Hard Tackle: A Bad Boy Sports Romance

by Jessica Ashe

  “Wow, that’s great,” I replied. “You can take your job back, and then I’ll fire my agent.”

  “I turned her down,” Kristi said. “Actually, I waited for her to finish talking and then just hung up. Was that rude?”

  I laughed. “Yeah, a little. But she deserved it.” I leaned over and kissed Kristi on the forehead. “I’m glad you didn’t take the job.”

  “You are?”

  “Hell yes. You still have a few more weeks of summer left, and I don’t want you spending all that time at the office.”

  “Hm, whatever will we do instead?”

  I grabbed Kristi’s wrist and pulled her on top of me, where my stiffening cock met her eager wetness. I didn’t need to play football; this was happiness right here.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Kristi (five months later)

  “I’ve never been to a Super Bowl party before.”

  “If you’d said that when we first met, I never would have chased after you,” Barton replied. “How can you have never been to a Super Bowl party?”

  “Remind me to never tell you how many football games I’ve watched in my lifetime,” I said. None, not from beginning to end anyway.

  “Am I going to spend the entire Super Bowl explaining the rules?”

  “God, I hope not. I just plan to eat and drink while you boys and Tasha watch the game.”

  Tasha and Clyde came into the living room with enough beer to satisfy a small army.

  “May and Lance not here yet?” Tasha asked.

  “No,” Barton replied. “The babysitter was late picking up the kids, and now they’ve hit traffic. Should still be here in time for kick-off though.”

  Barton’s apartment was on the market, so he decided to host the party at his parents’ house. We’d been visiting every couple of weeks to get away from the hustle and bustle of the city, and gradually the house was beginning to feel like a second home. I knew Barton still found it a little odd being there, but he was getting used to it.

  “You sure you’re okay?” I asked Barton, when Tasha and Clyde disappeared to the kitchen. “I know this isn’t exactly how you imagined spending the Super Bowl this year.”

  “It’s fine. I didn’t expect to get to the Super Bowl in my first season anyway.”

  Instead of playing football every week, Barton and I had been working tirelessly to rebuild his reputation. He started by apologizing publicly for the fight with Milton, but we also let rumors spread about how Milton tried it on with me. It wasn’t enough for Barton to get his place back on the team, but the public perception changed just enough that he didn’t get shouted at everywhere he went.

  Then there was the constant stream of charitable appearances, and goodwill projects in the community. By the time his former team were officially out of playoff contention, there were actually calls for Barton to be forgiven and brought back into the squad. That would never happen, but it made Barton’s quest to find a new team a hell of a lot easier.

  Speaking of which….

  “Have you told anyone yet?” I asked.

  “No, not yet. I want to wait until May and Lance are here.”

  “I’ve nearly told Tasha about six times,” I admitted. “I mentioned moving the other day, and had to quickly admit that we were looking to move in together. I omitted to mention that we would be moving to Washington.”

  “You sure you’re happy to move?” Barton asked. “I can still call it off if you want to stay here.”

  “You need to play football.”

  “If it’s a choice between playing or being with you, then I pick you every time.”

  “That’s sweet, but I want you playing football. You’ll just get under my feet otherwise.”

  “Oh, thanks.”

  “You know what I mean. You’re just not meant for hanging around a house by yourself.”

  Barton got bored easily, which meant he constantly wanted to hang out with me even when I had to study. Barton’s idea of ‘hanging out’ always meant fucking, and I found that impossible to resist. Remarkably, I was still on course to graduate. I think Barton’s cock made me more intelligent. That was the only explanation I could think of.

  May and Lance showed up thirty minutes before kick-off. May hadn’t been to the house in over a year, and she walked around curiously as if she didn’t remember the place. I felt more at home here than she did, which I think unnerved us both. Still, it was a beautiful house and deserved to have people having fun in it.

  Barton quickly put a beer in everyone’s hand and then gathered us all together for a toast.

  “I have good news,” Barton explained. “Thanks to Kristi, I’ve managed to regain a little bit of the public’s trust after… the incident.”

  “When you punched Milton,” Clyde helpfully pointed out.

  “Yes, when I punched Milton. Anyway, thankfully another team has agreed to take a punt on me.”

  “You’ve been signed?” May asked excitedly.

  “Yep. Kristi and I are moving to Washington in a few weeks. I won’t be the first choice quarterback, but I plan to fight my way into the team. Uh, not literally fight my way into the team. You know what I mean.”

  “You’re moving up there together?” Tasha asked me. She looked a mixture of excited and upset. We’d been living together for years, and had never lived in a different state. This wouldn’t be easy for either of us.

  I nodded. “We want to live together, and that means me moving up to Washington. I’ll be able to come back often though.”

  “And I’ll pay for you all to come up and visit whenever you want,” Barton added. “Just say the word, and I’ll buy you plane tickets.”

  “Thanks,” Tasha said softly.

  “That’s great news,” Clyde said enthusiastically. “Isn’t it, Tasha?” He gave her a nudge and Tasha forced a smile.

  “Yeah,” Tasha said. “Of course, it’s great news.”

  Tasha came over and hugged me tightly. “You really okay with this?” I whispered in her ear.

  “Yes, honestly, I’ll be fine. It’s just come as a bit of a shock that’s all. I’m going to miss you.”

  “I’ll only be a few hours away. Besides, you spend half your time with Clyde already.”

  “Yeah, I guess he’s okay.”

  “Thanks,” Clyde called out. “Come on, let’s watch the game.”

  Tasha let go of me and Clyde immediately took her into his arms. It wasn’t often I got to feel like the older sister, but I did right now. Tasha would be just fine with Clyde. I’d never seen her happier.

  We had a lot in common in that respect.

  * * *

  “Let’s make a deal,” May said over breakfast the next morning. “We’ll all gather here every year for the Super Bowl, assuming of course, that Barton isn’t actually playing in it.”

  “Deal,” I said eagerly. Despite what I’d said yesterday, I knew that as time went on, we’d all see each other less and less. Clyde would be working as a lawyer soon, and Tasha had decided to go back to school for a master’s degree. May and Lance had kids, who would be a handful for many years to come. Who knew what the future would hold for Barton and I.

  “Sounds great,” Tasha agreed.

  “Alright,” Barton said, “but don’t expect it to happen often. I plan to collect so many rings that lifting my hand will be like a gym workout.”

  “I thought you’d brought his ego down to Earth, Kristi,” May said. “He’s worse than ever.”

  “I’ve tried,” I protested. “He’s just letting off steam, because I make him behave himself in public.”

  “You sure you’re okay coming here, sis?” Barton asked. “I wasn’t sure how you’d feel about being back to the old home.”

  “It was weird at first,” May admitted, “but I like being here. We have so many happy memories, it’s silly to let all that go. Besides, it’s what Mom and Dad would have wanted. God, they’d have loved you, Kristi.”

  Barton reached out and sq
ueezed my hand. “Definitely,” he agreed. “They’d love her almost as much as I do.”

  “And you Tasha,” May added. “Clyde was almost part of the family growing up, so you’d have been welcome too.”

  “Your Mom was disappointed when you brought me home,” Lance said to May. “She wanted you to date Clyde.”

  “No way,” May and Clyde both said in unison.

  “She did,” Lance insisted. “Took me a while to win her round.”

  I smiled as I noticed Tasha subconsciously move closer to Clyde and place her hand on his thigh. She didn’t need to claim him. Clyde looked at Tasha much like Barton looked at me; she had no worries in that department.

  “It’s a deal then,” May said. “Back here this time next year, unless Barton makes the Super Bowl. Might have to bring the kids next time, unfortunately.”

  “Maybe there will be more kids coming along in the next couple of years,” Lance teased.

  “No,” Tasha and I said quickly. Neither Barton nor Clyde looked too disappointed with that response.

  “We’ll see,” May teased. “Lance and I never planned to have kids, but these things happen.”

  “Your kids are the reason we don’t want any,” Barton said.

  “They’re lovely,” Tasha replied. “I give it two years before there’s a baby at our Super Bowl party.”

  “No chance,” I replied. “Not going to happen.”

  Epilogue

  Kristi (six years later)

  “When are your parents getting here?” Barton asked, as Joey started climbing up his leg. He hadn’t been picked up by his daddy in five minutes and was getting restless. Barton bent over and lifted him high into the air, holding him above his head while Joey laughed and squealed.

  “They were supposed to be here an hour ago, so who knows. You think we have enough snacks for the kids?”

  “There’s plenty, honey. Stop stressing about the food. Clyde’s bringing loads of beer, and May’s been cooking all weekend. She’s been waiting for this day for a long time.”

  “Maybe you shouldn’t get to consecutive Super Bowls in future.”

  “I know, I really should stop being so awesome.”

  I shook my head, but smiled as Barton blew raspberries into Joey’s belly. Joey screamed at the top of his tiny lungs. It was a noise only a parent could love, although I loved it a lot less when Claire was napping.

  Sure enough, a crying sound soon came through the baby monitor.

  “Your turn,” I commanded.

  “I have this one,” Barton protested, holding up the screaming culprit.

  I took hold of Joey, who was a little reluctant to leave his daddy until I passed him a cookie. Alright, so I wasn’t going to be winning mother of the year any time soon.

  “Off you go. And don’t go getting her all excited.”

  Barton was the greatest dad to our kids I could ever have hoped for—except when you wanted the damn things to sleep. He traveled a lot, so when he was at home, all he wanted to do was play with them. And all I wanted to do was watch him play with them. It lit up my heart every time.

  “Hey, Kristi,” Tasha called out from the doorway. “Do I smell barbecued chicken?”

  Tasha came straight into the kitchen holding her six-month-old baby which she quickly passed off to Clyde when she saw the food I’d prepared earlier.

  “Damn, this stuff is good,” Tasha said with a mouthful of chicken.

  “Don’t eat it all. I want some of it left for the game.” I left Tasha with the food and headed straight to my adorable little nephew. “Hello, you,” I said, in my best baby voice. Clyde passed Sam over to me, still holding him like something precious that might break at any moment. Barton and I had been like that with Joey, but by the time Claire arrived, we passed her around freely just to get a rest. Yeah, not the best parents, I guess.

  I rubbed my nose against Sam until he laughed and blew spit bubbles. Clyde watched over me intently. This kid was going to be spoiled rotten. Tasha had gotten pregnant at almost exactly the same time as I had with Joey, but she’d lost the baby. A girl. She would have been born around the time of the Super Bowl, so this week was always tough for them. The loss had led to Clyde and Tasha splitting up for about six months, but they found their way back together. They loved each other, and I knew that love like that had a way of keeping people together.

  Barton brought Claire out of her room, having failed to get her back to sleep. He pretended that he’d tried, but he forgot I could listen in over the baby monitor. If I hadn’t known better, I would’ve sworn he’d woken her up on purpose. Big softie.

  “What happened in the playoffs, man?” Clyde asked Barton. “I had money on you guys.”

  “You should have said something. I’d have tried harder if I knew you stood to lose twenty dollars.”

  “He’s still a little sensitive about it,” I pointed out to Clyde.

  “You’ve already got one ring, and been to two Super Bowls,” Clyde pointed out. “That’s more than most people get to accomplish.”

  Despite having known Barton most of his life, Clyde really did have a habit for saying the wrong things.

  “I need at least two rings,” Barton said. “One for each of the kids. Otherwise there’s going to be one hell of a fight between them when I die.”

  “Mom and Dad here yet?” Tasha asked. “And where are May and Lance?”

  “May and Lance are going to be late. The kids deflated the neighbor’s tires last night, so they have some damage control to do.”

  “Damn, those kids are a handful.”

  “Yeah, they make ours look like tame by comparison. Mom and Dad are....” The doorbell rang and my parents walked in. “Here, apparently.”

  Mom and Dad shouted out “hello” but made an immediate beeline for their grandchildren, who quickly got smothered with attention. My parents didn’t care about football, and only watched the games that Barton played. They were here to keep the kids busy while the adults got a little tipsy.

  As we gathered in the living room, I did what I always did when my entire family was together; I cried. Only a little. I could usually hide it from everyone except Tasha. Our life wasn’t perfect, but it felt damn close sometimes. It wasn’t the expensive vacations, or the VIP treatment that made me realize that. It was this moment every year—or every other year—when the family gathered to watch a game that I still didn’t much care for.

  “Cheers everyone,” May said, just as the game was about to start. “Let’s hope we’re not all here next year.”

  “Cheers.”

  * * *

  “Claire’s asleep, but Joey is trying to stay awake,” Barton said, as he crawled into bed. “He thinks he’s missing all the fun.”

  “We’ve all gone to bed,” I replied.

  “I know, but he thinks we’re just tricking him and that we’re all going to go back out and party once he’s asleep.”

  “Like I have the energy for that.”

  “Yeah, me too. Playing football doesn’t prepare you for long days with the family.”

  Barton wrapped his arm around my shoulder and brought me in close to him. Resting my head on his chest felt as special now as it always had done.

  “Is it bad that a part of me doesn’t want you to play at the Super Bowl next year, just so we can do this again?”

  “We’ll make an effort to do this more often,” Barton replied. “I love getting the kids together. Besides, you know the deal. A Super Bowl ring for each kid. I’m not stopping until I get that second one.”

  I sighed. “In that case, I might have some bad news. You might have to win three Super Bowls.”

  “You want a ring too?”

  “No, honey, I don’t want a ring.” I paused while I waited for Barton to catch up.

  “Oh. Oh crap.”

  “Good ‘oh crap’ or bad ‘oh crap?’

  “Good ‘oh crap.’ Definitely good.”

  “What will we name it?” I asked. Joey and Cl
aire had been easy choices—we named them after Barton’s parents.

  “What about Leona?” Barton suggested.

  “You’d better be joking.”

  “Without her, we wouldn’t be together now.”

  “Not Leona,” I insisted. “Not unless you’re happy with Milton for a boy.”

  “Good point.” Barton smiled and looked at me longingly. “I love you, baby.”

  “I love you too.”

  Barton kissed me on the lips and rubbed his hand softly over my pregnant belly on the way down to the warmth between my legs. That night he reminded me how we’d conceived child number three in the first place.

  THE END

  Books by Jessica Ashe

  Escape

  Score

  Redemption

  Foster

  Revenge

  Bad Boy’s Honor

  Bad Boy’s Secret

  Royally Screwed

  Hard Tackle

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  Royally Screwed

  Chapter One

  George

  The only thing hurting worse than my head was my neck.

  I tried to sit up, but my left arm was numb and wouldn’t move from the bed.

  The sun shone brightly through cheap curtains, blinding me and sending pain shooting through my head in the process. I recognized the nasty blue fabric covering the windows. I was in student halls again.

  I looked down and saw the reason for my numb left arm and bad neck.

  “Hey, sexy,” a petite young blonde said, with the sweet innocence that only eighteen-year-olds could pull off. She was lying on my left arm, although to be fair she didn’t have a lot of choice. Why did universities insist on putting single beds in student dorms? It was rather inconsiderate to those of us who like to screw students and then get a good night’s sleep after.