FORCE: A Bad Boy Sports Romance

by Vivian Lux

  "Fiona, can we start with you?"

  She turned back from the window and glared at me fiercely. I was momentarily forced to see myself through her eyes, and I didn't like what I saw. I looked spiteful, judgmental. I looked rigid and unyielding. I looked like a nagging, overbearing parent masquerading in a teenaged body. I looked like no fun at all.

  She pulled out her notes anyway. Because what I look most like is someone who gets shit done.

  By the time we had finished our outline and broken it down into assignments for the final paper, the sky had grown dark with forbidding clouds. Snow was starting to swirl around the light posts. I looked out the window grimly. My mother hated when I drove in the snow.

  "Okay, that's about it!" I chirped, clapping my hands together. I cringed at how much I sounded like a kindergarten teacher, but the group didn't even notice. They just gathered their things and left without saying goodbye.

  I was suddenly sitting all alone.

  I exhaled slowly and reminded myself for the millionth time that people don't like it when you ask things of them. It was something my father had repeated a million times before that.

  People by nature are lazy and unreliable.

  When you ask them to be anything else, instead of hating their faults, they hate you for pointing them out.

  It is difficult being a moral person in this world.

  He of all people knew that well. A cop on the Philadelphia streets for nearly twenty-five years, he had seen every type of failing there could be. The stories he brought home to his three daughters were enough to make us lose faith in the world.

  Except, he reminded us, for our family. We could count on our family. When everyone else around us fell astray, our family would remain as a beacon of how to live an upright life.

  That belief was not a way to win friends in college.

  I gathered my books slowly. I needed to hurry home, I reminded myself. My mother knew I was done with classes early on Mondays and would expect me home for lunch. She was worried enough about me attending college, in spite of it just being a community college down the road. She had internalized all of my father's stories long ago and now it was a daily struggle for her just to let me out of the house and into the big bad world. If I didn't come home during a snowfall, she would assume me dead on the side of the Schuylkill Expressway. Or murdered in an alleyway somewhere in Center City. Her imagination was strictly limited to imagining horrible deaths for her loved ones, but in that it excelled.

  A shadow blocked the doorway and I ducked my head instinctively. I don't know why I did that. It's not like I suddenly became invisible, no matter how much I wished it to be true. Ingrid could still see me there, alone in the small meeting room with nowhere to hide. But it felt easier to not make eye contact. Made me feel less guilty.

  "You all alone, Delaney?" Of course that was the first thing she'd bring up. Ingrid was not one for picking up social cues. Since freshman year started, she had made me her little project. I wished she would have chosen someone else to take under her little social butterfly's wing, but for some reason she seemed to delight in badgering me.

  "Heading home now," I gulped, willing her to just accept my excuses with grace for once. I couldn't figure out why she liked me, or even if she did like me. Her belligerent niceness bordered on aggressive.

  "Where's your shadow?"

  I looked at her confused, until I realized she meant Sean. I had already forgotten about him. "Gone," I said stiffly.

  She planted a hand on her hip and cocked her head sideways. "You know," she remarked with mock thoughtfulness, "I thought redheads were supposed to be all fiery and lustful and shit. You? You are ice-cold, Delaney." She ignored my indignant reaction and held up her hands to ward off my protest. "It's cool. You're this rare creature. It's like sighting a unicorn or something."

  I couldn't tell if she was making fun of me or praising me. "What?" I blinked stupidly.

  "Nothing."

  "I'm not ice-cold," I grumbled.

  "Prove it." She blinked her heavily lined eyes. Her makeup techniques fascinated me, even though I knew they would look ridiculous on my freckled skin. I left the liquid liner to the pale-eyed blondes. My only adornment was Chapstick. "A group of us are heading out," she spoke slowly, enunciating each word as if I was hard of hearing. I kept packing and rearranging my bag busily so I didn't have to see the sarcastic smile on her crimson lips. "Would you like to join us?"

  "I have to get back home," I muttered into my bag. "It's snowing."

  "It's winter," she observed drily.

  "My mom gets freaked out by the snow," I explained, then immediately wished I could catch the words and stuff them back into my mouth. My mom. Why did I have to mention my mom? How lame was I?

  She blinked slowly, like a cat, then shook her head, her pin straight hair swinging and rippling along her shoulders as if it were a liquid. "Does 'your mom' realize you're in college now?"

  I bristled, but tried to keep my voice polite. Ingrid was the only thing I had that approximated a girlfriend. I didn't want to offend her.

  "Thanks for the invite," I repeated. "Soon. Maybe once finals are over?" I said hopefully.

  She blew out some air out of the corner of her mouth. "You've got my number. I'll get you wasted yet, Delaney," she declared, but there was no more irritation in her voice. She smiled wanly and turned on her heels.

  Chapter 4

  Lexi

  Once Ingrid was gone, the library seemed suddenly abandoned. I hurried through the double doors and down the steps to the promenade between the library and the science building.

  Thank god I don't have to walk far, I thought as I grimly turned into the wind. The snow that had been dancing only moments ago was now starting to blow sideways. I trudged towards the commuter lot, grateful that I had arrived early enough this morning to snag a spot. As I trudged, I pictured my mom maneuvering herself to the front window and standing there staring into the snow, as if by the power of her gaze she could make me appear on the doorstep. The thought made me move faster.

  The early darkness of the approaching storm had caused the street lamps to turn on, but the swirling snow muted the pale circles of light. I could still see the dim outlines of other commuters heading to the lot. There seemed to be more than usual. I wondered if classes were cancelled because of the weather. I had only come in for my morning meeting and for that I was also grateful.

  I hurried forward, but as I did, I sensed someone behind me. My father's dire warnings about being followed echoed through my head and I turned nervously, my keys clutched in my fist, poised to lash out. There was a huddled figure about twenty feet behind me, hunched over in a too-thin black coat.

  I recognized it as Sean's coat as he got closer. I stopped short, hoping he wouldn't notice me and make things awkward. My heart hammered in my throat as I watched him trudge to his car.

  And just as I thought he was going to pass me without noticing, he lifted his head into the wind and stared.

  I ducked and quickly crossed the last ten feet to my car. I threw open the driver's side door and flung my bags into the passenger seat, then flopped low in the seat, slamming the door on the wind.

  But still he stared at me. His mouth worked slightly, shadowed by the streetlight. I don't know what sort of things he was saying about me, if they were angry or hurt or just sad. Everyone is right. I'm a cold, unfeeling bitch. What is wrong with me? Sean was a good guy, a nice guy. I could have very easily been his girlfriend in another life.

  He continued to look at me as I started the car. There was something about his eyes tonight. The way he was looking at me rattled me deeply and I couldn't place why.

  Guys only want one thing, I reminded myself hollowly. His eyes told me something different than my personal mantra. He looked like he wanted to talk, to find out where we had gone wrong. He looked shocked and hurt.

  He looked like Casey.

  With a lurch I realized that was exactly what had me so
rattled. He was looking at me the same way Casey had looked at me the horrible morning. Shocked, hurt, wanting an explanation that I couldn't bring myself to give.

  Because I didn't have one, other than I was fucked up.

  I was bad luck.

  I peeled out of the parking space, spinning my wheels slightly on the ice. I felt, rather than saw, Sean watch me go. I took the corner too fast and fishtailed onto Callowhill and had to take a deep breath and remind myself. Remind myself that Sean wasn't Casey. Casey was gone and I was never going to get to apologize to him. I was never going to be able to break the curse I had brought down on myself the day I ruined his family.

  I was never going to meet another boy like him, because there were no other boys like him.

  ***

  It was my twelfth stiflingly hot Philadelphia summer and fans weren't cutting it to keep my sisters and me cool. My parents promised they were saving for a new window unit to replace the wheezing, sputtering one in the living room, but things were tight on my father's cop salary. My mother had reluctantly agreed to take part time work in a dentist's office, instructing me very closely on how to stay safe on our summer vacation.

  "You're my little mommy now, Lexi," she had smiled tiredly at me.

  "I know I am," I had answered, half excited, half in fear.

  "Don't open the door for strangers."

  "Of course not," I scoffed.

  "And don't leave the house."

  But the AC wasn't working and we weren't allowed to go into my parents' bedroom, the only other place in the house that had a unit. And the house was stifling. And my sisters were whining. And I couldn't take it anymore. I had to get out of there.

  "Let's go to the park!" I urged them, clapping my hands together.

  Sarah had jumped up and down in six-year-old glee, but Mary looked at me shrewdly. She was ten and believed that she didn't need a baby sitter, least of all me.

  "Mommy said we weren't supposed to leave the house," she sing-songed in the most tattle-tale, middle sister voice she could muster.

  I rolled my eyes. "It's just the park," I scoffed. "It's like five houses away."

  "Eight," she corrected primly and I rolled my eyes again.

  "You want to go, Sarah?" I turned to my bubbly baby sister. She was always eager to tag along, no matter what. She had a perpetual fear of being left behind.

  "Yes, please!" she shouted, remembering her manners.

  "That's two against one," I informed Mary. "Majority rules."

  When we stepped out into the neighborhood, I was suddenly wary. My mother had explicitly told us not to leave the house. We were sheltered Catholic school girls and there were bad people everywhere who wanted to steal us away from our parents. She knew this because my dad knew this and they had drummed it into my head too. I suddenly wanted nothing more than to flee back into the stifling house.

  I couldn't lose face in front of Mary, and Sarah was looking at me with her adoring brown eyes. She looked up to me, I remembered, and squared my shoulders. "Okay, let's go!" I said nonchalantly, carefully locking the front door with my newly acquired house key.

  The playground was at the end of our quiet little block, butting right up against the park I heard stories at school of the bad public school kids and what they did down in there near the Wissahickon Creek. Swimming naked...and worse. I shuddered with the thrill of morbid curiosity.

  "Not so fast, Sarah!" I shouted. She was sprinting pell mell down the cracked sidewalk, directly towards the path of a man walking towards us. The weird old guy from the corner who never talked. I felt my throat close tightly in panic and sprinted past the dawdling Mary to grab my baby sister's arm.

  "Are you crazy?" I hissed, eyeing the man fearfully. "He could have snatched you!"

  Her big brown eyes widened in horror and filled with tears. I felt a weird satisfaction in terrifying her and kept talking. "You need to stay close to me. Only I can protect you."

  She nodded solemnly as Mary caught up. "I told you this was a bad idea," she sing-songed, and I gritted my teeth.

  "Okay let's go, but hold my hand."

  I sighed with relief to see there wasn't anyone at the playground and released my iron grip on my sister's arm. She gave a little squeal, her terror already forgotten in the sight of the huge metal slide

  "I'm going on the swings," Mary told me in what my mother would term a 'snotty' tone of voice. But the fact that she was telling me meant that she was finally deferring to my authority, and that was all I wanted.

  "Be careful," I intoned, taking on my mother's habit of sighing the last syllable of each word. I stood rooted to the spot for a moment, my head swiveling between Sarah's shrieking glee at having the slide to herself and Mary's morose, half-hearted swinging. I wasn't sure what my role was anymore. Should I sit on the bench and watch them? But I kind of wanted to swing myself. But then I wouldn't be able to watch Sarah.

  I was paralyzed with indecision, caught between being a kid and my role as little mommy, when out of the corner of my eye, I saw movement near the bushes.

  Chapter 5

  Case

  Her legs stuck out stiffly on either side of his face. He felt her shudder and raise her hips off the desk. "I'm coming!" she shouted.

  I know, he thought as she squeezed his face in a vise-like grip. But he didn't stop. He buried his tongue further into her. He slipped his finger into her sopping wet center and hooked it forward, wiggling it in a little 'come here,' gesture. Her muscles clamped tight around him and she bucked like a fish out of water on top of the desk.

  "Fuck!" she screamed. "Fuck! Fuck!"

  Yeah that's next. He stood up and slid the rubber over his tip. Her eyes were still rolling back in her head when he plunged himself inside of her. She was tight and hot in all the right ways. He thrust himself upward, hearing the wet smack of their bodies coming together. This was the best part, right beforehand. When he still knew he had them loving him. When he was still the best thing that had ever happened.

  It lasted only as long as he did. And this one had him all riled with her filthy mouth. The tight bunching of his muscles turned into a full on spasm and he growled long and low as he spent himself inside of her. She gasped out a few more tiny shrieks, rubbing up against him, crazy for more, crazy for him in this moment.

  And then it was over.

  "Fuck," she gasped one more time as he pulled himself away. The sudden coolness hit him quickly. He snapped the rubber off and flung it into the office trash can. He would have to remember to take that out when she left.

  Any minute now.

  "Case," she sighed, trailing her finger down his jaw. Her nail tickled the hairs of his beard still wet with her juices. "Why you gotta be so good, hmm?"

  He just shook his head. He knew what was coming.

  "Ugh, if only my husband could fuck me like that."

  There it was.

  He watched as the bliss on her face drained away, replaced by guilt. Remorse. Remorse for being with him.

  "Fuck," she repeated again, but this time there was no pleasure in hearing the word. "I need to get home."

  He leaned against the desk, tucking himself back into his jeans. A paper fluttered from the desktop onto the wooden floor.

  "Case?" She looked stricken by his lack of speech. But what did this bitch want? Professions of his undying love? She was a married housewife, bored and looking for adventure. He was a biker, bearded and dangerous with a gift for fucking. That was all the connection they had.

  "What, Bobbi?" he sighed.

  "Can I see you again? Thursday maybe?"

  Fuck if he was going to be kept waiting til then. Let this bitch squirm a little. "Got club shit to do," he growled. Her expression changed to one of thrilled curiosity and he rolled his eyes inwardly. He leaned in and brushed a casual kiss across her pouty lips. Her full breasts were still exposed, and he allowed himself a tweak of her dark nipple.

  "I'll call you," he intoned.

  He wouldn't.
/>
  She must have known that. Her mouth opened and then closed, registering hurt. He turned away and picked the paper up off the floor. When he stood back up again, the bell over the front door of the shop was dinging.

  She was gone.

  Good.

  Case walked over to the customer bathroom and splashed some water on his face. A little dab of handsoap to mask the scent of pussy in his beard. He needed a beer.

  Lorraine in the morning and now Bobbi at lunchtime. And still his dreams had him all riled. He stood in front of the sink for a second, then splashed a handful of water over his neck, rubbing his hand over the spot where Bobbi had bitten him. Long ago there had been a different, much sweeter pair of lips on that spot. Lips that had kissed him tenderly. With love and softness.

  Shut the fuck up, he told his brain. Just shut up and let me have some goddamned peace.

  Lexi, his brain shouted louder. Hunter and Jonah. And Lexi, Lexi, Lexi.

  He needed a fucking beer. That would shut it up.

  Case trudged through the back door that opened into the clubhouse. Voices echoed off the high metal ceiling of the garage. His brothers had gotten started with the drinking ahead of him. Thank god. That meant he would have to catch up.

  Crash spied him first and hailed him with a boisterous, "What's up, motherfucker?"

  Case grinned, grateful to silence the clamor in his head. "She was indeed a mother," he nodded, reaching for the beer J. silently offered. "Think she has two brats at home. Maybe three."

  "She sure didn't have the mouth of a mother," J. observed as he sat back down in his camp chair and crossed his ankle over his knee. "Such language. My virgin ears are deeply offended." Case laughed. "The fuck were you doing to her? I couldn't tell if she was enjoying it or trying like fuck to get away."