Perfect Spiral (A Playing Dirty Sports Romance Book 2)

by Lane Hart

  “Deal,” I agree.

  She taps on her phone and then turns the screen around, showing me a photo of Brady in his game day Wildcats attire, his blue eyes open…with a smile on his chubby little face.

  “He’s smiling?” I ask, taking the phone from her hand to look closer.

  “He’s smiling,” she replies with a giggle. “Notice anything else?”

  “Well, he’s decked out in his team duds, of course,” I reply with my own grin.

  “No, about his smile,” she says. “It’s crooked.”

  “Hey now!” I exclaim indignantly. “So is mine…” I trail off as the realization hits me. “Brady has my smile.”

  “Yeah, he does. It’s adorable,” she says, followed with a laugh.

  I stare in wonder at the photo, and yeah, I can already see it, his resemblance to me even though he’s only a few weeks old. And the thought makes me feel proud, not just because I think I’m a handsome motherfucker, but because there’s someone in the world who is well and truly mine.

  My happiness at this newfound awareness is short-lived, because I know it’s what Callie’s missing and wants more than anything. It’s a shame that an asshole like me gets to experience something so amazing by an unexpected surprise from Bianca while she’s tried for years to have it.

  “Does Brady remind you of your sister?” I ask her when the thought hits me. Callie rarely mentions her, and I assume it’s because of how bad Bianca hurt her.

  “A little,” she answers on a sigh.

  “What was she like?”

  “Bianca was…she was always getting into trouble, even when we were little. Actually, it’s hard for me to remember the good parts of our childhood because the most recent years overshadow them. All I can think about is our mother’s lies and drug addiction, Bianca following in her footsteps, stealing from me every chance she got and then the affair. The bad parts are all there’s been for the past few years.”

  “I’m sorry,” I tell her, brushing a strand of her blond hair behind her ear.

  “She wasn’t a good person, but I never thought she would hurt me as badly as she did,” she admits, tears swimming in her eyes. “I feel guilty because I’m not sure if I could’ve loved Brady if he had been her and John’s.”

  “Hey, that’s perfectly reasonable given the circumstances,” I assure her. “You loved them, and they hurt you. Of course you wouldn’t want to see the proof of their affair thrown in your face, especially when he’s the one thing you’ve always wanted.”

  “I’m so glad you’re his father,” Callie says, reaching up to rub her hand over the side of my face. “You’re a better man than John will ever be, and Brady’s lucky to have you.”

  “I couldn’t do this without you,” I tell her honestly. “Brady may never know his biological mother, but that’s probably for the best. He’ll grow up thinking of you as his mother and knowing she couldn’t have loved him more.”

  Even though Callie loves Brady, she probably won’t ever let herself think of him as her son. She wants her own children, and she deserves to be a real mother. I’ll do my best to make it happen for her.

  And there’s no time like the present to try and put a baby inside of her.

  Rolling over on top of Callie, I cover her lips with mine and kiss her slowly, unhurried, different from most of the times we’re together when it feels like a race to get inside of her. Actually, that was pretty much how it went with every hookup I can remember. Urgent and needy. But Callie’s different. I’m not in a hurry to get us off so that I can make my escape. Neither of us have to go anywhere until tomorrow morning, so there’s no reason to rush. Even after that, I know Callie will stick around, and I want her to.

  “I’m glad you’re here,” I tell her. “And I want us to go out, like a real date.”

  “A date?” she repeats with a stunning smile. I want to see that smile on my son's or daughter’s face too someday.

  “Yeah, a date,” I reply. “There’s this team Halloween party next Friday night if you want to go with me.”

  “Do I have to wear a costume?” she asks.

  “Yes. And I get to pick it.”

  “Fine, but I get to pick yours,” she responds, her gray eyes shining with mischievousness.

  “Okay. Are you gonna tell me what it is in advance?”

  “No. It’ll be a surprise.”

  “I’m gonna look ridiculous, aren’t I?” I ask, knowing she will go out of her way to put me in something outrageous.

  “Oh yeah,” she answers. “And I’m guessing I’m gonna look like a slut, right?”

  “Oh yeah. I’m picking the sluttiest outfit I can find.”

  “This will be Brady’s first Halloween,” she reminds me. “We’ll have to get him a costume.”

  “It is, isn't it? What do you think he should be?” I ask.

  “I could crochet him a brown hat and sack with the white lines to make him look like a football,” she offers.

  “That would be perfect!” I tell her.

  “Then, we could get some photos of you in your uniform holding him.”

  “How is it that you always guess what I want before I even know what I want?” I ask her as I kiss her again.

  “Just lucky I guess,” she answers and then squirms underneath me. “Now, based on the battering ram between your legs, I’m guessing you want us to both get undressed.”

  “Right again,” I tell her, rubbing my nose against hers.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Callie

  Things with Quinton the past few weeks have been good. Really good, and I don’t just mean in bed. He’s been incredibly sweet, holding my hand while we watch late night television, and especially when he’s snuggling with Brady. I’m pretty sure I’m falling in love with both of them.

  While things between Quinton and me may have started as just a friendly favor, now I’m starting to think it’s much more than that. By owning my body he’s starting to gradually conquer my heart. And I’m starting to think that maybe I’m actually beginning to win over the notorious bachelor.

  Quinton has publically called me his significant other in the media, which he’s never done with a woman before. I met his parents when they came to the Monday night home game, and afterward, at dinner, I blushed the whole time while Quinton gushed about me. They were nice, and it was great to see that he was raised in a loving home with both parents instead of a broken, dysfunctional home like mine and Bianca’s with our drug addicted mother.

  Trusting Quinton will never be easy given his reputation and my past, but I’m trying to overcome that as best I can.

  For example, tonight’s the team’s Halloween party at a fancy hotel ballroom, and I’m trusting Quinton not to dress me in lingerie. Well, at least not until we get home later.

  On the other hand, getting to see him in the costume I picked may be worth the public humiliation of dressing like a slut in front of all his teammates.

  “Oh, Callie!” Quinton calls as soon as he walks through the front door of his house.

  “Ugh, let’s get this over with,” I say when I get up from the sofa to meet him. Underneath the white plastic clothing bag, he’s holding what I’ll be forced to wear for the next few hours. The lopsided grin on Quinton’s face says he can’t wait.

  “I knew you wouldn’t want a costume too…revealing,” he starts and reaches out to grab me, running his massive palm down the curve of my side. “Even though you would look sexy in anything.”

  “Whatever,” I mutter, certain that I’m nowhere near as attractive as most of the women he’s been with.

  “So I picked one that’s basically a dress,” he tells me.

  “How short of a dress?” I ask while trying to raise the plastic bag to see it.

  “Uh-uh,” Quinton says, jerking the concealed costume up and away from me thanks to his gigantic height. “I haven’t gotten my welcome home kiss yet.”

  “It must be bad if you think that after I see the dress al
l you’ll get is a slap across your face instead of a kiss,” I remark.

  “Shut up and kiss me, woman,” he orders, his palm squeezing my side.

  “Fine, but just a kiss. I only have an hour to get ready,” I warn him since most of our greeting kisses result in us getting naked and fucking on various places in the entry way or living room.

  “Just a kiss,” he agrees as he leans down.

  “On my lips only,” I clarify based on previous experience.

  “Just a kiss on the lips. Jeez,” Quinton mutters before covering my lips with his and shoving his tongue into my mouth. That’s all it takes for me to start trying to climb him. My arms wrap around Quinton’s neck, but I instruct my feet to stay on the floor instead of wrapping around his waist, lining up certain body parts…

  Okay, fine, I didn’t say I wasn’t the main instigator of our naked greetings, but we really don’t have time tonight.

  Pressing my palms against Quinton’s chest, I force myself to stop kissing him and take a step back.

  “Let’s see it,” I tell him, hoping he can’t tell how embarrassingly much I want him from just a kiss.

  “Fine,” he huffs. “But I could’ve made it a quickie.”

  “Yeah, right,” I mutter sarcastically. “The only time you’ve been quick was when Brady started crying; and then when you got back, we went at it for another hour.”

  “Is that a complaint, because I’m certain you weren’t complaining after those three orgasms, or was it four I gave you?” he asks with a grin.

  “Quit stalling and show me the costume,” I tell him before I take him up on his non-quickie quickie.

  “Okay, okay,” he finally agrees. “I’ll just save it up for later when I get to fuck you as a fairy.”

  “A fairy?” I ask.

  “Yep,” he says as he lifts the plastic bag, revealing a forest green spaghetti strap piece of satin that could pass as a shirt. A poofy, dark purple tutu billows the skirt out from underneath, matching the purple flower on the sash around the waist.

  “That’s…small,” I say.

  “There are wings too,” he informs me, turning it around.

  “Right, I’m sure they will distract from my ass that will be hanging out,” I reply.

  “You don’t like it,” Quinton says, his shoulders slumping in disappointment.

  “It’s cute and sexy,” I admit. “But about twenty years too young for someone my age to wear.”

  “What’s with you and your age?” he asks. “You look hot, better than most women in their twenties. You should dress more like you did in Cincinnati.”

  “I dunno,” I grumble, glancing down at my jeans and tee. “When I dress that way, I just feel like I’m trying too hard to be young and trendy but epically failing.”

  “You’re not,” Quinton tells me. “And who cares what anyone else thinks? You’re not fake or plastic, and that’s what turns me on. You’re naturally beautiful, and I can’t wait to see you in this costume.”

  “Well, when you say things like that,” I tell him with a playful shove to his rock hard, unmoving chest. “Besides, it’ll be worth it to see you in your costume.”

  “I’m gonna be humiliated, aren’t I?” he asks.

  “Yep. Which is quite a feat, making the big, handsome Quinton Dunn look silly, but I’m pretty sure I can accomplish it.”

  “It can’t be worse than the ladybug costume Kohen had to wear, so let’s see it,” he says, right before the doorbell rings and interrupts the surprise.

  “Oh, good! That’s Kelsey,” I tell him since she’s coming to stay with Brady tonight. “Let her in, please. Your costume is in your room. Go change, and I’ll get ready in the guest bedroom before the big reveal,” I say as I take the bag with my costume and start down the hall, smiling to myself.

  Quinton

  “Ho, ho, ho, green giant,” Lathan says to me with his phone in front of him, snapping photos of me once he recovers from his long fit of laughter. “I can’t wait to post these all over social media.”

  “Great,” I mutter, running my fingers through my green hair before I realize that, by lifting my arm, I’m nearly flashing the room my boxer briefs thanks to the short, leafy green dress. That’s right, I’m wearing a fucking dress because Callie thought it would be funny to dress me up as the Jolly Green Giant. Although smock sounds much more masculine for this one shoulder garment.

  “So, what are you, a burglar?” I ask Lathan as I examine his black face mask revealing only his eyes and a tunic with dragons on it.

  “I’m a ninja!” he replies indignantly, pulling out his sword.

  “At least I have the excuse of being forced into this costume. What’s yours?” I ask him with a snort.

  “Hey, anything is better than a dress,” he counters, sheathing the sword again.

  “It’s a smock, and Callie picked this one because I’m big and giant,” I tell him, trying to preserve what’s left of my masculinity.

  “She picked it to make you look like an idiot,” he says, followed by a chuckle. “And it worked.”

  “Yeah, but have you seen her outfit?” I ask him. Turning around, I point across the ballroom to where I left Callie standing with Roxy while I wait in the long line for drinks at the bar.

  “Damn,” Lathan mutters. “She looks so much better than you in a green dress.”

  “It’s a smock…oh, forget it,” I mutter in defeat as I watch my woman laughing, so beautiful and fuckable in that sexy dress that nearly reveals her ass, her petite legs looking long and lean thanks to the gold heels.

  I quickly look away and turn back around in line to avoid getting a hard on that would definitely be noticeable in the dress. Smock. Whatever.

  “So have you really only been with her for the past, what, five or six weeks?” Lathan asks quietly, so no one else will overhear.

  “Yes,” I admit honestly. “And I don’t miss the anonymous hookups at all.”

  “Really?” he asks. “I find that hard to believe.”

  “What Callie and I have is better.”

  “Better for now, but what happens when you get her pregnant?” Lathan asks. “Do you really think she’ll stick around after she gets what she wants?”

  “I do. And if not, then I’m not doing something right,” I admit.

  The truth is, I’m scared. Terrified even, that Callie doesn’t feel the same way about me. I’m in love with her, and I’m not sure what it will take for her to want us to be together for the long haul. Lately, I’ve started thinking about crazy shit like marriage, something I never thought I wanted before. Maybe I’m hoping that if I get Callie pregnant, she’ll be so happy that she’ll realize that she actually cares about me too.

  On the flip side, I worry I’ll keep letting her down every month until she gives up on me. On us.

  Chapter Thirty

  Callie

  “So is this the infamous ladybug costume that Kohen had to wear?” I ask Roxy while I wait for Quinton to return with our drinks.

  “It is!” she replies with a grin. “Oh my God, that was so funny. Almost as funny as Quinton as the Jolly Green Giant.”

  “Yeah, I figured a little humility would do the arrogant ass some good,” I tease while glancing over at him in line. “But it doesn’t seem to have much of an effect on his allure,” I add when two girls dressed as slutty Wonder Woman and an even sluttier Harley Quinn walk up to him and Lathan. The women are young and very…fit.

  “Oh, you don’t have anything to worry about,” Roxy tells me. “See how those Lady Cats are touching him and batting their fake eyelashes?”

  “Unfortunately,” I grumble.

  “Quinton hates that shit. In fact, he told me that for the past few months he’s tried to use the corniest pick-up lines he can think of to run women off, and failed every time.”

  “Aww, how sad,” I mutter sarcastically.

  “Yeah, he was waiting for you,” she says with a smile.

  “Me?” I ask. “Quinton nev
er wanted someone like me.”

  “Oh yes he did,” Roxy replies. “He wanted someone who could see past the famous name and the big pay day. Someone who still thought he was an asshole and told him so because he was tired of being used. Then you came along and not only turned him down but punched him.”

  “So he just wanted a challenge?” I ask, the thought making me feel a little sick.

  “Yes, the challenge of convincing a woman who couldn’t stand him to love him anyways, for who he is when he’s not on the field,” she clarifies in a way that sounds…sweet.

  “He’s a good guy, and an even better father,” I admit. “I was wrong when we first met.”

  “That’s all he wanted from you,” Roxy says. “Now he’s just worried about what you want from him.”

  “He, um, he told you about that?” I ask, somewhat embarrassed that Quinton told his friends that we were sleeping together because I want a baby.

  “Yeah, and we all thought he was crazy to agree to it, not because of money or anything, but because he has the most to lose if he gives it to you.”

  Is that what Quinton thinks? That if I get pregnant I’ll up and leave, taking the baby with me?

  “I would never do that to him,” I tell Roxy.

  “Good,” she says. “Now I won’t have to kick your ass.”

  That makes me laugh, her being protective over a giant man like Quinton.

  “And if I were you, I would march on over there and tell those bitches to keep their hands off your man.”

  She’s right. Why should I just stand here and watch while they paw all over him?

  “Nice meeting you, Roxy,” I say to her before I cross the room. When I reach Quinton and the women, I grab Quinton’s hand and start pulling him out of line. “Forget the drinks, giant. It’s time for you to fuck this fairy,” I tell him loud enough for the slutty superheroes to hear.

  Chuckling behind me as I lead him out of the ballroom and through the glass doors that leads to the pool and beach, Quinton asks, “Are you jealous, baby? Because you shouldn’t be.”