DIRTY PLAYER: A Secret Baby Sports Romance

by Vesper Vaughn

  The backyard is quiet and steaming hot like the rest of the city. But there is ample shade cast by gnarled, low-to-the-ground oak trees. A glistening swimming pool beckons me with its blue shimmer. It’s all I can do to not jump in, clothes on.

  “Nice shack you have here,” I say, walking past the outdoor kitchen after Camille.

  “Yeah, my dad had pretty good taste,” she says. She stops near the pool. She’s wearing towering espadrille sandals with black ribbons snaking up her legs.

  I stand next to her.

  “So all of this is yours now?”

  She nods.

  “Pretty much.”

  I look back at the house.

  “Much quieter out here than in there.” I brush my tattooed forearm against her shoulder.

  “Don’t,” she whispers. “People will see.”

  “See what?” I ask her playfully. “There’s nothing for them to see. Unless your mind is going places…if that’s the case, I’ll go wherever you want me to go.”

  There’s that fire engine red color I’ve been looking for. Camille bends down and runs her hand through the water.

  “This is so tempting.”

  “You’re not kidding. I nearly ran over here to hop in.”

  Camille looks up at me with a smile.

  “We could go swimming.”

  “With our clothes on?”

  She stands up and puts a finger on my chest.

  “I was thinking clothes off, actually,” she says.

  I’m unbuttoning my shirt before she can even finish.

  “Don’t dare me to do anything, because I will do it. No matter what it is, I can promise you, I will do it.”

  Camille tilts her head in that sexy way I remember.

  “I’ll need help unzipping my dress when you’re done.”

  I trip over my pants getting them off. I’m down to my boxers. Camille is watching me intently.

  “I can’t believe we’re doing this at your dad’s funeral.”

  Camille shrugs.

  “Funeral is over. Besides that, Dad would hate this stuffy party. He liked to let loose more than you might suspect.”

  I pause before pulling my boxers down to my ankles. Camille’s eyes go to my cock and I realize it’s standing at attention.

  “You make me happy,” I say with a shrug.

  She turns around and I start to unzip the back of her dress. She turns her head back so her lips are near mine.

  “I was thinking,” she whispered. “That maybe after our swim we could head upstairs.”

  I pause, gobsmacked.

  “Your wish is my – AAAARGH!”

  In a flash of movements that only a trained super spy could pull off, Camille catches me off balance and trips me so I fall naked, headfirst into the pool.

  But the water feels so good. So very fucking good.

  I decide to save face by purposely kicking to the bottom of the pool, touching the rough white cement there with my fingertips before pushing off the bottom and bobbing above the pool.

  Camille is laughing hysterically, doubled over with glee.

  I take my moment. I swim to the edge of the pool and look up at her.

  “You think that’s funny?”

  She has tears of mirth streaming down her face.

  “Yes, yeah. Yeah, it is.”

  “I agree. You know what else is funny?”

  “What?” she chokes out.

  “Your shoes that you can barely walk in.” I grab her behind the knees and pull. She buckles and topples over me headfirst into the water, screaming the whole way down.

  She comes up for air, kicking at me.

  “You asshole!”

  But there’s a look of glee on her face that her words can’t deny.

  “You’re welcome. Now you’re nice and cooled off. And now we’re even.”

  Camille pauses and then bursts into pure laughter. I join her.

  We don’t hear the sliding doors open and the people walking outside.

  I look up to see Josh giving me a thumbs-up.

  “I didn’t know this was a pool party,” he says.

  He peers into the water.

  “Good temperature? Wait – are you naked?”

  The whole team bursts into laughter. Soon enough, suits are being pulled off and people are stripped to their boxers, diving into the enormous pool and splashing each other left and right.

  “Now this?” Camille says, hanging on to the side of the pool. “This is what my dad would call a proper party.”

  I swim close to her.

  “I can think of one thing that would make it even better.”

  She’s breathing heavily and it’s not from her treading water in six-inch platform shoes.

  “What’s that?”

  I lean close. She leans close.

  Our lips are almost touching before she splashes my face, getting chlorine water in my eyes.

  “Like I said before, in your dreams, Merriman.”

  She floats away from me into the crowd of bobbing heads with a smirk on her face.

  But I know her. This game isn’t over. Not by a long shot.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CAMILLE

  “Give me a kiss, baby girl,” I say to Hazel.

  She reaches up and kisses me on the cheek.

  “Be good for Eloise, okay?”

  “Yes, Mommy,” she replies.

  “You all ready to go?” Janet asks from the door.

  I look at my pile of Vera Bradley luggage.

  Janet eyes it with humor.

  “You have your pearls and ribbons and paisley like the good southern girl that you are?”

  I flip her the bird once I’m sure Hazel isn’t looking.

  Janet laughs uproariously.

  “There’s supposed to be six inches of snow up in Minneapolis tonight,” she says.

  “We’ll mostly just be in the hotel, right? I only have to get from the shuttle to the hotel.”

  Janet eyes my outfit: a sundress with tights and cowboy boots.

  “I’ve fallen right back into my Texan ‘never dress appropriately for cold weather’ thing, haven’t I?”

  Janet resumes her laughter.

  “Girl, you better hope they’ve shovelled the sidewalks up in Minnesota.”

  I grab my duffel bag, purse, and messenger bag with one hand on my rolling suitcase.

  “You know how hard it is to buy real winter clothing in Austin in November? You know how the stores are around here. Selling bikinis in January, God help you if you want to leave this state and go elsewhere.”

  Janet pats my shoulder as Eloise and Hazel wave goodbye to us.

  “Honey, this is Texas. Ain’t nowhere else to go as far as most of us are concerned.”

  We make it to the airport and the private jetway.

  “Too bad we’re not flying commercial. I really wanted to get some BBQ for the road.”

  “If we all went, we’d eat them out of their product for the day,” she says, nodding towards the team on the tarmac.

  I see Blake’s head and feel my stomach do a somersault. I’ve been avoiding him whenever possible all season. But now that the team is going on a retreat, well. There’ll be no getting away from him now.

  I get on the chartered team plane first, taking a seat over the wing. I hate flying. I open my messenger bag and pull out my laptop, eager to get to work on some spreadsheets that Janet gave me. I’m eyeballs-deep into numbers when I hear a deep voice from the aisle.

  “Is this seat taken?”

  Shit. It’s Blake.

  “Um, not…Janet was going to…” I glance around hurriedly and see that Janet’s taken her usual seat in the bulkhead.

  Team members are piling up behind him.

  “C’mon, dude, piss or get off the pot!”

  Blake grins and takes the seat next to me.

  “I was forced. No other choice.”

  “Mmhmm. Sure,” I say to him sarcastically.

 
He’s wearing a puffy winter coat and a knit cap on his head. He looks at my outfit.

  “You know it’s supposed to be twenty-eight degrees up there, right?”

  I glance down at my clothes sheepishly.

  “Yeah, this is the warmest my wardrobe gets to be honest.”

  He touches the thin fabric of my dress and I have to suppress a shiver of attraction. This goes double when, a second later, he’s leaning into my ear.

  “You’ll freeze those perfect tits of yours right off your body.” His breath is warm against my neck.

  Goosebumps.

  Everywhere.

  I move my head away from him and see that he’s grinning smugly at the effect he’s having on me.

  “Don’t worry, Boss. I’ve got a lot of plans to keep you warm this weekend.”

  “Would you keep it down?” I hiss. But nobody’s listening to us.

  I glance behind me and see that Josh is deeply engrossed in his headphones. He’s bobbing his head along in time with the music. Everyone else is talking loudly. The plane has the feeling of a school bus on the last day of school before summer break.

  Blake laughs.

  “As you wish, Ms. Sanders.” He puts a hand over his heart and holds up three fingers with the other. “I’ll be a Boy Scout the entire weekend. I promise.”

  I roll my eyes.

  “Not likely.”

  He glances at my computer.

  “Whew, that looks like absolutely no fun.”

  The flight attendants go up and down the aisles doing final safety checks.

  “Yeah, it’s not my favorite thing ever.” I squint at the screen and realize in my distraction I’ve forgotten to put on my reading glasses. “Can you do me a favor?”

  “Is it a sexual favor? Because the answer is absolutely yes.”

  I ignore this.

  “My purse is under the seat there. I need it.”

  The laptop is keeping me in place.

  Blake grins and dives under the seatback table. He pauses and brushes his bare fingers along my calf. There’s no way he doesn’t see the goosebumps that erupt there from his touch. He skims his fingers higher and I realize I’m breathing heavily. I close my eyes as his fingers go under my dress and against my inner thighs.

  “Ms. Sanders?”

  I jolt my eyes open as Blake returns to his upright position. The flight attendant is standing there. From the look on her face I think she said my name more than once.

  “Yes?”

  “Your seatback table needs to be in the upright and locked position, if you will. You can still have your laptop out, but the table needs to be locked for takeoff.”

  I cough and splutter, my neck and face still bright red from Blake touching me.

  “Of course. I’m sorry.”

  Blake says tsk tsk tsk and shakes his head.

  “You’ve been a naughty girl, Camille. Not following the rules.”

  I pause from folding up my table to punch him on the arm.

  “You know that was your fault.”

  He hands me my purse. I pull out my reading glasses and shove them on my nose, scowling at him.

  He laughs as he looks at me.

  “Oh, dear God. If I’d known I’d be sitting next to a sexy librarian for this whole flight, I wouldn’t have asked permission to sit here. I would have just done it.”

  I pull down the arm rest, knowing that underneath his sweater is a band of tattoos that turn me on like no other.

  “You stay on your side, and I’ll stay on mine, alright?”

  Blake salutes me.

  “Aye, aye, captain.”

  I pretend to be engrossed in my spreadsheet. But all I can really think about is how much I’d like to join the mile-high club with Blake on this flight.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  BLAKE

  I take an extra-long shower thinking of Camille the entire time. When I get out, I make myself look good for her.

  That's all that matters.

  Her. Even if she’s been avoiding me the last few months. This weekend will be different.

  I pull on a sweater and grab my snow coat. The sun has nearly set and the daylight I'm losing reminds me to hurry up.

  I call down to reception.

  "Yes, Mr. Merriman?" says a feminine voice.

  "I'm looking for Camille Sanders. I don't suppose there's any chance that you could give me her room number, is there?"

  "I can connect you via phone-"

  "I need to see her in person. It's a private matter, really urgent." More like my hardening dick is the urgent matter. Just thinking of Camille's name is getting me going.

  The woman sighs.

  "Alright but don't tell anyone about this. She's in room four twenty-one."

  "I owe you big time," I say, hanging up the phone and walking out of my room, a knitted cap over my head.

  I take the stairs, mostly to get my blood pumping.

  Even though what I really want more than anything is to get Camille's blood pumping.

  I make it upstairs and realize she's got the penthouse suite in this boutique hotel. The hotel is decked out in an enormous faux-log-cabin style. Stone fireplaces in each room, wooden log ends poking out of the wall. The carpet is a thick, rich hunter green wool and the beds are covered in woven plaid blankets.

  I take a deep breath and knock on Camille's door.

  "It's unlocked!" she yells back.

  I push the door open.

  "You really should lock it. God knows who they let into this hotel."

  Camille shrieks. She's sitting in a towel, her hair wet.

  "Surprise!" I say to her, a wry smile on my face.

  She crosses her arms.

  "I thought you were Janet."

  I laugh.

  "Do you wish I were Janet?"

  "I - uh. I'm naked, Blake. Go outside. Now."

  I hold up my hands in surrender.

  "Whatever you want, your majesty."

  I wait outside with my coat draped over my arm. Camille comes back to the door five minutes later, now wearing a fresh dress, tights, and boots like she did earlier in the day.

  "You're going to freeze with that wet hair," I say to her.

  She ignores this.

  "What do you want?"

  I check my watch.

  "I'm taking you into the city to get some actual winter clothes. We're having a snowball fight tonight and I think the whole team would like it if the boss lady joined in."

  Camille opens and shuts her mouth several times.

  "I can take myself shopping, thank you very much."

  I laugh.

  "Yeah, you can but you won’t. You’re more likely to be in here working. Besides that, I've already called for a car and you’re borrowing my coat. It’s all planned out.”

  "I am?"

  I nod.

  "You are. Get out here, it's getting dark already." Camille looks like she's going to protest but I shake my head. "The decision's been made. We'll be back here in time for dinner, I promise. You'll thank me later."

  Camille groans.

  "You are impossible, Blake Merriman. Do you realize that?"

  I shrug.

  "I've been told that a time or two in my life, I think." She slams the door in my face. "Grab a hat!"

  Ten minutes later, we're cozied up in the back of the Lincoln Towne Car I rented with a driver in the front seat.

  And by "cozied up" I mean Camille is sitting as far as possible from me.

  The snow is falling thickly now.

  "They say a blizzard's coming in tomorrow night," the driver says.

  "We'll be out of here by then," Camille says to him.

  "Aw, I'm sorry that you can't be here longer," the driver says. "Where are ya from?"

  "Texas," I say.

  "Oh, I bet the weather's nice down there this time of year."

  "I'd rather be in cold weather, actually," I say. "But that only makes one of us on this car ride."

  Cami
lle rolls her eyes.

  "Blake thinks I'm underdressed."

  "You are," the driver says. "No such thing as bad weather, only bad clothes."

  Camille harrumphs and crosses her arms, clearly not happy with being outnumbered.

  We pull up to the mall and I hop out. I'm freezing in only my wool sweater, but Camille looks happy in my coat. It's so big it falls to her knees.

  "You look good in my jacket," I whisper to her as we walk inside together. "I think you'd look good in my t-shirt, too."

  Camille blushes a little.

  "Let's get this over with," she says.

  I hold the door to the mall open for her.

  "Chivalry isn't dead after all," she says.

  "Finally, I've impressed you," I say with a smile. "What a wonderful fucking surprise that is."

  Camille laughs and we walk over to a department store bursting at the seams with women's clothes.

  "This way," Camille says, pointing at a section with dowdy flannel shirts and huge coats.

  "I was thinking this way, actually," I say, pointing over my shoulder.

  Camille peeks around me and blushes again.

  "You are not taking me lingerie shopping, Blake."

  "That's alright. I'm only in it for the fashion show anyway. You do the shopping. I do the unwrapping."

  Camille punches my arm but there's no real energy behind it.

  "You are insufferable."

  "I'm only here to give you a hard time, Camille," I say.

  "You're doing a hell of a job, then."

  I don't manage to get her into anything lacy, but she does acquiesce enough to let me pick out a hat, scarf, and gloves to go with the puffy, overlarge coat, snow pants and boots she grabs. It's bottle green and brings out her eyes magnificently.

  "Well, I look like the abominable snowman," Camille says after the clerk snips the tags and we walk out of the store, Camille covered in flannel, feathers, and waterproof nylon.

  "You're the sexiest snowman I've ever seen, then," I say to her.

  She turns on her heel and looks at me.

  "This? This thing you're doing? It's not happening. It's never, ever going to happen."

  I take a step closer to her. She's trapped against the wall.

  "But you want it to happen. Say it."

  Camille's eyes go wide, and her breathing goes shallow.

  "We can't, Blake. I'm your boss."

  "Say it."

  She closes her eyes and whispers under her breath.