Blitzed by the Brit: A Secret Baby Sports Romance

by Jessica Ashe

  “Sounds great,” Ellie said.

  “I suppose,” Dani said disappointedly.

  “Do I get any say in this?” I asked. Ellie and Dani both stared at me like I was mad. I realized they were probably right. Why was I fighting this? I was being contrarian for the sake of it. If Ellie and Dani had told me George was a jerk, I’d be all over him like a rash.

  “Uh, you ladies discuss it,” George said. He was looking towards the far end of the bar where the three men were now standing. It looked like they were talking to some new victims, but I couldn’t see because of a pillar in the way. “I’ll be right back.”

  George walked towards the group while the barmaid poured us each a double measure of whiskey from the top shelf. It looked like liquid money. Like $100 bills—or £50 notes I suppose—melted down and poured into a glass.

  It smelled like success.

  It tasted like… like fire.

  “Holy shit,” I coughed, after taking a sip. “This stuff is strong.”

  “People drink this for pleasure?” Ellie asked after taking a sip herself.

  “I like it,” Dani said, despite cringing when she took a sip. “It tastes like money. Speaking of which…”

  “Yeah, what the hell is the deal with this George guy?” Ellie asked.

  “I should be asking you,” I replied. “I assume his appearance here is not a coincidence?”

  “Well, no, but I didn’t know you guys were that close already.”

  “We’re not,” I insisted. “That was just… I don’t know what that was.”

  “That was the prelude to a lot of hot sex,” Dani insisted.

  “It was just a kiss,” I said.

  The best kiss I’d had since coming to England. I cast my mind back to other first kisses I’d had in America, but there hadn’t been any like that. Not even close.

  “That wasn’t just a kiss,” Ellie said. “I’ve seen you kiss guys before, and it doesn’t look like that.”

  “I didn’t know you paid such close attention to my technique.”

  Ellie shrugged and took another sip of her whiskey, even though she still clearly hated the taste. “There wasn’t much technique that time. You looked like a fish out of water.”

  “He took me by surprise,” I said defensively.

  “Well now you’ve had time to prepare, so you can up your game. Stop being so cold around him.”

  “She’s right,” Dani said. “You’re always complaining about your bad luck with guys. Well a winning lottery ticket has just fallen into your lap. Don’t rip it up and throw it away. Cash that baby in for a lifetime’s supply of earth-shattering orgasms. Tax free.”

  And that there was the problem. Dani was right. I had been complaining a lot, and George was exactly what I wanted, in all ways but one. There was no “lifetime supply” with guys like George. One night was all I would get. I should go for it anyway. Unless I figured a way out of this visa mess, I wouldn’t be in England much longer. I might as well have some fun. He might look and sound like Prince Charming, but he’d be gone in the morning, and I’d be more like Cinderella, which I guess made Ellie and Dani—

  “What’s going on over there?” Ellie said, pointing to the men who’d been chatting us up earlier.

  The three men had surrounded George, and they looked pissed. I moved off my seat to get a better view. I saw the group of women the men had been chatting up. They looked around, trying to get the attention of a manager, but only a few barmaids were on the floor, and they wouldn’t do much good.

  What had George done? Knowing him, he’d run his mouth and upset the men. His tongue was as strong as all the other muscles in his body, he just didn’t know how to control it.

  The three guys all looked wired. That trip to the bathroom hadn’t been to pee. Women went in packs to powder their nose, and I’d guess these guys had all done the same thing.

  “Should we help?” I asked.

  “And what help would we be exactly?” Ellie replied. “I suggest we just watch the action.”

  I protested, but the three of us all walked slowly closer to the scene. We were still twenty yards away, when Whit pushed George from behind. George barely moved in response. Whit pushed him again, harder this time.

  Now George reacted. He swung an elbow, and connected with Whit’s face, sending him crashing to the floor with a scream of pain. The other two now realized they had to act, but had no idea how. George stood there waiting patiently for them to do something, as if his code of honor wouldn’t allow him to make the first move.

  Both of the men acted together, but they made a complete hash of it. One guy pushed George, moving him back a yard, while the other tried to punch him. The punch ended up swinging through the air in front of George, who effortlessly grabbed the arm and pulled the puncher towards him.

  I couldn’t make out what happened in the tangle of legs, but the guy who threw the punch ended up on the floor while the other just ran out of the club as fast as his drug-fueled legs could take him.

  “Are you ladies okay?” I heard George ask the women at the table.

  “We’re fine now, thank you,” one of them said, as she eyed George admirably. “I thought we’d be safe from guys like that here, but apparently not.”

  George looked down at the guy on the floor in front of him. “I don’t think they’ll be giving you any more trouble.”

  The guy in front of George looked out for the count, but Whit was moving. “George,” I yelled out nervously, as Whit pushed himself to his feet.

  “Be there in a minute,” he replied.

  I rolled my eyes as I watched George lapping up the attention from the ladies. Men.

  Whit looked dazed from the elbow to the face, but he clearly intended to swing for George.

  Fuck it.

  I threw my glass—still full of whiskey—and managed to connect with the back of Whit’s head. George spun round to see Whit falling back down to the floor, as the glass shattered on the floor.

  “Nice throw,” George remarked with a smile.

  Some bouncers finally came running over ready to take out the trash. “Sorry, Mr. Whittemore. I hope these men didn’t bother you.”

  “Don’t worry, Dan. They’ve been dealt with.” He turned back to face me, and smiled. “Now, where were we?”

  Chapter 7

  Sophia

  “You want another whiskey?” George asked.

  “I think I’ll stick to the Manhattans,” I replied.

  George ordered our drinks and then we headed over to a table far away from where all the action had gone down. My heart still raced in my chest, but George looked as calm and collected as he had before.

  “I don’t usually get in fights in bars,” George said.

  “Why did you this time?”

  “Those guys were off their faces. I went over there and some of the things I heard were… not pleasant.”

  “I can imagine.”

  “I did ask them to leave first. I even said please.”

  “I suppose you’re used to getting what you want.”

  George smiled. It was a smile that made me thankful I was sitting down already. “With women, yes,” he admitted. “Although some insist on playing hard to get.”

  “I’m not playing hard to get. I’m just sticking to my end of the bargain.”

  “So you’re only talking to me for the free drinks?” The waitress brought over our drinks at just the right time. I took a long slow sip of my Manhattan, hoping he would forget all about it. He didn’t. “Tell you what. You can leave, and I’ll still keep the tab open. You’re under no obligation to talk to me.”

  I didn’t want to leave. That was half the problem though. I didn’t want to leave George now, and I wouldn’t want to leave him when he inevitably kicked me out of bed in the morning with nothing more than money for a taxi home.

  Besides, if I went back to the girls now, my life wouldn’t be worth living.

  “I’ll stay for a bit,” I replied
.

  “Thought so.”

  “Why do you want to talk to me anyway?” I asked.

  “Why do you think?”

  “Same reason as every other guy, I suppose. You want to get laid. What I don’t understand, is why single me out? Ellie is prettier than me, and Dani is far easier.”

  “You’re the most beautiful woman in this room, and any other room I’ve ever been in,” George replied, without missing a beat. “And I like a challenge.”

  I tried to let his words wash over me like the empty compliments they no doubt were. It didn’t work. Butterflies fluttered in my stomach, as I looked at this perfect specimen of British muscle, and tried not to let the damp passion between my legs control the words that escaped my mouth.

  In some ways, George might even be considered a gentleman. His words made him sound like an arrogant ass, but his actions were at least noble. I’d already seen him step in and help women out twice today, and that hadn’t been to get sex. Unless it was all part of a grand plan to get me into bed. No, now I was the one being arrogant.

  I shook my head decisively. “I hope you’re not a sore loser, because I’m not going home with you tonight.”

  We’d both end up losers, but better to lose out in the early stages than suffer the heartbreak of defeat in the final.

  “You’re very determined to deny yourself pleasure,” George said.

  “Maybe I don’t consider a night with you to be a pleasurable experience.”

  “Trust me it is. And you know it. I can tell from the way you’re sitting.”

  I was sitting completely normally. I had one leg crossed over the other, and I was facing the person I was talking to. What was suggestive about that?

  “You’re leaning in to me,” George continued when he saw I looked confused. “When you spoke to Whit, you were leaning away. And you’re fidgeting.”

  “Perhaps I’m bored.”

  “No, you’re horny.”

  “Excuse me,” I exclaimed. “You’re taking quite the leap there, mister.”

  George shrugged casually. “Just telling it as I see it. You’re sitting there trying to reason with your body, but that won’t help. The fire’s burning and you can’t put it out. You could sit there wafting a fan between your legs and it wouldn’t help.”

  I gasped, but it was more in pleasure than shock. George knew it too. If I overheard a guy talking like this to Ellie, I’d drag her away from him before she could do anything stupid. Why didn’t I do the same thing to myself?

  Would it really be so bad to have one night with George just to quench my thirst? A few orgasms could at least keep my mind focused for the next couple of weeks.

  “Why are you here?” George asked after a few moments of silence.

  “Because my friends are complete bitches,” I replied. “I should be at home studying.”

  “No, I mean why are you in the UK?”

  “Believe it or not, I thought I might meet some nice men here.”

  “There’s more to it than that,” George said. His eyes examined me, as if he were Sherlock Holmes searching for clues. “You’re taking a master’s degree in a subject you don’t seem overly interested in. Plus, you’ve not come straight from your undergraduate degree. You’re a year or two older than most of the other students.”

  “Thanks,” I replied. “Just what every girl wants to hear.”

  “You’re twenty-three,” he said, ignoring me. “So you either took a while to graduate the first time, or you took time off.”

  “I’m a slow learner,” I snapped. “I think we’ve already established that you’re cleverer than I am, so… Wait. How do you know I’m twenty-three?”

  “I asked the bouncer. Photographic memory that guy. So go on, why are you back at uni, or ‘college’ as you call it?”

  “If you must know, I wasn’t going to go to college initially. I was going to be a writer.”

  “And how did that go?”

  “Brilliantly. I’m an international sensation. I just choose to work in a coffee shop for a laugh.”

  “You’re really developing the English knack for sarcasm,” George said, smiling again. Did he find everything funny? It was so hard to hate him when he smiled at me like that.

  “There were issues,” I said softly. “So I went to college. Then there were more issues, so I decided to study in the UK with the goal of staying here after. Except that plan probably won’t work out either, because my chances of getting a visa are slim to none.

  “So you’re running from something? Or someone?”

  “It doesn’t matter,” I said, as images of Stan flooded my mind. “I haven’t found what I’m looking for here, and soon I’ll have to go home. What’s your story? You’re clearly rich. Why hang around with girls like me?”

  “I told you, you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve—”

  “—ever laid eyes on. Yeah, yeah, enough with the bullshit. What’s the real reason?”

  “Wow, you really get to the point.”

  “I’m not completely English yet.”

  For the first time tonight, George looked like he was struggling to find the words. He was weighing up his response, considering whether to tell me the truth, or spin me some bullshit. If he lied, I’d know he was just like every other guy I’d met so far. All I wanted was a bit of honesty.

  He shuffled over, so that our bodies were touching, and then reached down and placed a large palm on my upper thigh. I repressed an instinct to flinch away, and instead let the warmth from his fingers travel slowly up to my core.

  The fire burned so intently, I felt sure he’d pull his hand away to avoid getting burned. Instead he just squeezed harder as he leaned down to whisper in my ear.

  “I want you to come back for sex,” George said slowly, but with a steady determination, as if he weighed each word as he spoke it. “I want to give you a night you’ll never forget.”

  Serves me right for wanting honesty I suppose.

  “That’s not what I want,” I lied.

  It was what I’d wanted from the moment the airplane had touched down at Heathrow. It was more than I’d wanted. Even my wild imagination hadn’t created a guy like George in my mind.

  Here he was offering it to me on a plate and I didn’t know what to do.

  “You do want it,” George insisted. “Close your eyes, and listen to your body.”

  I closed my eyes, and once again the music in the background faded away. It was just George and me now. I felt his breath on my neck, as his finger crept a few inches further up my thigh. His nose brushed lightly past my hair, before his soft lips nuzzled against my neck.

  I leaned back and let out a light, orgasmic whimper. Then my eyes snapped open as if I’d been violently woken from a dream. We couldn’t do this. Not here at least.

  “Everything okay?” George asked.

  I nodded, and put on my best English accent. “Get your coat, luv. You’ve pulled.”

  -*-

  We quickly said our goodbyes to a delighted—and slightly jealous looking—Ellie and Dani, before heading outside and straight into a cab.

  George insisted on going back to his place, muttering something about not liking the beds in the campus dorms. Fine with me. The walls were thin, and the girls I lived with were judgmental enough as it was.

  “Do an English accent again,” George whispered in my ear, as his strong hands grabbed hold of my ass in the elevator.

  “No,” I replied, letting him kiss my neck as he pushed me up against the elevator wall. “That was a one-time thing. Just like this.”

  George carried me out of the elevator with my legs wrapped around his hips. I heard some old lady mutter “oh my,” but I didn’t care. I kept my eyes closed until we were inside and I was pressed up against a wall, George’s erection pressing up against my sex.

  I fumbled with the buttons on his shirt, while he peeled my top off and started kissing the tops of my breasts peeking out above the bra. I gave up trying to undr
ess him and just held on, while his hands and lips devoured my breasts. His cock strained to get out of his pants, as it rubbed against me. The anticipation was enough to have me gushing and on the edge of coming; I hadn’t even taken off my skirt yet.

  A loud moan escaped my lips like an unexpected hiccup. George looked up at from my breasts and smiled. “I guess it’s time we move this into the bedroom.”

  I nodded, as I felt my face turn red with embarrassment and excitement. “Can we put some music on?” I asked.

  “Uh, sure, okay,” George replied. “Worried the neighbors will hear you screaming?”

  “Force of habit. We have thin walls in the dorms.”

  “Use the TV. It’s connected up to my music library. Don’t be long.”

  George passed me the remote and I flicked the television on. My hand was shaking in anticipation. I wasn’t usually nervous having sex. I’d had one night stands before, and I wasn’t short on experience with guys. But I’d never met a guy like George before.

  Maybe not quite Prince Charming. More like Prince Charming crossed with David Beckham, but perhaps that was what I really wanted after all.

  A news channel appeared on the screen, so I quickly tried to change the channel before anything too depressing came on and spoiled the vibe. I changed the channel and then immediately changed it back again.

  George’s picture was on the screen.

  George was on the national news, and he was the lead story.

  Chapter 8

  George

  “Oh shit,” I moaned as I saw the television screen.

  She said I had one more day, God damn it. I should never have trusted a journalist.

  “What’s going on?” Sophia asked. She didn’t take her eyes off the television screen, so I quickly put my shirt and trousers back on. She wasn’t going to want to see me half naked after this. She wasn’t going to want to see me at all after this.

  “Might as well watch and find out,” I said. I slumped down on the sofa, and motioned for her to sit next to me. “I’ll let you know if any of it’s not true.”