Big Bad Baller: A Bad Boy Sports Romance

by Tia Siren

  “Yes, Jesse. Yes,” I cried, seizing him by the hair and pressing his head between my legs. His skill and talent were incredible. He licked me from every angle, pushed and squeezed and stroked, never too roughly, never too gently.

  Moments later, I felt myself come. My whole body shook with it. Jesse paused and ran his wet lips against the inside of my thigh.

  “You feel better?” he asked, a cocky grin on his face.

  I manage to nod.

  “Good,” he said.

  Seizing me around the waist, Jesse flipped me over.

  He grabbed the tops of my thighs and pulled me to the edge of the bed, where he rammed his cock into me doggy style. It was electric, it was unbelievable and it was fucking deep.

  Jesse’s cock felt so huge it seemed to be delving into the full length of me, from my pussy all the way up to my chin. He grabbed me by the hair and yanked my head back, demonstrating his power and mastery over me. I screamed with pleasure as my insides molded to take him all the way in.

  Using the grip on my scalp, Jesse pulled me back and pressed my body against his. He jerked my head around and kissed me violently while his free hand grappled with my breasts. I felt utterly consumed. My mouth, my tits, my pussy, all were heightened to their peak with sexual explosions. I came again, so hard that my whole body flexed breaking his hold and slamming my torso back onto the bed.

  And then he did something I had never experienced before.

  Instead of rolling me back onto my stomach, he positioned me on my side, so my right hip pressed into the bed. He stretched my right leg out between his knees so that the whole length of me from shoulder to heel was splayed out beneath him. He lifted my left leg and hooked it around his waist so that my knee cinched around his hip bone, leaving me stretched, spread, and ready for him to drive inside me.

  He chuckled, gave my left nipple a pinch, and plunged into my pussy.

  The orgasm was almost instantaneous. I buried my scream in a pillow as I clawed and tore at the sheets. Jesse continued to pound at me, working the tip, working the shaft, slapping his balls against my inner thighs. His hand found my breast and jiggled it, now for his pleasure, with every endless penetration.

  Once more, I felt myself getting close, but this time he was coming along with me—pun intended. After a few more pumps of his hips, Jesse exploded inside me, filling me with wave after wave of cum. I had never been pumped full this way. Its depth was incredible. Its strength made my whole body shake and scream as I orgasmed as well.

  At last, his pounding slowed. He released his vice-like grip upon my breasts and slid his hand down the length of me, relishing in the dips and turns of my body. He slipped out of me, gave my butt a grateful pat, and collapsed onto the bed beside me.

  I chuckled, nuzzling against his shoulder. “It’s good to know me being pregnant doesn’t turn you off,” I teased, breathing in the sweet smell of him.

  “It definitely doesn’t. Just wait until you’re out to here,” Jesse replied, holding his hands in front of his tummy as if cupping a volleyball. “We’re going to be doing it all the time, but you’re going to be the one on top. Riding, riding, riding, every single time.”

  “Hey!” I protested, outraged. “I’m perfectly happy to play cowgirl even when I’m not huge, it’s just that you always seem so insistent.”

  “That I am,” he said, walking his fingers up the bridge of my nose. “That I am.”

  His other hand dipped between my legs to explore my throbbing flesh. I think, if we hadn’t been so worn out by our crazy day, we would’ve gone again.

  But now there were more serious things to think about.

  “We have to find a way to solve this,” I said in a stern tone.

  “What?” he said. “How to have sex when you’re baby huge? You stay on top, it’s easy.”

  “No,” I said and rolled my eyes. “What to do about my brother.”

  Jesse groaned as I expected he would. My words were certainly a mood killer.

  For several minutes we lay in silent thought. Then, ever so slowly, as if I dared even think it, something occurred to me. There was no question in my mind that my idea would be dangerous for Jesse, but the way I saw it, there was only one way.

  I turned toward him and kissed his lips lovingly. Then, I said in a solemn and sincere voice, “Jesse, I have a crazy idea.”

  Chapter 11

  All the time I spent only lounging and hanging out with Jesse made it easy to forget that he really was a celebrity. That reality came crashing down on me when he offered to give an interview at the town’s radio station and the execs accepted him on the spot. They scheduled a time within the next day, and I felt slightly guilty at their enthusiasm. I wondered how they would react to the contents of Jesse’s interview.

  We spent the night before the broadcast naked in Jesse’s hotel room. Though we clung to each other, we were too nervous to have sex. Our minds were too focused on the interview awaiting us the next day. We scripted what he was going to say and then rehearsed his lines until Jesse knew them by heart. Although I would not be saying anything, I would be with him at the station. His story, after all, was irrevocably tied to my own and to my brother’s. Still, when we woke up the morning off, I was incredibly tense.

  In a thoughtful gesture, Jesse requested a scrumptious breakfast through room service, but we only ate a few bites. I blamed morning sickness. Jesse didn’t have such a convenient excuse. He was nervous, plain and simple.

  After our little meal, we began getting dressed. It was funny. We would be talking over the radio, and therefore, no one would see us. Still, for some reason, I felt the need to put on my most carefully-adorned makeup and my loveliest dress. Jesse had chosen to abandon his usually colored tee and blue jeans getup for a full-fledged suit, with a tie that matched my dress. I realized we were borrowing confidence from our appearance. If we looked respectable, maybe, somehow, we could feel respectable.

  We left the hotel an hour too early and stopped at the hospital to check on Bill. He refused to see me, but the doctors assured me he was fine—or as fine as one could be in his situation. Just to be safe, Jesse tipped the nurse a fifty-dollar bill to make sure the radio was on the right station and within Bill’s hearing when our broadcast started.

  I really, really hoped he would listen. Being in peace with him would undoubtedly relief some of the stress I was feeling, which was a good thing since I was a bit nervous about the effects it would have on the baby. I prayed that, once the broadcast was over, we would finally find some peace in our lives so I could focus on what I knew I was meant to do: have Jesse’s child.

  As the car parked in front of the radio station, I gulped and reapplied my lipstick for what was probably the eightieth time. I licked my lips when I was nervous, so after only a few minutes, it was like I had not been wearing any at all.

  Jesse sensed my growing frenzy and soothed me with a kiss on the cheek. “It’ll be okay,” he promised, his forehead touching mine. “It’ll all be okay.”

  My God, I love him, I thought. Here he was, giving me strength when his head was the one going up to the chopping block.

  Strangely enough, I found great comfort in that thought.

  “It’s time,” he announced at last. “You ready?”

  “Yes,” I whispered. “And Jess? Thank you. Thank you so much.”

  He gave me a quick peck on the lips and got out of the car. The radio station was crowded when we arrived. Apparently, everyone who worked there, and their families, wanted an opportunity to meet Jesse Valen. I was glad we had taken the time to dress well since before we were ten feet through the front door and into the atrium, at least three little kids rushed up to us with their cell phones and began taking pictures.

  Crazy as it may sound, I, at the moment, felt like a movie star.

  After a couple minutes of pure madness, the broadcaster appeared. He was a big, genial guy who looked like John Goodman in blue jeans and a football jersey—a Jets jersey, of co
urse. He parted the crowd, hollering good-naturedly at everyone, and then ushered us into a smaller, more private room.

  “Hello, hello! I’m Tom Liyfest, your interviewer for today.” He shook our hands vigorously. “And you’re Jesse Valen, of course. Everyone knows who you are.” The man beamed at Jesse and then turned, slightly confused, toward me. “And you…?”

  “My moral support,” Jesse interjected. “Please, Mr. Liyfest—”

  “Oh, Jesse. Call me, Tom.”

  “Okay, Tom. This is Mary, my girlfriend. I would prefer that she be in there with me when I give the interview. Is that okay?”

  The broadcaster laughed and clapped Jesse on the back. “Of course. Of course! Anything you say, my boy. Should I hook her up, too? Is she speaking?”

  Jesse looked at me, and I shook my head in a vigorous “no.” Now that the moment was finally upon us, my nervousness consumed me. It threatened to claw its way up through my stomach and into my throat, choking me like a solid mass.

  On the other hand, Jesse seemed entirely at ease—much more so than he had been in the hotel room. I wondered if this was what he was like during football games: nervous up until the whistle blew, and then flawless.

  Tom led us inside his sound studio. There were microphones everywhere, surrounded by several long, comfortable couches so that whoever was being interviewed could sit comfortably. My heart lightened at the knowledge that I would be able to sit with Jesse and hold his hand.

  Again, even in this terrifying moment for him, he still had strength enough to spare for me.

  When Tom wasn’t looking, I snuck him the quickest of kisses. Jesse squeezed my hand, and we sat. Some technician adjusted the microphone so that it was positioned directly in front of his lips. Every word of his, every breath, would be heard.

  I inhaled and exhaled deeply. Here it goes…

  “You ready?” Tom whispered, giving us the thumbs up. “Three…two…one…and live!”

  A little red light flicked on just above the microphone as the rest of the lamps in the room dimmed. We were alone. Alone with our voices.

  “Good morning, good morning, good morning everyone! This is Tom Liyfest, bringing you the latest news and local gossip on Star 93.8, New York’s number one talk show station. Today we have a very special guest. He is not only a local legend but a celebrity of growing national fame, attracting both the coaches’ and the nation’s eyes in only his second year with the NFL. May I introduce, the one, the only, Jesse Valen!”

  Through the headphones, I could hear a fanfare playing as if Jesse was walking onto the soundstage and being greeted by an entire orchestra. In reality, it was just him and a small, sad smile on his face.

  “Good morning, everyone,” Jesse said, seeming entirely at home in this celebrity atmosphere. “This is Jesse Valen, folks, and I’m thrilled to be back in my hometown to celebrate with you before the preseason starts.”

  “And we are honored to have you, Jesse,” Tom exclaimed. “You certainly have a lot to celebrate. Twenty-five years old, and you are already being fought over by three different NFL coaches—”

  “Thank you very much, Tom,” Jesse interrupted, “Yeah, all of that is great, but I am actually not here to talk about football.”

  Tom blinked at us, opening and closing his mouth several times, looking like a goldfish, before he put his hand over the microphone, leaned toward us, and whispered, “Um…what?”

  “You heard me right, Tom,” Jesse said. “I’m actually here to talk about something much more important than football.” There was a baffled silence, after which Jesse laughed and said, “Yes, Tom, believe it or not, there are things more important to me than football.”

  His voice suddenly lost its playful tone. He became serious and, after a reassuring squeeze from my hand, Jesse leaned into the microphone as if confiding a great secret.

  “You see, folks,” he started, “I am here to talk about two people who are very near and dear to me. Everybody treats me like I’m some sort of hero. They think that because I’m pretty good at football, I’m better, or stronger, than everyone else. But I’m here to tell you that these two friends of mine are the strongest and bravest people I know.”

  He paused and looked at me. Unbidden, I felt my eyes start to water.

  Still holding my gaze, he continued, “The first one is Bill Taft. He was a local legend here as well, a star running back on my high school team and the only guy I know who could outrun me. Some of you may remember the scandal he was caught in about five years ago. He was arrested for a DUI after crashing his car. A girl was injured, but nobody was severely hurt—except for Bill.

  “Although he wasn’t physically hurt, the damage to his future seemed irreparable. He lost his scholarship, was booted off the team and waved goodbye to whatever chance he had of playing the NFL —and the trust me, his chances were greater than mine. His whole future was ruined by a single, stupid, young man’s mistake and everyone, everywhere, thought he was a loser. However, because I lacked Bill Taft’s bravery, there is one part of the story nobody else knows, no one except for me. It’s time that stops. It’s time people know the truth.”

  Jesse took a short pause and several deep breaths. His hand squeezed mine until it was cold and white, but I didn’t pull away. I decided to be brave as well and give him the comfort he always gave me.

  After a few seconds of dead silence, Jesse continued, “The truth is, ladies and gentlemen, that I was in the car, too. I was as drunk as Bill was and begged him to drive because I was not up to the responsibility of dealing with the consequences of doing so myself. I was in the car when he crashed it, and I saw…”

  For a moment, his voice wavered. I could see silent tears forming in his closed eyes, and they broke my heart.

  Jesse cleared his throat and continued, “I saw that Bill was trapped and that the girl was hurt—not terribly, but still … I also saw the police arriving and that out of the three of us, I had a way out. I could run. And so I did.

  “As a result of that night, Bill’s future was ruined, and mine skyrocketed to fame and fortune. Once the initial terror had passed, I returned to Bill and begged him to let me give myself up, but he wouldn’t let me. He was stronger, and more selfless, than I ever have been.

  “Though my career might suggest otherwise, that night, I felt as if my life ended just as thoroughly as Bill’s did.”

  He paused. My hand stayed in his because I knew he was not finished. Tom gazed at us, his mouth hanging slightly open, completely forgetting about the microphone in front of his face. After at least a full minute, so that the severity of the situation could sink in, Jesse resumed his public confession.

  “You may be wondering why I am sharing this with of all of you,” he said in a much steadier voice. “It is because I am tired of running. As you may remember, at the beginning of this speech I mentioned I would talk about two people I love. The first was Bill. The second is his sister, Mary Taft.”

  Jesse glanced at me, and I smiled at him. “The life of an NFL star is filled with parties and celebrities and beautiful women, but I felt incomplete and empty until Mary Taft came back into my life. She filled a void that I thought was unfillable and brought comfort to my soul, which I thought had been permanently damaged. She is sitting here beside me, and I just wanted to say, for all to hear, that I love her more than I’ve loved anyone in my entire life. I want her to be my wife so I can be with her every moment until the day I die.

  “But even this, ladies and gentlemen, is not the most fantastic news I have to share.” Finally, the tension in his face slipped away, and he smiled. “It is with great joy and utmost dedication that I tell you that Mary and I are having a baby. We’re bringing a new life into this world, and I want him or her to be born into a family of love and acceptance, not of guilt and secrets. So I’m setting the record straight. No more lies and no more cowardice. It is time for me to grow up and be the man my child needs me to be.”

  Across from us, Tom opened h
is mouth to say something, but Jesse wasn’t done. He raised a hand to stop the man and continued, “And Bill—I pray that you are listening—it’s time for you to become the man you were always meant to be. I’m so sorry for what happened, but it is not too late. That is what Mary has taught me. That is what this baby has taught me. That there is always hope for the future and, if you allow it, I would like to be part of your future.

  “Thank you, everybody. This is Jesse Valen, wishing you a great day.”

  With that, he reached up with perfect precision and switched off his microphone. He smiled, pushed it away from his face, and offered me his hand as he stood. I expected to be unsteady when I rose, perhaps even to fall over, but I was as sturdy and vigorous as he was. It was evident to me: together, we made each other stronger.

  Seeing that we were about to leave, Tom gestured wildly for us to return to our seats, but we only smiled, bowed in unison, and then left the room. Just as the door was closing behind us, I heard Tom say, almost shakily, “Well, folks, that was certainly exciting news, but we turn to our callers now. Let’s get some reactions to this fantastic bit of insight into the life of our local hero—”

  Then the door closed and everything, all of it, disappeared in an instant.

  Outside, the crowd of well-wishers was still waiting. When they saw us, they erupted into cheers.

  “What a man you’ve landed, huh? What a man!” some lady cried as she dashed up to me and shook my hand.

  Another person, this time an old man, marched straight up to Jesse and clapped him on the shoulder. “I think what you did was very brave, son,” he said. “I’m sure Bill will forgive you now.”

  “Thank you,” Jesse murmured, so humbled and quiet that one would never have guessed he was a national celebrity.

  Together, and after many congratulations and well-wishes—including some that featured strangers touching my stomach—we made our way out of the radio station and back to the car. It was only there, in the privacy of its hooded interior, that I gave Jesse a long, deep, and passionate kiss. I felt a warmth blooming in between my legs, and sensed his kissing growing urgent.