Jock: A Secret Baby Sports Romance

by Irons, Aubrey

  “Ouch, darlin.”

  “You don’t have to stay, you know.”

  Dalton arches a brow at me, a smirk on his face. “Naw, it’s fine.” He looks past me. “So how are these crappy dorm beds, anyways?”

  He suddenly moves past me, and before I can even open my mouth, he’s slumping down across my bed, totally wrecking my neatly organized preparation.

  “Dalton!”

  “What?” He jerks his head up.

  I groan. “Damnit, you’re laying on my stuff.”

  He sits up and looks behind him sheepishly. “Oh, whoops.” He gets up off my - until then - nicely folded clothes. “Shit, my bad.”

  “It’s fine,” I mutter.

  “Hang on, I can fix this.”

  He turns and starts to paw through my clothes.

  “Wait, Dalton-”

  He suddenly turns back with a cocky little grin on his face, holding my freaking panties in his hand.

  My face goes red. “Put those down!”

  “You don’t seriously wear these, do you?”

  I glare at him, feeling my face burning up. “Of course I wear them!” I go to snatch them out of his hands, but he lifts them above my head. I scowl at him. “And what is wrong with them?”

  He laughs. “They’re like grandma panties, that’s what’s wrong with them.”

  “They are not! They’re comfortable.”

  He whirls, twirling my damn underwear around his finger. “Damn, I didn’t even think girls wore shit like this anymore.”

  I roll my eyes before I quickly yank them out of his hand and glare at him. “Not everyone is a skank, you know.”

  “Hey, lots of girls like thongs, you know.” He turns and strolls across the room to my dresser. “What else you got in here?” He pulls open the top drawer and starts to poke around.

  I groan loudly as I march over and yank his hand out, slamming the drawer shut. “Damnit, get your hands out of there!”

  That grin creeps back to his face. “What?” He winks at me. “You don’t like my hands in your panties?”

  I feel that embarrassingly heated flush creep through me, and I quickly look away to hide my bright red face. “Look, I have to go brush my teeth and get ready for bed. Just behave, okay?”

  “No promises.”

  * * *

  In the bathroom down the hall, I look up into the mirror above the sink. Water drips from my face before I pat it dry with my towel, slipping my glasses back on and taking a deep breath as I slowly shake my head.

  Dalton Cole is sleeping in my room tonight.

  Yeah, no big deal. I’ve been at college for all of six days, classes haven’t even started yet, and I have a boy sleeping over.

  Oh don’t be ridiculous.

  I glare at my reflection, squashing down the stupid, idiotic feelings of illicit excitement that threaten to flutter up like butterflies inside of me.

  This isn’t a boy, sleeping over - and certainly not like that.

  This is Dalton - gross, obnoxious, annoying Dalton.

  My stepbrother.

  Nothing is going to happen, even if he insists on trying to rile me up and riddle me with crude innuendos and dick-references just to get to me. And I know he’s just doing it because he seems to take pleasure in making me blush and squirm. But I am not one of his little groupie skanks, fawning and giggling over everything he does or says, just waiting for a chance to try and “get with” him.

  Now quit letting him get to you, I mutter to myself with a final quick look in the bathroom mirror before I grab my stuff and head back to the room.

  It’s no big deal, it’s just Dalt-

  I yank open the door to my room and suddenly collide right into him. I gasp as his hands go around me, catching me as I trip back over my own feet. And suddenly, I’m right against him, looking up into those sharp blue eyes with my hands flat against his bare, chiseled chest.

  “Oh!” I blink and swallow thinly as his eyes burn into mine, his arms wrapped around my body and his hands warm on my back through my t-shirt.

  “Uh, sorry, I was just going to piss.”

  “Yeah, I-” I swallow the lump that forms in my throat, feeling my breath catch and my pulse race in my ears. I’m so close to him, inhaling the scent of him and feeling my head swim. He smells like man, and his body is so hard and hot against me.

  He grins down at me. “I -uh, still have to piss.”

  I blink, the spell lifting as I quickly shake my head and step away from him. “It’s a girls’ floor, Dalton.”

  “I don’t think they’ll mind, do you?” he says with that grin that’s somehow gone right back to infuriating.

  “Just, don’t make a scene,” I say quickly as he steps past me into the hallway.

  The most infamous, conspicuous man on campus turns and flashes me a smile, standing there shirtless in just a pair of jeans in the middle of the hallway. “Hey, it’s me,” he says with a shrug before he saunters off towards the bathroom.

  Yeah, exactly what I’m afraid of.

  * * *

  I’ve cleared my bed and squirmed under the covers by the time I hear the door open. I hear him shuffling behind me before he clears his throat.

  “Can I get, like, a pillow or something?”

  I sit up and grab one of my extra pillows to toss his way. “Uh, yeah, sorr- Dalton!”

  The shuffling sound was apparently him pulling his jeans off, because he’s standing there all but naked in my dorm room in just a pair of black boxer-briefs.

  He shrugs with a grin. “What?”

  “Jesus, Dalton, put some damn clothes on.”

  “Hey, I sleep naked at home,” he drawls, winking at me.

  I throw the pillow at him. “Well don’t you dare try and pull that here or I really will kick you out on the street.”

  “No problem, sis.”

  I wrinkle my nose and toss him the folded quilt from the end of my bed. I turn my back to him again and pull the covers up. “Goodnight, Dalton.”

  “Night, Hails.”

  He shuffles around for another few minutes before I finally hear him lie still. Slowly, his breathing becomes regular as I lie there in the dark, still feeling my heart hammering in my chest while I listen to him fall asleep.

  Dalton Cole is spending the night with me.

  Yeah, not with me, but I still frown at the stupid, silly grin that manages to creep across my face.

  Dalton Cole - the man with the reputation.

  The man with the self-centered, arrogant attitude.

  The man with the legendary cock.

  …Is sleeping in my dorm room.

  I quickly squeeze my eyes shut and try and will myself to sleep.

  12

  Dalton

  Needless to say, practice the next day is a fucking bitch. I’m hungover as fuck, my head’s pounding, and I can’t even think straight.

  The first two are entirely booze related, but it’s that third one that has everything to do with my morning wake-up. Because coming to consciousness feeling like shit on a dorm room floor sucks. When that dorm room floor belongs to a girl who I didn’t sleep with, it sucks even more.

  But, opening my eyes to the sight I saw this morning?

  Yeah, better than all the Tylenol in the damn world.

  I’d barely been able to open my gritty eyes - my mouth like sandpaper and my brain about to melt out of my skull. But I’d managed to go from personal hell to absolute heaven when I laid eyes on Hailey.

  Holy shit.

  Hailey Garrison, still asleep, but with all the covers kicked off. Hailey Garrison, facing me with her eyes closed and this damn angelic look on her face, a stray lock of hair draped across her face.

  More importantly though, Hailey Garrison with one leg outstretched with the other curled up beneath her, wearing only a pair of fucking panties and a t-shirt.

  Yeah, I was feeling better in a damn second.

  It’s not like she was wearing anything explicit or anything
sexy - actually, they were the same pair I’d caught that quick glimpse of the night before when she opened the door. But damn if they weren’t molded to that tight little ass of hers.

  Shit, I mean whoever would have thought that nerdy little Hailey Garrison had the best looking ass I’ve ever fucking seen?

  That nerdy Batman t-shirt was pulled up a little, flashing her bare hip and stomach, and pulled tight across her tits. Her nipples were hard and poking through the thin cotton, and the whole thing had me more alert than a strong cup of coffee the second I laid eyes on her.

  Half-snoring, no makeup, hair all a mess, legs tangled up in her sheets, and sexy as all fucking hell.

  I mean, I’ve had morning wood before, but I was hard enough to cut fucking steel waking up to that sight. I’d groaned as my eyes landed between her slightly spread legs, at the slight outline of her pussy lips against the cotton of her panties.

  Damn.

  It was enough to get my dick surging hard and hungry for more.

  Jesus I should have gotten laid last night, I’d grumbled to myself. Before, I came over to Hailey’s.

  And that’s part of why my head is all messed up at practice - still trying to figure out why the hell I passed up on a foursome with three sorority girls and ended up going over for obviously nothing sexual at Hailey’s dorm.

  Because that is not how Dalton Cole operates, I’ll tell you what.

  In the end, I managed to yank my eyes away from the sleeping girl before I became some sort of creep. I grabbed my stuff, pulled the sheet up over her, and ducked out.

  I’ve “ducked out” of a hundred bedrooms the morning after before, but I’ve never walked out with that much of a grin on my face.

  Despite not getting laid.

  And now I’m at practice, running my ass off, getting it handed to me, and getting it chewed out by Coach.

  Finally though, we get a break, and I managed to drag my sorry, booze-soaked ass over to the water-station. There’s a clap on my back, and I wince as I turn to see Evan looking about as shitty as I feel.

  “You as rough as me, bro?”

  I pull a face and shake my head, wincing at the motion.

  Evan grins, “Well, yeah, partying that hard the night before practice wasn’t really the plan, but oh well.” He laughs, “Fuck man, I heard you brought it with that drinking game with those chicks.”

  I groan, feeling my stomach turn. “Yeah, I-”

  “Dude,” Evan laugh and shakes his head. “The point of Never Have I Ever is to get the girls ready to fuck, not get them so drunk they black out on you.” He hoots out a laugh and pats me on the back again. “Anyways, sorry shit didn’t work out with that present. Jen and the rest of the Kappa girls though? They’re yours for the taking, bro.”

  I nod, because I know I should. Except I’m not thinking about the damn Kappa girls and their willingness to fuck me as a group any way I please. I’m thinking of those cotton panties pulled tight across Hailey Garrison’s tight little ass, and her complete unwillingness to even give me the time of day.

  Evan shrugs guiltily. “Listen man, I, uh - I may have fucked the blonde one last night though. I mean, after you left and all.”

  I snort. “Which blonde one?”

  I’m not aware of Kappa girls coming in any other flavor, honestly.

  Evan frowns. “Cassie? No, wait, it might have been Sarah.” He grins and shrugs. “I dunno man, one of them. She woke up looking for you and I guess I was the next best thing.” He laughs again before he shoots me a look. “Hope that’s cool.”

  I roll my eyes. “Dude, you’re a junior; I’m a freshman. And it’s not like I own those girls or anything. No harm no foul, man.”

  Evan shakes his head and looks away before he turns back. “Dude, do you still not get it?” He grins. “You’re Dalton fucking Cole, man - you own whatever the fuck you want and fuck whoever the hell you want on this campus.”

  Coach Garrison blows his whistle and Evan starts to yank his helmet back on. “Get used to that, dick,” he says, laughing as he fist-bumps me and runs back to his position.

  Yeah, right.

  Any girl on campus, whenever I want, however I want. It should have me drooling at the mouth. It should have me ready to run off this field and get myself balls-deep in a coed as soon as humanly possible. It should have me walking up to the Kappa house and fucking my way through the entire damn sorority - because I can.

  Except it doesn’t make me want any of those things. It’s empty, and flat, because for all the strange and willing pussy on campus, there’s one fucking girl who’s managed to slip her way under my damn skin.

  And that one girl has got my cock harder than a fucking goal post despite wanting nothing to do with me.

  * * *

  I duck back home to change after practice, my head still feeling like it’s shattered into a hundred pieces. The hot shower in my guest apartment above the garage is perfect, scalding hot against my skin and sore muscles, letting me sweat out the awful practice and the booze from last night.

  Jesus, I need to get my head on straight.

  This is my damn kingdom, which means I need to run it like one. I need to get my shit in line, not just party my way through a losing season, that’s for sure.

  Being hung over is my own damn fault, and the last thing I need is some tender-footed coach coddling me and making me feel like the celebrity instead of the player.

  Thankfully - or maybe not - one day into practice and it’s clear Coach Garrison is not going to be giving me any passes because of who I am. Which is why he was in my face cutting me down to fucking size today.

  Part of me wonders what he’d say if he knew where I’d slept last night.

  I don’t think it would be pretty.

  And he wasn’t wrong. I need to get my fucking head screwed on straight if I don’t want to tank my whole career before it starts.

  I mean, the NFL. I dreamed of that shit when I was a kid, but to have it right there and almost within my grasp is something surreal. In three years, when I’m eligible for the draft, that could be me, but only if I want it enough and only if I work for it hard enough.

  Only if I don’t fuck up along the way.

  And there are shitloads of things along the way that could mess things up that are out of my hands, like an injury, or a better team, or just shit luck in a season. But then there are the things well within my control that’ll dump the blame squarely in my lap if I let them get the best of me - partying too much, chasing tail more than the ball.

  Or thinking the sort of thoughts I’m thinking about the Coach’s damn daughter, aka my stepsister.

  Because however enticingly off-limits Hailey is, no matter how much her not being into me has me more and more interested in her, I need to keep my dick in my pants and my head on damn straight.

  Because she is off-limits. Not in a flirtatious “chase it and work for it” kind of way, either. In the very real, very career-ending-because-the-scandal-would-bury-me kind of way.

  Not to mention Coach burying me in a shallow grave.

  And those images alone should get me off my current train of thought. The idea of ESPN or something finding out I’m having sleepovers at my damn stepsister’s dorm room should have me shoving Hailey Garrison right out of my head.

  Except the only thought in my head - the only one that matters and the one I can’t get out is the image of that girl sound asleep this morning. The only thing roaring through my head is the image of her lips slightly parted, her hair tossed across her face, and those damn panties this morning molded to that impossibly perfect ass.

  I’m hard as a rock before I know it, and I groan, dropping my forehead to the shower wall.

  So much for getting those thoughts out of my head.

  I’m reaching down and wrapping my hand around my cock before I know it, slowly stroking it as I close my eyes and put myself back in that dorm room this morning. I picture those panties pulled tight across the place between her
legs, my eyes dragging over the smooth silk of her thigh, teasing up the inner seam of those panties that hugged right up against that forbidden, off-limits place between her legs.

  I growl as I stroke myself, the image of Hailey Garrison waking to find me hard and ready. In my head, a shy smile dances on her lips and she arches her back, pushing her ass back towards me as she slowly peels her panties down for me.

  I’m already close, after blue-balling myself last night, and then being near her, inhaling her scent all damn night in that room - not to mention the sight I woke up to.

  But I stop suddenly, groaning as I hold my throbbing dick in my hand.

  What the fuck am I doing?

  Star quarterback Dalton Cole does not jerk off in the shower like some sort of loser - he goes out and gets laid.

  He goes out and gets two sorority girls to suck his cock - goes out and lives out every single hedonistic cliché of a sports-star sex icon.

  Except I’m broken somehow.

  Somehow, Hailey Garrison has my screws loose inside my head. She’s like this little thing in my peripheral vision that’s got me off my game in a major way.

  Something about those nerdy glasses, and the sassy attitude that curiously wants nothing to do with me. Something about that apparently banging body she covers up way more than she should. Or those lips - so pink and soft that I just want to cup her by the chin and slide my cock across them. Something about the innocent, inexperienced-

  I freeze.

  Shit, maybe that’s part of the allure.

  I’m used to a certain - I guess you could say - caliber of women. The type of girl who want to suck a sports-star’s cock under the table of a club, or the type of girl who wants you to take turns on her and her friend - both of whom went out for the night without panties for that very reason.

  Yeah, inexperienced isn’t exactly the word you’d use for those types of women.

  And that’s fine - oh believe me, that is very fine - but it’s all I’ve ever known. Star-fuckers, coked-out models, club-girls, overly-eager cheerleaders.

  But it’s the obvious inexperience - the obvious innocence - of Hailey that gets my cock throbbing rock hard and my blood pumping like fire.