Hard Man: A Secret Baby Sports Romance (Bad Ballers Book 1)

by S. J. Bishop

  She looked at me with such passion as my fingers moved over her sweet, supple skin that a jolt of electricity shot up my back and spread into my growing shaft, making it feel alive. She was looking at me with those crystal blue eyes, panting, her arousal obvious as I slipped my fingers deep inside her pussy. I pulled them back out, breathing in the scent as I pressed her wetness to my lips. She groaned, squirming under me. I needed to taste her just once more. My heart beat furiously in my chest as I lowered my head to her soft mound, lapping at her delicate clit as her thighs trembled.

  "Oh God," she cried. I could tell she was close, and I hadn't even entered her yet. My breathing grew labored as I swirled my tongue around her, my cock starting to ache with anticipation. My urgency overwhelmed me as her seductive lips once more found mine, and her hands reached down, stroking my throbbing cock as she teased it with light, wet fingertips. I rocked my hips forward slightly, sending my member careening between her damp thighs but not yet entering her. I bathed my cock in her juices as her limbs began to tremble. I could hear her heart slamming against her chest.

  Her eyes held me captive as I watched the surge of emotion created by my cock rubbing against her. She was so wet, it was almost impossible to believe. I slipped my shaft through her wetness one last time before finally entering her. Her eyes widened. Her face changed. Alarm washed over me for a second as I thought I'd hurt her.

  "Are you alright?" I breathed, already starting to pull out.

  She hand clamped tightly down on my ass, pushing me back in. "God, yes," she cried.

  My cock twitched inside her as I sank deeper inside. Her body consumed me. From the moment I'd seen her, this was what I'd wanted. Now that I had her, my brain ceased to think. All that I could do was feel. My cock was singing as it sailed in and out of her. She clamped one hand on my shoulder, digging her nails deeper into me with each pulse of my hips.

  Every time I thrust my hips against hers, her breasts shook. I couldn't deny their intoxicating pull as they quivered in front of me, full and juicy, ready to burst. I reached down with my tongue, tapping the tip of it against her hard pink nipples as my body began to sweat. The round nub felt at home in my mouth as I suckled her, rolling my tongue around her nipple as we began to move together, our bodies completely in sync. Her pussy was warm and wet. I could feel her thighs clench as my hips met hers beat for beat. I couldn't take it anymore. I pushed my way deep inside her as her body cried out. I pounded my hips against hers, parting her thighs that much more with the force of my thrust. She wrapped her arms around my back, digging her nails into me.

  Our bodies were so hot our flesh melted together. I slammed into her again, my heart palpitating. I could feel my mouth watering as my fingers scraped the satin smooth skin of her back as I held her tightly. I pressed my cock into her silken warmth and felt myself start to erupt. Suddenly, Clarissa's body clenched. She cried out as her juices overflowed, wetting both of us as I sank into her one last time. I exploded, pumping lightly into her as my cock grew a final inch. Hot cum spilled out of me and filled her.

  She buried her head in the crook of my neck as we lay together, exhausted, and fell asleep in each other's arms.

  35

  Clarissa

  I woke up feeling refreshed. I looked to my left, and part of me was surprised to find that Lars was still there. I crawled out of bed quietly, not wanting to wake him. He looked so peaceful when he was asleep. The hard worry lines across his forehead and around his eyes seemed to evaporate. I figured it wouldn't hurt to let him sleep just a bit longer. I dressed and made my way downstairs.

  Everything about my life right now was confusing—except for Lars. Last night had cemented everything for me. I still couldn't believe the way he'd opened up to me. His past was like a nightmare, but most people were able to wake out of their bad dreams with the dawn. For Lars, the nightmare never ended. Even when he'd broken free from his past, it had come back to find him. He should never have made that stupid contract with Angelo like he had, but at least I could understand why he did it.

  I pulled some eggs and bacon from the fridge, thinking I could surprise Lars with breakfast. I wasn't much of a cook, but bacon and eggs, I could do. I set some orange juice on the counter and grabbed two glasses. A sudden wave of nausea rolled over me. It passed quickly, but it was enough to remind me that although Lars had been open and honest with me, I hadn't been open with him. Guilt beat behind my eyeballs, making them hurt. I rubbed my temples, hoping it would go away, but it only grew stronger. I had to face facts. After last night, I no longer thought of my pregnancy as something I could or should be deciding alone. I had to tell Lars.

  "Morning, beautiful," Lars said. I jumped a foot in the air, sending one egg flying across the room where it landed at Lars’ feet. He laughed, "Guess I scared you." He kissed me lightly on the cheeks as I tried to relax my face. I didn't need him asking me what was wrong, or worse, guessing it before I was ready to tell him. Yes, I had to tell him this morning, but timing was crucial here. I couldn't just blurt it out. Breakfast first, then we would talk.

  You're just stalling.

  "Shut up," I mumbled under my breath.

  "What?" Lars asked, looking up at me from the floor where he was wiping up the broken egg. God, why did he have to be so nice? If only he would do something terrible, I could get mad and send him home, and then I wouldn't have to tell him anything.

  "How do you like your eggs?" I asked.

  "Scrambled works for me," he said, shooting me that fucking smile of his. Why couldn't his teeth be crooked or brown or have one of those little spaces in the middle of them? Anything to make this easier. He'd grown up poor. How could someone so poor have such good teeth? There was no way he'd been to the dentist growing up.

  "What?" I asked, shaking my head to clear it. I couldn't let myself fall into any more trances. Lars was bound to notice.

  "I said scrambled," he replied, standing up and dumping the paper towel and egg into the trash. "What's up? Everything okay?"

  "Sure," I replied, a little too cheerily for so early in the day. "Couldn't be better." Jesus, stop talking already.

  I pulled six strips of bacon from their package and tossed them onto the frying pan. Lars came up behind me and wrapped his hand around my waist. I tried not to jump as he touched me, but it was too late, he'd felt the sudden shift of my body under his.

  "Okay, what's going on?" he asked.

  "Nothing," I lied. I was only digging a deeper hole for myself, but I just couldn't seem to form the words needed to tell him what was going on.

  Lars' face turned abruptly ashen. He stepped back from me, his deep brown eyes going glassy. "Oh shit," he said.

  "What?"

  "I know what the problem is."

  I held my breath. There was no way he could have guessed, could he? Had the doctors or nurses at the hospital said something to him after all?

  "What do you mean?" I asked, the chipper tone in my voice sounding false even to my own ears.

  "You've changed your mind."

  My jaw dropped open. How the hell had he found out?

  "I don't know if I've changed it, exactly. I just think we should talk about it, that's all."

  He slammed his fist against the counter, and my heart raced in my chest. "I'm sorry. This isn't your fault," he said, his eyes cold as steel. "It's me. It's all me. If I'd never joined that stupid gang...if I hadn't told Angelo I'd take his stupid hundred million dollar bribe... How can I expect you to want to be with me when I have the past that I do?" He stood stock still, his face pale. He lifted one hand to wipe some hair from his eyes, and I saw it was trembling.

  "Wait...what?" I asked, confusion washing over me.

  He looked up at me, his eyes darker than normal. There was anguish behind them. "You could have any guy you wanted. I was a fucking idiot to think you might want me. I'm not sorry I told you, though. I could never keep something important from you. You had to know the truth about me. Just know that I'll alw
ays be here for you if you change your mind."

  "Wait, Lars," I said, stopping him before he could reach the entryway. "What the hell are you talking about? I don't care about your past. We all have a past."

  He blinked, not quite comprehending. "You don't care?"

  "No."

  "But I thought...I thought that in the light of day, you know, you'd changed your mind."

  "Not even remotely," I said. The smile that lit up his face said it all. It was as if I'd just given him the best Christmas present ever. He had his lips planted on mine before I could blink.

  "Wait," he said, suddenly pulling away from me. "What were you talking about then?"

  "What?" I asked. His kiss had knocked the wind right out of me. I couldn't think straight.

  "When I said you'd changed your mind, you said it wasn't that you'd changed it, it was that we should talk about it. What did you mean?"

  I felt my heart catch in my chest, pushing the breath from me. "I...uh...was talking about the money Angelo offered you. Was it really a hundred million dollars?"

  He nodded.

  "That's insane! How can you give all that up?"

  "Because the way Angelo's offering it to me isn't the only way to get it." He squinted at me. "Are you sure that's the only thing on your mind?"

  "Yes...no. I don't know," I suddenly snapped, throwing my hands up in the air. "Do you always ask so many questions in the morning?" His lips tightened as I heard bacon popping behind me. "Shit!" I yelled, spinning around and pulling the bacon off the stove. I looked back at Lars, who was standing with his arms folded across his chest now.

  "You know you can tell me," he said.

  I sighed and took a deep breath. I guess it's now or never. "Fine, I don't really know how to say this. Lars—"

  The phone cut me off. I looked in its direction, grateful for the escape. I picked it up off the counter, Lars watching me the whole time.

  "Hello?" I asked.

  "Clarissa Walker?"

  "That's me."

  "I'm Nurse Catchum in your father's ward. I was calling to let you know that you might want to get down here."

  "What? Why? Is he okay?"

  "I'm afraid he's taken a turn for the worse."

  I hung up with the hospital, my eyes already watering. "What's wrong?" Lars asked.

  "My dad." I fell into his arms.

  "I'm going with you."

  "No," I mumbled into his chest. I looked up at him, tears streaming down my face.

  "Of course I am!" He was looking at me like I was crazy.

  "Lars, if you really want to help my dad, the best thing for you to do is win that Super Bowl. That's what he'd want. The game is in two days. That means you need to go to practice. I'll text you the second I know anything."

  I saw his jaw set and his lips form a hard, thin line. "I won't let you down. I won't let him down."

  "I'm counting on it."

  36

  Lars

  I pulled into the parking lot of my apartment complex, wanting a fresh change of clothes before I ran to practice. There was an open spot right out front of my door. I grabbed it and got out, hustling to make sure I made it in time. Our assistant coach, Tom Miller, had taken over Coach Walker's job since the accident.

  I wasn't paying much attention to where I was walking or what I was doing. I was just sort of spacing out, worrying about Coach. Part of me kept thinking that I should've gone with Clarissa to the hospital, but I knew she was right. I couldn't let Coach down. I knew it was crazy, but I kept thinking that if I could just win the big game for Coach, he'd snap out of his coma somehow. It sounded like a wild, new-agey kind of theory, but I figured that stranger things had happened.

  A shadow stepped out onto the path I was walking on. I moved to go around whomever it was and looked up as I did so. My mouth went dry. I should have been expecting this.

  "Hello, Lars."

  "Hello, Angelo."

  We stood staring at each other for what felt like several minutes. The clouds overhead rolled past us at a snail's pace. It felt like the world had suddenly stopped.

  "Think I could come up?" Angelo asked. "I was hoping we might have an opportunity to talk." His voice was low and steady. He made it that way on purpose. He'd practiced it when he was moving up the ranks in the mob. As he used to tell me, low and steady always sounded more threatening than fast and whiny.

  "I can't. I've got practice." My heart raced in my chest as my eyes darted around the suddenly too wide, too open space we were standing in. Open spaces were great for running. Not so great for hiding.

  Angelo smiled, only Angelo's smiles were more of a sneer. He was pissed that I was blowing his big deal and wanted to find some way to force me to keep my end of it. The problem was, Angelo knew me too well. He knew I was tough and that I didn't break easily. That meant whatever punishment he came up with was gonna have to be extra hard.

  "You and I go back a long time," Angelo said. "You were always like a son to me. You know that, right?" He stepped forward, his right hand in the pocket of his coat. Now it was my turn to sneer. I wasn't stupid. Angelo knew that I would know he had a gun in there. He was sending me a message. Shape up or ship out. The problem was that I knew Angelo just as well as he knew me. He'd never shoot me in broad daylight where anyone could see him. Of course, that didn't mean he wouldn't hire someone to do the job for him.

  "A son?" I asked, not bothering to hide the skepticism in my voice. "I think you're confused, Angelo. I believe what you meant to say was ‘servant of destruction’."

  Angelo's eyes widened in mock pain. "What you say hurts me. Deeply. You know I always took care of you. When you wanted out after Ash died, I let you out, didn't I? And then I went back and got those motherfuckers who killed him and took a shot at you and Tony." The more Angelo talked, the more his voice started to rise. "Who do you think put Ash's marker in the cemetery when you bailed out on us? Who took care of his memory, huh? And this is how you repay me? With this bullshit?" Spittle flew from his mouth as he yelled. He pointed at the air with one finger, like a crazed street preacher pointing toward God.

  "You did take care of Ash's memory and that scumbag Nose, and I'm forever grateful to you for that. But Angelo...this is different."

  "Why?"

  "Because I'm different."

  And there it was. The final statement on the subject. A declaration there was no way that Angelo could deny. He clasped his hands together in front of him. "That you are," he said, his voice cracking ever so slightly.

  "Now, please. If you really cared for me like a son, then leave me be."

  "Nothing I can say will change your mind?"

  "No."

  Angelo shook his head and started back down the path toward the parking lot. A black sedan pulled up to meet him. He walked past me looking solemn, and I knew I hadn't heard the last of him.

  Out of nowhere, a woman's voice shouted shrilly through the air. "There you are!"

  I turned to see a woman with long, straight black hair and a lime green face painted on her. She was wearing a black cape that billowed out around her as she walked, like she was flying through the air instead of walking on cement. She sneezed every few feet, pausing just long enough to wipe carefully at her nostrils without actually touching her makeup. It seemed an impossible task.

  "Madeline?" I asked, confused. "Is that you?" Would this morning never end? I'd almost put her out of my mind completely. "Why are you dressed like a witch?"

  "Because that's the only part I can get, thanks to Clarissa." I heard the bitterness in her voice and didn't feel sorry for her one bit.

  "Well, I don't have time for this. Get the hell out of here. I don't have anything to say to you."

  "Yeah? Well, I've got something to say to you. After spending the last eight hours with this poison on my face making me sneeze every other minute..." As if on cue, she sneezed. Her face contorted and her eyes watered. Each sneeze sounded like a baby chipmunk squeaking as it called out for
its mother. It would have been cute if I wasn't so mad at her. "...and this wig cemented down so that it's never gonna come off, I had some time to think. I deserve better than this."

  I rolled my eyes. She was such a petulant child. "If you were ever really Clarissa's friend, then you'll stop whatever this is and go home."

  "I can't go home," she said, her white teeth looking especially brilliant against the glowing green of her skin. "I have to get back to set. Why do you think I'm still dressed like this? We're on break. I had to sneak off set to come find you. You know how long it took me to get into this makeup? And I'm only in the scene for ten fucking minutes! AND it's not even union!" She was screaming at the top of her lungs and drawing a lot of stares from passersby.

  Angelo had stopped walking. He stood beside the sedan, watching us with interest. I moved further up the path, anxious to get away from him.

  "Get lost, Madeline."

  "How do you know you don't want to hear what I've got to say until you hear it?"

  There was a crazy logic to that I couldn't deny, but I didn't give a shit. I could feel Angelo's eyes on us. "Not now," I told her, turning my back to her.

  She put her hand on my shoulder and spun me back around. "Clarissa's pregnant. It's yours."

  Every ounce of blood drained from my face. "Bullshit."

  She shook her head fervently. "It's true."

  "How would you know?"

  "She told me, before...before she..."

  "Before she realized what a scum-sucking liar you are? Why should I believe anything you tell me?"

  "You don't have to. Ask her. She was planning to get an abortion and not even tell you."

  My head was spinning. No way could what Madeline was saying be real. She had to be making it up. I saw her watching me, a strange smile on her face. "Say it's true. Why the hell would you tell me? What do you care?"

  A shadow passed across her wide, round eyes. "She has things...parts...I mean, I've done things that she hasn't. It's not fair." Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes.