First Down: A Nerdy Virgin Meets a Badboy Football Player Romance

by Rae Lynn Blaise

  I chuckle. "Honestly, so was I."

  "I didn't hurt you, did I?" he asks, worry coating his words.

  "No."

  "Really?" I can hear in his voice he doesn't believe me.

  "Well, yeah a little, but not as bad as I was expecting, and it didn't last long." I'm telling the truth this time.

  "I've never taken anyone's virginity before. I was actually pretty nervous."

  "Really?" I prop myself up on my elbow so I can see his face.

  He nods and looks me right in the eyes. "Really."

  A little flutter of glee flaps through me. "It's nice I'm actually some sort of first for you."

  He shakes his head, smiling and pulling me closer to him. "Oh, Tara, you are a whole lot of firsts for me."

  10

  Zach

  The world tilts as I stumble to my feet after getting the wind knocked out of me by the second-string running back. "Nice hit, dude." I'm actually impressed. If a little grudging about it. I don't want to be replaced by this guy, but it's good to know we've got a good replacement if I ever can't play. And after the last game, I have absolutely no worries about my position on the team.

  They're still replaying my touchdown and fifty-one yard run on ESPN. Someone even made a gif of it. I've watched it way too many fucking times. It's hilarious and I look awesome.

  I shake my head, trying to dispel the dizziness and my fuzzy vision. But it doesn't help.

  "Bro, you're bleeding."

  He sounds like he's speaking underwater. "What?"

  He repeats himself, but his face melts off and everything goes black.

  I wake up in a hospital bed, hooked up to IVs and machines like I'm dying and didn't just take a hard hit at practice.

  "What's going on? Why am I here?" I ask a male nurse looking at my chart.

  He looks up and smiles. "You're awake. Good. I'll go get the doctor and she can explain it all to you."

  Shit. They didn't call my parents did they? I hope they didn't. I don't want Mom and Dad worried or to even come down here. And what about the press? Have they gotten wind of this? It was just a hard hit, why are they making such a fuss? Did they do some kind of test and find something?

  The doctor comes inside my room. "Hello, Mr. Gordon. I'm Dr. Knight. We think you might have suffered a mild concussion and so we're going to keep you here overnight for observation. Your coach and a few of your teammates are in the waiting room and can make any calls to anyone you need to inform." She keeps explaining, but I tune most of it out, only keeping an ear out for the important stuff.

  She pats my arm. "I'll send your coach in and will be back to check on you later."

  I nod, still barely paying any attention.

  For thirty minutes I have a steady stream of visitors, but not the one I really want to see. Thankfully, my quarterback lets me borrow his phone so I can call my parents and my girl. The last thing I want is for her or my mom and dad to find out through the media.

  My coach reassures me that no one has gotten wind of it yet and that he called my parents personally. Thank goodness.

  I'm finally left alone and get a moment of peace. I shift in the hospital bed, pissed I have to stay here overnight for observation. They didn't even need to give me stitches. Just a butterfly bandage and a little missing hair, for fuck's sake.

  I feel fine. I don't have a fucking concussion. I just got hit a little hard, that's all. No big deal. I had to almost threaten Mom to keep her from dragging Dad down here. She made due with sending Kayla with a few things from my house. The last thing I wanted to see were her frightened eyes. For fuck's sake, even if it is a concussion, it's not like I'm dying.

  But after spending so much time in the hospital with our dad, we both hate these god-awful fucking places. You'd think they could make them a little more welcoming and comfortable. But I guess they spend their money on the actual life-saving stuff.

  Still.

  I shift again, my head aching, but I don't want any more meds fuzzing up my brain. Tara's supposed to be here soon and I want to be focused on her. I'm worried this will freak her out and make her end everything again. It'll be a reminder to her of how stupid and pointless football is. It really pisses me off that I have to miss our date tonight. I was really looking forward to taking her back home and sinking myself inside her again after spending some time wandering the city. She's not the type I can really impress with a fancy meal at a swanky place, so I'd gone to a lot of trouble trying to figure out what would be special for her.

  And now she gets to come hang with me in the fucking hospital instead. Awesome.

  Just thinking about our night together—the one when she finally gave herself to me—is making me hard. She was so fucking tight. She squeezed my cock like a vise. I can't wait to be back inside her. I can't wait to feel her come on my dick again. She was so fucking hot and incredible. I'm in awe of that woman.

  Speak of the Devil. She walks in clutching a book to her chest, her eyes wide and worried. A lot like Kayla's.

  I smile and sit up straighter, hiding a wince caused by the pain flowing through my head. "Hey, gorgeous."

  "Hey. How are you feeling?" she asks, barely coming all the way through the door.

  I sigh. "Pissed they won't let me go home."

  "I meant more physically." The slightest smile turns her lips up at the corners.

  I shrug. "I'm fine. Just a little bump on the head."

  "Does it hurt?" she asks, as she steps a little farther inside.

  "Not anymore, now that you're here." I grimace at the cheesy line, but it makes a real smile light up her face, so I guess it was worth it. At least none of my teammates are here to witness me being an ass.

  She finally comes all the way inside and perches on the edge of one of those hard chairs meant to drive visitors home to their real beds and out of the doctors' way.

  "You look good." She blushes. "I mean...you look like you always do. I mean...ugh. You know what I mean." She stares down at her hands clasping the book in her lap, looking like she's about to bolt any second.

  I can't stop myself from teasing her, hoping to draw her out. "No, I don't. Please keep explaining. I find it fascinating how hot you think I am. And distracting."

  She blows out a breath, shoving her gorgeous hair behind her ear with impatience. "I don't know why I'm so nervous."

  Even though I’m enjoying her like this, I decide to put her out of her misery. "What do you have there?" I point to the book she's still hugging and holding between us like a shield.

  Her face reddens and her eyes dart away from mine again. "I brought a book to read to you if you were having a hard time falling asleep."

  "Is that the same book you brought to my game for when you got bored?" I can't resist teasing her a little more for the admission she'd made the other night.

  She smiles and shakes her head. "No. That one was for book club. This one was something I thought you'd like a little more." She holds it up so I can see the cover. "Have you read it?"

  "Nope. But you're good at choosing for people. I have it on my nightstand at home, I just haven't gotten around to it yet." I've been wanting to read it for a while now. She's a damn fine bookseller.

  She flashes me a pleased grin that I feel all the way down to my cock. "Awesome." She bites her lip. "So, when do you get out of here?"

  "Tomorrow morning. First thing, thank God." I can't wait. Maybe I can talk Tara into spending the night in the hospital bed with me. If it wouldn't be so unfair to her, I'd try to convince her.

  "Can I come and take you home?" she asks.

  "You want to take care of me, don't you?" I tease her.

  She blushes and hugs her book tighter. "Maybe a little. So, can I?"

  I smile at her. "Of course. I'd love it."

  "Promise?" she asks, looking uncertain.

  "I promise." She is utterly adorable. And sweet. And perfect. And looking embarrassed.

  "Why don't you read to me a little for a while?" I s
uggest. Maybe it'll help take my mind off how incredibly hot she is. Her spicy vanilla scent has even washed away the stringent hospital stench.

  She curls her legs up under her on the chair and opens the book in her lap. She begins the story; her voice is soothing and the story is gripping. It's damn good. Especially coming from her gorgeous mouth. She does all the voices and everything. Damn, she is so different from what I'm used to. And I sure as hell am loving it.

  Finally, I can't take anymore. I interrupt her. "Hey."

  Her head raises and she looks at me in concern. "You okay? Do you need me to get the nurse? Or is the book boring you? I have my e-reader, I can find something else. Do you just want me to shut up? Do you want to rest? Are you in pain?"

  She's adorable when she's nervous and worried for me. "No. I just can't focus because you're so far away." For fuck's sake. I sound like some loser in one of those eighties chick flicks. This is humiliating. It must be the drugs they gave me earlier. Yeah. That's the only reason. It's the drugs. Not this intriguing creature who has turned my life upside down and inside out.

  "Do you want me to scoot closer?" she asks, her brow furrowed in confusion.

  I chuckle. "No, I want you to get in bed with me so I can touch you."

  Her cheeks redden again. "What if someone comes in?"

  I swallow the laughter bubbling in my throat. "I'm not going to fuck you in a hospital, don't worry. Just get up here."

  She stands and places the book in the chair, sliding up beside me carefully and hesitantly.

  "I don't have anything broken, gorgeous. You won't hurt me," I assure her.

  She snuggles into me and I wrap my arm around her, breathing in her scent, finally able to relax. I trail fingers down her spine like I know she likes and she scoots closer, making a purring sound. I chuckle again and kiss the top of her head. It's nice, just lying here with her without a bunch of chatter. She's easy to be around. Doesn't need to fill a silence with mindless noise.

  She shivers and I grab the blanket I threw off me earlier and cover us up. Which brings a lot of dirty possibilities to my mind. I trail my hand down a little lower, grazing the top of her ass. Her own hands are under the blanket on my chest, utterly still. I'm not even sure she's still breathing.

  With each stroke, I dip lower and lower until I reach the hem of her skirt. I slide it up over her ass, dipping my hands under the waistband of her underwear. She shivers and her hands start to wander. With my free hand, I reach over and turn on the TV, turning to volume up so it'll cover any sounds we might make.

  My hand finds its way up her skirt and hers down my pants. From the outside, we look like we're just laying here. It takes all of my control not to let anything show on my face. Her heart races against my chest and her breathing is faster than normal, but those are the only signs she gives that I'm fucking her with my fingers. Her hand fists my cock, pumping it slowly but firmly. It's hard to stay quiet, the longer it goes on. This is one public place I've never hooked up with a girl. One of the few places. I have a thing for exhibitionism. And once I’m turned on, I'm not very patient.

  I surprised even myself the other night with Tara; I couldn't believe my self-control. I've never had that much of a handle on myself before. But she was worth it. Every inch I moved inside her was like sliding into heaven. She was so wet and responsive and tight and gorgeous. With my fingers inside her, reminding me what it felt like; with her hand pumping up and down on me, I'm about to blow my load.

  We didn't think this through very thoroughly.

  The door swings open and we jerk away from each other. Tara, with such violence, she almost falls off the bed to the floor. I catch her before she flashes her ass to my visitors. My teammate Jared comes in holding sad-face emoji balloons.

  I've never hated anyone like I hate him right now. I want to kill him. I was almost there, and more importantly, based on the way Tara was squirming, so was she.

  Tara gets to her feet, adjusting her skirt, her face in flames. "I'm going to go get a coffee or something. You want something?" she asks, barely looking up from the floor.

  Fuck.

  I shake my head, watching her make her escape before turning my attention to my unwanted visitor. I love the guy, but damn I was so close. And he brought his crazy bitch cousin, who, as usual, is overly made up and is a big-boobed number. Her tight shirt plunges, showing off the very expensive tits she's so proud of. She and I dated a few months ago, but she was psychotic and we didn't last long.

  Jared sets the balloons by the bed, giving me a knowing smirk. "Didn't mean to interrupt."

  Usually I'd play along, but it doesn't feel right to do that to Tara. "You didn't. Thanks for coming by. I think I've seen everyone else."

  He doesn't look convinced at my lie, but he leaves it alone. Probably because I look so pathetic in this stupid hospital gown. I haven't had a chance to change into the clothes Kayla brought me other than pulling my pants on underneath it between visitors.

  "Do you have a ride home when they finally release you?" Jared asks.

  "Yeah. Tara is going to take me." She was so earnest when she made me promise to let her. And so nervous I might say no. I'd much prefer her ministrations than getting a water bottle chucked at my head by one of my teammates. Maybe I can convince her I'm perfectly healthy and can get her into my bed. I've wanted to see her spread out on my bed ever since she opened the door to her bookstore.

  Jared's phone rings, cutting off whatever stupid-ass thing he was opening his mouth to say. He looks down at it and grimaces. "I got to take this. Sorry. I'll be right back." He answers his phone and slips out into the hallway.

  I almost demand he stay, not wanting to be left alone with his cousin who is looking at me like she's like to carve up my skin and knit herself a sweater with it. I'm not sure if it's because I broke things off and she's pissed, or if she's just horny. That was the problem. She was terrifying. And crazy. No offense to mentally disabled people, but the girl is off her fucking rocker and needs serious medication.

  Her hips sway as she saunters over to the hospital bed. She adjusts the blankets and even bends over, trying to smother me with her huge tits, and fluffs my pillow like she thinks she's a sexy candy striper in a romance novel. For fuck's sake. I lean away from her, not wanting to hurt her feelings or piss her off, but also not wanting her to touch me. I'd also like to keep breathing. Dying by boobs is a hell of a way to go, but I'm not interested if the tits in question are her fake ass balloons.

  She sits on the edge of the bed and brushes hair out of my eyes. "How are you feeling?" she asks, her voice so sugary it literally makes my teeth ache.

  "I'm fine. Really." My lips twist at the clouds of perfume that follows her around. It's a sickly smell, like dead and rotting flowers. Is she a fucking vampire or something? She's definitely something out of a horror movie. I have a passing wish for garlic and a silver cross to ward her off. Okay, the meds are definitely making me a little loopy tonight. Because as annoying as this girl was, she wasn't the anti-Christ or anything.

  She still was crazy, though. And not in the fun and exciting way like I thought at first. But she was hot and that's all I really cared about. Until Tara. That woman of mine has gotten under my skin in a way I've never allowed, and I'm enjoying the ride a hell of a lot more than I thought I would.

  The player and the bookseller thing really no longer applies. Jared would probably say the whipped and the bookseller, but he can fuck off. I like being whipped when Tara is the one holding the crop.

  That's a hot image. Fuck, I have to get them out of here so Tara and I can get back to what we were doing before they barged in. First, I have to get this girl off of me.

  I'm about to just tell her to back off, when Tara comes through the door and stumbles to a halt, her eyes wide and filled with hurt. Fuck. Fuck me. Fuck everything. Fuck this damn bitch for putting that look on my girl's face. Fuck me for not keeping her safe from it.

  I sit up. "Wait!" If I can just explai
n, she'll understand.

  But she speeds off before I can explain. I curse and flop back against my pillows. I look over and curse again. She left her book on the chair.

  11

  Tara

  I drive home fueled by pure rage. How stupid was I to think this could work? To lose my virginity to him? I'm a damn idiot. There's no way I can trust him. Hell, I barely even know him. We only met a couple weeks ago. Not nearly enough time for me to really know him. I can't believe I saved myself for twenty-four years and then gave it up for a guy I just met. It was supposed to be the love of my life. My soul mate. Instead, I could have been fucking guys left and right this whole time. And based on how much I enjoyed it, I've been missing out on a lot.

  My first impression of him was right, though. No matter how many Harry Potter references he makes, or how well read or hot he is, I knew he was a jock. A guy who's had women throwing themselves at him since grade school probably. A guy who has gotten things handed to him his entire life. Grades, sex, shoes, and who knows what else. I don't even want to know what else.

  I stomp all the way down the street and into the store and upstairs to my loft, slamming every single door behind me. I'm too pissed to even cry. I feel too stupid to allow myself the luxury. Or to give him that kind of power over me. He doesn't deserve my tears. He doesn't deserve my shame.

  I grab a beer from the fridge and take it to my bed. I should shower after letting him do those things to me—in a hospital, of all places. And after the things I'd done to him in return. Who have I become? I don't mess around out in public. I've never been so disgusted with myself. Or so ashamed.

  I cheated on book club for him, for crying out loud.

  Unable to bear my still-wet panties, I set my beer on the nightstand, and go to take a shower. I let the hot spray burn away the evening, burn away the last couple weeks. Burn away Zachary fucking Gordon. I wash his scent from me, scrubbing hard with my soapy loofa.