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

by Rae Lynn Blaise

  I bend down and jerk her to her feet, kissing her and ripping her clothes off her. Her shirt comes off first and I bend down to kiss the swell of her tits coming out of her red bra. I shove down the waistband of her skirt next, sending it pooling around her feet. She has on red matching panties. I'd like to think it was in case I was coming, but even my ego isn't that big. I slide one of my hands up the inside of her thigh and over her pussy. She trembles against me.

  Her own fingers pluck at my clothes and we stumble over to her bed as we struggle to get our clothes off. My shirt gets ripped at the collar, but I don't give a shit. I make sure to grab the condom in my pocket before leaving my jeans behind on the floor.

  At last, we're both naked and collapsing on the bed, our mouths straining to make contact, our hands brushing and clutching to make purchase. I have to force myself to slow down. We're both burning with a frenetic energy, desperate for this moment. But this is still only her second time.

  And I just got her back. I want to enjoy her. I want to take my time with her. I want to feast on her. I want to indulge in her.

  I grab her by her thighs and tug her slowly to the edge of the bed. It's my turn to kneel before her. She spreads her legs for me with a gasp and I bury my face in her perfect pussy.

  Fuck, I forgot how good she tastes. How sweet she is.

  I lick and suck at her, teasing her with the flat of my tongue. Serves her right for doing that to me. I'm not sure I like how fast of a learner she is. She's gotten disturbingly good at teasing.

  I nibble on her clit lightly, soothing the sting with my tongue. Her thighs jerk and she cries out. I flick the tip of my tongue over her bud and sink two of my fingers inside her. I twist and pump them inside her while I continue to lick every inch of her folds.

  I keep it up until she's shaking and crying out my name. I kiss up her body, not giving her time to completely recover. I kiss up her body until I reach her beautiful breasts. I love her breasts. They are full and soft and perfect and best of all, they are real.

  "You are so incredible, Tara. You're beautiful and your body drives me crazy. I haven't been able to stop thinking about you this entire time since you walked out of my house. I'm never letting you go again."

  She smiles up at me, arching her neck to kiss me. "I'm not going anywhere."

  "Good." I rip the foil packet of the condom with my teeth and slide it over my cock, which is so hard it almost hurts. "Are you ready?"

  She nods.

  My cock nudges at her entrance. "I love you."

  Happiness glitters in her eyes. "I love you too, Zach."

  Her words shatter what little self-control I have remaining. I slide into her, trying to go slow, but my sorceress lifts her legs and wraps them around me, titling her pelvis and taking me deeper.

  "You aren't going to break me." She smiles up at me, lust in her eyes.

  I sink the rest of the way in with a relieved groan. Fuck, she feels so good. She is so tight and wet for me. I thought her mouth was heaven, but this is even better.

  I bring my hand down to rub her clit in furious circles, wanting to keep her on edge.

  She moans and sinks her claws into my back. I fuck her a little faster, not wanting to get too rough with her, but it's really, really hard. When I'm inside her, my brain leaves and I can barely think straight.

  I roll us over so she's on top. I want to see those tits bounce while she rides me. And I want to stay at her pace, not mine. I'm still able to think a little. She bites her lip, looking nervous and uncertain, so I grab her by the ass and help to get her in the rhythm.

  It doesn't take her long to catch on, and I reach up to play with her nipples while she moves back and forth on me. I'm hitting deeper inside her than in the other position. She grabs the back of the headboard to steady herself and starts to move faster. Her head is tossed back and her mouth is open in an “o.” She's beautiful. She's so goddamn beautiful.

  She leans down and kisses me, my hands trapped between us, her hair tickling me. The sun shines through the window, turning her hair a sort of golden color, lighting up some of the strands. I free my hands and run them up her back and into her hair at the back of her neck. I love her hair. It's so soft and wavy and sexy.

  Her pace stalls a little and she's out of breath. I grab her ass and I roll us again, taking the control back. She wraps her legs around me again and I start to fuck her harder, watching her closely to see if it becomes too much for her.

  Her eyes are closed and her breaths are shallow, but there's no sign of distress on her face. She looks completely blissed out. Just like I am.

  I'm not going to last much longer.

  Thankfully, neither is she. She comes on my cock, her pussy tightening around me in spasms, bringing me even closer. Her eyes open and she looks at me with dilated pupils. It only takes two more strokes for me to join her. I hold her close as we buck against each other.

  We both collapse onto our backs side by side on the bed, chests heaving. I don't want to smother her again like last time, though she seemed to enjoy it and voiced no complaints.

  It takes a few minutes for us to get our breaths back. I reach over to hold her hand, still not ready to stop touching her. She turns onto her side and smiles at me.

  "Want some coffee?" she asks. "We never did really finish it the other night."

  "Are you trying to get me hopped up on caffeine so we can stay in bed all night, making love?" I ask, wriggling my brows at her, praying she says yes.

  "Maybe." She grins and clutches my hand a little tighter.

  "Good." I want to stay in her bed for a week and then take her to my place and stay in my bed for the next week. Too bad we both have jobs that won't let us. But maybe in the off-season I can convince her to take some time off and leave her bookstore for a couple weeks. Maybe I can take her to Paris. Or London. Or Cancun. I bet she looks banging in a little bikini. Somewhere she's always wanted to go. I want her to experience the good side of dating a football player, not just the less-awesome parts. My paycheck is a good part.

  But first, there's some stuff I need to tell her. If I'm serious about this, and I am, I have to tell her everything. About my family. About my dad. I'm not worried the news will make her bolt, and I'm not going to burden her with it tonight, but I'm actually looking forward to telling her. I can finally tell someone who can help me bear this. And I know that Tara is the kind of woman who will be able to handle it.

  I didn't want to tell her before. I didn't want her to be with me because my dad might be dying, or out of some sort of pity or anything like that. I wanted her to choose me for me. Which she did. Something I still sort of can't believe. I keep waiting for doubts or regrets to pass across her face like before, but so far I've only seen happiness and contentment.

  I plan to keep those emotions on her face for as long as I'm able. This girl is a keeper. Oh hell, she's gotten me addicted to Harry Potter puns. I'm not going to be able to hide my nerdiness the longer I'm with her—a chance I'm willing to take.

  And my mom is going to love her. Kayla already thinks she's the coolest grownup she's ever met. I can just see Tara ganging up on me with Kayla and convincing me to finally give up my broom. If Tara doesn't try to steal it for herself. For a minute, when she was looking at that broom and my bookshelves, I thought she might change her mind about ending things. I thought she'd realize we aren't as different as she thinks.

  And I think she finally might be starting to believe that. At least, I hope she is. And if not, I'll prove it to her.

  She sighs like a contented cat. "I'll make the coffee in a few minutes. I still haven’t recovered."

  "Are you all right?" I ask. I don't ever want to hurt her. She is so precious to me.

  She laughs right in my face. "Why do you keep asking me that? I'm great. I'm more than great."

  I scowl at her. "I don't have any experience with virgins. I just want to make sure."

  She squeezes my hand again and smiles a softer smile this ti
me. "And I appreciate that. I do. But I'm fine. I would have stopped you if it hurt or was too much. Now just let me bask."

  "Yes, ma'am." I salute her.

  She sits up a little and shoots me an evil little grin. "So, do you want to check online and see if your grand gesture is all over the Internet already?"

  "I can almost guarantee it is. And I don't care. Do you?" I hold my breath, waiting for her answer. I know that was a huge deal for her. Being in the media. Becoming famous. She is the strangest woman I've ever met. And I love that she will probably keep surprising and confounding me for years and years to come.

  She purses her lips in thought before answering. "No. I don't think I do. I don't love the idea of it, but it doesn't really bother me, either. I'm sure I'll get used to it eventually."

  "So, you're planning on being around for a while?" I'm not quite confident enough to make assumptions when it comes to her.

  She nods and smiles at me. "I do. I've really missed you these past days." She looks away at the admission.

  I bring my other hand around to stroke her face. "Oh, gorgeous. I missed you like crazy. I forced myself to wait this long. I wanted to make sure you had plenty of time to miss me."

  She snorts. "Well, you could have come earlier. I missed you as soon as I walked out your door. I'm sorry, I was just terrified."

  I turn a little so I can draw her closer to me, kissing her forehead. "I know, it's okay. I get it, I really do. And I know this isn't a magical fix and not everything is going to be awesome, but I'm in this, Tara. I'm all in." I am. I'm not letting her go.

  "I am too."

  "Good." I yank her down for a kiss. She melts into me and kisses me back, sweeping her tongue into my mouth. I wrap her in my arms, my cock already hardening again.

  She's going to be the death of me.

  But what a damn fine way to go.

  Part I

  Bonus Selection

  Made for Him

  Enjoy an excerpt from my ALL TIME dirtiest book, Made for Him: A Secret Mafia Baby Romance

  After dumping her cheating boyfriend, Jessica Simmons takes the dark and dangerously handsome high-powered billionaire, Matteo Moretti, home from the bar for a healthy dose (or five) of getting-over-breakup sex. Even though it’s the hottest night of her life, Jessica resolves to let a fling be a fling and move on. She has her career and enough self-respect to know she doesn’t need a man.

  Until she finds out she’s pregnant with Matteo’s baby.

  Though she doesn’t expect him to be exactly thrilled with the situation, he surprises her with his fierce need to love and protect them both, and soon she’s imagining a future with her once one-night-stand. But then secrets are exposed, and Jessica learns that Matteo’s world is not the haven she’d once thought it was.

  Soon caught in the middle of a terrifying tug-of-war between rival criminals, she’s faced with a tumultuous decision of who to forgive and who to trust – and it might not be the father of her baby.

  WARNING! If you love insta-love, super-dee-duper steamy sex that’s a little rough around the edges, and a heart-swelling, cheesy-sauce HEA, then you’re in for a treat!

  Matteo

  Prologue

  The city spreads before me, a sparkling grid twinkling against the night sky. Skyscrapers and warehouses and the squat saucer of the sports arena are lit up in the golden glow of a city unwilling to sleep.

  Some people might stand at this window and see a beautiful urban view.

  I stand at this window, and I see a city ripe for the taking.

  I see neighborhoods unclaimed, streets without boundaries, a city that’s been asleep for far, far too long.

  I’m going to change that. And soon. I’ve been quietly moving the pieces into place, spent the last fifteen years rounding up cousins and old allies, begging for scraps from family back in the Old Country, shoring up everything I would need to remake the shattered Moretti empire anew. I was born into a kingdom that was already in decline, and so many of the family ways I had to learn on my own, since there was no family left--at least none still living the old way.

  But for my grandfather’s sake, I’ll make Kansas City respect the Moretti name again. I’ll turn my hometown back into the kind of place where men could live and die by the gun, with honor…and with hefty amounts of cash.

  There’s only one man standing in my way of my vision. That will be rectified shortly, however, and then there’ll be nothing between me and this steel and asphalt kingdom spread before me. Nothing at all.

  I turn away from the view and pad silently across the living room floor to the bedroom. She’s asleep, breathing slowly and steadily in the moonlight. The sheet has twisted around her waist, exposing her pale, perfect breasts. My cock twitches in my pants, even though I’ve already fucked her twice tonight.

  Standing beside the bed, I run a possessive hand over her flat stomach, the sweet nip of her waist. I don’t normally stick around after this part, certainly not in the girl’s own apartment, certainly not when that girl is a heartbroken, tipsy mess I just met that night.

  But I’m not satisfied with only two fucks for a number of reasons…which isn’t surprising. What is surprising is that the top reason I’m going to fuck her again is because I want to. And then she shifts and stretches, the sheet pulling down lower, and as she moves to her side, I catch a glimpse of that toned dancer ass. That firm, squeezable ass that I haven’t yet had the pleasure of feeling against my hips as I fuck her from behind.

  Just like that, wanting to fuck her turns into needing to fuck her. Maybe two times more. Maybe three times more.

  Cock rigid, I unzip my pants and crawl onto the bed.

  “Wake up, gorgeous,” I say in her ear as I lay my body over hers. She stirs, inadvertently pressing her ass against my bare cock, and I groan, unable to help myself.

  “You want to have more sex?” she murmurs sleepily, but that sleepiness and innocent voice are belied by the way she parts her legs and arches her back to get her ass closer to my cock.

  I fist myself and find her wet entrance—the place that is wet from me, from me taking her twice, and fuck if that doesn’t make me so hard I can barely stand it. I shove inside, and she lets out a husky moan.

  “It’s not sex,” I inform her as I pull out and thrust in again. “It’s fucking. And I’m going to fuck you until the only word you remember is my name.”

  1

  Jess

  Three Weeks Later

  The phone rings seven times before it goes to voicemail, and each of those seven rings is like another stab in the ribs. By the time my uncle’s pre-recorded voice comes through, my entire body is coursing with adrenaline, and I can barely find the words to speak to him.

  Beep.

  “Uh, hi, Uncle Jim,” I say, my voice shaking. My uncle is a busy man, and in the five years since my parents died in a car crash and he unofficially adopted me, I must have left him thousands of messages. But for some reason, I have no idea what to say today.

  No…not for some reason. One reason.

  I avoid looking at that reason, which is now sitting innocuously on my kitchen counter, and instead refocus on the voicemail. “I really need to talk to you,” I whisper. “Something’s happened. Something bad—well, bad isn’t really the right word, I guess, but I don’t know the right word and I feel like this is the kind of thing I would have called Mom and Dad with, so it felt right to call you, but maybe it wasn’t…”

  I realize I’m rambling and stop talking until I can gather my wits. “Just call me back,” I beg. “Please. Love you.”

  My hand is shaking as I press end on the call and set my phone on the counter. I wanted Uncle Jim to pick up today, even though he’s rarely available the very second I need him. But he always comes through for me, like that time I drank too much as a college freshman and didn’t have a ride home, or those first months living on my own when he made sure my fridge was filled with groceries when all I could afford were ramen noodles
. I miss my parents terribly, but if I have to live without them, I couldn’t have asked for a better surrogate than my uncle.

  He’ll call me back. He’ll help me figure out what to do.

  You shouldn’t need help figuring this out. You’re twenty-three. You graduated summa cum laude and you’re working at the most prestigious corporate law firm in the region. You should handle this all on your own and not drag your poor uncle into it.

  Taking a deep breath, I grab my phone and do what I should have done in the first place. I grab the thick gray business card off the front of my fridge, glancing once at the name before I dial the number below it.

  Matteo Moretti

  Moretti Investments, CEO

  Matteo. I can still taste his name on my tongue. I thought he left me with nothing more than a sore pussy and his business card, but it turns out I was mistaken.

  He left me with one other thing.

  The phone rings twice, three times, and I steel myself to leave another awkward voicemail, but instead the phone stops ringing and an impatient male voice says, “This is Matteo.” His voice is clipped, brusque, and I remind myself that this is his office number. He probably isn’t used to three-week-old lays calling him here.

  Although maybe he is, if he leaves his card with every random fuckdoll he meets.

  I clear my throat. “Um, hi, Matteo.” I wince at how girlish my voice sounds. I’m not normally this uncertain or hesitant—I’m not brash by any means—but I’ve definitely learned how to communicate in a high-powered business world led (mostly) by men. I try to summon up that Jessica now, the Jessica who is currently rocking the corporate world by managing one of the largest investment fraud suits in American history.

  “This is Jess Simmons,” I try again. “We—ah—met a few weeks ago at the Tom’s Town bar?” Met is nicer than stupidly invited you back to my loft and let you come inside me five times.