His Miracle Baby

by B. B. Hamel

  “Can I ask you something?” Charley said.

  “Go ahead.”

  “Why did you bring me out tonight?”

  I shrugged. “Maybe I just wanted to get to know you.”

  “I don’t think so,” she said. “From what I hear, you’re not much interested in getting to know anyone.”

  “Maybe you shouldn’t believe everything you hear,” I said, grinning. “Though maybe that’s true. Maybe I’m used to fucking more than I’m used to talking.”

  She blushed a little bit. “Is that why I’m here, then?”

  “Not yet,” I said. “But if you’re lucky, I’ll take you into the back and show you why I’m called Bull.”

  The waitress returned a minute later with a bottle of champagne, two glasses, and a glass of whisky for me. I poured Charley a drink and we toasted.

  I knocked my whisky back, loving the burn, and started feeling the music. I wanted to ask her if anyone strange had been hanging around her apartment at all in the last day, but I couldn’t think of a normal way of asking that question. I didn’t want to freak the girl out after all.

  “Come on,” I said, standing and taking her hand. “Let’s dance.”

  “Wait,” she said. “Hold on.”

  I didn’t bother waiting or holding on. I pulled her to her feet and led her out to the dance floor. She didn’t put up much resistance, and it wouldn’t have mattered much if she did. I towered over her, making her look tiny. She was maybe five foot four at best, and I was easily over a foot taller than she was, not to mention probably a hundred pounds heavier. I could easily throw her over my shoulder and take her wherever I wanted.

  And I wanted to feel her body moving against mine. I took her hips and we began to dance, her nice ass rubbing up against me. I practically folded around her as she moved to the beat, blending in with the other dancers.

  I loved the way she moved her hips. She quickly loosened up as two songs passed and began to dance harder, her body pressing against mine. She turned and looked up at me with this coy little smile that made my fucking dick even harder. I was sure she felt me hard against her, but she didn’t seem to mind one bit.

  I lost myself in the moment, dancing with this girl. Normally I’d be wondering when we’d get to the good fucking stuff, but for some reason I didn’t want the dancing to end. For the first time in my life maybe, I wanted to stay there and let the girl tease me just a second longer.

  She turned around and pressed her hands flat against my chest. She shook her hips and swayed with me, and I grabbed her hips, pulling her against me.

  I couldn’t wait a second longer. I pulled her tight against me and pressed my lips against hers, not sure what the fuck I was thinking.

  She didn’t pull back. She wrapped her hands through my hair and kissed me back, biting my lip, intense and passionate. We kissed like that on the dance floor, and I completely forgot for a second that I was famous.

  I shouldn’t be getting close to this girl. I had just wanted to make sure the mafia wasn’t giving her shit about the other night, and now I was kissing her in the middle of a crowd. That was stupid for a million different reasons.

  I practically felt the camera flashes. We broke our kiss off and I saw a few cell phone cameras out, flashing away as people took pictures.

  “Fuck off, you cunts,” I roared, and the cameras quickly went away.

  That was what happened when you were famous and you tried to have a little fucking fun. There was no goddamn privacy, not for me, not anymore.

  The moment was destroyed. I could see it on her face. I looked back at the assholes who had taken pictures, and I could see fear in their eyes.

  Good. That was what I wanted. I wanted those bastards to be afraid of me, because I could destroy them if I wanted to.

  I turned back to Charley, but she was already gone.

  “Shit,” I said, and quickly headed back toward the VIP booth.

  But she wasn’t there either. I looked through the club and even asked a waitress, but nobody had seen her.

  I left the club and called her number, but it went to voice mail.

  The fucking girl ran out on me. I couldn’t believe she’d gotten scared off so easily, but as soon as those phones started taking pictures, she got out of there.

  Fuck it. That didn’t matter. I got what I wanted from her. I made sure she was okay, and that was all I needed. My goal was just to make sure nothing weird was happening around her, and as far as I could tell she was fine.

  I texted my driver and leaned up against a wall, my arms crossed.

  If I got what I needed, why did I keep thinking about that kiss?

  Her lips had been soft against mine, but there’d been a passion there, a fucking hunger that I wasn’t used to. I’d been with plenty of women in my life, but most of them were only interested in my money and my fame. Everything else was secondary.

  But I felt something different from Charley. She didn’t seem impressed with the VIP and the champagne. The only time she really felt alive and present was when we kissed on the dance floor.

  I was fucking hard again just thinking about her, and that was driving me insane. I waited for my car, frustrated and annoyed but fucking intrigued.

  5

  Charlotte

  That was the stupidest mistake of my entire life.

  I’d thought I was going to be able to play it cool. I’d go out with Bull, maybe have some fun, and try to learn something about him. It was supposed to be research for the article and nothing more than that.

  Until it became something more, of course.

  It was the second we got onto the dance floor. He was so cocky and such an asshole, and it was easy to be annoyed with him. But once we hit the dance floor, I couldn’t resist it anymore. I’d been pulled toward him ever since we first met, and I wasn’t able to deny it anymore as our bodies moved together. Bull was a big man, but he knew how to dance with a girl. I could feel his cock hard against my body, but I pretended like I didn’t notice.

  It only got me excited, anyway. I was dripping wet as I moved my ass against him, his hands on my body, roaming down along my hips. I forgot all about the other people in the club and could only focus on Bull.

  And then I turned toward him, and I saw that cocky grin and the pure lust in his eyes. He wanted me, and I knew it for sure in that moment. There was just no faking the kind of look he gave me.

  I couldn’t have stopped that kiss even if I was thinking right. He tasted incredible, his lips soft, his stubble prickly against my skin in a good way. He kissed like a man, and it only made me that much wetter.

  Until the flashes started going off of course. Then I was brought back to reality very, very fast.

  I couldn’t be seen with Bull. I was risking my job by going out with him, let alone by kissing him. I was some low-level journalist and nobody knew me, but if those pictures got on the internet and my boss saw them, I’d be fired in a second.

  Sports journalists couldn’t make out with athletes. That was an unwritten rule, but a pretty important one.

  I had to get out of there. I couldn’t stick around with him another second. I didn’t know what I’d do if I let myself get sucked back into his orbit.

  So as he scared off the people taking pictures, I ran away. I ran like a scared little girl, because frankly, I was scared. I was so far out of my depth that I could barely breathe. I got outside, ignored his call, grabbed a cab, and went home alone.

  Except I kept thinking about that kiss and what it might have led to. Bull didn’t seem like the complete evil, partying douchebag everyone in the media said he was. There were elements of that for sure, but there was something else in him, too. He’d had a hard upbringing for starters.

  But no. No, I couldn’t go soft. Just because I kissed the guy didn’t mean he was suddenly a prince. He was still Bull, the violent asshole I’d always thought he was.

  Monday morning came and I headed into the office. I threw my stuff down ont
o the chair and half expected my boss to appear and fire me.

  “Morning, Charley.”

  I looked up. Dee smiled down at me.

  I freaking hated Dee.

  “Morning,” I said to her.

  “You look tired.”

  “Thanks,” I said, giving her a look.

  “Did you finish that article on the boys’ regional swim finals?”

  “Not yet,” I said. “Working on it.”

  “Good, good. No rush. I mean, who really cares about some kiddie swim meet?”

  I wanted to get up and punch her in the nose. Instead, I took a deep breath and looked at my computer.

  “By the way,” she went on, “did you see the new pics of Bull Dixon?” She laughed. “He’s making out with some skank in that new club—what’s it called, Club Envy or whatever.”

  Oh god. I wanted to throw up. I did a quick Google search, and there it was, a picture of me and Bull making out.

  Except you couldn’t see my face. Bull’s body was completely obscuring mine. In fact, I looked like just another club slut.

  “Nice one,” I said to Dee. I was sweating like crazy. What if she recognized me?

  “That guy is such a pig. Did you know that he sleeps with a new woman every night?”

  “That’s probably true,” I muttered.

  “Well, have a good morning. I hear Coop is in one hell of a mood.”

  “Thanks for the heads up.”

  Dee disappeared, probably heading off to annoy some other copywriter.

  She was a real bitch, but I was glad she’d shown me this image. If this was the only one, then I’d be fine. I’d have to hope that was the case, otherwise I was finished before I even started.

  The morning passed excruciatingly slow. I kept glancing at the clock and checking Google for new images, but nothing was coming up.

  Finally, as lunch approached, I thought I was safe.

  Until my phone vibrated.

  “Did you see the pictures of us?”

  I frowned. It was from Bull.

  “I saw,” I typed back. “It’s not very flattering.”

  “I don’t know. I think you look sexy. Too bad they can’t see that pretty face.”

  “I’m relieved. It’s embarrassing.”

  “Embarrassed of me? You should feel proud.”

  “Not of you. It’s just, I don’t know how my dad would feel if he saw a picture of me kissing some big guy on the internet.”

  I felt my heart leap at his next text.

  “Want me to make these pictures go away?”

  “Can you really do that?”

  “Of course,” he answered right away. “But I won’t do it for free.”

  I frowned, nervous, but I felt hope for the first time. I knew Bull had some power, or at least he had money and a PR team. Maybe he really could make this go away.

  “What’s your price?”

  “You have to see me again,” he said.

  “I don’t know.”

  I frowned, not sure what the hell I was thinking. All I had to do was see him again, and then he’d get rid of this picture problem. Plus, I’d get another chance to dig up some dirt on him for my article.

  This was such a good opportunity, and yet I was afraid of what I’d do if I saw him again, afraid of what Bull made me feel. I didn’t think I could separate myself from this and try to be a decent undercover journalist.

  “Drinks. That’s all.”

  “One drink.”

  “One drink, but at the location of my choosing.”

  “Fine,” I said. “Deal.”

  “I’ll see you tonight at eight. Check Google in a few minutes.”

  I sighed and put my phone away and then tried to get some work done. I finished up that boys swimming article and sent it off to Coop before finally letting myself check.

  The picture was gone. The links had all disappeared, and even the cached versions had been taken down.

  As far as I could tell, it was almost as if the picture had never existed.

  How the hell was this possible? Even if he could pay off the blogs, it had spread too far for him to really get it taken down. Even with unlimited money, it seemed impossible.

  And yet he made it happen. Bull somehow made the impossible happen, and that terrified me. It only made me wonder what else this man was capable of, and I realized again that I might be in over my head.

  But I had made a deal. I was going to see Bull again, although I knew that was a bad idea. He had possibly saved my career, though he didn’t even realize it.

  I took a deep breath. This was the chance of a lifetime. I didn’t get many second chances, and I wasn’t going to let this one slip away.

  6

  Bull

  Getting a picture erased from the internet was surprisingly easy. All it took was five thousand dollars and some mob connections.

  I didn’t love going to the mob like that, but I already had a long relationship with them. It didn’t matter one way or the other; I was already going to be paying for their services somehow.

  It was too late for me. I wasn’t getting away from the mob anytime soon. If I did, they would just tell the truth about me, and that could destroy my career.

  That was all ancient history, though. The picture was taken down, and Charley was mine for another night. She had agreed to one drink, but letting me choose the location was part of the deal.

  And I had the perfect spot.

  My car pulled up outside her apartment at eight on the dot. I got out again and rang her bell. This time, though, she was ready and was downstairs in only a few minutes.

  “Where to?” she asked as she got into the car.

  “You’ll see,” I answered.

  She sighed. “Come on, Bull, don’t make me guess.”

  “I’m not making you guess,” I said, laughing. “I’m just not telling you.”

  She sighed. “Fine. That’s frustrating, you know.”

  “Good. I like you frustrated. Maybe it’ll get you as wet as you were last night.”

  She blushed and looked away. “I wasn’t, you know.”

  “I know what?”

  “Wet,” she said. “I wasn’t wet.”

  “Liar. And you barely being able to say the word ‘wet’ gets me so fucking hard.”

  She sighed. “Can we talk about something else?”

  “If you want. I’d rather talk about that nice body of yours some more, though.”

  “Ryan said you weren’t what you seemed.”

  I shrugged. “Who knows what he meant?”

  “I think you do. Why did he say that?”

  “The media sees me as Bull the violent football player.” I shrugged again, smirking at her. “I can’t deny that’s true.”

  “So how are you different then?”

  “There’s more to a man than what he does on camera, Charley. You should know that.”

  I enjoyed the little confused look on her face as she stared at the window and then back at me.

  “Okay, fine,” she said. “You’re not going to tell me. Why don’t you tell me why you keep asking me out then?”

  “Because that kiss the other night set my fucking blood on fire. I can’t stop thinking about it.”

  “Oh,” she said, blushing again. “I see.”

  “You don’t see, but maybe you will.”

  She shook her head, mystified. “Are you always this confident?”

  I shrugged, grinning at her. “Maybe. When you break as many tough men as I have, it’s easy to have confidence.”

  “You do realize that you shouldn’t be proud of hurting guys, right?”

  “News to me,” I grunted.

  “You’re all professional athletes. When you injure them, you’re hurting their livelihood.”

  “I know,” I answered.

  “And you’re okay with that?” She was making a disgusted face.

  I sighed, shaking my head. “We’re fucking warriors. Do you understand tha
t?”

  “No. You’re just guys playing a game.”

  “We’re warriors,” I said again. “We’re gladiators. We go out on that field and destroy each other for your amusement. And you know what? We fucking love it. If I held back and didn’t hit as hard as I possibly could, those guys would be fucking insulted. I would never ask anything but the best from the men on that field, and I give them that in return.”

  “Sounds like a weak excuse for hurting people.”

  “Maybe,” I said, “or maybe you just can’t understand. We’re men at the top of our game playing one of the most dangerous and violent sports around. Normal people can’t understand that.”

  I watched her chewing that over in her mind as the car slowly wound up a long hill, moving outside the city. She stared out the window and I let her lapse into silence.

  She clearly had some ideas about me already. That couldn’t be helped, and frankly, it didn’t matter. She was like everyone else in the fucking world. She thought she knew what was right and how things should be, when really she had no real clue what men like me went through.

  I sacrificed every day of my life. I was destroying my body before the age of thirty all for the sake of the sport. Once I retired, I’d have nothing left to me. Sure, I had lots of money, but the game was my life. I was living fast and hard, because I had no real future.

  I did what I did because I was what the world made me. They wanted a man like me, a fucking villain. They wanted a man who broke legs and hit harder than anyone else. They wanted the fucking Bull to go on a rampage every single game, without regard for anything else.

  We were getting farther and farther from the city, the car slowly winding up a dark and twisting road. Charley looked back at me and sighed.

  “Maybe I don’t understand,” she said. “That’s possible. But I just can’t see how hurting someone else could ever be a good thing.”

  “There’s no good and bad, girl,” I said. “It’s just a fucking game.”

  “What is?”

  “Everything.” I grinned at her. “And I play it to fucking win. There’s nothing else.”