Hit Hard: A Bad Boy Sports Romance (Athletic Affairs)

by April Fire

  I slid my hands over his back, trying to ignore the nagging part of my brain that told me this was a bad idea. Weren’t bad ideas like this secretly really fucking sexy? I had never done the forbidden thing before, and I couldn’t believe how hot it was. He moved his head up to kiss me hard, and I grabbed his face and pulled him closer. His stubble was rough against the pads of my fingers, as I caressed up his jaw and behind his head. I loved the weight of him on top of me, loved that I could feel the strength in his body as I trailed my fingers down his arms.

  We were already naked, and I could feel his erection pressing hard into my thigh. I was about to shift my body slightly so he could enter me and we could finally get what we both wanted, but then I remembered: condoms.

  “Have you got a-?” I asked, and he leaned off of me to grab the packet from his jean’s pocket. He pulled it out and dangled it in front of me tantalizingly, and then stuck it on the bedside table.

  “I’m not done with you yet,” he murmured, leaning down once again, but this time, he started working his way down my body, kissing my neck, running his teeth over my nipples, and finally grazing down my stomach until he was kneeling between my legs. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him, staring intently as he parted my thighs in one gentle motion. He looked up at me, a small smile playing at the corner of his lips, and then began to lower his mouth towards me. He took his time, making sure that I could feel the heat of his breath on my skin before he so much as touched me. I squirmed below him, silently urging him to go faster and get there quicker. But, as soon as he did, it became clear that it was worth the wait.

  He sealed his lips around my clit and began to suck lightly, sending spasms of pleasure across my lower body. I closed my eyes and let my head fall back, my mouth falling open slightly as he ever-so-lightly flicked his tongue out against my clit. It was almost too good, my pussy too sensitive to his touch,even better than the night before, with both of us sober and in control and-

  My brain rattled to a halt as he moved to gently suck on my pussy lips, my body arcing up in response to his touch. Fuck. He moaned slightly, sending vibrations across my skin, and another shock of arousal through my system. I had never been with a guy who actually seemed to enjoy going down on me, and it was an edifying experience. He buried his face into my pussy, tasting every inch of me, running his tongue around my inner lips and across my slit, taking his sweet time. I ran my hands through his hair and gripped lightly, scratching my nails over his scalp to silently confirm to him that yes, this was working, and yes, I wanted more.

  He returned his attention to my clit, and slowly pushed a finger inside of me as he did so; he moved slowly within me, turning his finger this way and that as if getting to know every part of me. My hips lifted off the bed, practically of their own accord, and I let out a small moan; I was soaked, my pussy throbbing as I grew closer and closer to coming. But I didn’t want to--at least, not yet.

  “Fuck me?” I asked, managing to prop myself up on my elbows to look down at him. The words almost didn’t make it out of my mouth once I laid eyes on him, his gorgeous face between my legs- but I knew I wanted to come with him inside of me. He pulled his head back, mouth glistening with my juices, and smiled broadly.

  “Whatever you want,” he climbed back on top of me and kissed me once again, so I could taste myself on him; it was curiously erotic in a way it had never been with my other partners. Maybe because it didn’t seem like any of them were enjoying themselves half as much as him. He reached for the condom and sheathed himself quickly, before taking one of my legs and draping it over his shoulder. He kissed the sensitive spot on the inside of my knee as he positioned himself at my entrance and then, in one swift motion, pushed himself inside of me.

  “Fuck!” I gasped, reaching up to grip his arms as he thrust almost his entire length into me in one swift motion.

  “You okay?” he panted, and I nodded. It was just a shock to the system, how good he felt-I almost came right there and then. But he slowed down, took his time, and began to fuck me, allowing me to get used to the sensation. I wrapped my legs around his waist and pulled him down on to me, so I could inhale his scent as we screwed. I sank my nails into his back and raked them across his skin, eliciting a small moan for my troubles. I wasn’t sure how long we were like that. It could have been a few minutes, could have been an hour, but I could have gone all night. I lifted my hips to meet his thrusts, and savored the way he felt buried inside me up to the hilt. I couldn’t believe I’d almost talked myself out of this only this morning. To think, if we’d stuck to our guns, none of this might have happened.

  He flipped me on top of him, as we had been in the car, and I sat up straight, placing my hands on his chest to balance myself. Fuck, he looked good--gripping my hips, he guided me up and down on top of him. I ground my hips down as far I could, forcing him inside of me, and watched as his face contorted with pleasure. I loved getting that reaction out of him, loved seeing him practically speechless from how good I felt, and suddenly, I realized I was on the brink of coming. The sight of him like that had, apparently, been enough, and I slipped my hands between my legs and stroked my clit a few times, coaxing myself over the edge. I closed my eyes, my nails tensing against his skin, focusing in on the only thing I wanted in that moment,and then, finally, I came.

  And, my God, was it worth the wait. I shuddered on top of him, my shoulders hunching and shivering and my thighs tensing as my orgasm shuddered through my body. A few seconds later, I felt his fingers tighten against my skin, and his cock flex and twitch inside of me as he reached his own climax. Exhausted, I lay down on top of him, and we kissed once again. He was still inside me, and I could feel his cock slowly growing still as our tongues met lazily. Then, I drew myself off of him, rolled to the side, and shot him a coy look.

  “So, that’s that rule broken,” I remarked, and he turned to look at me with a smile.

  10

  SAM

  “Yeah, I guess so,” I replied. She looked so gorgeous, lying next to me on the bed like that, her hair was messy, her cheeks flushed, her eyes at the same time bright and totally relaxed.

  “I don’t think I mind too much,” she admitted playfully, and I nodded, turning to lie on my back and stare at the ceiling.

  “Yeah, I think we can let it slide for now.”

  There was a pause, and she propped herself up on her elbows and looked at me with a smile on her face. After a second or so, I met her gaze.

  “What is it?” I demanded, letting one hand fall lazily on her lower back, just after her perfect ass. It was tempting to let my fingers roam further, but I fought the urge. I didn’t want to be sore for training tomorrow.

  “You’ve not got out of answering those questions, you know,” she commented. I furrowed my brow.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I know why you kissed me back there,” she nodded over her shoulder, in the direction of the coffee shop. “You didn’t want to have to think about any of the stuff I was asking you about.”

  “Uh, that wasn’t it,” I sat up, pulling my hand back from her. What kind of bullshit pillow talk was this? Did she really think this is what I wanted to be talking about right now?

  “It’s cool if it was,” her eyes glinted with amusement. “Maybe I should ask you more tough questions, let you distract me again.”

  “Maybe I just don’t want to tell you everything about my life, knowing you’re going to go print it in your magazine as soon as you get the chance,” I muttered, and swung my legs out of bed. I started grabbing my clothes and getting dressed, and Emily sat up, her brow furrowed.

  “Hey, I was just kidding,” she protested, but I didn’t want to hear it.

  “Whatever,” I snapped. “I should probably go.”

  “I don’t mind if you stay the night,” she offered, but I shook my head, already checking in my pocket for my car keys.

  “I should get home,” I muttered. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “See you
tomorrow, I guess,” Emily replied, and I could hear the surprise and annoyance in her voice. I ignored it, opened the door, and headed out onto the street.

  As soon as I got to my car, I grabbed the wheel and stared down at my hands. What the hell had I been thinking, coming here? How the hell did I think this was going to end? I mean, she was cool. I liked her well enough, and I couldn’t deny that we had insane chemistry. But she was...there for a reason, and it wasn’t just because of me. She had a story to come up with, characters to create, and every minute we spent together, she was likely doing that inside her head. It was an off-putting thought, one that I did my best to put to the back of my mind whenever I could. But the way she spoke to me then…as though she had a grip on me and was proud of it. Maybe I was so put out because I knew she was right, and the thought of someone who barely knew me getting me in that way was scary. Or maybe it was just because I didn’t want another person examining my motivations and my reasoning and everything that came with it. I just wanted to be left alone. Was that so much to ask? Apparently so.

  I drove fast all the way back to my apartment, glad that there was no one else on the roads for me to piss off. I wondered how fast the gossip would have spread about this night, about the kiss we shared in the coffee shop, about us staggering back to her apartment with our hands all over each other. Had she only done it in the hopes of getting something for her story? An image of her on top of me, coming, flashed through my brain. No, you couldn’t fake that kind of slack-jawed, eye-rolling pleasure, no matter how dedicated a journalist you were. There was something between us, it was just all messed up in a pile of motivations that neither of us seemed to be able to sort out.

  So, what now? I would have to avoid her. I didn’t want anything more to do with her beyond what was required from me. I would give her everything she needed to write the story, and that would be the end of that. I wasn’t required to do anything beyond being precisely pleasant to her and nothing more, and that’s what I would do. Johnson likely wouldn’t be too happy with me. He said I had trouble keeping it in my pants at the best of times, and he was probably right, but he would have to deal with it. Besides, I was done. No more Emily for me, no more anything. Because she seemed to understand me too vividly, maybe just as a character in her story, but it was still unnerving, and I didn’t like how close she felt to me. How much she seemed to know me. And how she already had some kind of opinion on what I should be doing with my future.

  I found myself driving out of town, even though it was already late and I should have been heading back to my apartment to get a good night’s sleep; I wasn’t even thinking when I took the left and turned down the road towards the spot by the river I used to go to in high school. Before I knew it, I was there,next to the bridge, the old rocks we used to hang out on still there even after all this time. I climbed out of the car and looked around, as if I half-expected a bunch of teens smuggling a covert six-pack to appear at any second. But nothing. It was just me, here down by the river, alone. The only sound once I turned my engine off was that of the river trickling quietly below me. I scrambled down the bank, sat myself down in the spot I’d had my first beer at, and looked down at the water below me, trying to calm myself.

  Could I really leave this place behind? If I left, all this--all these memories--wouldn’t be just a car ride out of town. They would be half a country away. None of this would be easy to come to. I would have to make an effort to see my parents, my friends, my old teammates. And I would have to start over. That was the scariest part. Everyone knew me here. Going out to Philadelphia, everything would start over again. I would have to prove myself, have to make myself known once more.

  And what if I failed? There was no guarantee that it wouldn’t happen. That was what struck fear into me the most If I left all this behind, it would be to great fanfare. There would be no sneaking out in the middle of the night, no getting away without people noticing. Everyone would wish me the best, and what if I couldn’t deliver on that? What if I had to come slinking back a few months later having completely fucked it up? What if I simply wasn’t good enough? I was good enough for the Crows, but there was nothing to guarantee that that would carry over to the big leagues.

  I dragged myself back to my feet and let out a sigh. Part of me, most of me, wished that I’d never gotten this chance in the first place, that coach had just dismissed the agent and told him to forget it, I never would have had to make this decision. Yeah, I would have missed out on the chance to get out of here, but I would have been able to avoid everything that came with the choice.

  I made my way back over to the car, climbed in, and sat behind the wheel for a few minutes. I wasn’t sure how long I was sitting there; I didn’t really care. It was the first time that I had really given the decision any thought. Up until then, I had been hiding it from people, keeping it to myself, ignoring the fact that it even existed. But now that it was out there, now that Emily knew about it, I had people to be accountable to. And that was…off-putting. I could feel the pressure pushing down on my shoulders, so hard that it ached. Because there was no way to ignore this, and I honestly had no idea what I was meant to do.

  As I began to drive, I thought back to when I made a decision about going to college, or not, in my case. And, well, how it hadn’t felt like a decision at all, because there was only one answer to that question for me. It was easy, obvious. But what were you meant to do when you had pros and cons on both sides of the equation? Why wasn’t there an answer that revealed itself to me? I felt like, by now, I should know either way, but I still had one foot in the Crows and one foot in the Soars.

  I arrived back at my apartment and headed up to my bedroom, going slow so I didn’t wake anyone up. It was late by the time I crawled into bed, too late, but I didn’t care. I knew I wouldn’t be sleeping tonight anyway.

  11

  EMILY

  It had been a full week since that night at my apartment, and Sam had barely made eye contact with me this entire time. I sat in the stands, holding my Dictaphone, and sighed as I watched the team run drills. I just didn’t understand what I’d done.

  I’d managed to get the rest of the team in for interviews, and all of them had given me a little something to work off of. Jeremy had a wife and kid he kept hidden from everyone else because he didn’t want them to see him as uncool or out of touch, but he was happy for me to write about them, because he wanted the world to know about them. When I asked if he knew the story would be available to the team as well, he shrugged.

  “Like they’ll read it,” he replied with a small grin, and then glanced around the room. “Is it okay if I go now?”

  “Sure,” I nodded, and watched him walk out the door. His words were ringing in my ears Would none of the team be interested in this at all? Surely, this would be a break for them, a chance for them to get their message out to the world, a chance for them to share themselves with the rest of the hockey-playing community. But, if Jeremy was right, then that gave me a way in to Sam’s story. Because I was pretty sure most his panic came from the possibility that people might judge him for the choice he did or didn’t make, especially his teammates.

  I had been hounding him for another interview since we slept together last, but he had turned me down every time. Told me that he would let me know when he was free next. But I knew he was brushing me off, knew he was just getting rid of me the best way he knew how. Johnson frowned with dissatisfaction every time Sam turned me down, and mouthed an apology at me. I knew he was having trouble figuring out why he was being such a dick. I guessed that he didn’t know what I knew about the situation, and that if he did, he might be a bit less accommodating.

  I couldn’t get Sam out of my head, but the reasons why were all messed up in my head. I wanted to get the story, and I knew I didn’t have enough for it yet. And I felt for him on a personal level, because he was making a seriously hard decision that had no real easy answer. Plus, of course, I couldn’t deny that I was kind of fal
ling for him.

  Yeah, it was high school, but I found myself attracted to him the more he avoided me. We’d only hooked up twice, but each incidence had been fucking incredible, and I was desperately trying to come up with ways to get him back into my bed. I knew that wouldn’t happen any time soon, but I found myself plotting ways that I could both get my hands on the story and on him a few more times before I left.

  Leaving. That was something I’d rather not think about if I had the choice. I had only been here about ten days, but I found myself growing comfortable in Kingstown. It was a strange little place, odd and tiny. Even now, after only a few days, I found myself getting cheerfully greeted in the coffee shop down the street from me and chatted to by the regulars. I was a novelty to them, and they were a novelty to me. It had been a long time since I’d lived anywhere but a city, and I had to admit I could get used to the camaraderie and community in a place like this. And not just because Sam was in it.

  As the training drew to a close, I got to my feet and hurried around to intercept the team before they could all vanish into their lockers.

  “Sam!” I called after him, pushing my way through the other players. Even in the armor and under the helmet, I recognized him. He stopped dead in his tracks, and raised his head to make eye contact with Johnson. Johnson was leaned up on the edge of the lockers, and he nodded, raising his eyebrows. It was obvious that he was silently communicating how much he wanted Sam to talk to me. Johnson, being the coach, was certainly the most conscious about how his team came across, and the last thing he wanted was for his star player to come across like a giant asshole. Sam’s shoulders sagged, and he turned and pulled off his helmet, making his way towards me.