Bad Boy's Revenge: A Small-Town Romantic Suspense

by Frost, Sosie

  “Why not? I like kids.”

  “Oh, my God.” My legs were still wobbling from the most amazing orgasm of my life. “Are you serious right now?”

  “Uh-oh. If you don’t like that idea, you’re gonna hate the next...”

  Jack raised his eyebrows. His gaze was positively lecherous.

  I knew exactly what he wanted.

  I pointed a finger at him but regretted not flipping the one he deserved. “Absolutely not.”

  “Come on.”

  “Oh, yeah. That’s a convincing argument.” I stared him down, but the dashing blues were entirely too excited for this conversation. “Might as well just beg me because all the cool football players are doing it.”

  “Hear me out—”

  “Jack, I’m not having a baby with you!”

  “Look, we’re already playing the committed relationship card. This would really make them think I’ve changed.”

  “How about instead of making them think you’ve changed, you stop getting into trouble? You take some responsibility for yourself?”

  He shrugged. “Be realistic. The league likes having a scapegoat. They want to punish me. The media loves to catch me with my pants down and a girl sucking my cock. They’re looking for reasons to fuck me over. It won’t matter if I turn celibate and never leave the house. I’ll make a mistake, and they’ll use it against me. Having a baby is like…like…”

  “Don’t say it.”

  “Insurance.”

  “You swallowed too much pool water.”

  Jack grinned. “Swallowed more of you, Kiss. You’re slicker than the pool.”

  “Stop.”

  I avoided trapping myself within his reach. Jack’s pecs and abs still glistened from droplets of water, highlighting every chiseled definition and shadow caught in his muscles. The water ran to the V of his hips, the solid form of an athlete at his peak physical condition and then some. I’d never met a man as attractive, as deliciously gorgeous as Jack.

  If I was smart, I wouldn’t meet him again.

  Letting him touch me with those skilled hands and his tempting tongue was dangerous enough. Now he looked at me like a woman who needed to be fucked…and I didn’t think he meant to use protection now.

  “You wanted a kid,” Jack said. “A couple. Hell, you planned to be pregnant already.”

  I knew it was a bad idea to be honest with the playboy. “Yeah. I also planned to be married.”

  “To the asshole that cheated on you.”

  I swallowed. “Yes, I was going to marry Wyatt. Don’t insult the life I wanted. He broke my heart.”

  Jack crossed his arms. His muscles flexed, but the only bulge I studied was the one between his legs. “You didn’t love him.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I don’t think you loved him.”

  He was right, but I’d never admit it. “You think you know me that well?”

  “Love is overrated. You need passion and excitement and a night where you’re free to get into trouble. He never gave that to you.”

  “No, but I never asked for it. I chose stability. Responsibility. A plan and a routine. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with that.”

  “It’s boring.” Jack teased me with a smile. “You need more, Kiss. It’s time to take that step. So what if your plan is accomplished out of order?”

  “What—”

  “With me, you get a baby. You get to advance that career. Hell, you can even travel…at least to a couple different stadium cities.” He extended his arms. “So? What do you say?”

  I braved a chance to face him again. I marched before his broad chest and tried to reason with a man who memorialized his every mistake with a tattoo inked into his flesh.

  “Jack, you’re talking about having a baby.”

  “You wanted a baby.”

  “Not like this.” I stared at him, wondering why he still looked so calm, so dedicated to such a crazy proposition. “Just stop. We already have one crisis with this article coming out tomorrow. I…I’ll go back to the office. See if I can’t organize an interview or something for you to refute the allegations.”

  “I’ll give you a million dollars.”

  My heart stopped.

  I turned, staring at him, my mouth dry.

  He wasn’t serious. Was he?

  “You’ll…pay me?”

  “To have my baby. Yes.”

  “Jack, are you—”

  “Kiss, I can’t think of anyone better for it. You’re smart. You’re talented. You’re fucking beautiful. We have a good relationship. Why couldn’t we have a kid together?”

  “We aren’t in love.”

  “So? We could handle it.”

  Was he that naïve? I didn’t speak, just took my steps backward and hoped I wouldn’t crash into anything while I rushed to the door.

  Jack knew he made a mistake, but he called to me again.

  “I know you want to be a partner in Jolene’s firm,” he said. “Screw her. Leave the agency, and I’ll follow. I’ll be your primary client, and I’ll get a couple of the guys on the team to sign on too.”

  “Don’t do this.”

  “Why struggle to become a partner when you can get your own agency? I’ll give it to you.” His voice lowered. “How’s that plan looking now? Your own company and your baby all at the same time. That’s some good multi-tasking.”

  This wasn’t happening. This wasn’t how I planned anything.

  And it was nothing I should have considered while my core still heated from his touch.

  I backed away. “Jack, we can’t do this.”

  “Think about it.”

  “I don’t have to.”

  “Think about it anyway.”

  “I should go.”

  I didn’t let him walk me out. I escaped, grabbing my belongings before I suffered another mistake within Jack Carson’s hands.

  No way.

  I wasn’t even going to consider the insanity he proposed.

  He got me in trouble when he lied about us dating. Before we started the fake relationship, it was hard to keep him out of the news. Now that I had to artificially insert him into stories, dropping hints about our life and relationship, I couldn’t get him in enough articles. No one wanted that news.

  Jack had a bad habit of taking the sack when he should have thrown the ball away. He dug in, and now I faced the blitz with him.

  I couldn’t.

  A million dollars?

  My own PR company?

  God, he was buying a child from me. What was more insensitive—wanting a baby from me or insinuating that love was irrelevant to the beginning of a family? Sure, people had kids all the time without being married, but that wasn’t me.

  …Was it?

  Hadn’t I already got the paperwork? Considered finding a donor?

  Was my life so structured I’d break down into desperation if even one aspect fell out of place?

  I didn’t like those thoughts.

  I raced to the office and chose to bury myself in work. The article defaming Jack was running in a major sport magazine with high visibility for the critique of the wholesome, family atmosphere he tarnished by remaining in the league. The entire story was just a hit piece, meant to make him look bad.

  Granted, Jack was bad, but he wasn’t malicious, he only wanted to have fun.

  He was fun.

  And now I was defending him.

  Jolene’s light was on in her office. I rapped on her door. She hadn’t even gone home yet. The clock on her shelf chimed—eight PM. She warmed a Styrofoam cup of soup in the microwave and juggled two phones and a laptop between two different conversations. One call ended, but she didn’t have the free hands to hang up.

  I rushed to help as a stack of folders, newspapers, and paper coffee cups fell. She yelled at whoever was on the other end of her cell, ended the call, and lost the phone somewhere in the disaster of her desk.

  “Everything okay?” I asked.

  “Bryo
n Washington has three sexual harassment suits against him. His agent is about to drop him, and he wants me to smooth this over.” Jolene sipped her soup, burned her lip, and pitched the whole cup in the garbage. “This will be a long night.”

  “Did Frank Bennett get involved?”

  Jolene frowned. “Bennett’s crusade is with your Trouble-Maker, not Bryon.”

  “But…Bryon’s actually been arrested.”

  “Doesn’t matter. A quarterback is an easier target than a running back. Do me a favor. I need you to call the airlines and cancel my ticket.”

  My heart broke for her. “But you’ve been planning the Hawaii trip all year.”

  She stretched to reach a discarded highlighter. “Maybe Bryon will take me to the game if he makes the All-Star team this year. I might get a seat next to you.”

  “What?”

  Jolene smirked. “You and Jack. Jack will probably be voted as an MVP. It’d be good for the two of you to take that vacation when the season ends.”

  The air got stuck somewhere between my mouth and lungs. I coughed it out. “Why?”

  Jolene extended her arms over the mess that was her desk, her office, her undone braid, and the soup spilling in her garbage can.

  “One day, all this will be yours. I haven’t had a vacation in five years, and it doesn’t look like I’ll get one this year either. You wanted to travel, right?”

  “I…yes.”

  “Do it while you’re young, Leah. Before you get too entrenched in this career and then the kids.”

  “Kids?”

  “Yes, kids. You said you wanted three. Leah, what’s wrong with you? You’re acting strange.”

  “You haven’t had a vacation in five years?”

  “I go for the occasional mani-pedi day, but running a business is 24/7.” She winked. “I take back everything I said about you and Jack. I’m glad you’re sowing some oats now. I haven’t been on a date since…” She grimaced. “Well, before that last vacation.”

  Oh, no no no.

  This wasn’t what I wanted to hear.

  I knew Jolene was busy, but I thought she liked being that way. I had no idea she was this frazzled—canceling vacations that cost her thousands of dollars, losing her chance to date and see the world…

  But it didn’t make sense to equate her life with mine. We were different people. We wanted different things.

  Right?

  I retreated to my office and called the airline for her. The ticket was un-refundable—as was the deposit on her hotel—and it wasn’t the news she wanted to hear.

  “Let this be a lesson to you.” Jolene gathered two bags and a laptop. “This career is tough, but it’s good that you know exactly what you want. Hold onto that. As the years pass, you’ll lose that young, wide-eyed innocence about the world. Don’t let it turn you bitter.” She shoved most of her work into her bags to take home. “Hit the lights when you leave.”

  I didn’t answer. I returned to my desk, staring at the papers and folders that cluttered the top corner. I should have filed them before I left for Jack’s, but I had been…

  Too busy.

  I opened the bottom drawer and pulled out the information from the fertility clinic—notes on the procedure, costs, and donors. My chest tightened, but I tossed it right in the garbage.

  It wasn’t happening to me.

  My life goal was already ruined because of Wyatt’s infidelity. I couldn’t waste another second hoping to get my ideal life without working for it. It was time to regain that stability I lost when I handed him my engagement ring.

  But the only way I’d succeed was if I ended the charade with Jack so I could find that right man for a perfect life.

  Except, I had no idea where to find that man.

  Worse, I feared my body wouldn’t warm for anyone like it did for Jack.

  But that sort of physical, feral passion hadn’t mattered to me before. I couldn’t let it influence my relationships now. My decision was final. In the morning, I’d arrange news of an amiable breakup and we’d go our separate ways.

  But I didn’t sleep well. I wished it was the humbling revelation about the job and its demands, but it wasn’t that. I woke, took a shower, and tried to ignore the parts of Jack’s plan that no longer sounded so crazy.

  In fact…they sounded good.

  My own company? A baby? These were the things I had always wanted. I never thought lust was important until I writhed in fierce desire. I couldn’t remember a time Wyatt ever gave me an orgasm with his mouth. Or even when he last tried.

  And Jack dove at me twice. Wanted to pleasure me. To watch me come. To have me.

  All the more reason to get away from him before the rest of my structured, orderly life tumbled down.

  I pulled into the facility before the Rivets’ scheduled practice began. A school bus parked out front, and a news crew broadcasted for the league sponsored charity event.

  I didn’t know what I planned to say to Jack, or if he would even listen. Fortunately, I had time to think before I could flag him down.

  Two dozen kids screamed, laughed, and bolted around the field, dodging players and smuggling footballs and generally tumbling all over themselves. Their excitement was too cute, especially as they bumbled the instructions given from players tasked with trying to teach them the game. Coach Thompson struggled to keep their attention. Even my teddy-bear, Caleb, lost his cool and sought refuge with the linebackers laughing at their plight.

  Only one player successfully wrangled the kids. He tussled with them on the field and pretended to fall in a crazed tackle as a pile of little boys leapt over him.

  Jack.

  His laugh carried over the field, and he took turns tossing ball after ball to the kids he’d send running long. The balls were thrown gently, but, after over a dozen passes, only one kid managed to catch it.

  And Jack shouted as if it were the winning touchdown of the championship game.

  “Run!” He sprinted down the field, cheering the boy as he ran at his side to the endzone. “Keep going! He’s at the twenty! The ten…still at the ten, don’t tie your shoe! Run!”

  The little boy crossed the plain. Jack lost it. He hauled the kid onto his shoulders and did an endzone dance with him. I hoped he didn’t plan to spike the boy in excitement, but Jack was too thrilled to do anything but celebrate.

  The other kids went insane—like they never had so much fun in their lives. When their camp director blew his whistle and ordered them to the bus, most of the kids stayed at Jack’s side, begging for another few minutes.

  I grinned as Jack begged too.

  He was a natural with them. He said he liked kids, but I hadn’t believed it until I saw it. I snapped a few pictures of him playing with the children and posted to his social media. Within seconds, dozens of comments popped up. After five minutes, he was in the hundreds.

  The public liked this version of Jack Carson. The gentle giant. The wholesome man. It was the side of him the media never showed.

  He was right.

  A baby would save his reputation.

  He caught me watching and waved.

  “Stay there!” He shouted. He turned to the kids. “Ready?”

  They screamed in unison and scared half of the team. Jack punted the ball forty yards down the field to get rid of them. They sprinted away, and he jogged to meet me.

  “Hey.” He didn’t try to kiss me, even though he loved making me squirm in front of his teammates. “I tried to call you last night—”

  “You were right.”

  I didn’t apologize for interrupting him. Instead I took his hand.

  “I think we should do it.”

  “Do what?” His eyes widened. The blue almost looked innocent despite the intent of our proposal. His words hushed. “You…want to do it?”

  “Yes.”

  “…Are you sure?”

  “No, but I think it’s exactly what I need to do.”

  His hand slipped to my cheek, entirely clo
se and intimate. This touch was genuine, and his excitement pounded his heart so hard I could feel it in his palm.

  “You’re on board?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  His smile grew. “Do you want to do it now?”

  I laughed, glancing over the field. “You’re at practice.”

  “I’ll leave.”

  “Jack.”

  “Okay.” That smirk might have charmed my pants off right then and there. “You’re serious though. This isn’t a joke?”

  I held his hand against my cheek. “Jack…let’s have a baby.”

  Chapter Eight – Jack

  For the first time in my life, I wanted something more than a championship.

  I wanted Leah.

  I wanted her on the bed. Legs spread. Fingers digging into my body. I imagined her panting, moaning, offering that wet little slit for me to pound and seize.

  I’d fill her. Completely. As soon as I got her alone, I’d take her as a man was meant to have a woman.

  And I’d fuck a baby into her.

  I couldn’t concentrate at practice, and I nearly got myself killed in the weight room. My head wasn’t on the game. I already celebrated what I’d do to Leah. She’d love every fucking second I ruined her with pleasure and stuffed her with my cum.

  Seed?

  Technically. Who cared what it was called as long as it pumped into her.

  I headed to her apartment at her request, but we wouldn’t be staying. No way was I keeping her in a one bedroom box with a bigger radiator than stove. She’d stay with me.

  In my bed.

  In my arms.

  Full of my heat.

  She opened the door, but I hadn’t expected the cute little tank and sweatpants. I read the lettering over her tight little ass as she waved me inside. She was as Sweet as her pants declared, but not now. Leah was all business, brandishing a variety of papers, folders, and brochures.

  “I’m glad you’re here,” she said. “I pulled some information off the internet. I think I found a way to do this right.”

  She left me in the doorway. Not what I expected. I watched her bite the end of a pencil before furiously scribbling over her notes.

  Why was she taking notes?

  “You…uh, gotta research it?” I closed the door behind me. “I mean, if you need me to explain how this is done, we might have a bit of a problem…”