Player: A Secret Baby Sports Romance

by Aubrey Irons

  Hudson smiles broadly at Chet, his eyes like a shark’s; “Oh it is! I’d be happy to show you sometime if you wan-”

  “Don’t you have some other place to be,” I hiss at him.

  “Whatever you say, Princess,” he mutters sarcastically to me, and I jump as I feel his hand quickly swat at my butt behind me where Chet can’t see. He narrows his eyes like he’s about to say something to me, but he turns sharply on his heel and walks away instead, without another word to either of us.

  “I’m, uh, I’m sorry about that.” I shrug and try to smile at Chet’s smirking face; “He gets-” He gets, what, possessive? Dominant? My body hotter and my pussy wetter than anything I’ve ever felt before? “He gets feisty sometimes.” Feisty, right. My mind is instantly flooded with thoughts of just how “feisty” he got the other night when his hands were on my ass, bouncing me up and down his cock. I swallow hastily, trying to force the flush from my face.

  Chet just chuckles in this affected, eye-rolling way as he sips the martini in his hand; “Oh, he’s just looking out for you.” He arches a brow at me, giving me what I’m sure he believes is his most charming smile; “Can’t say I blame the guy; if I had my way, I’d be looking all over you too.” The thought of Chet looking at me anywhere close to the way Hudson does makes me nauseous, but I smile at him anyways as if I totally get what he’s saying.

  “Say, you know speaking of which, I’ve been thinking a lot, Reagan.” Fuck; I think I know exactly where this conversation is headed, and it’s not one I really ever need to have with him.

  “Chet, I-”

  “No, now hang on now, Ray,” He puts his arm around my shoulders, and if we weren't surrounded by people and press, I’d already be pushing him off me and telling him where to stick it. But I know I’m supposed to behave myself, and after the near miss disaster of being found with Hudson in my damn bedroom, I feel like playing by the rules might be a good thing.

  “You know-” Chet looks around before he leans close, “Can we talk somewhere a bit more private?”

  I don’t even know what to say as he’s suddenly leading me to the side of the large ballroom and down a darkened hallway away from the crowds and music.

  “Chet where are we goin-”

  “Ray, baby, I just wanted to tell you I’m sorry you had to find out about that; before I mean, about me and that staffer.”

  I stare at him incredulously; “Wait, that’s your apology?” I almost want to laugh at how insanely cliche this guy is; “You’re sorry that I found out? Not that you were fucking one of your interns like some sort of politician cliche out of a movie-script?”

  Chet smiles and nods his head patronizingly at me; “Now, let’s not be crude, Reagan. You know these sort of relationships sometimes just happen in politics.”

  I roll my eyes; “No, Chet, I don’t know that.” But I’m also done having this conversation, and I just shake my head; “You know what, fine; apology accepted.” I turn to leave, when I feel his hand grab my arm, tightly.

  “Oh I’m so glad, Reagan.” He’s grinning that smarmy smile at me again, and I’m suddenly on edge; “I think we’re going to have a lot more luck the second time, I can feel it.” And then before I know what’s happening, he’s yanking me towards him and trying to kiss me.

  I sputter and push away from him; “Chet!” I can feel my pulse racing, roaring in my ears like an engine as the adrenaline spikes; “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

  He’s still holding my arm, and he chuckles; “Oh, c’mon babe, don’t tell me you haven’t missed a little of the ole’ Chet magic.” I open my mouth to say something but he just keeps going; “You remember, Reagan, just like the old times huh?” He’s pressing me back against the wall behind me, and I’m feeling every inch of my skin crawl as my throat freezes up. He leans close, running his hand up the front of my dress and making me cringe in revulsion; “You look so tense, bab-”

  In the blink of an eye, his arm is suddenly getting wrenched away from me and behind his back. There’s a snapping sound, and he’s screaming. Hudson - Hudson - snarls like fucking wild animal as he brings his fist crashing down across Chet’s face, sending blood splattering from his nose as he cries out and drops to his knees on the ground. He’s holding his face and staring up at the utterly ferocious looking Hudson, and he’s screeching as Hudson’s fist crashes into his face again.

  And then I’m yelling - screaming even - and suddenly there’s the sounds of running footsteps as security comes thundering around the corner. Hudson snarls as two of them grab his arms; “Not me, you fucking idiots,” He spits out, nodding towards the sniveling Congressmen on the ground cradling his limp arm as the blood pours down his face. I can barely nod as they look at me for verification, feeling as though I’m moving in slow motion as Hudson shakes them free and jerks his head around to stare at me.

  “Are you ok?”

  “I- I-” I’m stammering, my mouth opening and closing without words.

  “Reagan.”

  Hudson’s voice is sharp, and I jerk my head to stare at him; “What?”

  “Are you hurt.”

  I shake my head quietly; “No.”

  “Then lets go, now.”

  It’s not until we’re outside that the shock really hits me, and suddenly I find myself angry, and I’m angry at Hudson for some reason. I’m angry that I needed rescuing; that somehow I need him at all. We’re right by his car when I shake my hand out of his and stop suddenly in my tracks. Hudson turns to me and I suddenly snap; “I don’t need rescuing you know.”

  He frowns; “Could’ve fooled me, Princess.”

  I narrow my eyes at him; “I mean in general, I don’t need you saving me or anything. I mean I’m the normal one here, Hudson; you’re the one with all the baggage that needs rescuing.”

  He looks at me coolly as he steps closer to me; “Is that a fact? You think I need rescuing?”

  I purse my lips and frown, crossing my arms over my chest; “Mhmm.” And then he’s right in front of me, and I can feel my own body betray me at his proximity; my pulse starting to race and my breath coming quicker.

  “You know,” he growls, smirking that smug smile as he leans so close to my face that our lips are almost touching; “We’d probably get along better if you’d just stop pretending you don’t want me.”

  “You’re fucking delusional, I don’t want you at all,” I sneer at him, knowing how totally unconvincing that sounds and feeling more like I’m trying to convince myself than him.

  “Oh, so it’s Chet you want in there? Is that it?”

  “Shut up, you don’t know what I want, Hudson.” His eyes flash at me, and he’s so close to me that I could just breath and kiss him.

  “Yes, I do.” He growls lowly, his eyes flashing at me, and I gasp as he takes my hand and places it against the front of his pants. He’s rock hard inside, and I can feel my own body throb with desire as I feel how aroused he is for me. And I know he’s right, too; I know he sees right through my bullshit and little bratty outburst and sees exactly what I want.

  The side door to the museum slams open and Donald comes huffing out, looking furious and red in the face as he starts to scream something at Hudson.

  “Get in the fucking car, Archer.” He whispers into my ear, sending a shiver right through me and making me tingle somewhere deep inside.

  “Fine” I spit out, as if I’m letting him take me away, even though its the only thing in the world I want in that moment.

  21

  Hudson

  P A S T

  I duck and weave, dancing back to try and avoid Logan's hook, but I of course catch it in the side anyways. I can feel the sweat stinging my eyes, and my shoulder’s throbbing in that way that I know I should give it a rest, but I know I won’t. I also know that Logan's going to beat me like he does every time we box like this, but that doesn’t stop me from putting up a fight anyways. That’s pretty much the first thing he taught after showing me how to lace up t
he gloves; always put up a fight.

  I swing wildly, feeling fatigued to the point of sloppiness as I swing through air where his face used to be. He’s grinning at me, looking like he’s barely out of breath as he skips away before ducking back in to land another hit against my jaw.

  “You wanna yield?” He’s taunting me, and we both know it. We also both know these little bouts of ours only end when I can’t physically lift my arm anymore or when I hit the ground too many times.

  “Getting tired, old man?” I grin at him, knowing this gets right under his skin; “I mean thirty’s creeping up there buddy, I can let you go take a breather if you wan-” I see fucking stars as his glove catches me right above the left eye, and then the world is spinning as I land on my back on the floor of the ring.

  Bryce taps the bell, shaking his head as I turn to shake my head at him; “Nope, fuck off Hudson, I’m calling it.”

  “Aww c’mon man! I had him!”

  Logan snorts as he bends down to give me a hand up; “Oh, definitely, Hud. Closest one yet.”

  “Dick.”

  He grins at me; “Hey, someday you might even land a punch on me, which’ll be the surprise of the century.”

  I’m swatting at him with my glove when Bryce swears under his breath; “I got one better for you.”

  I glance over at him, hunched over his laptop screen with his jaw hanging open and furrow my brow; “What?” He’s slowly shaking his head, his eyes skimming whatever he’s reading. “Dude, what?”

  Bryce raises his head to look at us with a crooked grin on his face; “Reagan Archer just announced her candidacy for New York State Senate.”

  Well, huh.

  P R E S E N T

  “Where the fuck are we going?”

  I grit my teeth and try to stop myself from saying anything; from telling her she’s being a brat, from telling her I’m sick of this bullshit - hell, from telling her all the shit I’m dying to tell her if I could only figure out how.

  “Hudson!” She’s yelling now; “You can’t just fucking kidnap me you know. Aren’t you Mr. ‘Low-Profile’? I’m pretty sure kidnapping Legislative candidates gets you high-profile faster than you can-”

  “Will you shut up?” I finally bark at her, my hands gripping the wheel tight as we screech around a corner, narrowly missing some idiot hipster out riding a fixie bicycle in the fucking snow.

  “We’re going to my place.”

  She frowns; “Why, you’ve never taken me to your place bef-”

  “Because it’s safe there, that’s why.” I turn and stare at her, our eyes meeting with a sort of burning spark that keeps me looking at her for far longer than I should considering I’m driving a damn car. I tear my gaze away and accelerate around a taxi.

  “Is it?” She says quietly, and when I turn back this time, her look is hungrier; more naked.

  I turn back to the road, and without warning I slide my hand up high on her thigh. I can hear her breath catch, and feel the thrum of her pulse hot under her skin.

  “Don’t you dare think you’re going to-”

  Her words end in a gasp as I slide my hand right up under her dress to the heated and damp fabric of her panties and I grin; “Ahh, yeah, you don’t want me at all, right?”

  She bites her lip and shakes her; “Mm-mm, nope; not at all.”

  I gun the engine, letting the horses fucking rip under the hood as I stroke my finger up over her panties; tracing her sex through the wet material and relishing in the quiet moan she valiantly tries but ultimately fails to swallow. We’re speeding through streets now, the engine roaring as I dodge cars and blow through lights. My finger slides beneath the side of her panties and strokes her lips, and she rocks her hips towards me.

  “Still sure you don’t want me?”

  “Definitely,” she gasps, her breathing comes ragged as I stroke my finger through her wetness and roll my thumb over her clit. She drops her head back and willing spreads her legs wider, and I know I’ve got her close as I roar around another corner.

  “Oh, well that’s good then, because we’re here.”

  I screech the car to a purr in front of my building and withdraw my fingers from her panties. She whirls to stare at me, and the look she gives me as her jaw drops is pure, undiluted frustration, and I love it.

  “Better cover up, Senator,” I say with a shit-eating grin as I nod towards the approaching valet. Reagan scrambles to pull her skirt back down, shooting daggers at me as I chuckle and step out of the car. I toss the keys to Richard, the valet, outside my building and usher the fuming Reagan through the front door. The brusqueness is to minimize the exposure to possible photographers who might see where she’s headed, but also because I’ve got this insane need to be alone with her as quickly as fucking possible. I hurry us across the glossy marble floor of my lobby and yank her into one of the ultra-modern glass and metal elevators. Reagan’s skirt is riding high on her thigh, and as the doors close, she starts to smooth the material down.

  “Stop it.”

  She pauses, and looks at me sharply; “Excuse me?”

  “I said leave it. Don’t smooth it down.”

  “You can’t just order me around like some sort of Lord of a castle you know,” She says tightly. But she blushes, and she doesn’t pull on the skirt anymore.

  The doors close, and it’s like the final stroke; the final straw on the back. They’ve barely shut before I’ve turned and pushed her up against the glass wall of the elevator, my lips devouring hers as she moans into mine. The elevator begins to rise out of the bank, and as it does so, the view behind the glass surrounding us changes to the bright lights of the city. I grab her wrists and shove them against the wall, growling into her as I move my lips to nip at her earlobe.

  “Hudson, stop-”

  “Lift up your dress.” I tell her, my voice commanding as I move back up to kiss her hard; crushing her lips with mine.

  She gasps as she pulls away; “No-” Her eyes dart to the glass walls and the neon city-scape slowly dropping away behind her; “People might see-”

  “No one’s going to see.”

  I see her hesitate, and I whirl around and hit the emergency stop button on the elevator, making her gasp; “Are you fucking kidding m-”

  “I own the building,” I growl, before turning back, grabbing her by the wrists, and pushing her firmly back against the glass. My lips are barely touching hers, and I hear her moan ever so softly; “Now lift up your fucking dress.”

  I drop one of her arms, and she reaches down without hesitation and grabs the hem of her skirt. She’s pulling it up, and I can feel my cock throb as her clearly wet thong panties come into view. I slide my hand between her thighs, drawing it up until my fingers brush against her heat, and I grin wickedly as she shivers and moans again for me.

  “Hudson…” She’s whimpering as I stroke her wetness through her panties, teasing her and relishing the feel of her hips pushing back against my fingers; “Please…” Holy fuck, hearing her beg like that is one the hottest things I’ve ever heard, and it’s taking my all not to pull my cock out and fuck her right here in the elevator.

  “Tell me what you want,” I growl into her ear as I push her panties aside and roll my thumb over her clit.

  She moans wildly and bucks her hips towards me; “Please, Hudson!”

  “Not until you tell me what you want.” I whisper deeply into her ear, feeling her shudder against me.

  “Hudson, please.”

  She’s desperate, I can hear it in her voice as I lean in close and suck her earlobe between my lips; “Tell me, Reagan.”

  “I want you,” she moans out breathily.

  “What do you want, exactly.” I snarl into her ear, feeling her shiver against me.

  “I want your cock!” She gasps, and it sounds so fucking hot coming from her proper little mouth.

  “Where?” I growl, rolling my thumb over and around her clit in lazy, teasing circles.

  “Inside me! I want your c
ock in my pussy!”

  I groan, feeling my dick throbbing almost painfully against my zipper, but I’m not ready to give in and give her what she wants; not quite yet; “The other day, when I walked in on you in the shower,” Her face reddens and I can feel her get wetter; “You were thinking about me, weren’t you.”

  She whimpers, but she shuts her eyes tight and shakes her head side to side.

  “Reagan-”

  I curl a finger up against her opening and began to tease it inside, and she caves with a shuddering moan; “Yes! Oh God, yes! I was!”

  I reach back and slam the button again, and the elevator immediately begins to rise again; “And what were you doing, Reagan?” I husk into her ear, feeling her hands clutching at my shoulders and my biceps as I push her back against the glass elevator wall with her skirt around her waist and my hand in her panties. One of her legs wraps around my waist, and she pulls me tight against her. She shakes her head and she whimpers into my shoulder as I slowly tease her, my fingers curling through her wetness and making her rock against my hand.

  “Tell me,” I command, and she moans loudly; “Fuck! I was playing with myself! I was playing with my pussy!”

  The elevator door dings behind us as the doors open into my Penthouse, and she shrieks as I whirl her bodily around and throw us both to the floor inside. We’re on the ground, ripping at clothes and moaning into each other’s mouths; needing each other like something primal and animalistic. I literally tear her skirt in two up the seam as I rip it off of her, not stopping until I’ve popped every button on the side of it as she yanks my pants down. And then I’m rolling a condom on and I’m inside her, and it’s like pouring gasoline on the fire.

  Holy fuck.

  Cute, innocent little Reagan - smiling, friendly, baby kissing, hand-shaking girl next door Reagan Archer does not want it gentle, and we are not making love there on the floor of my penthouse. We fuck like animals; her legs wrapped tight around my waist as she claws at my back hard enough to draw blood. She gasps as I pull her head back by her hair, and I suck and bite at her neck hard enough to make sure her stylist will have a fucking heart attack the next day. She moves onto her knees, looking at me with pure lust over her shoulder as she reaches back to scratch my chest or grab my thigh, urging me on harder and faster, until I see white light and can’t even hold out any longer. She screams out her release, and as my mind goes numb, I forget anything and everything about the world and life as I come inside of her.