Free Baller: An Off-limits, Sports Romance (Bad Boy Ballers Book 2)

by Rie Warren

  He leaned over and barreled water through the air with both hands. The cold spray hit me in the chest, instantly soaking my shirt. I didn’t give up though. I got in another half dozen or so hits while he drenched me, both of us laughing the entire time.

  Then Brooks went completely still. He stared at me, at my clinging top, my tightened nipples. No bra. Whoops.

  My breath deepened, lifting my breasts even more. And I walked closer to him, fully aware of my effect on him.

  “I guess you got your Bo Derek moment after all.” I almost didn’t recognize my voice, low and smoky and filled with the lust building inside me.

  He licked his lips and swallowed. His hands opened and closed. His gaze roved from my breasts to my mouth.

  He reached out faster than I expected, towing me into his arms. “You’re the one who mentioned Bo Derek, babe, not me.”

  Lifting me clean off my feet, he spun me in a slow circle, our lips so close together. The hard bulge of his cock at exactly the right spot to make me moan. His irises darkened nearly to black, and his heat seeped into me through our wet clothes.

  “Goddamn but you are beautiful.” His voice gravelly, Brooks lightly tugged on my braid.

  I moaned again, arching into him, waiting . . . waiting for his kiss.

  With a low curse, he carried me to the sand and slid me down his body. A thrill shot through me, and I pulled away. I wanted him to see me—all of me, with my clothes sticking to my body, revealing more than concealing what I’d trained so hard to achieve.

  I wanted to be naked in front of him, to feel him filling me until I couldn’t take any more.

  Hot wet heat curled between my legs, and Brooks growled. That was the sound I wanted to hear when he pulsed inside me.

  I drew my hands up from my hips to my waist and over my breasts. I smoothed my palms over my damp face.

  With a swish of my hips, I came within touching distance again. “Will you take me home now?”

  His shirt clung to his muscled chest, wisps of dark hair glinting wetly in the V of flannel.

  “’Course.” He looked at me hungrily before slamming his eyes shut. “Straight back to your apartment.” Diamond drops of water gleamed on his beard.

  “I meant your place.”

  Chapter Nine

  Delaney Fever

  Brooklyn

  DELANEY’S STORY, HER LOSS, hit me right in the gut.

  Beaten by her husband? What kind of sick, psychopathic bastard did that to a woman—any woman—let alone his wife? The scum-sucking fucker wasn’t fit to breathe the same goddamn air as Delaney, and if I ever came face to face with him I’d show him how it felt to be at the mercy of someone stronger.

  She’d lost her baby because of him. I’d had a hard time staying strong and not breaking down when she’d told me, because that was just . . . shit. I couldn’t even imagine what she’d lived through, with absolutely no support. Not from her mother. Not from the fucking police.

  And here she was, more than a survivor. Winning at not just the game, but life, after everything she’d endured.

  Fierce, brave, in-your-face, and doing it her own way.

  But then . . . stealing my hat and planting it on her head before tempting me to chase her.

  Shit.

  Fearless, brave, strong, and . . . flirty. Not to mention wet. I popped a boner as soon as I saw her with water dripping down her collarbone, sucking her shirt to her braless tits. Wet T-shirt contest much? And she knew it, too. She stood before me like a goddamn glowing Amazon.

  I’d barely been able to pack up the picnic, stow our stuff away, and hoist her onto Cinnamon’s saddle, my hands—my steadfast hands—frigging shaking by the possible promise of what lay ahead.

  I tried not to read into what she meant by me taking her back to my house. I refused to have expectations. My cock didn’t have any such problems, though. The dick in question was solely focused on Delaney. Cold wet jeans didn’t even have a negative affect on my heavy hard-on.

  When we reached my place, I helped her off the mare. I sent her inside so she could dry off, and so I could put up the horses without being tormented by her hard nipples begging for my mouth.

  Of course I stood in the door to watch her ass as she walked away.

  She knew. She had to. Her hips swayed. She flicked her braid over her shoulder and started loosening it. And when she hit the steps, she began pulling up her shirt.

  I lurched back, my eyes cranking closed.

  Beating feet back to the horses, I started loosening Jester’s hackamore. “Lord, give me strength.”

  Using his velvety nose, he tried to push me away because he wanted to get his own sniff on with Cinnamon.

  “Fat lotta fucking help you are,” I grumbled as I removed all the tack, checked his hooves for any stray rocks then brushed him down.

  Every time I blocked his line of vision to the mare, he stamped his hooves impatiently.

  Yeah, he just wanted to mount her. I knew that feeling.

  Leading him to his stall, I said, “Eat your damn oats. If I’m not gettin’ any neither are you.”

  Baleful whinny.

  “It’s all about respecting the women, my man.”

  And dying from extreme levels of horniness.

  After taking care of Cinnamon, I carried the picnic stuff up to the house. My shirt had begun to dry, and I unbuttoned it. Couldn’t wait to get the stiff jeans off, though. Especially as the wet material was crowding my cock.

  I found Delaney in the living room, standing at the bank of windows that overlooked the waterway. She was drying her loosened black hair with one towel, another wrapped around her bare body.

  Jesus Christ.

  I rubbed a hand across my chest, staring at her like a starving man.

  She turned slowly, letting the towel at her hair slip to the floor. The evening sky framing her started twinkling with bright stars.

  The more stunning view was Delaney herself.

  I tried to make my frigging voice work, but all I wanted to do was rush across the floor and slam my lips to hers especially when she picked up my Stetson from where it rested on the couch and slanted it on her head.

  Gulp.

  I swallowed, swallowed hard. “I see you found a towel.”

  Could be a fucking hand towel for all it covered. Maybe it just looked so small because her body was so long—legs up to there and shoulders and arms and cleavage and tits and . . .

  Tell you one thing, my wet jeans were beginning to chafe my goddamn unflagging dick.

  I dropped my hand to the side, and Delaney sauntered closer. Her gaze locked on mine—the tawny depths of her eyes mesmerizing. She reached out, her fingers skimming through the hair on my chest to my abs and dangerously close to the bulge straining just below the belt buckle.

  “I can get you some of my sweats and—”

  “Or not.” And right there in the middle of my living room, she dropped the towel.

  Holy. Fuck.

  Giving me a slow wink, she pulled down the brim of my Stetson. “I think I’ll keep this on.”

  Instant extra jolt of arousal.

  Delaney naked with my Stetson on. Fuck me.

  I could do nothing but stare. High tits, a nice handful. Nipples dusky rose and pebbled. The damp hair to the middle of her back and the tiny strip of black hair just above her . . .

  I scooped her up and instantly latched my lips to hers. Her moan eased into my mouth along with her tongue I ferociously teased. My hand at her neck, I angled her better, kissed her more greedily.

  Warmth. Warmth everywhere. Her bare body, drool-worthy tits, the long slim legs all cradled against me.

  Breaking the kiss with a groan, I rushed from the room and thundered up the stairs.

  “Your hat!” she exclaimed as the Stetson flew from her head.

  “Don’t care about the damn hat.”

  “Where are we going?” she asked breathlessly.

  “Thought I’d like to fuck you on my
bed instead of in the middle of the living room the first time. But we can fix that later.”

  “Beds are overrated.”

  I halted at the top of the landing. “You’re right.”

  Sliding Delaney to her feet, I backed her up against the wall.

  “What are you—”

  I dipped my head and sucked one delicious nipple into my mouth.

  “Ohhh!” Her hands clutched my hair as I licked around the soft peak.

  Skimming my lips through her cleavage, I toyed with the other nipple, washing it with my tongue over and over. Until Delaney cupped her tit and fed it into my mouth. Her back arched when I drew back, letting the glistening swollen bud pop from my lips.

  Kneeling, I traced my tongue down her flat tummy, feeling the tremors in her body. When I looked up, her head was thrown back, her eyes fluttered closed.

  “Jesus,” I murmured in a guttural tone.

  Her pussy shined, already slick. The thin landing strip led to the tiny button of her clit, pushing from the hood.

  “Gotta eat you now.” I prodded her thighs farther apart, grasped her ass in my hands, and lightly drew my tongue along her slit.

  “Brooks!” She hissed in a breath.

  I laved at her, flattening my tongue, sliding it from the bottom of her wet cunt then up and over the hood of her clit.

  “Oh, please. Please.” Her fingers twisted in my hair.

  I kept up the slow tease, never touching the place she wanted me sucking most. Eating her pussy, tonguing inside her, tasting her essence, watching her swell.

  Listening to her desperate moans.

  Even more juicy, her breathing ragged, her cunt lips engorged.

  I growled once then attacked her with my whole face.

  “Oh God. Oh God!”

  My beard rubbed against her wet heat, my nose, my lips, my teeth. I traced every part of her then pumped two fingers inside. I circled her clit with the soft hair at my chin.

  “Yes!” Crushing me to her, she rocked into my mouth.

  I stopped just long enough to ask, “You like the beard, huh?”

  “Make me come. Make me come.”

  Chuckling, I finally gave her what she wanted. My pointed tongue darted at her clit, again, again, again. I drove a slick finger inside her, circling and pulling out, circling and pulling out.

  When I yanked on her ass and filled my mouth with all of her, she shrieked.

  The hot wet pulsations inside her clamped down on my fingers. Her thighs shook. Her body froze. I raised my eyes to the most glorious sight I’d ever seen—Delaney coming apart, coming on my mouth.

  I held her up with my hands, slowing my strokes, softening my tongue, kissing her with my lips. I wanted to eat her pussy for hours. Put it on my damn meal plan. But the rock hard cock in my still-goddamn-damp jeans had other ideas.

  I rose, pulling her into my body, and she shuddered, her arms clasped around my neck.

  “Like that, Delaney?” I asked, grinding against her because if I didn’t get some relief soon I’d bust my nut all over my jeans.

  “You almost made me fall over, asshole.” She slanted a satisfied smile at me.

  Lifting her legs around my waist, I grinned down at her. “You weren’t complaining, baby.”

  She kissed my throat, just below the line where my beard ended. “Mmm. I don’t think I’d ever complain about what you just did to me.”

  An electric jolt rippled through my body as she sucked and licked the most sensitive skin on my neck. But I wasn’t about to forget all the shit Delaney had gone through with that piss poor excuse of a wasband.

  Inside my room, I set her on the bed then tried to tear my eyes away from just how fucking amazing she looked, reclining there, body glowing, bare and possibly all mine.

  At that moment I thanked fuck I still had my jeans on because if my cock had been swinging free I’d have jumped on her and thrust into her hard with no second thoughts.

  As it was I took one last look before pacing away.

  “Brooks?”

  Damn my eyes, I glanced back.

  She was on her knees, that sinful bod singing to me, the sight of her dips and curves almost shredding the last of my willpower.

  I tempered my need. “Are you sure about this?”

  Leaving the bed, she walked toward me. “Do you take me for the kind of woman who doesn’t know what she wants?”

  My gaze darted to her luscious pouty lips, my fists balled at my sides. I was throbbing inside and out. “No but after what you told me—”

  “This is you and me, Brooks. It has nothing to do with that.”

  My nostrils flared. I smelled her heat. My jaw clenched. I still tasted her on my tongue.

  I maintained the smallest distance from her, aching in every single muscle of my body to ride her harder, longer, better than any man she’d ever had.

  “Then I want you to know I stopped fucking around the first day I saw you.”

  “Ahhh.” Delaney’s fingertip touched my neck before travelling in a meandering path down my pecs and onto my flexing abs. “There’s that romantic I mentioned earlier.”

  I almost blushed, but apparently all the blood in my body had rushed down to my cock so that didn’t happen. “Never said I was good with words. But you won’t be able to doubt my hands after tonight.”

  Delaney stood so close all those naked naughty curves grazed against me. “I never had any doubt about your hands.”

  Chapter Ten

  Holy Mother of Tats and Muscles

  Delaney

  BROOKLYN WAS CONCERNED ABOUT me, but to be honest? I could not wait to get my hands all over him. The moment he’d stepped into the living room and I saw his reflection in the windows, I knew I had to have him.

  The unbuttoned shirt showed off his supercharged body—the well-sculpted broad torso—and those jeans. Those jeans plastered to the hard edge of his thighs, his ass, his . . . oh my God . . . the Girth Brooks cock made every single part of me swell with need.

  In his bedroom he stood in front of me, not touching. His shirt hung open, his eyes hooded low, and his breath struck in and out of his chest.

  “You’re in charge. Whatever you want.” His words came out thick and hoarse.

  I drew my finger from his stomach and slipped it between my pursed lips. “Oh, I already know I’m in charge.”

  I thought Brooklyn’s eyes were going to fall out of his head. His hips surged, bringing my attention to the long hard formation at his groin. Nnnnh, that belt buckle just set everything off perfectly. I figured I owed him a little payback since he’d gone down on me so completely I’d nearly lost my voice—coming so hard from the hot strikes of his tongue on my pussy.

  My breasts brushed against the hair on his chest, and I reveled in the feel. I skimmed my fingers over his huge shoulders, behind his neck, into his thick, wavy hair.

  Drawing him to my lips, I cried out when he cupped my backside, tugging me up and into him.

  Our kiss long and hot and wet, I pulled away, panting.

  “I want you.” His pelvis kicked again.

  “I know.”

  He palmed my breasts, thumbing across my nipples. I almost lost my concentration, but I stepped behind him. Dragging the shirt from his thickly muscled arms, I kissed down the center of his back.

  “Oh, wow.” My fingertips skipped up the center of his laddered sinews fanning out. My breath held as I took in the total artistry and sheer fuckhotness of his ink-covered back.

  “You’ve seen my tats before,” Brooks spoke in a ragged voice, and chills rose on his skin beneath my fingers.

  “Not close up.” The tat was a landscape of horses . . . steeds, a whole herd of them in black and shades of gray with majestic manes. Dust flying beneath their soaring hooves. Red eyes glowing.

  The magnificent tattoo was made even more so by the muscular canvas of his entire back.

  “I’ve never seen anything like this.” Placing my hands on his lean hips, I followed one c
urving line with my tongue, licking.

  “Fuck.” Immense muscles flexed as his head craned back.

  I bit then sucked along his lats.

  “Jesus.” His shoulders knotted.

  I kissed at his tats, sucking and swirling my tongue.

  “Delaney . . .”

  “Are you going to beg me now?”

  When I rounded to face him, he curled an arm around my waist.

  I stopped him before his mouth crashed to mine. “I thought you said I was in charge.”

  Rushed ragged breaths chugged in and out of his chest. He looked at me as every sinew in his body—his highly trained form—tightened.

  “Fuuuck. You’re the boss.”

  I smiled, tossing his shirt onto a chair. “That’s right.”

  “But no fuckin’ shit? I’m so close to blowing my load just looking at you.”

  Walking toward his bed, I swished my ass. “I know.”

  “I’d rather come in your cunt.”

  A hot swirl of need simmered between my legs at his rough raw language. “Not my mouth?”

  “Fuck, Delaney. Yeah, I want your mouth. Want your pussy. Want you wrapped around me.”

  Spinning, I pointed to the bed. “Then why don’t you sit here?”

  He jerked into action, long strides delivering him to the huge bed. He eased down, thighs spread. His stomach visibly flexed, muscles dancing beneath sun-bronzed flesh and the treasure trail of dark brown hair.

  Leaning back on his elbows, he spread his legs, booted feet on the floor.

  I positioned myself between his thighs. The length of his cock beat against the jeans. I touched the head then glided my fingertips to the crux, to the center seam where his balls bulged.

  Brooklyn curled up, grunting.

  I hastily unbuckled his belt. Thwacked it from the loops. Tackled the buttons on his jeans. I opened the triangle of soft, damp, faded denim, whimpering at the size of the root of his cock and the nest of curls.

  “Babe.” His fingers danced along my jaw. “You gotta take my boots off first.”

  “What?” I lifted dazed eyes to his, my hand burrowing into his pants.

  He bucked up and grabbed my wrist. “If you wanna get at me, take the boots off.”