Hard Tackle: A Bad Boy Sports Romance

by Jessica Ashe

  I froze and stayed still as hooves thundered past me, barely avoiding trampling all over me.

  I bloody hated horses.

  * * *

  “We’ve raised a record amount for charity,” Harry said excitedly as he slapped me on my bruised back. “Your appearance here really made a difference. Falling off the horse probably helped as well.”

  “Glad I did some good,” I replied.

  Next time I’m staying in the bedroom with Sophia. I’ve never fallen off a bed before.

  “Look,” Harry continued, “usually all this money would go to the Prince’s Trust, which I guess you may take over soon, but I’ve convinced the organizers to let you nominate the charity.”

  “Oh sure,” I replied. “Let’s give it to the Mary Kay Foundation.”

  An easy choice for me, given what had happened to my sister, although a few hundred pounds wasn’t going to go too far in the grand scheme of themes. Still every little bit helped.

  “Excellent, I’ll get it set up.”

  I looked around for Sophia and saw her running over to me from the stables where she’d spent some time with the horses.

  “You’ll be pleased to know your horse didn’t suffer any injuries,” Sophia said, as she stretched up and kissed me on the cheek.

  “Oh, excellent,” I replied sarcastically. “I’m delighted to hear that. I was so worried about the creature. As I was falling, all I could think was ‘I hope the horse is okay.’”

  “If you’d have listened to the training, you would have had your feet in the stirrups properly and you wouldn’t have fallen off.”

  “I was too distracted by you in those tight trousers.”

  I reached around and squeezed her arse firmly before she slapped my hand away.

  “There are cameras everywhere.” She flushed red and bit her lower lip, which meant we would be heading back to the hotel as soon as possible.

  “Let’s get out of here,” I whispered in her ear.

  “Okay, but I am not straddling anything tonight. My thighs are killing me.”

  We were just about to sneak away when I heard Harry’s voice over the loudspeakers dotted around the field.

  “Thank you ladies and gentlemen for coming here today. And thank you for bringing your cheque books.” A gentle laughter rippled over the crowd which by this point was giddy with champagne. “As you all know, we had a special guest here today.” The crowd all turned to face me which meant I had to force a smile and wave. “Mr. Whittemore has nominated the chosen charity, so we will be sending a check for £135,000 to The Mary Kay Foundation.”

  There was probably more applause at this point, but I was too stunned to notice.

  “Was I hearing things,” I asked Sophia, “or did he just say £135,000?”

  “It’s a wealthy crowd.”

  “Holy. Shit.”

  Maybe being a prince isn’t that bad after all.

  The second Harry had finished his little speech, I escaped the crowds and got changed into some normal-people clothes.

  “Ready to head back to the hotel?” Sophia asked. Then she leaned close and whispered in my ear. “I’ve kept the boots.”

  I groaned in anticipation, and was about ready to pick her up in my arms and carry her back to the waiting limo when I remembered something else we should be taking back with us.

  Harry ran over the second I caught his eye.

  “What’s up, George?”

  “Uh, I’m going to need that whip back.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  George

  There was nothing more wonderful in life than a woman who had no idea just how beautiful she was.

  She kept catching me staring at her in the car on the way to the hotel. I probably looked like a creepy stalker, but I just couldn’t take my eyes off her. Here was a woman who could get me going just by sitting cross-legged in the car and typing out text messages on her phone.

  Sophia wasn’t perfect. Even though she was no shrinking violet—not by any stretch of the imagination—she hadn’t let me bring the whip back to the hotel room. Something about not wanting to be treated like a horse. There was just no pleasing some women.

  The second I had money, I’d insist on a limo to drive us around everywhere. At least that way we would have privacy. I couldn’t bear sitting in the car for twenty minutes without being able to rip the clothes from her body and devour every inch of her.

  But of course, the second I had money, we would split up and go our separate ways. That was the plan after all.

  I forced those thoughts from my mind when the car pulled up next to the hotel, and the driver opened the door. We would soon have some privacy; that was all that mattered right now.

  My balls were heavy and my cock throbbed in my pants. I’d once gone a week without release when I was a teenager as part of a dare. That’s what this felt like, except one hundred times worse because Sophia was right beside me, her presence a constant tease on my already-strained patience.

  The ache—bordering on pain—got worse with every second I wasn’t inside her tight, wet sex. Did she feel the same way? She looked to be handling the wait with remarkable ease, whereas I was about to explode.

  We didn’t speak as the elevator moved painfully slowly up to the top floor. I dug the keycard from my wallet—eventually finding it hidden between loads of credit cards—and we stumbled into the room. We’d been alone in the elevator, but even so, the door slamming shut signaled an end to being under public scrutiny for the time being.

  That meant sex.

  At fucking last.

  “You look tense,” Sophia teased.

  “You have no bloody idea,” I replied.

  “Want me to order a massage? They have a nice young man called Diego on staff. He’ll come up to the room if you want.”

  “The only hands I want on my skin are yours. Come here.”

  Sophia bit her lip, and for a painful moment I thought she might play hard to get. She turned her back and walked slowly towards the bed. Standing with her back to me, she pulled off her top, before dropping it on the floor.

  “Stay there,” she commanded, just as I went to half walk, half fly across the room towards her.

  Sophia reached a hand behind her and unclasped her bra, letting it fall softly to the floor. It took all my willpower not to dive over there. Just knowing her breasts were exposed had my cock straining to be set free. Her nipples would be stiff, eagerly awaiting my warm mouth.

  Next came her trousers. Sophia hooked her thumbs under the waistband and—excruciatingly slowly—pulled them down to her knees, before bending at the waist and taking them all the way down to the floor. At some point, she stepped out of them, but my eyes were too transfixed on her arse—barely covered by her skimpy knickers—as she pointed it at me, challenging me to move from my spot.

  Finally, Sophia turned around to face me, wearing just her panties. “You like?” she asked.

  “I’d like them a lot more on the floor.”

  Sophia smiled, and slipped her panties off just as she had done her trousers before.

  I didn’t know where to look.

  “You can come over now,” she said.

  How long had I been standing there for? I was almost drooling at this point.

  I resisted the urge to run up and throw her down on the bed. Instead, I walked up, and kissed her softly on the lips, as if were a mature adult in a relationship. Weird.

  Sophia moaned in my mouth as our tongues met. My hands began exploring the soft skin of her back while she wrapped her arms around my neck and held on tight.

  I couldn’t kiss her for long before the urge to take her breasts in my mouth became impossible to resist. Sophia sighed as I circled a nipple with my tongue, while pinching the other gently between thumb and forefinger so it didn’t feel left out.

  “You need to get naked,” Sophia said between heavy breaths.

  “Yes, m’lady.” I’d never undressed so quickly. The second I was naked,
Sophia was handing me something else to wear. I tore open the packet with my teeth and quickly sheathed myself.

  This time I did push her to the bed. She fell down with her legs invitingly open, but instead of diving between them, I lay down next to her and continued caressing her skin.

  Sophia held her breath as my fingers trickled over her breasts, down to her belly, and then to her sex. My fingers brushed lightly against her soaking folds, but I didn’t enter her. She was ready for me, and I wanted my cock to be what took her from the starting line all the way to the finish.

  “You’re so beautiful,” I muttered, as I moved my hand to her thigh.

  “Fit for a prince?” she joked.

  “Fit for a king.”

  “I’ll settle for a prince for now.”

  My hand moved back up to her chest, where I felt her heart pounding against my palm. “You nervous?”

  “No. Excited.”

  I leaned over her and pressed my lips against hers as I moved between her legs and guided my cock to her slick entrance. I looked into her eyes as I plunged myself deep inside her. Sophia moaned deeply, and wrapped her arms around my back as I filled her completely.

  Her hips rocked in time with mine, as my cock slipped in and out of her increasing wetness. I knew that her breasts would be pert and her nipples hard, but I couldn’t take break my gaze from her eyes.

  Time lost all meaning. We were in rhythm with each other, body and mind, and I lost myself completely in the moment. It could have been a minute later or twenty minutes later, but at some point, I felt the muscles in her body tensing up. Her fingers dug tighter into my back, and her pussy clenched hold of my cock, reluctant to let me leave her.

  She came in almost complete silence. Only the tension of her body and then the eventual release let me know that she had finished.

  “Come on me,” Sophia whispered in my ear. “I want to feel your excitement on my skin.”

  Those perky breasts were crying out to be covered in cum; it was a miracle they’d stayed dry this long. I thrust harder and faster, bringing myself right to the edge, like I had done with Sophia.

  Just in time, I pulled out, rolled off the thin silicone covering my pulsating shaft, and then shot my load all over her perfect breasts. Shot after shot splattered onto her chest and belly, until I was completely spent.

  I collapsed back down next to Sophia and admired the Jackson Pollock painting I’d made of her body.

  “This is where you get me a towel,” Sophia said, as she lay there rigid, unable to move without my release dripping down her.

  “Nah, I think I’ll just leave you like this.”

  “If you do, I’m going to lean over and give you a nice, sticky cuddle.”

  “I’ll get a towel.”

  Sophia wiped herself clean and then we did cuddle; it was still a little sticky, but I’d never push her away. I wanted to hold her in my arms and never let go.

  But we were on a timer. At some point, we would go our separate ways again.

  Sophia squeezed me tightly as if she were thinking the exact same thing. Maybe she was.

  I returned the squeeze and kissed her firmly on the forehead, as she rested on my chest. Somehow she fell asleep, despite my heart rate pounding heavily against her ear.

  I stayed awake as long as possible, just watching her breathing, but eventually I closed my eyes and drifted off for a much needed post-sex nap. This time there was no need to slip out from under her and do a runner. I was right where I wanted to be.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Sophia

  I didn’t mean to touch it.

  Even after napping yesterday afternoon, I’d still fallen asleep within minutes of closing my eyes when we’d finally stopped screwing and gone to sleep. During the night, I must have turned over and rolled away from George, so the first thing I did on waking up was turn over and rest my head on his chest.

  My hand went to his stomach, and there it was. Hard, and ready to go.

  “Morning, gorgeous,” George said, sounding like he’d had twice as much sleep as me. I could barely open my mouth to speak, and, given my morning breath, that was probably for the best.

  Was it possible to hear a twinkle in someone’s eye? I didn’t have to look up to him to picture the look on his face. The throbbing hard cock under the palm of my hand did kind of give it away.

  “How do you have any life left in this thing?” I asked, giving his cock a casual shake. “I’m surprised it hasn’t fallen off after last night.”

  “It’s like a muscle—the more you train it, the stronger it becomes.”

  I tried not to think too hard about all the “coaches” who’d helped train George’s manhood over the years. I didn’t care—not really—but it wasn’t exactly an image I wanted to keep in my mind. I’d had my share of coaches after all. Not as many as George, but a decent enough number that I was no longer playing in the minor leagues.

  “Got any energy for a training session this morning?” I asked. I wrapped my fingers around his cock and stroked it slowly. Every pulse of the vein against my palm had me wetter and wetter between the legs, as I anticipated feeling it inside me.

  “No training,” George replied. “I’ve been training for the last ten years. You’re the main event. You’re what I’ve been training for.”

  I propped myself up on one elbow and looked at George while I kept stroking his shaft. “You’re saying you slept with all those other women for my benefit?”

  “Anything for you, sweetheart.”

  I laughed and shook my head. “You’re really lucky that I want this cock in me, or we would be having a very different discussion.”

  I quickly rolled away and looked down at the floor, littered with clothes, condom wrappers, and—fortunately—one last condom still in its wrapper. George held out his hand for the condom, but I pushed it to one side and tore open the packet myself. If men could manage it, how hard could it be?

  I pinched the tip of the condom and slowly rolled it all the way down to the base. Even sheathed, I could still feel it throbbing away in my hand, like it might explode at any second.

  George pulled me towards him, and kissed me deeply. If he cared about my morning breath, he didn’t show it. His hands squeezed my breasts firmly while I reached a hand down between his legs and guided his cock into my sex.

  Slowly, I pushed my hips down and took him inside me, my wetness immediately soaking the condom and the hair around the base of his cock.

  God, I needed that, I thought as I rocked gently on top of him. Had it really only been a few hours? My hands rested on George’s chest, my nails digging into the skin wrapped tightly around his muscular torso, while I rode myself to the edge and then quickly over it.

  Practice really did make perfect.

  * * *

  When I was in George’s arms I felt safe, secure, and happy. When he let go, I couldn’t think of anything other than the email from Stan. I stared at my computer, knowing that if I opened it up and logged into my email, I would find the blackmail attempt and the ammunition to back it up.

  Stan could destroy my life with the press of a button, but I could still cling to the hope that he wouldn’t do it once George renounced the throne. Stan was a bastard, but he’d never been vindictive. If he’d wanted to punish me for leaving him at the altar, he could have released the photos a year ago. He probably thought I still had some of him, but I’d gotten a new laptop and phone when I moved to the UK, and I’d never uploaded our sex photos to the cloud. Still, it would be a good idea to let Stan think I had some of him as well. It’s not like they would get much public attention, but they would still embarrass him. He hadn’t exactly been as naturally ‘gifted’ as George in the downstairs department.

  George strolled back into the bedroom wearing just his boxers, and climbed back into bed next to me. “They want me to do another charity event. The last one raised a record amount of money.”

  “People really are suckers for a pretty
face,” I replied.

  “It’s got nothing to do with me. Everyone loves us as a couple. You make a beautiful princess.”

  A few days ago, those words would have filled me with joy, but now they terrified me. I didn’t want to be a princess any more. Being a princess meant having the world see me… intimately. I couldn’t handle that. I was barely used to being in the spotlight at all, but to date it had all been positive. That would change when the world saw the other side of me.

  I forced a smile, and let George wrap his large arms around me. I felt safe again.

  “Is everything okay?” George asked. “You’ve been a bit quiet lately.”

  “I thought I was quite loud actually. Especially when you started spanking me.”

  “You know what I mean. I can’t put my finger on it, but you’ve not been yourself recently. Are you having second thoughts about all this?”

  “No, of course not. It’s just weird to hear you say I’m a beautiful princess.”

  “You are though. You should get used to hearing it.”

  “Except I’m not going to be a princess, am I? So I don’t really need to get used to it.”

  George hugged me tighter and kissed me on the forehead. “You deserve to be a princess, and I’m going to make you one.”

  “You can’t. And that’s okay. I don’t mind any more. Being a princess is probably overrated anyway. It’s like what you were saying about being a prince; you don’t have any say over your life and spend your entire time cutting ribbons.”

  “I’ve been thinking about that,” George said slowly. “Maybe it won’t be that bad. The royal family isn’t as important these days, so I’ll have more freedom, and I can raise tons of money for charity. It might even be enough to make a difference one day.”

  “That’s great,” I replied weakly. “So you want to be a prince?”

  “I thought that’s what you wanted? You thought I was crazy for giving it up.”