Jock: A Secret Baby Sports Romance

by Irons, Aubrey

  “Darlin,” he growls, his deep voice in my ear and his lips brushing against the side of my neck and making me shiver. “I’m pretty fucking good at doing what I shouldn’t.”

  And then he’s pushing the fabric up over the swell of my breasts, and I’m shivering as my nipples tingle in the cool of the air. I can hear him growl as he pulls away, and I can feel his eyes burning across my skin.

  “I’ll bet that fifty bucks right back that you’ve been this wet for me ever since last night,” He husks into my ear.

  I swallow thickly. “I’m not one of your dirty little skanks, Dalton.”

  He chuckles into my skin, the sound sending a shiver down my spine. “Never said you were, but that doesn’t change that I’m betting you’ve been dying to feel my dirty hands all over you.”

  I quickly shake my head, refusing to let him think he’s got the same power over me that he does with every other woman in the world.

  …Which isn’t true at all, because I am putty in his hands right then.

  “Nope,” I breathe out, trying to keep my voice steady as his fingers and his lips send electric shocks through my body.

  “Oh I think we already covered you being a shitty liar, darlin,” he chuckles, his fingers rubbing over my clit again and again, making my knees start to shake.

  “And I bet you’ve also been dying to get your hands on my cock again,” he sucks my earlobe into his lips. “Haven’t you,” he growls.

  I whimper.

  Thanks a lot, body.

  Dalton pulls back, his eyes blazing into mine as his lips move just shy of mine. “You know you can have every damn inch of it, darlin. Just admit that the thought of me sliding it into you has you dripping down your damn legs.”

  I squeeze my eyes shut as his finger rubs my clit over and over again, and I shake my head. “It does not.”

  Dalton chuckles lowly against my lips, and suddenly, his finger between my legs just stops. “Keep telling yourself that, darlin,” he growls, before he pulls away from me, turns, and walks away.

  And then he’s gone, leaving me furious, flustered, and soaking wet.

  31

  Dalton

  Hailey shuts herself away in her room for the rest of the afternoon. After that, I don’t see her around the house for the next few days.

  Damnit.

  I know I pushed harder than I probably should have, but I can’t fucking help it. Because something about Hailey Garrison makes me want to push things further than they should go.

  Something about me wants to keep pushing things.

  Which is why I find myself prowling around the doorway to her room at Mom’s house, and poking my head inside even though I know she’s back at campus.

  It smells like her in here. Hell, it looks like her in here. There’s a Lord of the Rings poster tacked up on one wall, alongside a framed picture of the moon shot in high definition.

  Jesus she’s a nerd.

  Every girl I’ve ever gone after has been the giggly, vapid, and boring kind. The kind that just says yes, not the kind that banters back. I’ve gone for women who have zero opinions of their own, who choose to mimic those of whoever they’re with instead of thinking for themselves.

  Because it was easy.

  Hailey’s not those things in the slightest bit. She’s sure as hell not easy, she sure doesn’t always say yes, and opinions she’s got in fucking spades.

  She also might have more brains than any of the other girls I’ve been with stacked together.

  And so, I don’t actually care that she’s this big nerd who reads sci-fi books and plays magical fantasy video games. Hell, I fucking like that she is a nerd - I like exactly who she is, because it’s refreshing, and different, and challenging.

  It challenges me, and that’s something I need.

  I turn to leave her room then, but my eyes stop on the box from earlier - the one the lingerie came in - sitting on her bed.

  With the lid ajar.

  I raise a brow.

  But it’s not until I peek inside that my amused, intrigued grin turns downright hungry.

  Because it’s empty. Which means she took the hot little set of lingerie with the pearls running across the seam of the panties.

  …It might mean she’s wearing said panties, too.

  I growl as the mental image saunters through my brain of Hailey, laying back on my bed wearing the black lace and pearls.

  I linger about a quarter second longer in her room before I’m striding out the door and heading right for my car.

  * * *

  I’m raising my fist to pound on Hailey’s dorm room door, when I hear Roxie’s voice behind me.

  “She’s out.”

  I turn to see Hailey’s neighbor standing there with a laundry basket in her hands. “Need something?”

  I shrug. “Nah, my mom wanted me to drop something off for her,” I lie.

  “Uh-huh.” Roxie eyes me, a half-hidden smirk on her face that says she doesn’t really believe any of my bullshit.

  I frown, “What?”

  Roxie shrugs, still half-hiding that little grin. “So, QB, what exactly did your mom want you to drop off at Hailey’s dorm at eleven o’clock at night?” She says, eyeing my empty hands and smirking.

  “Uh, yeah, it’s just this…thing.”

  “Oh, yeah, totally.” Roxie arches a brow. “Can you hold this for a sec?” She pushes the laundry basket into my hands as she fishes in her back pocket for her room key.

  “She’s on a date.”

  Her words hit me like slug to the gut, the red rage clouding my eyes. I almost drop the damn laundry basket before I grit my teeth and force myself to breathe.

  Play it cool, play it cool.

  “Oh yeah?” I say as passively uninterested as I can sound. I grin. “With Paul?”

  “Who?”

  Yeah, that’s what I thought.

  Roxie takes her laundry back out of my hands. “Anyways, if it’s important, you could always swing by that dumb frat party and give it to her.”

  The rage comes roaring back, pulsing through my body and making my jaw tighten. “Hailey’s at a frat?”

  “Yeah, she’s with some guy at a party at one of those gamma delta alpha pie whiskey tango…” Roxie trails off as she shrugs and rolls her eyes. “I don’t speak frat, sorry. But one of those douchebag places with the Greek letters.”

  I run my hands through my hair. “Seriously?”

  “Dude, I know, but she was pretty adamant about getting all dolled up and going out.” Roxie shakes her head, pushing her door open with her foot. “But hey, it honestly might be good for her.”

  I scowl. “How, exactly?”

  “Cause that girl needs to get laid, I’m telling you.”

  The floor seems to drop out beneath me, and I can feel every single muscle in my body tightening as the roaring jealousy burns through me like fire.

  And that’s exactly what it is - jealousy.

  It’s blind, burning, neon-fucking-green jealousy that comes welling up inside of me at the thought of Hailey with any other guy.

  “Seriously, a month of being her next-door neighbor, and I haven’t been kept up once by her getting her groove on. It’s tragic really when you-”

  “Which frat,” I say icily.

  Roxie raises a brow, and that little smirk teases her lips again. “The green house, on Willow Street.”

  Fury blazes inside of me and I want to put my fist through a fucking wall. The thought of her with some other guy has my skin crawling. The thought of anyone else in the world putting their fucking hands on her has me seeing red.

  Because she’s mine.

  The feeling is primal, and raw, and totally caveman-sounding, but I don’t give a fuck. It’s not even jealousy I feel either, it’s rage that some other guy would try and take something that’s mine.

  Roxie furrows her brow, and it looks like she’s about to open her mouth to say something else, but I’m storming down the hallway, heedless
of whatever she’s about to say to me.

  * * *

  I spot her the second I walk in the door, and if I was pissed at the thought of her with another guy before, seeing her with one has me downright fucking furious.

  They’re sitting on a grungy-looking couch towards the back of the place. Hailey looks like Goddamn original sin in this skimpy top and a breezy little skirt that would get me hard as a rock, except I know she’s put it on to get someone else’s attention.

  And it’s fucking working.

  That someone else is this serious douche-bag-looking motherfucker - a total frat dickhead complete with backwards baseball hat and pink fucking polo shirt with the collar popped up.

  The guy has “predator” written all over him, and he’s grinning this smarmy grin at her, leaning into her as she talks. I’m gritting my teeth and seeing red, but when I see his hand on hers, I want to throw him through the fucking wall.

  “Hey, Cole!”

  I’m just making my way towards her when my presence at the party is suddenly recognized.

  “Duuuude!” Some other douchebag comes over to give me some sort of stupid “bro-hug,” slopping beer on me as he grins at me like we’re best fucking friends. A whole gaggle of girls comes rushing over to giggle all over me, fawning over me, batting their eyes, pushing their tits out, trying to take selfies with me.

  I hate this shit.

  And I don’t have time for it either, because all I can think about is the pink polo-shirt asshole putting his fucking hands on Hailey.

  “Here man, have a beer-”

  “Maybe later,” I mutter, pushing the girls and the guy offering me a beer out of the way. Obnoxiously loud rap music thunders in the darkened room as I shove my way through the crowd.

  “Fancy meeting you here.”

  Hailey jerks her head up at the sound of my voice, her face paling before she narrows her eyes at me.

  I smile at her before I turn my wolf-like grin at the shitbag she’s siting with. “Well don’t we look cozy back here!” I shove a bunch of empty cans and bottles and magazines from the dirty coffee table in front of the couch and plop down right in front of them.

  Douchebag’s eyes suddenly go wide as he realizes who I am. “Oh shit! Motha-fuckin Dalton Cole is in the house!” He pumps his fist in the air in a way that makes me want to pump mine through his fucking teeth.

  Hailey glares daggers at me.

  “Hey, thanks for comin’ by the party, bro!” Frat douche holds a fist out. “Man, it’s so awesome that you-”

  “Has she told you yet?” I say loudly, utterly cutting him off as I nod at Hailey.

  He frowns, his eyes darting to her for a second. “Uh, told me what?”

  “Nothing,” Hailey mutters. “I think Dalton was just leaving,” she says icily.

  Not fucking likely.

  I sigh and shake my head dramatically at the douchebag. “Afraid she’s a lesbian, bro.”

  He arches a brow for second before he starts to grin as he turns to look at Hailey with an even more predatory look. “Shit, girl, I am very open to that.”

  Jesus, what a fucking moron.

  I clap my hand down hard on his shoulder and shake my head. “Naw man, not like that. She’s got a wife and everything back home.” I whistle lowly. “Big scary looking chick - pro-wrestler, actually.”

  The guy frowns.

  “Actually, they’re looking to start a family, if you know what I mean.”

  Frat-douche looks confused.

  “They want to have kids.”

  His eyes suddenly go wide as he looks up at me, the pieces coming together.

  “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Hailey mutters, looking away and taking a big swig of the beer in her hand.

  I ignore her and shake my head at the guy, like I’m sympathizing with him. “Yeah, bro - holes in the condom and all that shit.”

  He shudders as he scowls and glances back at Hailey with a look of horror. “Okay, that is fucked up, babe.” He stands abruptly. “That is so fucked up.” He’s shaking his head and muttering as he grabs his beer and turns back to me. “Thanks for looking out for a bro, bro.”

  “Hey, anytime, bro,” I say with sarcasm that’s clearly lost on this fuck-wit. I ignore his outstretched hand and pat him on the back instead. “Happy to help.”

  I turn back to Hailey after he walks away, snatching the beer out of her hand and taking a swig. “Great guy, really. I think I miss him already.”

  She shakes her head at me, her face livid and her mouth open a little. “Are you actually insane?”

  I grin over the lip of her beer. “You’re welcome, by the way. That guy was like the poster child for date rape. You should thank me for getting him out of here.”

  “Fuck you.”

  I blow her a kiss. “Only if you ask nicely.”

  Hailey narrows her eyes at me before she reaches over and snatches the beer back from me. “Why are you here, Dalton?”

  I shrug, “Felt like a beer.”

  “And so you came to the exact party I was at?”

  “I know! What are the odds, right?” I grin at her as she narrows her eyes at me, knowing full well she doesn’t buy it.

  She smiles thinly, “Aww, are you still frustrated from the other day then? Poor baby,” she coos dramatically.

  My cock twitches at the thought of her bare pink nipples from the other morning begging for a suck and that hot little pussy of hers soaking wet through her panties and yoga pants.

  The thought suddenly makes me think of something, and I raise a brow at her. “I noticed you opened my present.”

  Her face goes dark red in the dim light of the frat-house living room, and I grin wickedly, knowing I have my answer. I lean closer, my eyes flashing into hers. “Could one assume you’re wearing said present right now?”

  She swallows quickly, her eyes meeting mine defiantly. “Maybe.”

  “Just maybe, huh?” I can feel my cock throbbing a little at the thought of Hailey wearing the lace and pearl lingerie right now under that little skirt.

  She rolls her eyes, her face growing red. “I borrowed the skirt from Roxie, and I needed to wear something to walk around in that wouldn’t show a-” she lowers her voice. “A panty line, okay?”

  I lean closer, inhaling the scent of her shampoo, resisting the urge to grab her by the hair and bruise her lips with mine. “And how does that something feel, just ‘walking around’?”

  I can remember the saleswoman selling me on this particular set of lingerie - after asking me to pose for a fucking selfie, of course. I can remember her trying her best to be flirty as she mentioned the purpose of the placement of the string of pearls across said panties.

  “Well, your special lady is going to LOVE these, let me tell you.”

  The placement of the pearls has them strung right across the front of the panties, which makes sure the wearer feels each and every bump of those pearls with the slightest movement.

  Those panties are made for a bedroom, and the fact that Hailey’s been walking around in them all night means I know for a damn fact that her pussy is positively dripping wet at that very moment and she’s probably been on edge for hours.

  She blushes at my question, and I groan inside as I see my answer naked across her face. “They’re- they feel fine,” she says quickly, looking away.

  She jumps as I drop my hand to her bare knee, leaning in closer. “Just fine?”

  Hailey swallows quickly again, her big blue eyes darting back to mine. “Why are you here, Dalton?”

  I grin. “I told you-”

  “You damn well know what I mean. Why are you here? I know you’ve probably got a harem of skanks you could call up and do whatever with.” She rolls her eyes as she takes out her phone and starts tapping away.

  She’s right, and that’s the problem. There are a hundred other girls I could call instead of chasing her down and running off her date with childish antics.

  But for whatever fuc
king reason, this girl is ruining me. She’s ruining me for any other girl, and ruining every other girl for me. Because for some Goddamn fucking infuriating reason, it’s like no other girl gets me going like she does. No other girl has my cock as hard or my whole world as turned upside down, and no one else has slipped their way inside my head like Hailey fucking Garrison.

  The last girl in the world that should be doing any of those things for me.

  I roll my eyes, brushing off her words. “Oh c’mon, darlin, like you seriously wanted to talk with that guy anyways.”

  She drops her phone into her bag. “Maybe I wanted to do more than talk with him, Dalton.”

  The words hit me like a slap in the face, and I can feel my face darken with pure rage. The possessiveness of earlier comes rushing back with a damn vengeance as my eyes lock on hers, seeing the fire and the defiance there.

  “Over my dead body,” I mutter, my temper flaring.

  She rolls her eyes. “Oh, drop the possessive bullshit, Dalton.”

  “Yeah?” I meet her glare head-on. “And why should I?”

  She bites her lip, slowly shaking her head. “Because you have to.”

  Fuck that.

  “If you think I’m going to let some other guy get his fucking hands on you-”

  “Oh please, Dalton! The only reason you’re even interested in me is because I wasn’t begging you to sign my tits or sleep with me the second you met me.”

  “The hell does that mean?” I growl.

  “It means I already told you, I am not one of your other girls, okay?” Her voice rises, her eyes darting across mine.

  “Jesus, there are no other gir-”

  She shakes her head, waving her hands in front of me and cutting me off. “No, you know what, forget it. I have to go home.”

  “Hailey-”

  “My cab’s here, Dalton.” She waves her phone at me, and then she’s up and pushing me away. She’s halfway through the crowd before I can even process what just happened.

  I shove my way out of the party in time to see the cab pull up in front of the frat house for her. I run out and grab her by the arm, pulling her around. “We’re not done here.”

  Hailey turns to look me right in the eyes. “You’re right, Dalton, we’re not done, because we never started.”