THE HARDEST YARDS (A BAD BOY FOOTBALL ROMANCE)

by Andrea Rose

  Her lower lip between my teeth, I sent my tongue through the precipice of my mouth in a deep kiss.

  Sighs leaving lungs, my sorceress had me powerless in her seduction. But I kept hold tightly as her tongue brushed the tip of my cock—I’d be damned if I’d ever let her go again.

  I thrust into her throat. She devoured me, moaning on my shaft until I needed her mouth on mine again.

  “What are we doing?” she huffed, body fighting her head as she helped me lift my shirt over my head.

  “Living in the moment.”

  “Until?”

  “Until it’s not fun anymore.”

  I crushed my lips to her again.

  My way of leading her body where I wanted her felt like a dance. I slipped her upright to sit against my throbbing cock.

  Balance of power shifting, my cowgirl roughly tugged my hair and danced her pelvis in sensual circles on my length.

  “Y’like that?” she asked.

  My hand choked her rougher this time.

  “Harder,” she asked and I took a firmer control of my beauty.

  Pastures lay in a winter haze but the cold couldn’t touch us now we were wrapped in each other.

  One minute, I’d be between Ariana’s legs bucking wildly like she held the answer to my every prayer. Others, I’d have my tongue sliding along her gorgeous clit, pressing my fingertips into her flesh as her body heaved in elation.

  In the open country air, this woman lifted my body higher than any one ever had.

  Perspiring, hands clenched in the other’s, I eased into her again, and again, and again…

  …Our bodies gave up before our appetite for the other did…

  A vein tensed in my neck.

  Ariana closed her eyes.

  “You look me in the eye when you cum, Ari,” I ordered. “Show me your gorgeous face.”

  She strained to keep her eyes on mine, eyes rolling to the skies. “Cum for me, Ari.”

  “Oh fuck!” she whined and gripped her fingers in her hair.

  I held her against me when she came, her body convulsing inward, neck arching back.

  “Oh my god, oh my god…” she breathed repeatedly.

  I tore her apart and put her back together in my arms…

  “Come inside me,” she breathed.

  She didn’t need to ask twice.

  My throat strained, pelvis bucking hard against hers until my own body tensed and released.

  We collapsed atop one another, a tangle of naked limbs. Ari’s fingers played with my chest hairs and I kissed her head.

  “Wow,” I puffed.

  Ariana’s eyes swept upward, beckoning for more.

  “We need to get you warm.”

  She excitedly climbed off me and stood naked in the chilling air. “That’s your job. One rule, though: No clothes or blankets allowed.” She bit her finger in a jester grin.

  “Hey, Queenie,” I said and picked her up in my arms.

  “Ari or Arianaaa…” Hands on my neck, she giggled and whined at me to put her down. “Stop!”

  I walked us by the pool, swaying her over the water.

  “Don’t you dare.”

  “How about in here?” I said and walked us into the warm jacuzzi.

  She laughed and cuddled her wet self around the back of me.

  “You would have a jacuzzi this big.”

  She traced a line along my collarbone.

  “So.”

  “So.”

  Fingertips tip-toed down beneath the water to find what else of mine was big.

  “Round 2, King,” she whispered, “…Ding-ding-ding…”

  I inhaled her hair and dove into her touch.

  Arianna ran out of steam after her fifth orgasm and shoved my head away from her gorgeous pussy.

  I stole a furry blanket and towel to wrap her in. Her cheeks glowed, her smile beamed and her gooseprickles wouldn’t go away.

  “How long are we here again?” she said.

  I tugged her in closer. “That’s not how you live in the moment.”

  She let me win and sunk deeper into my arms.

  We didn’t talk for a while, preferring to lay against each other in comfortable silence.

  One day left to pretend I lived in a world where me and Ari could be together.

  23

  The sunset dimmed, colliding with a beautiful storm from the West. Night had started falling over the ranch for another evening. We spent the day riding horses and meeting the ranch’s staff.

  Knees got weaker. Things got cozier. Feelings took deeper root.

  “I’m exhausted,” I said. I set my wine glass back on the table and bit my grin. “The good kind, for a change.”

  I lay back on the sofa, arms wrapped around the back of my head.

  My toes traced the last few clouds I could see against the ashy sky.

  “My king makes a good house husband.”

  “I resent that title.” Tyler knelt up from the fire pit and reached for another slice of cheese from a charcuterie board he’d made. “The househusband part. Calling me your king, on the other hand, is mandatory from this moment forth. That’s an order, Maldova.”

  “You’re an idiot.” I tossed some bread towards him as he stood from the flames.

  “You’re incredible. Come on, lady’s request.” He jived up to the speakers. I spat wine up my nose watching him and reached for a napkin.

  “Almost any song you wish.”

  “Almost?” I said.

  Tyler tapped a record player. Of course he hadn’t figured out the bluetooth setup in the house.

  “I dunno, Van Morisson?”

  Tyler gave an eyebrow.

  “What?”

  “Van Morrison?”

  I slapped the back of the sofa and stood to my knees to find out why he was shaking his head. “Brown Eyed Girl, Have I Told You Lately, Moondance…Tyler…”

  “Of all songs by all the the artists in all the world of all time, you want to listen to Van Morrison on this our last night in the world together?”

  I nodded.

  “Y’sure you want that to be the next song?”

  “Wh—Yes. It takes me back to a good time,” I said to my defense. “Why are you making such a big deal of it? Wine…cheese…fire…Van Morisson. Makes sense.”

  He tensed his nose and seesawed his hand. “Don’t think it’s too…obvious? Too cheesy perhaps for a moment this big.”

  “Are you proposing to me?” I joked at first then squinted to note his reaction. “Seriously.”

  “Propose? Ari, baby, this is more significant than a ring. Don’t you get what this next song is about to be?”

  “A…chance to bond over music tastes? I don’t…”

  “Van Morisson?”

  “Brown Eyed Girl.”

  “You don’t have brown eyes.”

  I snaked over to him and lightly batted the back of his head. He caught me in the nook of his elbow and drew me in close to browse the records.

  “This will be our song,” he said. “That’s why it’s important. I made such a big deal of it just now, it’s now our song forever until we’re dead so choose wisely.”

  He released me and returned to filing through a box of vinyls.

  I scrambled to disguise how he made my heart standstill and—with a light head—fell into a nearby barstool.

  “Haven’t learned how to use your phone’s music app yet?” I asked.

  “Keeps asking me for a password.”

  “Did you teleport from a distant time? Why are you so technologically challenged?”

  Tyler slipped the towel hanging from his neck and whipped at the air around me. I flailed back and forth trying to dodge him in fits of laughter and screams.

  “Apologies some of us had more important things going on at school. What’ll it be, Maldova?” he said, towel whipping. “Final answer.”

  I made a break, ducking through him to pick up my own weapon.

  We orbited one another, towels sp
inning at our hips, ready to attack.

  Mine met his shin.

  “How do even you know it’ll be the song that sticks?”

  He whipped at me. A miss.

  “It’ll stick,” he said with a knowing pout and tackled me over his shoulder. “Especially after I make it your ringtone every time I call.”

  Feet back to the grass, I found my attack stance once more. “Twenty bucks you don’t even know how to change a ring tone.”

  Fthp! I missed his hand by a hair.

  Fthp! He gently nipped my chest.

  “Set…set…hut,” I shouted and stomped my foot into a lunge.

  “That doesn’t even…” Before he could finish, I whipped my towel on an unknown limb.

  He heaped down to the wet grass.

  “…Make sense,” he wheezed.

  “I’ve told you about going easy with me. Stand up.”

  He rolled back into the light, body in the fetal position, hands clasped over precious jewels.

  “I surrender. You’re too powerful. Moondance it is. Can’t beat the classics.”

  I leaned to offer him my arm to help him to a kneel.

  “Sorry,” I said and chewed my smile.

  He gripped me and dragged his touch down my skin until his fingers encased mine…

  My heart skipped.

  I contemplated him below me on one knee and my hand clapped over my mouth.

  Don’t say yes, stupid, for God’s sakes.

  “Please don’t actually be doing this right now,” I whispered without my lips even moving.

  He grunted and stood to his feet. “Relax. Sociopathic boyfriend’s are your past. All I want is your hand in choosing this song. Come on.”

  Tyler witnessed my sigh. With a tender hand, he lead us to the record boxes full of LP’s.

  I stole a sideway glance through my curtain of hair, pretending to be reading the album faces when all I wanted to do was read him.

  “It’s forever, remember. Like a tattoo.” He lifted various choices, declining them all back into the pile. “Weighty decision. I’m surprised you’re not more nervous—thought you always puked in stressful situations.”

  “I’ll make sure to turn your way when I do.”

  “No pressure.” Tyler watched over my shoulder. Whew, wouldn’t wanna be you.”

  I lifted The Beach Boys out the stack— A disappointed shake of the head.

  Coldplay— We both shook our heads.

  Shania Twain—He shook his head, I set it aside as a maybe.

  I filtered through songs in my head, too, ones I knew in the past that might fit this potential soul-mate of mine. Oldies brought up memories with my father, new releases brought up no emotion at all.

  “Van Morrison,” I said again and threw my hand up. “He always reminded me of good times. I want it to stay that way.”

  “It’s one or the other with you, isn’t it?”

  “What?”

  “In the future or the past, never here with me where you’re supposed to be, picking a song that reminds you of nothing but us.”

  Tyler twirled my hair between his fingertips and swayed us side-to-side.

  “Then you choose, if you think it’s that simple.”

  “How ‘bout we choose?”

  From behind me, he reached his arm over mine, guiding my hand like a claw machine at the arcade.

  His head rested on my shoulder to watch our hands glide up and down the covers.

  “It’s simple,” he said softly. “Open…”

  My fingers spread apart. He glided our hands over the covers once more.

  “And close.”

  He pinched my fingers onto a random record, slipped it from the pile and and placed it in my other hand.

  “And the winner is…?”

  “Too scared to look.”

  “Me too. Heart’s racing.” He laid my hand to his chest and felt the rapid thudding.“This is big, Maldova. How about instead, no second guessing, you keep your eyes on me, you slip it from the sleeve, put it in the player. We’ll find out what it is after.”

  “OK.”

  “No take backs. This is our song.”

  “None. Except…”

  I gave a sorry face to Tyler, passing the record from the sleeve to his hands.

  “I’ll slip it from the sleeve. You’ll have to do the rest.”

  “How the tables have turned. Don’t have an app for using a record player there, babe?”

  He milked his moment, spinning the black record on his hand. “To my defense, I could probably download one in, like…two seconds…so…”

  “Smart, if you could get signal.”

  Please with himself, he set the player up and held my hand at the ready.

  After setting down the needle to play, he rushed us toward the comforting fire, burying us into the huge pillows.

  The song started.

  I didn’t care what it was. Whatever choice, it’d be perfect.

  …Even Coldplay.

  Tyler had a way of turning mundane life into moments. I hated this might be the last moment he ever made for me. The minute I thought on it, my fingers pressed to his mouth.

  We tightened in each other, an endless embrace as faint notes came, through the speakers.

  I recognized the song first.

  I snapped to him, body tingling as I tried to come to terms that romance didn’t die, it just happened to all be squeezed into the man holding me right now.

  “Who is it?” he asked

  I gave a lop-sided smile.

  “Tyler, you set this up.”

  He looked concerned all of a sudden and I reassured him with a kiss.

  “You don’t know the song?”

  He shook his head and tightened his lip.

  “And It Stoned Me…” I hinted. No response. “The first track of Van Morisson’s Moondance record.”

  A penny dropped. He leaned away from me, struggling to believe it too.

  “Bullshit.”

  “No bullshit.”

  He laughed through his nose and stole my shivering body back under the blankets sitting fireside. “Seems you beat Fate to the punch on that one.”

  “That’ll show it to mess with me and my plans.”

  The song played through.

  “Unusual choice,” he said when it ended. “Perfect.”

  A seed sprouted in my barren heart— Tyler made it bloom.

  “Y’cold yet?” he whispered to me.

  My head shook into his chest. “I’m perfect.”

  He wrapped further inward, resting his nose to my hair. “I know.”

  24

  Ariana busied herself playing with my hands, tracing the shape of my fingertips. The size of my palm. The callouses on the knuckles.

  Misty rain peppered my skin.

  “That from the ball?” she asked, rubbing against my roughened hand and paying no mind to the weather.

  “And many a heavy weight session.”

  She snorted. “Of course. How could I forget?”

  She spread out my hand and set hers down inside it. “So this is the last chance I get to see you for a while?”

  “You tell me. There’s a plus one on the tour whenever Phoebe isn’t around.”

  She didn’t even consider it.

  The record scratched. Van’s crooning zipped into a high-pitched loop of ‘-ing-ing-ing’.

  “I can’t,” Ari said when I snuck out from under her to fix the track.

  I bode my time, spinning the record on my fingers before setting it back down. I had to find an irrefutable reason for her not to run and hide the minute we got back to the city.

  My earlier move choosing our song should go down in courting history books. At least I got that part right.

  I knew exactly where to pick the Van Morrison record up from, having lifted it some inches higher when she wasn’t looking.

  Ari fell into my trap

  I’d make the confession to her about it one day, but not here. The
ranch was for believing.

  Van Morrison used to remind her of good times, I’d make sure from this day on he’d only remind her of the best.

  “I’m sorry that I can’t,” she said.

  “I thought I was your full time job.”

  “You are. But that ‘You’ includes all the non-you parts: Emails, meetings, writing, phone calls, organizing things. It takes a lot to function a You.”

  “Can’t argue that. But can’t you do it from the road these days? With all the…wireless and…internet…”

  “I can’t go. Please don’t push. And, dammit, the custody thing.” She sat her hand on her hair. “I can’t leave the city too long at once. I’ll micromanage from afar.”

  “Your custody battle, Ari…”

  “Mm.” She flipped a magazine page so fast it fanned some hair back.

  “Let’s stop skipping past it anytime you bring it up. I can help you, y’know?” She shifted to see my face in the light. “I have enough…money, contacts, power, whatever you need to help you fight this.”

  “I have shit going on beyond the custody hearings. I’m battling for my apartment soon, too, and my belongings….and probably other stuff too knowing this freak.”

  “Your apartment?”

  “Apparently Braydon’s entitled to…a lot of it.”

  I spun around to listen to her.

  Her eyes fell back to the page.

  “Tell me.”

  “No.”

  “Save the secrets for back in the city.”

  She sucked her teeth. I sat beside her and buried my nose in her hair, to get high on her.

  “Braydon,” she proceeded, “in all his heroic glory, found me a better deal on a mortgage a few years ago meaning I could buy the apartment I’d been renting. After he moved in, naïve me granted permission for him to sign where necessary so the bank would accept the loan. Voila! Baby Ari signed away fifty-percent of her hard earned property and now can’t afford the legal team to win me the other half back.” Her voice’d crept to a higher octave.

  “I’ll buy it out from under him, sell it back to you.”

  I thought she’d take it as an idea to consider.

  Instead, she leaned away from me to examine my eyes.

  “My hard earned savings paid for the deposit on that place. For someone on my wages, owning a home is a big deal.”