Football Dick (Big Girls, Bad Boys, and Babies)

by Violet Blaze

  Aaaaaand I am officially losing it.

  Rhoden grabs the bag I packed—overpacked actually—and tosses it onto his shoulder. We're only here for one night and yet I brought along an entire wardrobe. Okay, well Hal and Ariana brought along an entire wardrobe because they were the ones that actually stuffed the bag full of crap.

  Rhoden smiles at me like he knows what I'm thinking and leads me up the front steps to the door, swinging it wide without bothering to knock.

  Inside, the room is a warm mix of wood paneled walls, worn leather furniture and a hulking fireplace made up of river rocks. It's definitely got that cabin-y vibe, what with the deer heads staring at me from the wall opposite us. But it's cute. Authentic. Definitely country.

  I smile as a woman appears from around the corner, drying her hands with a white dish towel.

  “I know what you're thinking,” she says as she points up at the dead animals. “I don't like them much either, but my dad's dad was big into hunting. These have been hanging here since I was a kid.”

  “Mom,” Rhoden says as LD and Billy rush the room like linebackers and head straight for Rhoden's mother. She must have the same commanding presence as her son because they don't bother to jump up on her, running in tight circles around the living room until they get the chance to bump into me instead. Rhoden shoos them away. “Mom, this is Della Garland. Della, I'd like you to meet my mother, Molly Richards.”

  “Get over here, and stop being so formal.” Rhoden's mom moves over to us, letting her son wrap her up in his big strong arms. It's one of the cutest things I've ever seen in my life. The small brunette is dwarfed by her only son, a good foot shorter than him but just as pretty. They have the same dark eyes, full lips, strong cheekbones. I'd know they were related even if I'd never met them before.

  When Molly pulls back and looks at me, her smile is soft and her expression is open. I start to panic as she moves over to me and takes my hands.

  “Della Garland, huh?” she asks, her voice softer and more melodic than I'd expected. It matches her pixie small face and the pink blouse she's wearing with her jeans. When Rhoden said she was a single mother, he didn't mention that she was a young single mother. She's nowhere near as old as my dad or stepmom. And apparently, she also drives a motorcycle and lives in a cabin with dead deer. You'd never guess just by looking at her. “I really enjoyed your blog.”

  I blush as she smiles up at me.

  “I'm sorry about the pumpkin bread,” I say and then there's a long pause before she throws her head back and laughs, just like her son.

  “No worries. He,” she jerks her thumb at Rhoden, “gobbled it up like the monster he is. Personally, I think his vigor had something to do with the fact that it was your recipe.” I keep blushing and Molly laughs again, letting go of my hands and putting hers on her hips. “Thanks for coming all the way out here to meet me.” She nods her chin in my direction. “I know it's a little early, but if you need any help with that baby, just call me. I can come into the city at any time. Or you could even come up here.”

  “Mom,” Rhoden says, breaking Molly's dark eyed concentration on me. She turns her attention back to her son. “Which room do you want us in?”

  “Use the guest room down here,” she says, stepping back from me with a sly look on her face. “I don't need my young son and his girlfriend in the room next to me, thanks.” She winks mischievously which makes me blush even harder. Great. What kind of an impression am I making here? “Clearly you two must be up to something if you got yourselves pregnant already.”

  “Thanks, Mom, I appreciate that,” Rhoden says with a shake of his head. “I'll show you where we'll be sleeping,” he says, his voice dropping a notch as he moves past and I follow after, down a small hallway that branches off the living room. We pass a bathroom and another room, this one dark but humming with red heat lamps. When I peek inside, I see that it's full of reptiles. There are snakes, lizards, all sorts of stuff.

  Holy crap.

  I hurry after Rhoden and step into the room to find that there's already a fire going in the small fireplace, the blankets turned down, a fresh cut cluster of flowers on top of the single dresser.

  “This is like a bed and breakfast or something,” I say and Rhoden laughs.

  “This used to be my room,” he says and I notice then that the wall to my right is, in fact, painted with the words Big Dick. I choke back a laugh as I step over to the framed jerseys from Rhoden's college days, running my finger over the glass as I peer inside. Rhoden moves up behind me and slides his arms around my waist, breath warm against my ear. I can't help but shiver. This casual touching thing between us is new, and I like it. A lot. “What would you say if I invited you into the living room for a horror movie? My mom's obsessed with them. One warning though: she talks through the whole damn thing.”

  “I heard that!” Molly calls from the living room, but that just makes Rhoden chuckle warmly in my ear. “Get out here and add some wood to the fire. I shouldn't have to work with my big, strong son around. I've earned a break here.”

  “Come on.” Rhoden takes my hand and pulls me back into the living room. A pair of cats are waiting for us on the back of the leather sofa, one black and one white. They look like a yin yang, the way they're curled together like that. “Take a seat,” he tells me as I sit in the corner of the couch and Rhoden grabs a blanket off the back. “It's get chilly in here,” he says as he lays it over my lap and then leans in close, his mouth brushing against mine.

  Craparoni and cheese.

  Yep. I said it. Again.

  My lips purse tight against the tingling sensation as Molly watches me carefully and waits for her son to step outside to grab some more wood.

  “What do you think of my boy?” she asks me, like she genuinely wants to know. Molly kicks her boots off and sits on the couch across from me, sweeping some glossy chocolate hair over her shoulder. “I worked my butt off to make sure he turned out alright. I hope he's treating you okay?”

  “You know,” I say as I let myself settle into the couch and fend off a lick attack from LD. “At first, I kind of thought he was a dick.” I flush but Molly just smiles at me, so I continue. “But … now that I'm getting to know him better, he's kind of … precious?” It comes out unsure, and Rhoden's mother laughs at me.

  “Is that a question? You tell me, honey. He's not going to be my husband; I don't have to live with him for the rest of my life.”

  “Well, we … haven't exactly decided to make this official or anything yet.” Molly raises her brows at me as I fidget with the red and black checkered blanket in my lap. “What I mean to say is …” That phrase comes out of my mouth, but the thing is, I actually don't know what I mean to say. I feel the strange, new feelings for Rhoden bubbling up inside of me, but can't adequately seem to describe them—to myself or anyone else. “I guess what I mean to say is that I want him to fall in love with me.” Deep breath as I make eye contact with Molly. “And I think I'm falling in love with him.”

  The woman's lips curve back in a smile as I jump and realize that Rhoden's already halfway in the door, several pieces of wood tucked under his arm. When he sees me looking at him, he smiles, but I can't tell if he heard what I just said.

  God, I hope not.

  “Your mom really does like to talk through movies, huh?” I ask as I figure out how to change into my pajamas without Rhoden seeing. I mean, I could go into the bathroom, but then it'd be obvious that I was avoiding him and … well, fuck it.

  I make myself take a deep breath as I reach down and start to unbutton my dress. I said I'd try new things, scary things. This is definitely up there for me.

  “God,” Rhoden says as he swings his legs over to the side of the bed next to me. “Don't do it like that.” His hands watch my fingers as they move down the row of buttons.

  “What are you talking about?” I ask as I feel my skin getting hot. Maybe I really should've just gone in the bathroom? Why the hell is it so hard to change in
front of someone that I've already had sex with? This is dumb.

  “Like it's the most difficult thing you've ever done in your life.” Rhoden reaches out and takes my hips, pulling me to him and taking over the unbuttoning process. “You don't have to be embarrassed, Della.” Rhoden lets his mouth curve into that wicked slash of sex. “It's not like I haven't seen it all before.”

  “But this,” I say as he parts the front of the dress with his hands, fingers sliding hot and warm across my bare waist. “This isn't sex. We're not in the moment here and … God, I can't think when you're touching me like that.”

  “Della, I think you're beautiful.”

  “But a little fat,” I suggest as Rhoden rises to his feet and slips the dress off my shoulders. In the crackling firelight, his face is even more handsome. He looks wild, feral, like that lion I met at the masquerade party. Speaking of lions, a glimmer of light from the fire catches on something in my bag. I notice it, but I hope Rhoden doesn't. Oh, no you didn't! I think at Ariana and Hal.

  “Fat? I think you're soft and womanly and curvy, Della. I like what I see.” He touches the side of my face with his hand, runs his thumb down my lower lip. “And so should you.” Rhoden pauses as he notices the glittering coming from my bag. “Is that …”

  Before I can stop him, he's bending down and digging the pair of lion masks out of the duffel.

  Goddamn it, Ariana! I'm going to kill her and Hal when I get home. They must've slipped those in there when I wasn't paying attention. I bite my lower lip as Rhoden rises to his feet with a mask in each hand.

  A smirk crawls across his mouth as he hands one to me and then steps back, setting his on the bed so he can take his shirt off. When he turns his back to me, the firelight catches on the dark branches of his tattoo. My eyes follow the leaves as they swirl around in infinite stillness. Each one of those leaves represents a time when he didn't feel good enough, didn't feel like he could do it. But he did and look at him now, how far he got himself on nothing but his own strength and determination.

  I feel a small smile take over as I look down at the yellow-gold stones that make up the mask's fur.

  “Turn around,” Rhoden tells me as I glance up and find that he's already wearing his, the mane bright and orange and frothing around the upper part of his face. In the dim light of the fire, it looks twice as bright. This time, there's no music, no anonymity, just Rhoden and me in his old bedroom in the middle of nowhere.

  I am scared shitless.

  I put the mask up to my face and turn, shivering as he lines his warm body up with mine, lifting his big hands up and sliding his fingers along my arms, over the sensitive spots of my wrists, until he's got the leather straps in hand.

  Rhoden fastens them behind my head and then bends his lips to kiss the curve of my neck. My body reacts instantly, melting back into him, loving the fact that his chest and belly are already bare. I press my naked skin against him as he takes hold of my hips and bites gently down the side of my throat. Fingers dance up my waist and over to my bra, unhooking the clasps and then sliding it slowly over my arms. Each movement is practiced and sure, determined.

  Rhoden Richards knows exactly what he wants right now.

  I moan as I stare into the fireplace, savoring the texture of Rhoden's hands against my skin, the way his fingertips feel rough as they glide over my breasts, carefully tease and pinch my nipples.

  “This won't be difficult at all, so don't worry,” he tells me in my ear, turning me to face him, mask to mask.

  “What won't?” I ask, my heart pounding, body trembling as I raise my hands up and press them against Rhoden's chest.

  “Falling in love with you,” he tells me and my eyes go wide. Crap! He did hear me. Of course he did, because that's the luck of Della Garland, folks. Rhoden grins and then leans in to capture my mouth, tongue sliding slick and hot into me. When he pulls me down to the bed, I fall into him, straddling his lap in my panties, letting him tuck us up against the pillows and the headboard.

  Rhoden leans back, holding me to him as we kiss and grind our bodies together, the only sound the crackling of the fire and LD's snoring from the corner. It's a million times quieter out here than in the city, so much quieter that I feel like I can hear the sound of my own heart like a drum. It beats in my head as well as my chest, vibrating my body with emotion.

  I'm going to say something embarrassing, and I'm not going to be able to help myself. I just know it.

  Rhoden holds me close, the circle of his arms this warm, strong, safe space that I can't seem to get enough of. So much for him being a football dick. He's actually … kind of a nice guy.

  “I want to make love to you, Della,” he whispers against my mouth, turning us over so he can kiss and lick his way down to my panties, teasing the edges of the fabric with his tongue before he finally pulls them off. Rhoden pauses to peel his jeans off next and then lays back on the bed between my thighs. The edges of the mask brush against the sensitive skin of my legs as he kisses his way back to my hips, pausing with his mouth hovering over my belly. “I love that you're pregnant,” he tells me honestly, lifting his face up to look at me through the holes in the mask. “I wouldn't have wanted this to happen with any other woman.”

  “Stop that,” I say as he moves back between my legs and starts stimulating my clit with his tongue, drawing my hips up off the bed with the pleasure. Rhoden teases me mercilessly, using his fingers to amp up the intensity until I'm wound tight and ready to break.

  “I'm telling the truth, you know,” he says as he pauses and brings his golden body up over mine. I cup the skin of his face beneath the mask and look him directly in those whisky-honey eyes of his. Shit. I run my tongue over my swollen lower lip as Rhoden adjusts his position, pausing at my opening as he searches my eyes with his own. Here it goes; I can't stop it.

  “I love you, Rhoden,” I say and he smiles, pushing his bare body into mine. I wrap my legs around him, the dim light from the fire flickering across his skin, making the semiprecious stones on his mask glimmer. The old bed makes a slight creaking sound, the headboard hitting the wall with each motion of Rhoden's body, each contraction of those fabulous stomach muscles.

  I feel so much better after having finally admitted that I'm in love with this guy, that I'm in love with the father of my baby. Our baby. His baby.

  My head relaxes into the pillows as Rhoden moves slowly, drawing his hand down the side of my face and tilting my chin to look at him. He keeps our eyes locked as our bodies dance in the firelight. When I reach my hands up and undo the straps on his mask, he doesn't stop me. He waits until it's off and then pushes mine slowly up my face.

  “Can I tell you a secret?” he asks as I spread my legs wider and squeeze him tight between them, feeling the slightest prick of tears at the corners of my eyes. “I love you, too, Della Garland.”

  When I come that night, I feel like my body's breaking into molecules, disappearing into the atmosphere and sweeping me away to join the stars and the moon. But I don't let them stay away for long, no. I fall back into that bed with a gasp and a groan, pulling Rhoden tight to me, hugging his body into mine.

  We stay that way for the rest of the night.

  The next few weeks seem to go by in a blur. Walter doesn't contact me again which is great but which I'm not sure that I really believe, not in my heart of hearts. Rhoden lets me take him to Ariana's wedding and doesn't even mind that he has to take, like, a hundred pictures with the bride. After carefully studying my bridesmaid dress in the photos, I do indeed decide that I agree with Hal; we all looked like walking, talking penises.

  But that's okay.

  Because I, Della Garland, am in love. Eek!

  Ariana and Scottie don't exactly have the money for a honeymoon, so I lend them my apartment for the week after the wedding, certain that I'm going to have to steam clean/bleach the hell out of everything since my friends are probably doing it all over my furniture. Gross.

  The thing is, I don't need the apar
tment because I am staying with Rhoden.

  “I think your cat wants to murder my bunny,” I say as I watch the ginger tabby swishing his tail, yellow eyes focused on Wisdom like she's the pancake special at my favorite diner. Fantastic. “That's a naughty pussy,” I say as I push the cat away with my foot. Or I try to anyway. Apparently cats listen to me about as well as dogs. The tabby—whose name is Kid Curry, after the old west gunslinger—flops onto his side and mewls, batting at my bare toes with his paw.

  “Aw, he's got more bark than he does bite,” Rhoden says, scooping the cat into his arms where it instantly transforms into a purring, rubbing machine. “You'd be an angry pussy, too, if you were never getting stroked.”

  I raise my brows at the sexual innuendo and plant my hands on my hips, trying to pretend I'm not at all nervous for my ultrasound visit today. Nope. Not nervous at all.

  “I pet him,” I protest, but Rhoden just laughs at me, setting the cat on the back of the couch before stepping over next to me and taking my hand in his.

  “You're nervous,” he says and I raise an eyebrow at him. How a guy I've only known for a few months can get a read on me like this man does is astonishing. “Everything's going to be okay.”

  “You don't know that,” I say, my heart beating rapidly in my chest as Rhoden tilts his head to the side and raises his brows back at me.

  “I do. Because that baby is mine. That means she's strong as hell.”

  “She?” I ask. “You think it's a girl?”

  “I don't much care either way,” he tells me, running a hand down my back. The movement is soothing, calming in a way I never expected. Rhoden's still a showboating idiot on the field sometimes, but … like this, in private with me, he's … kind of the perfect guy.

  My perfect guy this time. Not my dad's or my stepmom's or my stepsisters'.

  Mine.

  “It's our baby, so it's exactly what I want, either way.”