Offense & Defense: A MMF Sports Romance

by Alexis Angel

  And after that, it means the loss of my job. Because even if George wasn't forced by the partners to have to let me go for losing a client, I would have probably left on my own. I couldn't hold onto one bad boy prince!

  Think about all the books you've read in the past. The heroine always manages to tame and reform the bad boy prince. Sometimes they even have babies.

  Not so here. This prince...all he ever gave me was a pink slip.

  I just don't understand the whole smile at you while stabbing you in the back mentality.

  It really just doesn't make any sense how Connor pulled me out of my shell and got me to start falling in love with him, and then just as I'm close to it, just as I'm ready to let go and give into him, and just as he's about to do the same, he goes and does something like this.

  I mean, listen, I know it's been three days and I should probably move on.

  But Connor D'Avington is the closest I've ever come to just completely giving myself up to someone. I mean, I've had sex before. I've been in relationships before. I've even had my heart broken before.

  But this is the first time I've ever honestly been able to picture myself growing old with a man.

  I dunno, it just seemed right, you know?

  And I feel betrayed.

  "Connor regrets not being able to be here today," Nadia says with a sweet smile. "He's in the process of potentially getting married I believe, but you didn't hear that from me."

  Despite everything, George is still taken by Nadia.

  "Your secret is safe with us, pretty lady," he says, but I just roll my eyes. She's not trying to impress George. She's trying to rub it in my face that Connor has a life that he's moving on with after shattering mine.

  And yes, he pretty much did just shatter my life.

  First he fucked me so hard and so good that I think he ruined all other men for me. Like seriously, I will compare all other men and how big their cock is and how they use it to him. And they will all fail.

  Second, he made me open myself up to being loved. And you know what?

  It felt amazing.

  But then he left.

  And now I feel like shit. I don't know how or when I'll ever be able to open myself up like that again.

  I mean, I can go on and on. You're probably not going to like me if I do. You'll read this and then just go write a review about me talking about how I was being whiny. Because honestly, the longer I keep talking about Connor, the more whiny I feel, you know what I mean?

  It's like....

  Wait.

  Did you hear that?

  There's something coming

  I realize I've sorta been spacing this whole time and I look up and see Nadia with her mouth open and her eyes fixed on me.

  What is the big deal? Oh my God, do I really look that sad?

  But then I realize that Nadia isn't looking at me.

  She's looking beyond me.

  I turn.

  And that's when I see a motorcycle roar off the pier attached to Manhattan and fly up into the air.

  Everyone on the open-air barge that is the Frying Pan watches as literally it looks like the motorcycle flies across the air.

  I watch as it arcs upward and then as the rider desperately keeps the nose up to make it go farther.

  I take a moment to admire the body on the bike. The strength that the person has to be possessing in their upper body to be lifting the motorcycle and keep the nose in the air is impressive.

  Equally impressive are the patrons who start to scream and run away from their tables as the motorcycle starts angling down.

  Like they're running from the wrath of a descending deity, the people leave their purses and their drinks and their entrees and they get the fuck out of anywhere in the vicinity as fast as they can.

  Because when that motorcycle lands, it basically lands on a table, breaking it. It takes the wooden chairs along with it and then starts to speed toward us, breaking everything and strewing detritus on its way.

  Just the fact that the motorcycle making impact with the barge sends shockwaves throughout the restaurant and people are screaming.

  Thankfully the barge is rather large, at least the size of a basketball court and people are running the other direction.

  But I'm looking at the rider curiously.

  Because I have a sinking feeling I know who it is as the man gets off the bike and takes off his black helmet.

  Yup, how did I guess? Of course, it's none other than Connor D'Avington.

  I'm about to say something when he rushes over to me.

  Well, whatever happens, I need to remember to be firm. I can't just forgive him because he managed to land a motorcycle on a barge.

  Connor rushes past me.

  Okay.

  That's not really what I was expecting

  Instead he approaches Nadia and throws his helmet on the table, upsetting our drinks.

  It's safe to say that everyone, including Nadia, George, and I are standing up now since he landed his motorcycle and we're watching him.

  "You lying bitch!" Connor yells, and grabs Nadia. A part of me is glad that he came for her and not me. "You think I wouldn't find out?" he yells.

  "Its too late!" Nadia says.

  "No it's not, Nadia," he yells to her. "It took all of two days to figure out you were a Constitutionalist who's been planning the leaks and the bad press."

  "Well, you know Your Highness, you sort of helped in that by being a complete buffoon," Nadia yells back, taking a step away from him toward the edge of the barge. "These people will never do business with you again. I've made sure of that."

  Connor looks at me and I see frustration go through his eyes.

  He does the only thing he can.

  He reaches over and grabs Nadia, whose eyes go wide.

  He then takes her and chucks her off the barge. It's a good thing we were sitting on the side next to the railing and the water because he just throws her into the Hudson River.

  She shrieks and screams as she flails in the air and then splashes in the water as Connor tosses her a life preserver.

  Then he turns to me as everyone in the restaurant runs to the railing to look at Nadia spluttering as she treads water.

  "Natalie," Connor says. "I don't know what Nadia said..."

  I look at him. I need to stay calm. I can't forgive him too easily. Even if he had no idea, I need to play it cool.

  "But obviously I don't want to cancel our contract and I want to undo everything she has been saying for the last three days," Connor says, putting his arms on my shoulders. I take a gulp. It's getting harder and harder not to just kiss him but I need to stay strong. For all women, everywhere.

  "But there's one thing that she may not have said that I should've said a lot earlier than today, but I didn't because I was a fucking idiot," Connor says, and looks at me. "Natalie Thomson, I love you."

  Oh. My. God. So much for staying calm and being strong.

  "I love you too, Connor D'Avington," I say, coming closer to him. We're inches apart.

  "I fucking love you so much, Natalie," Connor says, and his mouth is inches from mine. "And I promise I'll love just as much, if not more, for the rest of our lives."

  I dunno.

  He leans forward to kiss me and my mouth parts as his tongue reaches in and massages mine.

  You know what? That sounds good enough for me.

  He pulls me close to him.

  Ah, fuck it.

  Forgiven.

  125

  Natalie

  After Connor’s grand entrance, none of us wanted to waste any time. We needed each other, and we needed it so fiercely there simply was no time to lose. He handed me his helmet, I hopped on his bike, and off we went, riding through NY’s traffic toward his place at the Dakota.

  We’re already there, racing through the courtyard at a hurried step. When he opens the door to his apartment, we stumble inside and turn into each other in silence. Then, the moment we hear the door
closing behind us, all hell breaks loose.

  We fall into each other’s arms, our mouths crushing as the fire of desire engulfs us both. Connor’s hands go straight to my waist and he pushes me back, pinning me against the wall as we kiss. Our tongues run in circles around one another, our kiss a dance of lust and desire.

  Just like the first time we were together, I can barely believe this is happening. When all seemed lost, Connor came through and saved me from a life without him. Happiness? No, that’s not the state I’m in. It’s more than that, so much more. With him by my side, I have everything that I have ever dreamed off. With him by my side, I don’t need anything else.

  “I love you, Natalie… Never doubt that. Not for one fucking second,” he tells me, pulling back from our kiss and gently pressing his forehead against mine. I look into his eyes, my heart drumming a song of ecstatic happiness. My heart knows this is my happy ending, and so does the rest of my body; I feel a growing wetness between my legs, but this is so much more than simply lust. It’s passion and love; it’s all the good that a human being can feel.

  “I love you too… You’re my world, Connor,” I whisper, my heart tightening as I realize that I really believed our story had ended. How could that be, when we are made for each other?

  I take one hand to his face, brushing my thumb against his lips, and a grin dawns on my face. “Now… I want you to fuck me. I want you to fuck me as hard as you can,” I tell him, feverish thoughts bubbling up in my mind. “My mouth, my ass, my pussy. Make it all yours,” I continue. Yeah, that’s right, I used to be such a nice girl, and now look at me. Dirty as dirty can be, and Connor was the one who made me like this. And I love it, I just do. And now that I have him, I believe that things are only going to heat up from this moment forward…

  “Look at you,” he starts with a grin, slowly sliding his fingers down my dress until they meet the hemline. “What happened to you, love?” he asks me, that deliciously wicked grin of his making my insides clench.

  “You happened to me,” I respond, licking my lips as his fingers slowly make the hike up my legs and under my skirt. He goes to my outer thighs and, there, he grabs my thong and pulls it down. The fabric falls down to my feet, and I don’t even bother to look at it; I just kick it to the side.

  “Much better,” he chuckles, taking his hands out from under my dress. “Now, let’s make this more interesting…” he whispers, walking past me and straight into his bedroom. I’m almost there when he comes out, one of his dark ties wrapped around his hand. I stand still, looking from the tie to him, and he just grins at me, deviousness flickering in his eyes.

  “Now, do you trust me?” he asks me, raising his hands and unrolling his tie. I don’t even say a thing; I just nod, pursing my lips as my heart starts to beat at a maddening pace. With a smile on his lips, he laces the tie around my head, covering my eyes, and knots it. As I drown into darkness, I bite on my bottom lip, waiting for what Connor does next.

  I gasp as he picks me up from the floor and, carrying me in his arms, walks a few feet before putting me down. I feel the soft mattress shifting under my weight and I lay back, my heart pounding so furiously there’s a knot in my throat. I wait to see what happens, but I don’t even feel Connor on the mattress. Has he left the room? What does he have in mind? But then I feel the mattress shifting again, this time under his weight, and I prepare myself for the ocean of pleasure he intends to drown me in.

  Blindly, I reach for him, but before I can find and touch him, he curls his fingers around my wrist and stops me. “I’m not done,” he merely says, and then I feel silk around my right wrist, and then around the left one. He pushes both my arms up and, moving around on the mattress, he ties me up to the bedposts. I struggle against my bindings, testing his knots, but there’s no way out from this: now he’s in control. He has all the control.

  “What now?” I ask him, a wild grin on my face.

  “Now… Now you’re mine for me to do as I please,” he whispers against my ear, my pussy growing even wetter as his words go straight to my brain. Mine for him to do as he pleases… Has anyone ever said anything more wickedly delicious? I doubt it.

  I tremble as I feel the touch of his fingers on my ankles; he brushes his fingertips against my skin and then, grabbing my heels, he takes them off and then I hear a dry sound as they hit the floor.

  “Do it… Whatever you want,” I whisper, barely able to hear my own words. My heart is pounding so hard into my eardrums that I’m practically deaf right now.

  “That’s exactly what I’m going to do,” I hear him say, the sound of his voice coming at me as if we are in a dream. In a sense, we are. I mean, this is a dream come true, in every sense of the word. In fact, I don’t think that dreams can ever be this good.

  His fingertips go over my skin, slowly moving up my legs until they meet the hem of my dress. Using his thumbs, he pushes the fabric until it’s around my waist, and my skin prickles as I imagine him looking at my soaked thong. Then, I feel his lips above my right knee, and he starts laying gentles kisses over my body in an upward line until he reaches my inner thigh. Instead of going for my pussy, though, his mouth moves to the side and his kisses go for my other thigh.

  “I need to see you,” he whispers and then, as if his words weren’t clear enough, he continues, “I need to see all of you.” Placing both of his hands on my thighs, he parts my legs and kneels himself there; then, he flattens the palm of his hands over my stomach and runs them up until his fingertips are touching my collarbones. “I’m sorry, love,” he says, and then he pulls the fabric harshly. The dress strains against my body, and then there’s a ripping sound as the fabric tears. He pulls until the whole dress comes off and, as soon as that happens, he rests his fingertips on my stomach once more. Moving softly, he traces a straight line with his fingers toward my cleavage, and he only stops when he meets my bra. As my bra fastens at the front, he just flicks his fingers and undoes the clasp, the cups sliding off of my breasts smoothly. “You’re fucking perfect, love…” he whispers, his fingers moving over the curve of my right breast and then gently circling my hard nipple.

  “This is torture, Connor…” I tell him, my voice quivering as his fingers inch closer to my rosy tip.

  “I know,” he says, and I sense the wide grin he has on his face. He’s really enjoying himself… And, well, so am I. There’s something about being with a man while you’re blindfolded and tied up—there’s a sense of vulnerability that you wouldn’t get otherwise, and that just makes everything so much better. It’s frustrating, sure, but I’d say the payoff merits the effort.

  Connor traces soft lines around my nipple, but he never touches it. When he moves to my left breast and does the same there, my heart kicks and thrashes against my ribcage in protest. I want, no, I need his touch… And he knows it. Instead of giving me what I want, he has chosen to tease and torture me, to draw me completely insane.

  “Connor…” I whisper, raising my hips from the bed as my body begs for more, so much more. Still, he keeps on teasing me, circling my nipples with maddening patience. I’m so wet right now that I already feel my fluids dripping down my thighs and soaking the sheets under me. I try and struggle against the ties, but it’s a futile mission; unless he unties me, I don’t have a say on what happens now. And, as frustrating as it is, I can’t help but love it.

  “Patience, love… Good things come to those who wait,” he tells me and, at that exact moment, he pinches my right nipple between his thumb and index finger. Violent electric sparks rage through my body as I succumb to his pressure, and I squirm in place as he starts to pinch harder and harder. Panting, I bite on my lower lip as the pain goes from my nerve endings to my brain, and there it turns into pure pleasure. When he does the same to my left nipple, pinching both of them at the same time, I can’t stop myself from moaning as loud as I can. I told you that I was very, very wet, didn’t I? Well, that’s nothing compared to the state I’m in right now. Swear to God, I’m so wet that I m
ight just die of dehydration.

  “I… I want more,” I cry out loud, swaying my hips from side to side. The moment I open my mouth to speak, Connor stops pinching my nipples and flattens the palm of his hands, squeezing both my breasts gently and making me purr with delight. Then, letting go, he brushes his fingers down to my stomach, closing in on the place that really matters. Still, he stops inches away from my pussy, stopping before he takes his fingers down my inner thighs. He strokes my skin there, and then goes for my groins… He’s so close to my pussy now that I can’t help but lift my hips from the mattress once more, trying to force my pussy against his hand. To no avail, of course, he lays his forearm across my waist and pins me down harshly.

  “You really can’t wait, can you?” he asks me mischievously, and I nod as if I’m running a fever, anxiety filling every single one of my muscles.

  “I need --” Connor cuts me short by flattening his hand against my pussy, taking his forearm off of my stomach and keeping me down with just the pressure of his hand. I gasp as I feel his touch on my pussy, my inner lips burning with desire, and then he makes it even better by turning his hand and placing his thumb above my clit. He starts to rub it with quick short circles, and I sway my hips from side to side, pressing my pussy against his hand. “Oh, God…” I moan as he starts to run one finger up and down the length of my pussy, gently teasing me. “Please, Connor… I can’t take this anymore…” I sigh heavily, my body burning from the inside out.

  “I know,” he responds simply as he pushes his index finger past my folds and, curling it upward like a hook, he presses it against my G-spot. The moment I feel his touch there I grit my teeth and hiss, my body tensing up as all his teasing finally turns into something more tangible.

  He doesn’t even move his finger—no, he just keeps it against my G-spot while he circles my clit with his thumb, but that’s all it takes. After torturing me for so long, every nerve ending in my body is as sensitive as it has ever been, and so every single touch of his propels me down pleasure’s lane. My muscles become so tense they seem like concrete, and a high voltage current travels up and down my spine as my mind spins into a disarray of thoughts. I come with a scream, the sound of it exploding in the air as the winds of ecstasy whirl the thoughts in my head into a pool of irrationality. And that’s when he starts to finger me.