldn’t matter when the girl wanted to be fucked and fucked hard. “I’m…I’m…”

  She didn’t have to say it. I felt it. The tensing of her body, the clenching of that perfect pussy over my tongue. She whispered my name, but it sounded louder in my head than when they announced me entering the stadium on game day.

  Leah arched and bucked and exploded for me, on me, because of me, and nothing in my life looked more beautiful than that woman enjoying the gift I gave her.

  She sunk to the cement, resting against the warmed concrete and letting her legs fall wide.

  She was mine.

  “Jack, God...”

  Wasn’t the first time I was compared to a deity. Wouldn’t be the last either.

  Enough of this bullshit. I had no contract extension. Articles were going to run labeling me some sort of sexual predator.

  Fuck it.

  Why not get one good thing tonight?

  I hauled myself out of the pool, stopping only to gather Leah in my arms. I was soaking wet, and she murmured about her clothes, but they wouldn’t stay on her long enough to matter.

  I busted through my living room, tracking water over the carpet. I’d rip it up and buy a new one, I didn’t care. Leah whispered a protest. Hell no. I wasn’t letting her cool off.

  I stopped where we were, lifted her in my arms, and took another kiss—deep and hot and promising so much more than a simple orgasm delivered poolside.

  Leah moaned, gripping me tight.

  I was in.

  I had her.

  I steadied her over my couch. The TV blasted loud. The remote hid somewhere, fuck if I knew. I’d ignore it…

  …But the sports channel I watched said my name.

  Like a moth to the goddamned bug zapper, I was drawn to my own destruction.

  “…No amount of talent is worth it. Jack Carson would be one-hundred million dollars’ worth of trouble.”

  Sons of bitches. I knew the anchor—Ainsley Ruport, some silver-haired douchebag who never stepped onto a field but thought he could play quarterback better than me. I threatened a lot of reporters. Only one deserved the punch, and I was pissed I never got the chance to crush his nose in.

  Leah’s tongue flicked over mine. I tried to focus on her, but the insults kept coming.

  “…With the new morality and behavioral clauses in contracts, no team will risk a fine for a player who refuses to put the team first…”

  My fingers tightened on Leah. A photo from the championship game appeared on the screen—the confetti dropping over the podium as quarterback Tim Morgan hoisted the trophy that should have been mine.

  “Morgan’s got a solid head on his shoulders, and he should be expecting a significant bonus and extension to his contract.”

  Bullshit. Tim Morgan had more whores in his closet than skeletons. No way that bastard was the pretty boy favorite now?

  The picture changed. He held the trophy and his year old daughter on the podium. Christ only knew who he knocked up, but there he was. Brandishing the kid. Changing hearts and minds.

  The press loved the baby more than the trophy.

 
“…This new father really turned his life around and made strides to mature and represent his team…”

  What the hell did being a father have to do with being a good quarterback?

  Fucking nothing.

  But they coo’ed over the goddamned baby pictures as if the kid were the starting quarterback instead of Tim.

  The idea crashed into my head, so sudden and fucking perfect I dropped Leah on the couch only to turn the volume up.

  “Jack?” Leah straightened her skirt, confused.

  I didn’t take my eyes from the TV, my grin growing by the second.

  “I just solved our PR problem, Kiss.”

  “You did?”

  “I know exactly how to win over the league.”

  She sat up straighter, glancing from me to the TV. “How?”

  “I wanna make a baby.”

  Chapter Seven – Leah

  Make a baby?

  What in the ever-loving—

  “Are you out of your mind?” I yanked my skirt down, covering a part of me way too exposed to Horny McKnockup. “You want to make…you don’t make a baby. You have babies!”

  “Don’t get greedy, Kiss. I only need one.”

  I bolted off the couch. He had a raging hard-on and an idiotic idea. It was the Jack Carson Trouble-Maker special, and I hadn’t ordered any of it.

  “You want to have a baby?”

  “Look at him!” He pointed to the television, gesturing to a very smug and attractive looking man I recognized only once they showed him in uniform. “That is Tim Morgan. He’s a cocksucking son of a bitch. If the earth had an asshole, he’s it, walking around, pretending he’s God’s gift to the league. That bastard has taken every drug on the market, fucked every whore on the gulf coast, and threw his bowl game in college because he had money riding on it.”

  “How do you know?” I asked.

  Jack snorted. “We used to be friends.”

  “I’m not surprised.”

  “Tim knocked some girl up two seasons ago, and now that asshole is on every cereal box and video game. He didn’t change a damn thing about himself. Just holds up that kid and people think he’s the second coming. The baby changed his image. Everyone forgot the bullshit, and now they praise him for being a great father.”