Jock: A Secret Baby Sports Romance

by Irons, Aubrey

  And I’m pressed right up against the glass while I teeter on the edge of my climax, my exposed nipples hard and aching as they press against the cool glass, my jaw slack, and my hands leaving streaks across the window as I claw at the last shred of my sanity.

  “Now be a good girl and come for me,” he growls into my ear.

  And I explode.

  My orgasm slams through me, shaking me to my core and almost buckling my knees as I rake my fingers down the glass. My eyes squeeze shut as my thighs clamp tight on his fingers, my cries coming staggered and stuttered on my lips as I crash into the abyss.

  Slowly, I become aware of my surroundings again as I feel him slide his fingers from between my legs. I turn, leaning against the glass and catching my breath as I lock eyes with the man who just shattered my world.

  Slowly, his eyes never leaving mine, he brings his fingers to his lips and sucks them into his mouth.

  It’s filthy.

  It’s so crude.

  …And it makes me want to jump on his cock right then and there.

  “Guess we better get to that signing I’m late for.”

  I blink, my eyes still focused on his lips as they clean the taste of my pussy off of them.

  I nod, still catching my breath as I bend to reach for my panties lying there on the floor.

  “Uh-uh.” Holden reaches down and plucks the lacy blue thong from the floor before I can. He stands, shaking his head at me as he grins that cocky, wolfish grin. He balls them up and slips them into his fucking pocket. “These are mine now.”

  * * *

  There’s a throbbing heat pulsing between my legs the whole way back to the conference room.

  It’s there that I make us pause just outside the door to the room in order to will the wild red flush from my cheeks and to pull my hair back into some semblance of a bun.

  And it’s there when we sweep inside, my heart still pounding a million miles an hour as Holden gives the thumbs up that he’s ready to take the jump.

  That damn throbbing feeling is still there as we sit around the conference table, still there as he signs the damn contracts, and still there while I try and ignore the fact that I’m not wearing any damn panties.

  The feeling remains, like this aching, lingering, dirty little itch, even after the whole thing is over, and I make the first excuse I can to go running from the room.

  24

  London

  Holden is officially my employee.

  The man who does those things to my body and makes me feel so deliciously and sinfully filthy now works for me.

  It was dirty before; it’s just plain wrong now. Hell, it’s probably a breach of both our contracts now.

  And so, it’s a good thing I’ve decided in my head that it’s over, and never happening again. I’m getting my apparently raging and certifiably insane hormones in check, and I’m going to restrain myself from getting all turned around with this man.

  Because it’s not worth it - to either my career or my pride.

  I lock myself away in my office for the rest of the day, but not before I march back up to the box seats with Windex and a roll of paper towels and clean my fingerprints off the damn glass, my face throbbing with heat.

  Still without any panties, I might add.

  But after that, I bury myself in paperwork and researching some last-minute pre-season scouting - anything to get my mind off him and what we just did.

  It’s later that I jolt away from my computer screen at the sound of a knock at my door.

  Please don’t be him, please don’t be him.

  It can’t be Holden. Because as adamant as I want to say I am in my decision to nip this whole thing in the bud right now, I know if it’s him, alone with me in this office with a locked door, I won’t be able to stop myself.

  Thankfully, it’s Serena who pops her head in.

  “There you are.” She sighs as she steps inside and plops down in a chair across the desk from me. “You skipped lunch.”

  Tuesdays are taco-Tuesdays for Serena and me at the Mexican food truck that parks down the street from the stadium, and I completely forgot today.

  I make a face.

  “Shit, I forgot,” I pout. “Sorry, I was up to my eyeballs in scouting homework.”

  She shrugs, pushing her enviously luxurious dark hair over one shoulder.

  “It’s cool, I figured you were busy. I skipped tacos in solidarity,” she says, dramatically holding a hand over her heart.

  I grin.

  “You’re the best.”

  “Right? Dude, I skipped taco-Tuesday for you. Remember that.”

  She flashes a smile at me as I crack up.

  “Anyways, the day is still young, and there’s still time for tacos. Pack your shit up and let’s go get Mexican for dinner to celebrate.”

  “Celebrate what?”

  Serena rolls her eyes.

  “Uh, you signing the biggest player in the league?”

  I do everything in my power to keep the flush from my cheeks as I shrug as casually as possible.

  “Oh, yeah.”

  Serena gives me a look, one eyebrow raised.

  “He is the biggest, isn’t he?”

  I lose the war of the red face. Instantly.

  “Excuse me?” I sputter.

  My friend grins wickedly, wagging her eyebrows.

  “You know what I’m talking about.”

  I quickly shake my head back and forth.

  “I do not.”

  “Oh, yeah, okay,” she says with a roll of her eyes.

  “Serena, that would be wildly unprofessional,” I force myself to frown. “And gross.”

  She snorts. “Right, gross. It’s gross to hook up with the hottest man in pro sports.” She waves a dismissive hand at me.

  “Serena, he’s a total whore.”

  She laughs. “Those are all just tabloid stories. And if anything, I’m sure he’s an amazing lay.”

  “Well, be my guest to find out,” I say quickly.

  Her brow raises. “Oh yeah?”

  I’m fairly positive that she knows me far too well for me to keep pretending that I’m fooling her at all, but I keep going.

  I shrug. “Why not?”

  A smile teases her lips. “So you wouldn’t have any trouble with me hooking up with Holden Cade.”

  “Nope.”

  “No problems at all with me getting him into bed and riding that big, thick-”

  I cringe, waving my hands in the air as I make a face.

  “Okay, okay, okay; stop. Gross.”

  Serena laughs and grins wickedly at me.

  “You’re not fooling me, by the way.”

  “You’re making things up.”

  She sighs heavily.

  “Whatever. Keep holding out on me with the juicy details if you want to.” She glances at her watch. “Well? C’mon! Tacos!”

  I’m suddenly reminded that I’m not wearing any underwear.

  Because they’re stuffed into Holden Cade’s pocket.

  “These are mine now.”

  My face instantly flushes at the myriad of filthy, wicked thoughts that flit into my head at what he could be doing with my underwear at this moment before I take a deep breath and clear my head.

  “I should go home first and-”

  “Oh, fuck that; no way. I actually skipped lunch entirely, and I’m starving.” She jumps up from her seat and nods with her head. “Tacos and margaritas beckon; let’s go!”

  Great.

  * * *

  I don’t realize how hungry I am too until I’m sitting in the booth of our favorite Mexican restaurant with the menu in front of me.

  No, not hungry; I’m starving.

  Both Serena and the waiter look at me like I’m insane as I order the “El Champion” burrito with extra everything, a side of chips and salsa, an ear of elote corn, and an avocado salad.

  The waiter finishes writing down my ludicrous order with a look the might just be “impresse
d” on his face.

  “And, anything to drink with that, Miss?”

  Serena snorts. “You want like a whole case of beer with that?”

  I roll my eyes at her and turn back to our waiter.

  “Just water, thanks.”

  “Aww what?” Serena throws her hands in the air. “What part of ‘celebrating’ did you not get?”

  I sigh. “Serena, I’ve had a long day, I’ve got another long one tomorrow, and I honestly just don’t feel like drinking.”

  “You’re insane. That’s a perfect reason to be drinking.” She turns to our poor waiter. “She’ll have a margarita, with salt.”

  “I’m not a child, you know, I can order for myself,” I mutter after he walks away.

  “For yourself and a family of four, apparently.”

  Serena busies herself with telling me about her day until our drinks come.

  “Cheers.”

  I clink my frosty glass to hers, but I only pretend to take a sip afterwards. I wasn’t kidding about having a ton of work still to do tonight, and besides that, there’s something about a salty-sweet margarita that just isn’t appealing to me at the moment anyway.

  “So, you’re not involved with Holden?”

  I roll my eyes. “Do you want it in writing?”

  She grins.

  “So, seeing him with another woman, or women, wouldn’t make you jealous at all.”

  I frown, swallowing what I want to say. Because the answer - as humiliating as it is to even admit to myself - is yes.

  I sure as hell won’t say that out loud, though.

  “Nope, not at all. He’s just a player, Serena.”

  “Oh, good.” Serena arches a brow. “Then it’s okay if you turn around.”

  What.

  I whirl, and instantly wish I hadn’t.

  Oh you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.

  Of all the fucking restaurants in Houston, he has to pick this one.

  Holden’s sitting at a high-top table in the bar with three gorgeous women. Three very flirty, very handsy, very giggling women. Randy is with him, along with a few other suits who work for my father, but Holden is without question the center of attention. One girl is feeding him shrimp cocktail with bedroom eyes, while another one traces a finger up his chest.

  I quickly turn back around, shrugging as stiffly as anyone has ever tried to casually shrug in the history of the world.

  “Yeah, so?”

  Serena rolls her eyes.

  “Ooookay, fine. Never mind. Just thought I’d mention it in case you wanted to leave.”

  “Girl, you are delusional. You’re chasing at nothing here.”

  “Oh, okay.” She gives me another prying look, and I quickly jump to a new subject.

  “You know what? Fuck it, let’s get something to celebrate. See if you can flag down our waiter and grab us something good.”

  “Like?”

  “Think they’ve got Pappy Van Winkle here?”

  Serena rolls her eyes. “You going to pretend to drink that too?”

  I ignore her as I glance around for our waiter. I also decide right then to completely ignore the fact that he’s here as well.

  Because Holden Cade is my employee, and nothing else. He was a fling - a purely physical if not poorly thought-through dalliance. He was a one-time thing, and he needs to stay there in the past as that one-night mistake. I’m a grown woman, and I will not let one man have this sort of control over-

  Serena coughs and kicks me under the table.

  “Well hey there.”

  Goddamnit.

  I turn from scanning the room for our waiter and look right up into Holden’s grinning, stupidly handsome face.

  “Oh, hi,” I say shortly.

  “We’re celebrating,” Serena says easily.

  “Oh?”

  He turns to look right at me, giving me the same smug, heated look he gave me in the private booth as he licked my pussy from his fingers.

  …And goddamnit if my body doesn’t respond. Traitorously, horribly, with rushing pulse and a catch of breath.

  Stupid body.

  I swallow that down though as I set my jaw.

  “Well what are we celebrating then?”

  “Bagging you,” Serena says quickly, a smug grin on her face.

  Holden just looks right at me with a raised eyebrow, and I can feel my cheeks go pink.

  “Now that’s something worth celebrating.”

  “Just another day at the office,” I say with forced brightness, smiling thinly at him.

  “Oh, definitely a fun day at the office,” he says, arching a brow at me suggestively.

  I feel my pulse thud in my ears.

  “You know,” he nods. “I really think I’m going to like it here.”

  “Well,” I shrug. “You did sign, so that’s good.”

  Holden only grins wider at me.

  “So how’d you like the stadium?” Serena interjects.

  “Oh, man. The view from the box seats?” he whistles slowly. “Priceless.”

  I sink into my seat, groaning.

  “Hoooolden!” One of the girls from his table in the bar is waving flirtatiously with fanned fingers. I roll my eyes.

  “You should get back.”

  He rolls his eyes. “I think I’d rather hang at this table to be honest,” he mutters. He stoops down, elbows on the head of our table. “It’s getting ridiculous over there.”

  “Yeah it must be hard choosing which groupie skank to bang tonight, huh?” I say thinly.

  He grins, and that look says it all even if he doesn’t say words.

  He knows he’s getting to me. He knows he’s under my skin.

  And that grin says he loves it, knowing that he is.

  “I honestly just want to settle into my new place and relax, truth be told,” he says with a shrug.

  “You know, kick back, watch some Sports Center, and figure out where I’m going to hang my trophies. I’ve got this new one I need to figure out what to do with.”

  I almost jump out of my seat at the feel of his hand on my leg. My eyes dart to his, only to see him wag his brows as he subtly gestures down. I follow his eyes, and then I’m just about to melt into the booth as I see what he’s holding in his hands under my side of the table where only I can see.

  My damn panties.

  “Figure out where I’m going to hang my trophies.”

  Oh my God he’s ridiculous.

  I’m debating how subtly I could reach down and snag them back when he twirls them once around a finger and then stuffs them back into his pocket.

  Asshole.

  “Got a lot of trophies do you?” I say icily.

  Serena kicks my leg under the table and shoots me a glaring look.

  “Some more fun than others,” Holden says with a flash of white teeth.

  “Holden!” Two of the bubbly girls from his table come giggling over.

  “C’mon! We’re going to the roof-deck pool at the Premier Hotel!”

  “Topless pool party, Holden!”

  Their hands are all over him, touching him, pulling at him.

  “Holden!” Randy hollers from the bar area. “Let’s go, pal!”

  Holden frowns as he stands. “I, uh, I gotta go.”

  “I’m sure you do,” I say with a thin smile.

  His eyes flash at me before he allows himself to be pulled away from our table. I look up to see Serena looking pointedly at me.

  “Oh, what,” I mutter.

  She shakes her head. “Nothing at all, hon. Nothing at all.”

  The food arrives at our table, but I’ve got zero appetite for it now. And I’m poking at my avocado salad with a fork when I hear one last giggling line from Holden’s table at the bar.

  “I didn’t even bring a swimsuit, Holden!” The girl squeals out, giggling shrilly.

  That’s it.

  It’s the last straw for me trying to pretend none of this is getting to me, as much as I hate that it is.
/>
  Fuck this.

  Because I was wrong. I am jealous.

  Or, something.

  Whatever it is, I’m not sitting here and watching this display or thinking about him and his little harem frolicking around a pool later.

  I push my plate away.

  “I need to go.”

  Serena frowns. “The food just got here, dude. And we haven’t even ordered your fancy whiskey yet!”

  “I - yeah, I don’t want it.”

  “London,” she gives me a sympathetic look. “You know what he is don’t-”

  “Oh my God this has nothing to do with that tool, okay? I’m just feeling a little nauseous right now.”

  She gives me another look before nodding slowly. “Okay, okay.”

  I stand as I toss some money on the table.

  “Look, could you have them box this up and just bring it for lunch tomorrow or something?”

  She nods. “Call me if you want to, okay?” Serena raises a brow pointedly. “You know, if you want to talk about being sick or whatever.”

  There’s another bout of giggling from the bar as I storm out of the restaurant.

  25

  London

  I’ve barely been home long enough to change into pj’s and fire up Netflix when there’s a pounding on my door.

  I frown, wondering who the hell that could be, when the apartment phone rings.

  “Ms. Jacobs?” David, the building concierge, sounds strained and worried.

  “Yes?”

  The knock comes sharp on my door again.

  “I’m so sorry, Ms. Jacobs, I asked him to wait while I called you, but he just pushed past me to the stairwell!”

  The knock comes three more times, but this time, I know exactly who it is.

  I sigh. “No, it’s okay, David. Thanks, I’ve got it.”

  I scowl as I hang up, looking down at my tank top and pajama shorts.

  Wonderful.

  Holden knocks again - insistently and demandingly and in a way that makes me think I’ll have my neighbors complaining before I have time to change. I manage to duck in front of the mirror in the entryway and make my hair look somewhat presentable before I finally yank the door open.