Free Baller: An Off-limits, Sports Romance (Bad Boy Ballers Book 2)

by Rie Warren

  “Delaney. You got anything you need to say to this waste of space before I knock his lights out?”

  Making my legs work took some effort, but Rafe helped me up as Brooklyn stood there with my husband restrained as he did his best to give me the final closure.

  “You don’t have to hold him back,” I said, my voice steady and firm.

  “I know I don’t. Because you can hold your own.” Brooks let him go.

  Eric almost opened his mouth to spout out more bullshit, but he didn’t get the chance. I doubled my fist, and popped him with my very last ounce of strength—the force coming from within—straight into his face.

  His head lashed back. Blood spewed. Bones crunched.

  “You said you gave me a life.” I ranged up to him on shaky legs. “That’s the biggest lie you ever told. You took a life out of me. We. Are. Done.”

  “My turn.” Brooklyn crashed his enormous fist into Eric’s side.

  Fiercely protective, powerfully predatory, he unleashed holy hell on Eric. With every crushing blow, he inflicted possible lethal damage, and I just didn’t care.

  I rejoiced.

  I sat down on the ground, curled inside Brooklyn’s leather jacket, the bruises on my face pulsing, hoping in some part of me he’d kill Eric.

  But then he’d have to live with it.

  Killing.

  Brooklyn wouldn’t survive ending another person’s life. He wasn’t made like that.

  I didn’t want that for him.

  “Tell him to stop,” I whispered.

  “What was that?” Calder hunkered beside me.

  “Stop! Brooks, stop! Stop!” I struggled to my feet and snatched his arm. “Stop. Please.”

  A sob broke out of my chest.

  I collapsed against him, suddenly folded in his arms. “I don’t want you to hate yourself. Have regrets.”

  “I don’t have any regrets where you’re concerned. You know that.”

  “I want it to end now.” I touched his face, drew his wild gaze to mine. “We need to be done with this. With him.”

  Flashing lights—red and white—filled the scene. Sirens blared, two cop cars pulling up. The ambulance arrived, and two detectives, a man and a woman, made for Frankie while the paramedics swarmed me then Eric.

  Brooklyn remained at my side. “It’s over.” He tucked my hand in his as I was hurried to a stretcher and covered in a blanket.

  “I’m Detective Ashe Kingston.” The female—petite and blonde—introduced herself. “Frankie tells us you’ve had a hell of a history with the perp leading up to tonight.”

  “The perp?” I clenched Brooklyn’s hand.

  “Eric Grimes. Detective Angelo and I checked into your files with your hometown police department. That’s some shoddy police work right there. There’s going to be an internal investigation.”

  “An investigation?”

  “Into the allegations you brought three years ago that were never fully explored. You go get checked out at the hospital. We’ll be around to take statements later.” Detective Kingston laid a hand on my shoulder as I reeled in shock. “I just want you to know I went through something similar. So you’ve got all the support you need.”

  I swallowed, tears forming in my eyes, a stone in my throat.

  “And Grimes isn’t getting anywhere near you again.”

  Hot tears bathed my cheeks even though I tried to battle them back. I was smoothly shuttled into the ambulance, Brooks by my side the entire time.

  I watched, detached, as the blood pressure cuff went on and the paramedic took my vitals. I was only aware of Brooklyn who looked as scared as I’d been.

  “I didn’t want you to feel responsible for me,” I spoke through a dry throat.

  He clasped my hand harder. “Hate to break it to you, but too late for that.” His head dropped and his shoulders shook. “Thought I’d lost you.”

  “You didn’t. You didn’t.” I reached up to thread my fingers through his hair.

  He wouldn’t look at me until he’d swiped at his cheeks. “I love you so damn much.”

  A whole world of feeling filled my chest. “I know.”

  “I shouldn’t have roughed him up yesterday.” His expression thinned. “I think he came after you because I . . . because I . . .”

  “No. No. I shouldn’t have let him get the jump on me.” Ragged breaths wracked my chest as I clung to his hand.

  “Hush now. Hush, baby. It’s done. All over.” Brooklyn caressed my cheek, the paramedic settling in beside him as the ambulance shot forward. He bent his forehead to mine. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  Moments, minutes passed as the paramedic attended to my cuts and bruises with Brooklyn’s hand in mine, his gaze locked on mine, the entire time.

  “Wait!” I popped up suddenly. “Did you guys win?”

  “Jesus, woman.” He kissed me, a soft brush of his lips. “Yeah. We won the game.”

  The last dam broke, and tears shook me, sobs crashing through me over and over again.

  “You’re okay.” Brooklyn held me, held me through it all. “I’ve got you. You’re safe now.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Not Broken

  Brooklyn

  FOUR DAYS AFTER FINDING Delaney in her soon-to-be-ex’s grip, I led her out to the stable.

  “Are we going riding?” she asked.

  “Depends what kind of ride you’re thinking of.” I swaggered a little, but to be honest I was nervous inside.

  More nervous than during a big game, because everything with Delaney was life-changing, especially now that Eric was truly out of the picture.

  The maggot was going to be banged up behind bars for a very long time, pending court. But the evidence was stacked against him—abduction, assault and battery, attempted rape. Divorce papers were being expedited due to the circumstances surrounding Grimes’s arrest and ongoing abuse.

  I would’ve outright killed Eric if he’d succeeded in raping her, damn the consequences.

  Delaney had spent a total of one night in the hospital because the sterile antiseptic surrounds weren’t what she needed to heal. She needed fresh air. Sunshine. New hope. New beginnings.

  She’d moved in with me. Completely. Hopefully forever. And every day beamed brighter with her at my side. I’d expected a fuckton of fallout after Eric’s insane plan to abduct her, but she’d recovered quickly, proving once again how tough she was.

  Maybe it was because everything that’d weighed her down for so long was finally laid to rest. Because she could finally look forward to a future without constantly looking over her back. The bruises healing, fading like the pain of her past.

  She was done hating. Done running.

  She was done mourning, but that didn’t mean she’d ever forget little Katie. So when the old darkness tried to swallow her, I was there to listen, to talk her out of it. I was there to hold her. Whatever she needed, whenever she needed me.

  We’d planted a camellia with bright pink winter-blooming blossoms for Katelynne next to the house, and afterward I’d just sat there while she quietly wept. I didn’t think those would be the last tears she cried for her lost baby girl, but at least now she had someplace to go to remember.

  We passed the camellia, and Delaney reached out to stroke the glossy leaves and the soft petals as she always did, her smile softening.

  Inside the stable, the scents of horse and hay and leather assaulted us. I stopped Delaney just inside the door, covertly wiping my palms on my jean-covered thighs.

  “Okay. If we’re not riding what are we doing out here?” she asked, her long black braid hanging over the shoulder of her leather jacket.

  “Patience. It’s a virtue.” I tapped the tip of her nose, and her gold-colored eyes crinkled at the corners.

  “Now there you go with the Yoda speak like Coach D.”

  I swiped my palms again, spinning away to the tack room. When I returned I hid a couple things behind my back.

  She
gave me a mischievous look. “Are you planning on tying me up?”

  Cue my cock lurching in my pants. “Well, that could be arranged. Later. But no, not that.”

  “Then show me, you big tease.”

  I presented her with the gifts. A pair of hand-tooled cowboy boots in fawn-colored leather, her perfect size, and a lady’s Stetson, which I was probably gonna convince her to wear when I fucked her.

  “They’re beautiful, Brooks.” She took the boots in her hands, running her fingers over the designs.

  “Thought I better break you in as a real cowgirl.”

  “Oh you did, did you?” She leaned up against me, drawing my mouth to hers for a slow hot tongue-involved kiss.

  I pulled back after a last lick of her lush lips. “Better stop that now or we won’t get to the rest.” I rapped a knuckle against the boots. “Check inside.”

  Her hand dove inside, and she pulled out a thick envelope. “A love letter?”

  “Uhhh. Words aren’t really my thing, ya know.” I nervously cleared my throat. “Put the boots down and open it.”

  She pouted. “But it’s not a love letter?”

  “Woman.” I nearly growled.

  She slowly ripped open the envelope and pulled out a sheaf of papers. “What? This . . . these say . . .” Her astonished gaze flew to mine. “Are you serious?”

  “More than I’ve ever been.” I bit down on my bottom lip to contain my emotions as her eyes became glossy with tears.

  “But these are the registration papers for Cinnamon. In my name?”

  “Yeah.”

  A tear clinging to her eyelashes dropped as she looked through the rest of the bundle. “And . . . the house? The land?”

  I laughed over the stone lodged in my throat. “Well, that’s not just yours. Added you to the deed. Gotta keep something for myself, right?”

  “Brooklyn Holt!” She swung her arms around my neck, crumpling the papers against my back. “You big fool.”

  “Fool in love.” Angling her neck in my hand, I lowered my mouth, covering hers and swirling softly around her tongue.

  She mewled, writhing against me. Drawing her leg up to my hip, she grinded against me, adding a hot tease to the slow burn I had in mind.

  With a groan, I jerked away. Her face was flushed. My heart stampeding. Her lips moist and mine tingling.

  “You forgot the hat.” I passed it to her, resisting the urge to wipe my palms off one more time.

  She took it, starting to lift it to her head.

  “Might wanna check inside first.”

  The look she shot me was shy and sweet and wondering. “What else did you do?”

  I shrugged, but a mighty tension settled in the pit of my stomach.

  That time her hand shook when she pulled out the small leather box.

  “Brooklyn?” Her voice trembled as she peered at me, and I got down on one knee.

  I took the box from her and opened it. The diamond inside was nothing like the rock I’d given Brianna because Delaney wasn’t like that. Instead this engagement ring was handmade, one of a kind, as precious as Delaney was to me.

  “I s’pose this isn’t the most romantic place to propose to the woman who changed my entire life.”

  “It’s perfect, Brooks.” She clasped her hands near her heart.

  “You gonna let me finish? Because I’m okay if you just say yes.” A smile spread across my lips.

  “Finish. Finish, please.”

  “This is where I first got to know you. Really see you. That day we had the picnic.” The deep throbbing of my voice matched the deep throbbing of my heart she’d opened up—bigger and wider than ever before. “You’re so damn brave. Beautiful. A true warrior.” I blinked, pushing back tears. “I want to be your husband, Delaney, if you’ll have me.”

  “I thought you said you weren’t good with words,” she whispered, the light tease affected by her lowered voice.

  I reached for her hand. “Is that a yes?”

  She cupped the side of my face. “Of course it is. I love you. Yes!”

  Soaring happiness rocked me to my soul.

  “Put it on me. Put it on me!” She waggled her fingers.

  I kissed the palm of her hand before settling the sparkling ring home where it belonged, like her with me.

  Easing up, I brought her against me, the sexy impact of her body against mine, her lips on mine, hot enough to set my skin on fire.

  I cupped her ass, dragging her legs up around my waist. I backed her to the wall, rutting hard. Rutting fast. Ready to mount her as the blistering kisses blinded me to everything but the need to thrust inside her.

  When I reached between us to cup my hand against her mound, Delaney managed to slip away.

  “Get back here,” I ordered.

  “Not in front of the horses.” She backed toward the stable doors. “How many times do I have to remind you?”

  “But I still gotta break you in.”

  “You can try.” Her hips switched as she led me—by my dick—out of the barn.

  I hurried to catch up. “Put the Stetson on so I can really show you how to ride me.”

  When she slanted the hat across her forehead I was pretty sure I was the one in for a ride.

  Couldn’t. Fucking. Wait.

  ****

  Dressed in the dark gray suit complete with vest and a handkerchief in the breast pocket—all tailored by one Frankie Burelli, who’d only put the moves on me a few times while he fitted me—I couldn’t concentrate on the tie-tying thing.

  That was pretty much impossible with my woman standing next to me in our bedroom, wearing lacy black sexy things that barely covered Delaney’s delectable body. Yeah, the bra cupped her tits, but with hardly enough fabric to stretch over nipples I wanted in my mouth pronto. She wore a bra so rarely, seeing her in one and little else had me ready to bust my nut all over her breasts. Of course the thong didn’t help either. A string between the cheeks of her ass, a triangle over the slit of her pussy. Stockings. Garter belt. Perfume. Lipstick.

  Fuck. Me. Running.

  Her dress lay on the bed. Maybe I could burn it before she got a chance to put it on. Keep her in bed. Fuck her raw. Over and over.

  Nice. Big boner in my swank suit. Just in time for Rafe and Peyton’s early December wedding a few days after I’d proposed to Delaney. So far we’d kept our secret. She only wore the ring around the house. But as soon as her divorce came in I was so jumping on the marriage bandwagon.

  She moved up to me, glanced down at my groin, smirked.

  Minx.

  “Need help?” She batted her lashes at me.

  I narrowed my eyes on her.

  “Mmm.” Her breasts brushed against my chest, and the heels made her tall enough her pussy was at hard-cock-level. “You look handsome.” Her fingers dangled on the tie’s ends.

  She started looping the silk. I ducked my head, trying to catch her lips in mine. She pecked at my mouth, nibbling, sucking, biting little kisses that shook me down to my balls. As soon as she cinched the tie, straightened it flat against my chest, I dragged her fully to me, fitting my mouth to hers.

  The heavy rough kiss spiked greed in my veins, lust in my loins. My hands dug into her ass, roamed up her back, played with the hook of her bra.

  Delaney pressed me away, tits heaving, nipples proud and peaked. “I’m going to have to redo my lipstick,” she said unsteadily.

  Which immediately made me think about those dark red lips pursed around my aching shaft.

  I grunted. Adjusted. Thought about putting on some damn compression shorts for good measure.

  And when she bent over to gather the dress, I thought about two pairs of compression shorts.

  “You are seriously asking for a fucking.”

  “Am I?” She glanced at me, slipping the dark blue dress over her hips.

  Her dress. Holy-shit-her-dress. V-neck. Tight top. Silky material. Floaty skirt. High slit that showed thigh every time she moved.

  �
�Need help zipping up?” I asked.

  “Depends. You thinking of zipping my dress or getting me out of it?”

  I approached with a hungry prowl, a wicked smile.

  She laughed and leaped back. “We don’t have time!”

  “Quickie?” I kept advancing.

  “You’re never quick.”

  “I can make an exception. Unless you want me showing up as best man with my dick like this?” I pointed at the obscene bulge in the fabric.

  “Oh. You poor man.” She hipped her way toward me and set her palm on me. She stroked me. “It must be difficult having such a big hard cock.”

  “You don’t know the half of it.” I grunted through gritted teeth.

  “I think I know”—her fingers stole to the head of my dick—“all of it.”

  I saw stars. I humped into her hand. I wrapped my fist around her wrist and bucked into the tight hold.

  “Fuck. Delaney.”

  “Uh uhn. You’re gonna have to save that for later.” She eased off just when I was about to come in ribbons all over the inside of my pants.

  I sucked in deep driving breaths, beating back the hunger lancing through me. Then zipped up the back of her dress, kissing her neck.

  Red lipstick. Hair up in some fancy arrangement. The legs, the heels. She dripped pure sex sex sex.

  My dick drooled and whimpered.

  ****

  I stood next to Rafe as he pretty much bounced on the soles of his polished shoes beside me at the altar.

  “Nervous much?”

  “Fucking excited, man.” He hit me with one of his famous gleaming white grins.

  “Good thing Callum and Liv are ring bearer and flower girl, or you’d be paying into the swear jar right now.”

  “Don’t I know it?” He nodded his head at his mom who sat in the front row of the loose arrangement. “Ma would make me pay up too, so don’t tell her.”

  Gracie Macintyre looked as excited as her son, in her pretty dress and silver-blonde hair and pink cheeks.

  My gaze gravitated toward Delaney who perched on a chair on the platform set up on the white sand outside Rafe and Peyton’s house on Isle of Palms beach. December beach wedding? Totally doable in South Carolina. They were just lucky the day was bright, awash with sun, and warm enough our dicks didn’t shrivel. Not like mine was ever going down. Not with Delaney’s even warmer gaze locked on me. Guessed she liked the suit. Or the fact she knew she was still keeping my cock hard. Beside her, the other Cougars turned out in their finery.