Playing Dirty: A Bad Boy Sports Romance

by Mickey Miller

  I nodded. I’d been in intermittent contact with them since I’d moved. “Three older, two younger,” I told him. “I was the middle child and only girl, so I was pretty much a tomboy growing up.”

  He blinked. “Wow. Five brothers. That had to have been interesting.”

  “Yeah, it had its moments,” I said, nodding and rummaging around for my own PJs. My very not-at-all-sexy PJs. “Baseball sort of occupied our world. It kept us close, you know? Especially after my parents divorced. It distracted us, made the transition to two homes bearable…” I trailed off. Jake was staring, and I was rambling again. “Anyways. Dad was a player, a long time ago, so we all really got our love of the game from him, from the womb, probably.”

  “Ah, that’s why you played softball and were so amazing at it, huh?” he said.

  I glanced over at him. “I loved it and I was good at my position, but I wasn’t like you,” I said, resuming my task. “I never had your kind of raw talent. I could have tried to keep playing professionally but, ultimately, I knew it wasn’t my future. So I got my degree and went into sports PR. So far, I’m liking it. I still get to be close to what I love.”

  Jake gave me a thoughtful smile, and we stood there for a quiet moment before he thanked me again for the PJ bottoms. “I’ll take the couch. Do you have an extra toothbrush or something?”

  “How lucky are you that you have me?” I teased.

  He laughed and I got him the extra stuff. I cleaned his knuckles, and once the dried blood was washed off, it didn’t look bad. He said it didn’t hurt much as he wiggled his fingers and worked out a few kinks in his hand. It would probably be stiff for a few days, but he would be leaving for a three-game series tomorrow. I had a feeling his coaches and trainers would have a fit once the news broke out. Their star pitcher in a fist fight. I had yet to look at my phone and had even turned it off. I didn’t want to know. At least not for a few more hours.

  After we had changed into our PJs and I had taken out my contacts, Jake went into the living room, sat down on the couch, and put his feet up on the coffee table. He turned the TV on and fired up the Apple TV.

  I opened up the fridge and called to him from the kitchen. “You want something to drink?”

  “Yeah babe, you got a beer?” He said the word babe so nonchalantly, I had a sudden flash forward thirty years, kids having finally gone off to college, and him asking me the same thing.

  What the hell is wrong with me?

  When I looked over, Jake was looking back at me, but he immediately turned back around and started going through Netflix. Maybe he called every girl he knew ‘babe’? Or maybe he didn’t. I took out a couple Goose Islands and walked to the sofa. After I handed him his beer, I sat down cross-legged. He lounged next to me like he owned that spot on the couch. Like we did this all the time. I hadn’t felt this comfortable around a guy…ever. I thought about the public Jake and the private one. One was a friend to everybody, and the man before me seemed like he had no friends at all. Not really. He didn’t get close; he didn’t let anyone get close. If you kept everyone out, you wouldn’t get hurt. I understood that, too. And it was a very lonely road.

  He looked over at me, catching me staring intently at him. “What?”

  “You’re so weird, but your weirdness is what makes you awesome. I don’t understand why you don’t want your fans on social media to know the real you,” I said candidly.

  He shook his head, snapping open the car of beer. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  Surprisingly, Jake seemed truly offended. “I just meant…you’re nothing like your social media persona. If I had to guess how you were based on your Instagram pictures, I’d say you were a binge drinker who occasionally hung out with models.”

  He nodded. “I like that persona though. And that persona is me…times ten.”

  I scrunched my face. “And thus, you’re weird.”

  “Nuh-uh. You’re weird.”

  I laughed. “What are we, in sixth grade? You’re teasing me about being weird.”

  He paused and gave me an up-and-down.

  “You’re right. They only thing you are is weirdly hot. It’s not fair that you just tempt me like this, and you’re so off limits.”

  My heart started to beat faster. “I’m like the least attractive I could possibly be right now,” I said, pushing my glasses up my nose. “Seriously, I’m more nerd than hot.”

  Jake huffed and moved a little toward me. “You seriously have no idea how hot you are. And you’re not even trying. I think that makes you even more hot.”

  “Really, what’s hot about me?” I realized I probably sounded like a vain, vain person to say that, but I wanted to know. Jake’s mind was a puzzle to me.

  And he didn’t seem to mind answering. “Well, where to start? Your hair has that messy but still-smells-good-from-going-out thing going on. It’s pretty. You’re confident enough to wear your glasses around me, when most girls think they have to look put-together at all times, even when they’re sleeping. That makes you beautiful. Your tank and PJs aren’t sexy, but you in them is, and I can’t stop staring—so yeah, all that is what makes you hot.” He took a sip of beer and stared at the TV. “Then there’s the fact that you don’t seem like most girls I’ve known my whole life since being on the fast track for the professional league. You’ve never seen me as Jake Napleton, the sports athlete. But just me, Jake. I don’t like people prying into my life, but I think you knowing is okay. I don’t feel like you’d use it against me, or judge me. I like that you know things about me that most don’t. Like it’s our secret.”

  I sat there, stunned. Jake went back to flipping through Netflix, and I just sat there, not sure how to process all that, because it was the longest speech he’d ever given. And they were all really amazing things, things that hit me dead center and made me warm all over. It made me like him even more. And that was dangerous. Jake wasn’t a guy that would last. I already knew that. But I was falling for him, and my attraction to him would only get deeper.

  “Wow, okay,” I said, nodding. I blinked slowly and swallowed, my throat dry and my palms clammy. “That was quite…nice of you to say all that. And on that note, I’m going to go to bed.”

  Abruptly, I set my unopened can of beer on the coffee table, and then went inside my room and shut the door. I thought I heard Jake croak out a “good night,” but I was in a familiar mode right now: panic mode.

  Just like at our dinner, I wanted to flee. This time, there was no Grant to distract or confuse me. This time, I was afraid of what I’d do, afraid I’d really step over the line and break all my rules. I needed to get the thought of doing anything sexual with Jake off my mind, and there was only one way I could do that—by falling asleep as fast as I could.

  The AC had started to kick in, so I slipped under the comforter. My skin was hot and so sensitive to the touch that I could feel every thread of the comforter scraping against me. I made sure my phone was on the nightstand, putting it on silent and ignoring all the missed calls, emails, and texts. Everything would be better in the morning. It had to be.

  I lay there, not at all sleepy, and wondered what it was that I really wanted. It was all just a giant haze inside my head. Here I had this gorgeous man on the other side of the apartment, yet I couldn’t be with him.

  Why not? asked a voice inside my head.

  It would never work. Just drop it. I’m not that kind of girl.

  And if you were, would that really make you a bad person?

  He’d hurt me.

  Or he could be the best thing that’s ever happened to you…

  A cacophony of a million little voices spoke to me in my own head. My mother telling me never to touch a boy because it was wrong, to come home and be a good girl. Steve telling me to “do what I had to do,” or else. Amy saying I was taking this whole situation way too seriously, and I should just enjoy the journey and stop worrying about the destination.

  The one voice that didn’t seem pres
ent, I realized, was my own. What did Andrea want?

  I slipped a hand inside the shorts I had on and felt between my legs. I was so wet I’d probably have to change these shorts before I fell asleep. If I was going by what my body wanted, it was pretty clear I’d end up crossing the line with Jake.

  Why was I so insistent on creating these lines inside my own head? Where did it come from?

  My finger lingered at the top of my slit for a moment. I grazed my clit, letting myself enjoy the pleasure for just a few seconds. A few seconds turned into a few minutes, and next thing I knew, I was squirming on the bed underneath the comforter, wondering how Jake’s finger would feel doing the exact same thing right now.

  How would Jake be with me? In one manner, he was so gruff and manly and downright intimidating, yet he had a softer side to him that rarely surfaced.

  My breathing increased, and thinking became a bit harder as I circled myself with more enthusiasm, knowing exactly how Jake would be.

  Gentle at first. Tender even, with those long fingers. He was well aware of the power that he had, and he’d use it for good.

  Then he’d grip my hips roughly—with those same hands that he’d just been using so tenderly before—as he entered me.

  Oh God. A moan escaped my lips, and I covered my mouth with my free hand. I couldn’t stop now.

  I was in the moment, and I was realizing that knowing Jake was just outside my door made the experience better. More real.

  I’d never done something like this. I wasn’t even much of a masturbator, yet trying to fight my desire had only made it stronger.

  In the midst of the high I was feeling, knuckles rapped at the door. “Hey Diggs. You still up?”

  Suddenly, I was brought back to the real world. I whipped my hands out from under the covers, and, for some reason, jumped off the bed and onto my feet. “Yes, I’m awake,” I croaked.

  “Okay, I’m coming in for a second. You decent?”

  “Uhhh...yeah,” I said, which was technically true.

  I saw the knob turn, and he appeared at the doorframe.

  “There’s something I wanted to say. I was just trying to go to sleep, and I couldn’t. I shouldn’t have said that stuff. My bad. So what if I like you? You’ve been too nice to me, and I know you’re probably nice to everybody, so…just forget what I said, okay? I shouldn’t have said anything that made you uncomfortable…”

  Jake’s body reflected the light coming from outside my room, and the way it crossed his abs emphasized every last muscle like this was some kind of photo shoot.

  “Diggs, you okay?”

  “Yeah, fine.” My chest rose and fell, and I awkwardly stood, staring at him, too frozen to make a move. Did he just say he liked me? Not that he hadn’t said it before, but this time, I believed it.

  His eyes moved over me slowly, like a finger lightly dragging over flesh. I couldn’t look away from his long eyelashes as his gaze began at my feet and continued up the rest of my body. My mouth parted. Anticipation made my body warmer. My defenses had been weakened to their last line, and I didn’t have much more left.

  With all of the white noise hurling through my head, one piece of advice stuck out; oddly enough, from Amy:

  Why are you blocking yourself from having what you want?

  My eyelids fluttered and returned Jake’s lingering gaze, traveling from his face downward, and landing on the large bulge between his legs.

  I swear I saw it move.

  “You don’t look fine,” he finally said, taking a step toward me and destroying the imaginary fence I had put up between us.

  I took a mini step in his direction, and eclipsed the remaining space between us, so that we stood inches from each other.

  “I’m fine,” I stated weakly, and looked up at Jake.

  “Okay. I just don’t like going to bed feeling like there are unspoken things between us that we need to get out. Goodnight.”

  He flashed me a grin, then turned and walked out of the room, shutting the door behind him.

  I stared at the closed door, bewildered. This is probably what Jake had felt the two times I’d done this to him, abruptly ending things before they could begin. It sucked. It really did. I felt deflated, like a hot air balloon that had just been sliced open. I was equal parts relieved and disappointed that this was how my night would end.

  On the other hand, what else was he supposed to do with the mixed signals I’d been sending him? I took a step toward the wall and leaned my back and head against it.

  A moment later, the doorknob jiggled, and this time, the door swung open with a noticeable air of authority. He entered my room and looked at me, determined. I couldn’t speak, even if I’d wanted to. My resistance was gone, so I just waited, wanting him, wanting this, however it ended.

  “Tell me you don’t want me, and I’ll leave,” Jake said, striding toward me. He slipped his arm behind me and rested his hand on the small of my back. “Be honest.”

  My heart and my eyes fluttered in unison. I raised my hand to his face and ran it over the stubble of his beautiful jawline as we locked eyes. I raised myself up on my tiptoes and whispered in his ear.

  “I want you so bad, Jake,” I muttered.

  He ran a hand from the top of my head to the back of my neck and let it linger.

  “Fuck, I love hearing you say that.”

  Back on my tiptoes again, we kissed, his body smashing mine, wedged between him and the wall. Jake ran his hand from my neck down my back, and on down until he was cupping my ass through my shorts. He touched the underside of my thigh, lifting it up, and I slipped my leg around his body. I leaned my head back as he pressed his muscular weight into me, enjoying the feeling of him against me as he kissed me from shoulder to shoulder.

  “As sexy as you look in this tank top, we’re going to need to get it off.”

  I raised both of my arms up as I looked at him through hazy eyes. The yellow tank came off, and Jake’s eyes lingered on my breasts.

  “Fuck. Fuck, you’re sexy.” He came at my lips with a renewed vigor, then worked kisses slowly down my neck to my chest, then flicked my nipples with his tongue, never losing eye contact with me. When he brought his face back to mine and pushed his hips against me, I felt what I thought for a moment might be a third leg.

  I slipped a hand downward, outside his PJs, for curiosity’s sake. Good God.

  Jake grinned. “You’ve got me so hard, baby.”

  He brought the hand that was on my ass around to the front of me, slipping it between my legs, still on the outside of my shorts.

  I let out a long, slow groan. His eyes widened when he touched me through the cloth.

  “Andrea. You’re already soaked.”

  I nodded. His light-brown eyes looked darker in the shadows of my sparsely lit room.

  He nibbled on my ear and said the words in an accusatory whisper, “What were you doing in here, by yourself?”

  He knows.

  Jake knows how bad I want him.

  “Nothing,” I whispered back.

  Jake smiled. “You really shouldn’t lie to me like that. Even those little white lies will get you in trouble. And you know what happens when you get in trouble?”

  “I don’t, actually.” I gripped the back of his head with my hand as I arched toward him.

  “You shouldn’t have said that.” Jake brought both of his hands around my hips and lifted me up by my butt so that I had to wrap both of my legs around him.

  “Why? What are you going to do to me?” I baited, lips tugging upward in a soft smile.

  “This.” Jake kissed me one more time, then carried me to the bed and set me down on top of my covers. He stood up while I leaned back against my pillow, watching him undress. The black PJs came off first, and then the black boxer briefs followed.

  Staring at him naked, all I could think was, Wow.

  Jake snaked down into bed with me, and we kissed again. I aided him in pulling off my shorts.

  His body was l
ean and long against mine. He slid a strategic hand down from my shoulder to my breasts, my stomach, and landed it between my legs. His finger was light and delicate, yet strong and forceful at the same time. He grazed my wet clit lightly at first, teasing me. Against my thigh I felt his hard length press against me. God it felt amazing. Everything felt amazing.

  After a few minutes of light teasing, Jake slipped a finger inside me, intensifying the pleasure.

  “Damn, you’re tight,” he said. I gyrated my hips in rhythm with his finger, my hand latching onto Jake’s shoulder.

  “Sorry,” I said, feeling a little judged.

  Jake laughed then looked up at me with a serious face. “You are the most awkward girl I’ve ever met, you know?”

  My heart lurched. Why was he making fun of me?

  “And it’s incredibly fucking sexy,” he said, finishing off his thought. I felt relieved, and the relief sent an intense wave of pleasure over me. “You’re always you. That’s what I…like about you. But you should never say sorry for how you feel…with me. Just open yourself up. Let go.”

  “Jake,” I moaned, elongating the syllables. I grabbed his mop of brown hair. “Shut up and concentrate.”

  He stared at me for a moment, then kissed each of my cheeks, both sides of my neck, and worked his way all the way down to my legs, taking care to be perfectly symmetrical with his kisses, never taking his finger out of me.

  He brought in another finger, and I tightened, pulsing around him. He added his tongue, flicking it on my clit. The pleasure built, and I dug my fingernails into the mattress behind me, gasping for air. I dug my feet down and lifted my pelvis an inch. Jake brought his free hand up and grabbed my shoulder. I wrapped my hands around his arm, and that did it.

  The waves of pleasure kept coming, and Jake showed no signs of slowing down. The enthusiasm with which he lapped me up was bringing me close to the edge.

  Suddenly, he removed his mouth from me for a moment, looked up, and met my eyes. “You have no idea how sexy it is when you moan like that.”

  “You have no idea how sexy it is when you do…whatever it is you are doing right now.”