ROMANCE: BAD BOY ROMANCE: M.V.B. - Most Valuable Baby (Sports Secret Baby Romance) (Contemporary Interracial Pregnancy Romance)

by Lexi Ward

  “I’m half-naked and you’re fully clothed.”

  Dean smirked sexily, in a way that made her even more impossibly horny than she was before, and he pulled off his t-shirt in one quick movement, revealing an expanse of muscles and skin.

  Khela took the opportunity to change positions, getting up and shoving Dean down so he was sitting on the car seat. Straddling his lap, she settled herself so that the hardness in his pants was exactly where she wanted it to be. Dean grabbed her face in his hands, pulling her in for another deep, passionate kiss, and she began to grind against him. Both groaned at the delicious friction, and the fabric of his jeans was rough but delightful against her bare sex.

  “How long have you wanted this?” Dean whispered into her mouth as he moved his hips to meet hers.

  “Forever,” Khela breathed truthfully, and Dean moaned at her confession. He tore his lips from hers and turned his attention to her breasts. Dean sucked hungrily at one nipple, his finger rolling and tugging and pinching at the other, then dragged his tongue across the valley of her chest and reversing his mouth and fingers. Khela writhed against his ministrations, wanton cries falling from her lips. Her hands trailed down to his jeans, unbuttoning the fly and pulling down the zipper, then pushing down his boxers as far as she could to reveal his cock.

  Dean took the hint. He slid down his pants and boxers farther to give himself more room, and then lifted Khela’s hips. In one fluid motion, he thrust into her, filling her in a hard movement that had her screaming his name. He didn’t give her any time to adjust to his size, instead bucking his hips and pushing more and more into her, and Khela was so full, more full than she could ever remember being. It was too much and too little at the same time.

  “More!” Khela begged, desperate for him to fuck her brutally, and he obliged, moving in and out of her with the strength of an athlete. Khela bounced up and down on his lap and he continued to slam into her with enough force to make her cry out eagerly. There was no grace in their movements, all restraints had been pulled back. His hands and mouth were everywhere, and her fingers were moving over his body as she rode him.

  “Fuck, yes, yes, yes, yes,” she gasped, each syllable escaping in time with his thrusts, only serving to fuel his movements and he began to go harder and rougher, setting a pace so brutal she wasn’t sure she could keep up. Her nails were digging into his shoulders, sure to leave marks for tomorrow. He rolled his hips continuously into her, showing no signs of slowing down or relenting, but Khela could feel his rhythm becoming less uniform, more hurried and frantic.

  “Ms. Caldwell,” he moaned.

  “Khela,” Khela corrected him.

  Dean stared straight into her eyes, his powerful thrusts moving harder and harder until Khela was screaming almost too loudly to see anything but stars, and then he whispered huskily, “Khela.”

  The sound of her name rolling of his tongue like silk, combined with the repeated movements of his big, hard cock inside her pushed Khela over the edge. All the sensations on her tingling skin melded together, and then she was clenching around him and crying out louder than she ever had. It sent Dean off the edge, too, and he thrust into her one final time, and her eyes rolled into the back of her head as he filled her up, heat flooding her insides.

  It took Khela a while to catch her breath and come back down to reality. When she did, it was to the sensation of Dean tenderly stroking her hair.

  “Come home with me,” she whispered. It wasn’t a question.

  “Absolutely,” Dean replied.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  It was probably the best night Dean had ever had. Khela took him to her house, and they fucked repeatedly, over and over, on various surfaces – the floor, the sofa, the table, and finally the bed – until they collapsed from exhaustion.

  Dean woke up first the next morning. Thankfully, it was the weekend. Khela was lying next to him; eyes closed and still fast asleep, like an angel. She was the most beautiful woman Dean had ever seen; there was no doubt about that. Perhaps he should wake her up with a kiss, or maybe with a little something special…

  Dean’s stomach rumbled loudly, interrupting his thoughts of early morning sex. He wondered if he would be able to navigate the house well enough to find the kitchen and cook up some breakfast in bed for the pair of them. Quietly, he shuffled out of the bedroom and made his way down the stairs.

  The kitchen was easy enough to locate, but the bread wasn’t anywhere in the kitchen. He made his way to the dining table in order to search for it.

  As he briefly scanned the wooden surface, his gaze fell upon a very thin blue file. Curiosity overcame him. It probably wouldn’t be right to snoop, but the file was labelled “Fielderton University”, and that was one of the Scorpions main competitors. Did she used to work for them?

  Against his better judgement, Dean picked the file up and flipped it open. Inside it was a pink card that read “Notice of Employment Termination”. So it was true. Khela had gotten fired from her previous job. But why? The handwriting was too difficult for Dean to make out.

  There was a newspaper clipping inside the file as well. It read: “Coach Fired for Assaulting Players”. There was a picture of a sturdily built man glaring at the camera while descending some stairs. In the corner of the photograph was a smaller image, a passport-sized photo of Khela.

  The last item in the file was a formal letter of termination. It was typed out on fancy, hard paper, as though the issuing company thought flowering up the document would make the bitter “you’re fired” pill any easier to swallow. Dean picked it up and began to read it.

  Before he could get very far, an angry voice was shouting behind him. “What are you doing?”

  Dean froze in shock, and then spun around. It was Khela. He was fucked.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Whatever Khela had expected when she woke up to find Dean out of bed, it certainly wasn’t this. Maybe he’d used her for a one night stand – which she originally had gone to the bar looking for anyway – or maybe he’d gone to the bathroom, or maybe he’d robbed her of all her possessions. It was none of those things, but she would have preferred any of that over this.

  “Why are you reading that?” Khela half-shouted. Rage was pulsing through her, caused by her embarrassment and the feeling of betrayal that roared through her body.

  Dean quickly dropped the file he was holding back onto the table. “It was out in the open, it caught my eye.”

  “How dare you snoop around in here?” Khela snapped. She marched towards him, grabbed the file off the table, and marched away again, hugging the document protectively to her chest. “You think that, just because I let you into my house and I let you between my legs, you have the right to help yourself to my life story?”

  Dean shook his head. “Of course not. I’m sorry,” he said.

  “You boys are all the same, aren’t you?” Khela hissed.

  “Khela –”

  “It’s Ms. Caldwell to you, Mr. Williams!” Khela snapped. “Get your clothes and get out of my house. Now!”

  Dean opened his mouth, closed it again, and opened it once more. “I just want to help. I want to know what’s happened. What’s in those files could affect my team.”

  “All you care about is your team,” Khela said coldly. “Not the life of the person who has to overlook it.”

  “You have it wrong,” Dean said. “You have it all wrong.” He folded his arms. “I saw the pink slip in there, Ms. Caldwell. The little newspaper clipping about you getting fired.”

  “It is none of your business, Mr. Williams,” Khela replied angrily.

  “I know,” Dean said. “But what you have to understand, Ms. Caldwell, is that I don’t want this thing between us – what happened last night, and everything – to be a one-time thing. And I’m telling you now, what I have to guess from that newspaper clip doesn’t make this easy.”

  “What are you insinuating?” Khela asked, voice becoming louder. Panic was forming in her chest. He
was saying he wanted something more than just a one-night stand from her – something she had not even considered – and at the same time, was suggesting that her past might change that.

  “I mean that I need your word that even if you’re not comfortable enough to talk about this now,” Dean began, “that we’re going to be able to discuss it in the future.”

  Khela sighed. At once, all her energy and anger deflated. She was tired. So, so fucking tired.

  “Okay, big shot, you want to know the story?” she said. “I used to be director at a different college. Did a real good job, too. I was very hands-on. Knew all my players by name, hung out with them, spoke to them about their lives and mine, and treated them like my own friends. Bet that’s not something you would’ve guessed.”

  “No,” Dean agreed. But he was listening.

  “The coach for the football team was a big, tough, ex-army guy. Real strong and strict, but kept the boys in line,” Khela went on. “Then I found out he was using too much force.”

  Dean’s brow was furrowed, his concern showing clearly on his face. Khela found this encouraging.

  “If he thought one of them wasn’t doing well enough, he would take them aside somewhere private for a talk and hit them really hard. Sometimes he’d beat them up pretty bad.” Khela shuddered at the memory. “I had players showing up with black eyes and bruises, and they all said they’d gotten them from practice.” She averted her gaze from Dean to the floor. “I believed them, for a while, and then someone’s ribs got broken.”

  “That’s…” Dean trailed off. “That’s terrible.”

  “I tried to report it, but I was one of the only female African-American Athletic Directors in the entire country,” Khela said. “They wouldn’t believe me. Said I was being paranoid, put me down a lot. When I finally gathered enough evidence to prove it, it was months later. The coach got fired, which is great, but then so did I.”

  “That’s fucking stupid!” Dean exclaimed. “You were doing the right thing!”

  “It’s not unusual for Athletic Directors to get fired along with coaches who are real whack-jobs,” Khela replied. She was even more tired now than when they’d started. “I lost my job. And I know I wouldn’t have lost it if I hadn’t been so close to those kids. If I didn’t know them that well, I would be objective enough to not believe them when they talked about practice injuries. I would have known from the beginning, and maybe I could have proved it sooner or stopped it, saved my job maybe.” Khela shrugged.

  Suddenly, Khela found herself embraced in Dean’s large, strong arms. She resisted at first, hating that he thought she needed a hug, but then melted into him easily. For some reason, telling him about what had happened had lifted something off of her. It was like the burden she had been carrying around with her just vanished, dematerialized.

  “It wasn’t your fault about those kids,” Dean said.

  “I know,” Khela sighed. “Just wish I could have helped them.”

  Dean nodded and kissed her hair. “You did all you could, Ms. Caldwell.”

  “It’s Khela.”

  “Right. Khela.”

  “We’ll probably have to keep this a secret, you know.”

  “I’m graduating soon,” Dean replied. “Not too long for us to keep it.”

  “I suppose not,” Khela admitted.

  Dean leaned down to kiss her, threading his fingers through his hair. A familiar excitement bubbled up within Khela as her lips danced with his.

  As Dean lay her down on the table where he’d first picked up the file, Khela closed her eyes, and the world dissolved around them.

  CHAPTER NINE

  It was just a few minutes before the first game of the season. The Scorpions huddled together in their locker room, waiting for Coach Dennison’s pep talk.

  Dean sat in the middle of a bench, surrounded by his team mates. If anyone noticed the glow about him that had started since their night out at the bar, no one mentioned it. If anyone had, Dean would have denied it anyway.

  “Alright, Scorpions!” Coach shouted, and everyone looked up to pay attention. “I know what ya’ll are expecting, a big talk from me! But you’re not gonna get it!”

  Confused, Dean exchanged glances with some of the others.

  “At least, not from me,” Coach said. “Our own Athletic Director would like to say a few words instead.”

  Dean felt his whole body light up at that statement, and Khela Caldwell stepped out from behind a locker.

  “First of all,” Khela said. “I know I’m in a boy’s locker room. If you don’t tell, I won’t.”

  The Scorpions laughed, many of them still amazed that she was here, speaking to them right now.

  “Now, on to the serious stuff,” she went on. “What I want to see out there today is 110%! And I know you’ve heard all of this before, so I’m going to cut the shit. It is not going to be easy, boys. It is going to be hard. You are going to sweat, be in pain, and push yourself to the limits of your body. You might want to quit halfway through. You might mess up the first play. It will not be easy. You are going to doubt yourself. You are going to wonder what you are doing on that field.

  “Remember, we chose you to be there. You are our team. 110% is not easy, it is asking for everything and more. And that is what I want to see out there! I want to see you pushing yourself. I want to see everything that you have got! This is no longer practice, boys, you aren’t saving your best games for later. From start to finish, you give it that 110%, and I’ll give you 120% of my support, and whatever the outcome of the game is, we will be proud of you!”

  The Scorpions were beginning to cheer. Dean loved every moment of this.

  “Gentlemen,” Khela smiled. “The best athletes in the world give their 110% at every single game they play. It’s time to join their ranks.”

  The Scorpions erupted into almost chaotic cheers. Hyped up and excited, they jumped off of their seats, grabbing what they needed. Dean smiled and cheered along with the rest of his team, and they began to run off into the field. But before they did, Dean stole one last glance at Khela, the formidable, amazing woman he was eager to spend his time on. She gave him a secret little smile, filling him with hope and happiness.

  Whether they won or lost this game – though he knew they would win – he knew his night plans with Khela would serve as the perfect celebration or consolation, which ever it was.

  And now, he had someone else to play for aside from himself and his team. He had Khela to impress, and boy, was he going to blow her away.

  *****

  THE END

  Tackled by the Tight End

  Brian was ready for the big game that night. It was all he could think about. As he brushed his teeth, packed a lunch, and made sure he had all of his books in his backpack, winning was the only thing on his mind. Iowa State University was his school, and the Falcons were his team. Ames, the small railroad town turned academic enclave where he lived and went to school, didn't have much else going for it. After the railroads had fallen out of use years ago, the university…and the money its students brought, became the lifeblood of the small town. A lifeblood that could be seen throbbing in the stands under the Friday night lights at every home football game.

  Brian puffed out his chest a little when he got on the bus. Coach had been getting on everyone about posture in public. He said he didn't like the way the team walked around with their hands in their pockets, eyes on the ground, pants sagging. Coach had really come down on them all about the pants thing. He said the sagging, combined with their bad posture, made them look like losers. They weren't losers, though; in fact they were undoubtedly winners. They had gone undefeated last year, and they were set to do it again this year. Coach had said the rest of the school wasn't doing so well, with professors being dismissed due to budget cuts, and there was talk that the cuts might even affect the football team.

  Brian had to have pride because the rest of the school needed it. The rest of the school wasn't tall like
him, they didn't have a physique that looked as if it were chiselled from granite. Most of the people who went to ISU were overweight from eating quick meals of processed food. No one had time to work a job, go to school, and eat healthy. The sleep deprived look of everyone on the bus reminded Brian of how tired he was. A bone tiredness that seemed to soak through him, starting at his fingertips, moving through his arms, then all the way down to his toes — he was exhausted. Brian cracked his energy drink open and took a big gulp. There wasn't anything he could do but press on. The team needed him, Coach needed him, the school needed him…the pressure really was intense.

  By the time Brian made it off the bus and into his first period class he'd forgotten about all of his early-morning ruminations. His first period wasn't his hardest, but it was one that really mattered. It was Spanish, and if he didn't get at least a B then his father was going to kill him. Brian's old man wasn't one to mince words, and he'd told Brian exactly how he felt when Brian had decided to join the ISU team.