Linebacker's Second Chance (Bad Boy Ballers)

by Imani King

  “Ohhh—” A moan escapes from a place deep inside, and I cover her mouth with mine as her walls tighten and pulse against my fingers. She pushes down, bucking against my hand. The heat spreads over her body, shivers rising over her skin, until I sense that her pleasure is complete.

  I expect her to go. I expect her to waltz out and leave—and she’d have every right to. Instead, her hand reaches out and finds my cock. It’s like time stops at that instant, and everything starts to go in slow motion. She gets me to back up, and then she kneels in front of me, unbuttoning my jeans and pulling them down so that my rock-hard cock is exposed.

  Her lips. Her lips. Touching my skin, finding the sensitive spot beneath the head of my cock, coaxing me like I did her a few moments ago. She flicks her tongue over the head, and she takes my shaft in fully, letting it hit the back of her throat.

  In my days as a professional athlete, I’ve been with women—plenty of them. None of them compare to Renata, the pure pleasure of watching her, seeing her become the sexual goddess she usually keeps hidden inside. It’s a thing that happens with many women—especially the smart, professional ones—but when that woman is particularly special and she gives pleasure with such relish and abandon, it’s maybe the rarest and most beautiful thing a man can witness.

  She slows her rhythm, tending to my cock with great care.

  And then it happens. I come, the sensation like a jolt of white-hot lightning searing through me all at once. I don’t mean to let go inside of her mouth—but she swallows, her hand at the base of my shaft, like this is what she clearly intended. Even being near her is different than being with any other woman. This encounter made it even clearer that she was the one that I was intended to be with.

  Later, after we’ve pulled on our clothes, and straightened mussed hair and shirts, the emotion lingers for me. But Renata seems distant, far away, almost like she’s sad or angry or deeply disappointed. I can list ten reasons why she'd be distant, but there’s no regret on my part.

  This is just the first step in showing her that we’re right together, and that I am capable of change.

  When she turns to go, she looks at me quizzically for one second. “You want to keep your job?”

  “Yeah,” I sigh.

  “And you want to be with me? And ditch Kinley?”

  “That’s about right,” I reply.

  “And you want to tell me nothing about what happened before?”

  “Well, not nothing. But yeah, you got me. Not much right now. You gotta trust me. I can tell you in time—but there are things I need to tend to first.” I slip my hands in my pockets and watch her as she walks to the door.

  “Okay.”

  “Okay what?” I ask.

  “Okay, I’ll try and trust you. And I’ll see you tomorrow night for that event with Kinley. Then we’ll talk and try to get out of this.”

  The first time I got out of an engagement, I was a broken man, and maybe I still am. But this—this is something to be excited about.

  I go for my next practice and try to push away the feeling that none of this is going to be as easy as it seems.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  “I don’t want to go through with it.” Mack is on my doorstep again, and it’s the eve of his engagement party to a woman who doesn’t mean a thing to him. That would all be well and good if I hadn’t let him tear off my clothes and—well, everything we did.

  There’s a signed contract. There are messages on my phone from Kinley and Eddie Davidson, reminding me that if we don’t go through with this, Mack is out of a job. And his reputation is permanently ruined.

  “I don’t think we can relent on the engagement party, Mack. I said it when I saw you last… and I’m saying it now.” I pause for a moment, a deep heat coming to my cheeks. The last time I saw Mack, well—things had gone a little farther than I’d anticipated. I’d finally given in to the painful need I’d been feeling for him.

  Two nights ago, I reconsidered everything. And I knew that this engagement wasn’t right.

  Two nights ago, I went to bed, desperate for Mack’s body. I’ve never felt what it was truly like to be with him, to have him inside of me, see his face when he comes.

  It was a good thing I slipped my vibrator into my checked luggage on the way from San Francisco, because I needed to come twice before I could fall asleep. The taste of Mack on my lips was intoxicating, damaging, dangerous.

  Like a drug you can’t get enough of.

  You know it’s bad for you. You know you’ll be longing for more once it runs out on you, once you’re sad and lonely, waiting for a fix that won’t come again.

  That’s what he does to me.

  I want to throw away everything, all the caution, all the barriers I have built up, for a chance to be with him. But I staked his career on this engagement—and long ago, it seemed like Mack made it clear he wasn’t interested in me at all.

  His brother Jared told me that it would always be over between me and Macklin Pride—he wasn’t ready to get married, at least not to a poor farm girl like me. I try to remind myself of those hateful words when Mack catches my eyes.

  Mack takes my hands, and a shock runs through me, activating that place of deep, deep longing. “We can always back out. Tell them I have the flu, and so do you. And then we disappear forever.”

  I shake my head, and that conflicted feeling comes back to my body. “You’ll get fired. You’ll get kicked out on your ass and blacklisted from every other team in the league. You won’t be able to play again, not this season. You know what that does to a player…” My voice trails off. He’s looking at me like I’m his prey, like he’s the hawk that just caught a glimpse of me and couldn’t resist. I think of his taste on my lips, how good it felt to make him come, how sweet it was to let myself melt into his arms, how he played me like a musical instrument, how I came for him while he watched me with those predatory eyes.

  “Doesn’t matter much to me, Ren. I don’t want to go ahead with the party if you have any hesitation about it at all.”

  “You can’t do this to me, Mack. Not like this. I know you think you feel something for me, but what happened the other day, that was some long overdue… fun.”

  “Bullshit, Renata.”

  “What was that?” I stifle a laugh at his serious tone.

  “I said that’s bullshit. You know it, and I know it.”

  He bites one lip like he’s meaning to say something else, but the words won’t come. I wonder what’s hidden under the surface. So many people discounted Mack, said he wasn’t intelligent just because he was big and made of muscle and preferred the ins and outs of football to calculus. When I looked at him, I always saw something different—his skill and ability to calculate what was needed in a football game. And more than that, an uncanny talent for reading people, an empathy that never seemed in line with his size and strength. Both of those things seemed to have vanished when he started drinking so much.

  But now, I see the man standing in front of me—closer to the person he was when I knew him in college. Closer to the man I fell in love with.

  He’s still the man who left you, Renata.

  Even still, I’m tempted to jump into his arms and tell everyone else to go screw themselves.

  But the caterers are already here, and Kinley is due to arrive any second—along with the owner of the team. There’s nothing on earth I want less than this, but it’s the plan we made. It’s all written up in the contract, and there’s not much we can do at this point, as much as we might want to make it all disappear.

  A stabbing guilt hits me. It was different when he was just the man who broke my heart, the party boy with the reputation for breaking hearts by the dozen. But that’s not the man I see standing in front of me. That’s not the Macklin Pride I knew in college--and from the moment I appeared, staring down at him, his whole act has changed. Like everything made a lot more sense for him as soon as I showed up in his life again.

  That couldn’t be. />
  I keep feeling like I’m in limbo, a hell of my own creation.

  I don’t know why Macklin left me six years ago, and I don’t know how the hell to get him out of an engagement he insists he doesn’t want. Hell, Kinley even went out and bought her own ring, quite likely accompanied by the other football player she’s sleeping with.

  “I want to figure a way out, Mack. But we have to wait until after this. The engagement is contractually obligated, but my lawyer did say that we could likely get out of the marriage after the season is over.”

  “Jesus,” he grumbles, running his fingers through his dark hair. “I never should have agreed to this.”

  I put my hand on his shoulder. “And I swear, Mack, I’ve done this a dozen times, but I’m pretty sure I shouldn’t have done it with you. Marrying off your ex probably isn’t a good idea, but I was bound and determined to make sure you keep that job. Your family’s farm… you keep it going, don’t you?”

  He shrugs, and his face goes blank for a moment. “I guess I do. Let’s just say I’m not keeping as high a take-home salary as a lot of the other guys I know. It’d be damn nice to get a raise, I can say that for sure.” He pauses. “But Renata, at what cost? We already know Eddie and Kinley are taking us for a ride. If we get in any deeper, what else is gonna happen?”

  I keep silent, because for once in my career, I don’t know the answer to a question like that—and the truth might be something more terrifying than I want to face.

  “Let’s just get through tonight. Go on up there, get yourself dressed, and greet Kinley with a smile. Go on now.”

  “Will you come up there for the party?” he asks.

  I shake my head. “I better keep my ass out of this one. I’ve done enough damage.”

  It’s on that note that Mack walks back up the hill to his home. I watch as Kinley’s car pulls up, as the caterers drive off. Balloons go up, tents full of food, a table filled with gifts that neither of them will ever use.

  Could it have been us? I wonder. After a while, I do my yoga routine for the day and climb into bed, pulling my sleep mask down over my eyes and shutting out the rest of the world. It’s only nine when I drift off, thinking of Mack. But there isn’t a point in guiding him through this, and there isn’t a point in putting either of us through the pain. Sleep seems best, and so I let it take me.

  ***

  Much later, I wake up to a gentle tapping at my window. I’m reminded of the times Macklin threw rocks at my window to wake me up, back when we were in high school. So long ago. I turn over and try to ignore the tapping, but it becomes louder, more insistent. After a few moments, I realize that it’s someone knocking my door, and it’s not just my imagination. I slip off my sleep mask and walk to the door, the very door where I saw Mack a few hours before. And there he is again. When I open the screen door and he walks in, I half-expect to smell alcohol on his breath, the sickly scent of it coming out of his pores. But no. Instead, it’s just Mack.

  He’s standing there with a distant look on his face, hands in his pockets. “She left with Gabriel Quarles, the wide receiver. She did her thing, you know. She was charming, made sure Eddie saw the two of us together. Made sure she spoke to every player in the room, as nice as you could be. Showed off her ring—the one she bought, you know.” He walks over to one of the couches in the living area and leans back against it. “It would be great if it worked, I’m sure. It would all be fine. Maybe it would have worked, too, if she were someone different. I think she went off with Gabe at some point, outside or—who knows where. She doesn’t care who knows she’s getting with him, as long as she shows up and recites the lines we give her. You worked with other women like this?”

  “No,” I say honestly, going to stand across from him. “I haven’t. To tell the truth, usually my guys actually get into relationships with the women we select. That’s how good a job we do… But not in this case.” The weight of my own words weigh heavy on me. Maybe I’m not as good at my job as I thought… or maybe it’s just this man standing here in front of me. I remember the taste of him on my lips, and suddenly I’m aware that I’m only wearing a t-shirt and panties. Inappropriately, a jolt of arousal crashes through me, pooling between my legs. I gulp. We’re supposed to be talking business. That’s what he came here to do. It doesn’t help that he looks model-good in a button-down shirt, or that the piney cologne he’s wearing accentuates his natural musk.

  Part of me wants to ignore the whole thing and hope it goes away, but that’s not how I deal with things professionally, and it’s not how I want to deal with this.

  “Don’t you think my reputation would be just as good if I was with my high school sweetheart?”

  He takes a step closer, and I gulp, backing my ass up into the kitchen counter. His hand reaches out and brushes my arm, leaving a trail of gooseflesh in its path. I can’t get the taste of him out of my head, and that thing starts to take me over, the thing that makes me want more.

  “This isn’t the solution…” I gasp as his hand moves down to my breast, cupping it, fingers rolling the nipple so that a glittering light takes me over and expands into the far reaches of my body. He lifts my shirt and cups both of my breasts at once, bending to put his lips on one nipple and then the other.

  For a second, he pauses. “This is the only thing I want right now, Renata. I want to finally dive into you. I want to come inside of you and watch your face when I do.” He raises his head, eyes meeting mine, hands still on my breasts. “I’ve been with a few women in the years we weren’t together, but I always wanted you. And a few days ago, I went by the doctor and got tested. I’m squeaky clean, and I’m yours if you want me.”

  I shiver at the thought. Mack and I always talked about our first time together, what it would be like. His skin touching mine, nothing between us. I had been so nervous about being with him—so shy and so young. I had wanted to wait until we were engaged, and then he had just disappeared. But now, I’m a grown woman, and this is what I want.

  Very faintly, I nod.

  Mack takes that as his cue to pull my shirt off over my head, leaving just my panties. I move to take them off, but he stops me. “Leave them on,” he growls. “I want to feel them against my cock when I’m inside you.” He leans forward and gathers me into his arms, pulling his own shirt off as he lifts me up and carries me over to the soft sheepskin rug in front of the guest house fireplace. When I reach for his cock, I find it’s already hard. I fumble with his jeans, and he pulls them off, grabbing my hands and turning me so I’m on my hands and knees in front of the fireplace. I close my eyes, losing myself in his warmth, his scent. Hands grasp me squarely on the waist. Fingers trail up my body and find my breasts again, moving lower and lower until I feel a hand between my thighs, brushing gently over my sex and filling me with an undeniable longing.

  There’s no getting away from this for either of us. Both of our lives have been building to this one inevitable moment. And here we are, finally lost in it.

  Mack’s fingers pull my panties to the side, his thumb making its way down my slick folds and back over my clit in repeated circles. Each time, he brings me closer to orgasm and then backs off, leaving me anxious for his next touch, hungry for more. I haphazardly remind myself that I’m on birth control, that Mack is clean. I’m still sure I shouldn’t be doing this, but with each skilled touch, I fall farther into my need and farther away from all sense of reason.

  When I feel his cock at my entrance, I’m already so wet that the head slips right in. I look over my shoulder to see Mack, hands wrapped around my waist, sighing as he pushes himself further inside me. His gaze doesn’t leave my face as he enters me, inch by inch, slowly filling me. I’ve been waiting for this moment for years, and I didn’t realize it until this very night. I moan slightly, warmth rising over my body, filling me and spreading out to every cell, every fiber of my being. Wired—that’s the feeling I have, even though he woke me from deep sleep. Pausing, he brings his hands to my breasts and tease
s my nipples, making me grow wetter, more ready for his formidable length and thickness.

  Time slows down, and I let out a deep, frustrated moan. “Come on, baby. Make me come.”

  He closes his eyes, sighing and pushing his full length inside. Looking back down to the floor, I can feel myself stretching to take him in fully—there’s discomfort, followed by pleasure so intense that I almost come right then. His cock is swollen, hard, hitting places inside that I never dreamed were so sensitive.

  “So tight, so sweet,” he groans, picking up his rhythm. His hand reaches around to find my clit as he enters me again and again, stimulating the tiny bundle of nerves, sending chills up and down my spine, sparks flying through each nerve.

  “You’re going to make me come, baby,” I cry out as he rides me, the base of his cock hitting against my soaked panties. The orgasm rises in me and then builds in intensity, never stopping, never slowing down as he comes inside of me, thrusting hard from behind and filling me to completion. I realize I’ve been gripping the rug, nails buried deep in the thick, soft wool.

  After he thrusts one last time, he slumps against me, and we both fall to the floor. Macklin pulls me into his arms, holding me against his muscular body. It’s been so long since I’ve seen all of him—the thick, sculpted muscles, the washboard of his abdomen. He’s always been huge, but he’s maintained himself with utter perfection. Since he’s quit drinking, he seems even more svelte. I let my hands linger over the ridges of his abdomen, the tight roundness of his ass.

  Is this what I’ve been missing all these years?

  My body is still on fire from him, and now I realize that I’ll keep that feeling with me as long as I’m anywhere near him.

  The emotions I’m feeling tangle inside me like an angry swarm of bees—guilt for taking this job and then letting my nostalgia affect my judgment, shame at not seeing Kinley’s scheming as we got farther into this mess, and happiness, finally being with the man I always wanted.