FORCE: A Bad Boy Sports Romance

by Vivian Lux

  His fingers traced along my side, from the curve of my hip up to my waist and across my back to close gently, but firmly around my neck. That little gesture of possession. I arched my back, pressing my ass against him and those little springy hairs that surrounded his cock. I felt it stir as he spoke into my ear. "The wanting you," he breathed. "From the moment I met you, I didn't want anything else, I just wanted you. Again, and again and...."

  His words were lost as he moved in between my legs. "You're going to kill me!" I complained, even as his tongue flicked across the soaked rim of my pussy.

  "You're going to kill me," he retorted, looking up at me from between my legs with that devastating crooked smile. "And I'm gonna die right here, a happy man."

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Declan

  My pulse was racing in my throat before I even opened my eyes, and when I saw the dark of the bunk, it didn't slow. Something was wrong

  Just a dream, asshole, I chided myself, you're turning into a fucking sap. It was true. That call from Crash had fucking rattled me for an entire week now, getting all tangled up in my dreams like the scratchy, sweat-soaked sheets tangled around my legs. Tonight I had dreamed about the boy dying, me far away from him, able to see it but do nothing about it. It was stupid, he was fine, from the sound of him, and I was fine except for the being stuck in this fucking safehouse part. Everything was fucking fine so why were my senses on high alert?

  I recognized the sound from my dream, a high whine, like a far off car on a distant highway. Right at the edge of hearing, but I honed it on it like a laser guided missile. "Mac?" I whispered in the dark. "You hear that shit?"

  The grizzled old vet didn't say anything, surprise surprise, but I heard him sit bolt upright in his bunk. The shadow of his lanky frame was tense, and I saw his hand trail down to find the gun that never left his side.

  I swore and reached for my piece.

  "Fuck is that?" Case growled, shifting on his bunk, the springs groaning and protesting.

  "Sounds like a hive of angry bees or something," hissed Thorn, still a country boy at heart.

  J., the heaviest sleeper out of all of us, murmured something and collapsed over with a snore.

  I heaved myself over to the side of my bunk and pulled on my boots, holding my breath. It was the sound of cars, a whole lot of them, and a few cheap ass rice-burner motorcycles on top of it. Whoever it was, they weren't trying to be subtle. They wanted us to know they were coming.

  I slipped my knife into my boot, my heart racing still faster. It was chilly in the bunkhouse, but that meant nothing to the stinky sweat of fear that began to bead up on my forehead.

  "Fuck. They found us," Case exhaled heavily.

  "Get the fuck down!" I cried, as the front of the house exploded in a hail of gunfire.

  The shouts of alarm rang through the house as everyone scrambled to their weapons. The ratatat assault of automatic fire made my blood run cold. "Fucking sounds like Baghdad in this shit," growled Mac, and I could hear the steel in the Gulf War vet's voice. He was going into commando mode instinctually, crawling forward on his elbows with his prized Sig Sauer P229 .40 caliber in his hands. Case and the other young guys weren't so careful, rushing towards the fight brandishing their Glocks like a bunch of gangstas. Teach and the guards on duty were already firing back, the loud reports of their AR-15s cracking like the pop of thunder before the storm rolls through.

  I hauled my fat ass to my feet, cursing my knees, my back and the world around me as I rushed blindly into the dark. There was a strange elation, an electricity whirring in the air around me. After five weeks of sitting on our asses, waiting for something to happen, it finally was. The world narrowed down to a crystal clear pinpoint, and everything moved in slow motion as I rushed into battle. My heart rate slowed down, my senses crystallized and I recognized the adrenaline that came with working my rotation in the emergency room. You move without conscious thought; brain and body in perfect synchronicity. Decisions come quickly and easily with no second-guessing. I knew what was going to happen before it did.

  And that was why I turned and rushed to the side door.

  When they started shouting for me, I was only a few feet away. I sank to my knees in the mud and was already feeling for Thorn's pulse before Case stopped bellowing for me. "Where was he hit?" I demanded. The pulse was there, weak, but steady, and I began to feel for the wound.

  "I don't know, fuck, he was in front of me the stupid kid. He just fucking dropped like a rock." Case was right behind me, practically shouting in my ear. "I dragged him around here, get him out of the way. Those fucking bastards, I'm going to kill..." his words faded into an incoherent growl, and I heard him tear off back into the fray.

  "Fuck kid, you got a target on your back or something?" I hissed as I located the wound. A clean shot, straight through his side. Entrance wound in front, exit wound in back, no major organs. Between this and the bullet that had grazed his cheek over the winter, this kid was amassing an impressive array of scars at a young age.

  "Must be," he croaked out in the dark. "How bad is it, Doc?"

  "You're going to live," I told him. "It's just going to hurt like fuck for a while."

  "Hurts like fuck right now," he grimaced. "Fucking cold."

  The full moon peeked out from behind a cloud and suddenly the lawn was illuminated in a blue glow. I could see Thorn's face ghostly in the moonlight, pale with shock, the sweat making him glimmer. All around us was the sound of gunfire and yelling. "We need to get you off the damn lawn," I muttered. "Can you walk?"

  Thorn lifted his head and I saw the dark blood spurt from the wound. "Stop it," I commanded.

  His head fell back, his eyes unfocused. "Oh fuck me," I whispered.

  I bent carefully, my knees screaming, my lower back in agony. I lifted the kid around the armpits right as the moon disappeared behind another fucking cloud. "Shit." I growled. The door was only about ten feet away, but in the pitch dark of the Pine Barrens, it may as well have been on the wayward moon. "I got you," I told Thorn as a moan escaped the kid's lips.

  Then I began to drag him in the direction of the door. Slowly, so fucking slowly, how did I ever get so goddamned fat in the first place? How did this shit happen? I yanked on the kid, pissed at myself, and drew another moan from him. "Shit fire," I bellowed, resolving to start a weight loss regimen, healthy eating, weights with the young guys all of that shit I should be doing just as soon as this hellish moment was over. Just a few more fucking steps and we'd both be to safety.

  There was a sudden, stabbing pain in my lower back, worse than any pain I had ever felt. My legs would no longer hold me and the boy and I both tumbled down into the mud.

  It was cool down there, felt good on my sweaty body. I could feel the cool mud against the skin of my arms, soaking through my already dirty T-shirt. But there was warmth too. A warmth spreading along the skin of my back. It spread down and down and then suddenly stopped. It was strange how I just couldn't feel it spreading any lower.

  With a start, I realized that was because I couldn't feel my legs.

  "Help!" I screamed into the pitch-black night. I waited for the moon to come out, for someone to see us lying there, for someone to come. "Help!" I yelled again, as I felt the warmth become cold.

  There was a shout and some voices. As if it knew I needed it, the moon came out above us and suddenly there was a face peering down. It was asking me something, yelling at me for some reason, but all I wanted to do was float away to that big, beautiful moon. I was so damn tired.

  So I closed my eyes.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Gabriela

  I created a ringtone for him, because that's what people that are coupled do for each other. Or so I figured, how the hell would I know?

  It was "Crash Into Me," by Dave Matthews Band. I didn't much like the song, but it made me giggle like a twelve year old whenever I heard Dave repeat "Crash into me! Crash into me!" whenever Crash called because he want
ed to get into me.

  I was clearly not mature enough to be in a relationship. But then again, neither was Crash. We had that in common.

  It had been exactly a week to the day since we exchanged I love yous and I hadn't stopped smiling since. I had off that day, so I was lolling around in bed, contemplating the onerous task of actually getting myself vertical when my phone lit up with Dave's dirty talk set to music. I could barely control the fit of giggles and almost missed the call. "Hello?" I sniffed, trying to swallow back the mirth.

  "What are you wearing?" Ben adopted a mock-suave tone.

  I rolled over in bed and looked at the clock. It was only nine in the morning. He must have worked an overnight shift at Jokers. Sometimes Sal let him help with restocking when they got a new shipment of kegs. "Actually, I'm in bed, soooo, nothing," I confessed.

  "You're in bed, naked, right now?" he said excitedly. "Oh Christ, I'll be right over."

  I giggled some more. "Go ahead, I'll make you breakfast," I offered, suddenly wide awake. "What do you want?"

  "Coffee," he yawned. "With a side of you."

  My whole body flushed and I felt that urgent downward surge. "Well hurry the hell up," I groused. "Before both me and the coffee get cold."

  "Bye," Crash clicked the phone off before I could say another word and I laughed again, staring at the ceiling.

  I was so fucking happy it was strange. This lightness, this comfort, it was such a new feeling inside of my skin. I felt beautiful, I felt confident. I wanted to run up to strangers on the street and tell them, "I'm in love. Me. Gabi Ortiz, can you believe it?"

  I rolled out of bed and pulled a pair of yoga pants over my naked legs. They were Crash's favorite pair and I knew he would protest if I dared to wear anything by way of underwear. I yanked on an old T-shirt and piled my curls into a knot on my head that added six extra inches to my height. I caught a glimpse of myself in my battered vanity mirror. Old Gabi would have thought she looked like shit. New Gabi, the one who saw herself through Ben's eyes, knew she looked beautiful.

  I unlocked the front door and set about in the kitchen, starting the old Mr. Coffee I had stolen from the dumpster at work and rummaging around in the fridge for suitable breakfast food. I came out with a block of cheddar cheese and some eggs and figured I'd make omelets.

  The butter was just melting in the pan when I felt a pair of hand snake around my waist. "Jesus fucking Christ!" I screamed, nearly knocking the egg carton to the floor. "How'd you sneak up on me like that?"

  "You get very focused when you cook, " he answered, swiping a wayward curl behind my ear. "It's cute as hell."

  He must have known I was in the mood to holler at him some more, because he pulled me in for a long, lingering kiss. His stubble grazed my cheeks as he pressed my lips open, conducting a leisurely sweep of my mouth before pulling back.

  "Sorry," I muttered, "I didn't brush my teeth yet."

  "Tasted fine to me," he smiled, turning and grabbing a mug from the cupboard above the sink. "Caffeine," he groaned, mimicking a zombie.

  "You poor thing, have you slept?" I asked, holding out the pot. He held out the chipped navy blue mug he had already claimed as his own, and I poured the steaming hot coffee out for him.

  "Nope," he grinned, cupping his hand around the mug and taking a huge gulp.

  "Ben, that's like pure steam, how can you drink it that hot?"

  "You're right, it definitely needs something," he said, setting it down firmly.

  I was turning to the fridge to get him an ice cube when I felt him press against me from behind. I gasped when his fingers sank down below my waistband, staggering back as his fingers found the hot, buzzing pearl of my clit. "Aaah, that's what I need," he growled into my neck, letting his fingers dance along my soft folds for a second.

  I sagged backwards into him, helpless in the onslaught, the wetness rushing down to meet him so fast I could feel his fingers sliding inside of me as if by accident. "Jesus fuck," I gritted as I shuddered and shook. I collapsed forward against the counter, cheeks flaming, as he pulled his soaked fingers from me and casually sat back down.

  He made sure I was looking at him. Then, slowly and very deliberately, he ran his wet finger around the rim of the coffee mug, lining it like a salted margarita glass. Then he took a sip. "Perfect," he breathed, exhaling in contentment.

  "You...," I gasped.

  "Me," he nodded, idly sucking on his fingers.

  When I finally collected myself enough to finish cooking, I found that I had a hell of an appetite. Orgasms make me hungry, and apparently giving me orgasms make Crash ravenous, because the two of us made short work of an entire dozen eggs before we finally gave up on propriety and started eating directly from the block of cheddar.

  "Hey!" I protested as he snagged the last crumb of cheese.

  "Sorry, I was hungry."

  "How on earth are you still hungry?"

  "I'm a growing boy." That elusive dimple popped out of his stubble and I felt my resolve weaken.

  "Do you want something else to eat?" I asked, getting up to stare at my fridge. "And don't say me!" I barked at him, whirling around just as his mouth was opening.

  He popped it back closed so quickly that I had to laugh. Crash hid a yawn behind his hand. "Nah, thanks babe," he said, "I was just messing with you. I'm actually full for like the first time in my life." He smiled. "If I had known how well Latinas cooked I would have maybe stuck around longer in the past."

  "Oh really?" I brandished a spatula at him. "Clearly you were sleeping with subpar Latinas."

  "Clearly," he agreed, getting up to nuzzle my neck. "Babe, you mind if I lie down a sec? I'm wiped."

  "Go," I pushed him. "I was going to wash my hair today anyway."

  "I'll see you tonight," he joked.

  "Shut up, we're doing something today."

  "Yes ma'am," he nodded as he fell backwards onto the bed.

  "You're teaching me to ride a motorcycle. You've been putting it off."

  "Have not," he protested with a yawn.

  "You have. I told you, it was not a request, it was a demand."

  "Ooh, order me around some more, my lady," he muttered, his voice drifting off into sleep. He let out a small puff of breath and his jaw relaxed.

  I knelt by the bed and watched him sleep for a moment, savoring the peace on his face. I tugged the blankets up over his body and kissed his scarred head, feeling that same peace inside of me.

  Love. It was all very strange.

  Chapter Thirty

  Crash

  "I did well, didn't I?"

  I laid back on the futon and watched her tight little body as she shimmied her way out of her street clothes and into those lovely yoga pants. I was so intent on watching her that she shot me an impatient look over her shoulder.

  "You did great, babe," I nodded.

  "I think I'm getting the hang of it," she went on, yanking a shirt over her head. When she turned to face me, her nipples saluted me and my mouth went dry.

  "Uh yeah, totally," I agreed, sitting up, my raging boner too uncomfortable in this position. "Next we'll work on you maybe going faster than ten miles an hour, whaddya say?"

  She came over to me and smacked my shoulder. "Teacher's fault, not mine," she protested. "You started me out on a road, I was terrified."

  "You did better in the parking lot, for sure," I agreed, tugging on her waistband. I wasn't really in the mood to talk anymore, and Gabi knew it, She sighed one of her kitteny little sighs and sagged forward into my lap, burying her head on my shoulder and nuzzling my earlobe.

  I pounced on her exposed neck like a starving man in sight of food. That curve just drove me fucking crazy. There were so many different ways I could kiss it; light and soft and teasing, or hard and rough, practically biting, and every variation in between. I was on a mission to kiss every atom that made up her perfect golden skin.

  I was making pretty good headway when my phone vibrated in my pocket.

  "Fucki
ng Sal," I muttered into Gabi's neck.

  "Tell him to go fuck himself for me," Gabi gasped as my mouth teased across the fabric separating my lips from her erect nipple.

  "I'll do that." I yanked the stupid thing out of my pocket and stared at the number, all the blood draining from my limbs.

  "Who is it?" Gabi asked me from very far away.

  Case.

  My mind went dark seeing his name on the screen. Case and his girl, my old girl, the straws that had broken my back and run me out of Philly. It seemed so far away now, almost ridiculous that it had mattered to me so much that I was willing to break an oath to get away from the pain. Lexi, fuck, I hadn't spared a thought for her since meeting Gabi. If Lexi was a candle, then Gabriela Ortiz was the whole fucking sun.

  "Yeah?" I growled into the phone. This cocksucker better have something damn important to say to me.

  "You're alive?" The big bastard sounded exhausted and afraid. All of the hairs stood up on the back of my neck. I sat up quickly and Gabi jumped from my lap. My confused cock yearned after her even as my mind went into overdrive.

  "I'm alive, yeah, what the fuck?"

  Case breathed heavily into the phone for a moment, I heard scraping sounds, then a muffled conversation. Then his voice came through much clearer than before. "Doc got hit."

  "What is it?" Gabi demanded, fear in her voice. I could see her looking at me, terror written on her beautiful face. Fuck. Oh fuck me.

  "Got hit?" I repeated.

  Case seemed to rally. "Safehouse got attacked last night. Cartel bastards or maybe their hired bitches, whatever. They hit us hard and then sped off into the night. Some of the Storm guys tried to follow them, but we were too slow."

  I didn't give a shit about the narrative. "The fuck did you say about Doc?" I heard my voice rising, the colors around me threatening me with their vivid brightness. No, fucking no, not Doc.