Hard Man: A Secret Baby Sports Romance (Bad Ballers Book 1)

by S. J. Bishop

  But I saw that the doctor wasn't done just yet. There was more. And it was bad.

  "Can I see him?" Clarissa asked, so happy her father was still alive that she completely missed the doctor's grave expression.

  "Ms. Walker...your father is in a coma."

  "A coma?" she gasped, her face turning white. Her eyes fluttered once before she fell to the floor in a dead faint.

  27

  Clarissa

  My eyes opened to a dark room. A sliver of light from the hallway beamed in through a crack in the door. I looked around at the shadows on the walls. I had no idea where I was.

  There was a loud snore from a corner of the room, and I turned my head slowly in its direction. Lars sat in a chair, his head leaning against the wall as he slept. Everything came back to me at once. The hospital. My father. My fight with Lars. Discovering that Madeline had betrayed our friendship. There were so many things hurting me right now that I didn't know which one was currently making me cry.

  A nurse walked into the room, and suddenly the light from the hallway was hitting my eyes. I wiped my tears away. She saw that I was awake and smiled softly at me, flipping on the light switch. The overhead lights were even worse than the ones from the hall. I looked over at Lars to see if he'd woken up, but he was still snoring. One of his tattoos, I think it was the tail of a dragon, poked out from under his shirt at the base of his neck.

  "Hello," the nurse said. "How are you feeling?"

  I sat up, taking deep breaths as my head throbbed with pain. "Okay, I think. What happened?"

  "You fainted." The nurse came around and started checking my vitals, taking my pulse and listening to my heart. "You seem alright, now. You were a little dehydrated. You need to eat something."

  I shook my head. "I'm not hungry."

  "Yeah but it's not just for you, is it?"

  My heart thumped once in my chest. "What do you mean?"

  "Well, you're eating for two, aren't you?" She was smiling at me as she went about her business.

  "Wh-what makes you say that?" I couldn't believe this woman was talking to me so casually about my pregnancy. I hadn't told anyone except Madeline. Fuck! I'd forgotten all about that until this very moment. Why had I opened my big mouth and told her anything at all? Why hadn't I been able to see through all her bullshit?

  If my father hadn't been in a coma, I would have been able to focus all of my energy on being pissed off at Madeline. As it was, I had to split my energy between anger at her and anger at...I wasn't sure anymore. It didn't make sense to be so angry with Lars when it turned out that he hadn't done anything to Madeline, after all. Still, he had been the cause of my father leaving our house when he did, which had led to his accident. I looked at him again as his mouth opened and he let out an extra loud snore.

  "Is he the father?" the nurse asked.

  "What?" I gasped. She was just trying to make conversation. She had no idea that asking me these questions was opening up a door I wasn't ready to go through. I supposed that most women were happy to talk about their pregnancy.

  The nurse looked at me, and there must have been something in my face that finally made her catch on. She looked at Lars, then back at me. "I'm sorry," she said, a little lower now. "I just assumed he was your husband."

  "Well he's not," I said, a little harsher than I'd meant to.

  She went about her work quietly now. I started to feel bad. She was only doing her job. I didn't need to make it harder for her.

  "I'm sorry," I mumbled. The nurse smiled at me and patted my arm.

  "It's alright. You're under a lot of stress right now. It's understandable. Perhaps if you had something to eat..."

  "I'm really not hungry," I told her again.

  "Are you nauseous?"

  "A little."

  "It's perfectly normal at this stage in your pregnancy. Food will help."

  "How did you know I was pregnant?" I asked her. "I've only told one person."

  "After you fainted, the gentleman who's with you insisted we run every test under the sun. It wasn't hard to figure out."

  "Oh. So...how did everything seem? Babywise?"

  She smiled. "It's a little early to tell all that yet, but for now, your baby seems perfectly healthy."

  I sighed, relieved to hear that and surprised by my relief. I turned my head and saw Lars looking at me. Sometime in the last few minutes, he'd woken up.

  28

  Lars

  "Hey," I said, blinking at Clarissa as my eyes adjusted. "You're awake."

  "So are you."

  She was looking at me as if she'd just seen a ghost. "You alright?"

  She nodded. A nurse who'd been checking her blood pressure shot me a glance and left the room. "Just buzz if you need anything," she said on her way out.

  "Sure. Oh, uh, do I have to stay in here? I can leave, right?"

  The nurse looked at Clarissa and said, "You're free to go, but stay as long as you need to." Then she turned her head toward me. "By the way, all the tests we ran came back just fine. This is one healthy lady you've got here." I could swear she winked at Clarissa on her way out and wondered if I was imagining things. It felt like I was missing something important. Some private joke I was being left out of. When the nurse was gone, Clarissa turned back to me, licking her lips.

  "Are you sure you're alright?" I asked her again, unconvinced. When she'd fainted, my heart had about stopped. I was constantly surprised by how protective I felt over her. I didn't want to leave her out of my sight for a moment. I was just glad that I'd caught her before her head hit the ground.

  "I'm fine," she said, but her face was a little too pale. "How long have you been awake?"

  I shrugged. "I don't know. A minute?"

  "A minute? Like... a full minute?"

  "I don't know. Why?"

  "I just wondered if you heard anything interesting."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Nothing," she said quickly, shaking her head. "I guess I was just, um, dreaming and thought you might've been having a weird dream too."

  I wasn't sure her answer made any sense but I didn't want to freak her out more than she already was by asking her needless questions. It was a little like walking on eggshells. Whatever was bothering her would only be made worse if I interrogated her. Besides, it was probably nothing. It certainly wasn't as if she was short on reasons to be acting weird.

  "Let me take you home."

  "What?" she asked, loosing her look of fear.

  "Home," I repeated. "You need to relax. Get some real sleep. Some food."

  "Why does everyone keep trying to feed me?" she snapped.

  I couldn't help chuckling as I stood up and stretched out my arms.

  "Because you need some strength to keep up that gorgeous body of yours. One I'm becoming more and more attached to."

  She blushed furiously. "I'm not going anywhere until I see my father and know that he's okay."

  "So," I said, reaching out one hand toward her, "let's go see him."

  She hesitated, then took my hand and rose from the bed.

  We found the redheaded nurse, whose name turned out to be Blair, at the nurse's station. She gushed a bit about the Giants while Clarissa filled out some forms for her release—technically anyone in a hospital bed had to be released—then directed us toward Coach Walker's room.

  We pushed the door open slightly and peeked inside. A series of blurps and bleeps shot out at us, piercing our eardrums. He looked bad. A large ventilator lay near him. Seeing him in that hospital bed, technically alive but battered and breathing through a tube, drove a range of emotions through me, from sadness to anger to joy. I was glad that he was alive but wracked with guilt over how he'd gotten here in the first place.

  "He's been like a father to me," I mumbled. "The only one I've ever known."

  "What?" Clarissa whispered. I don't know why we were both being so quiet. It wasn't as if we would accidentally wake him by talking too loudly.

  "Nothing,"
I said, shaking my head. Her hand clasped around mine, grasping me so tightly she almost crushed my fingers. I was surprised to find her grip was almost as strong as some of the younger players on the team.

  "He loves you like a son," she told me now. I felt tears welling in my eyes for the second time that night and tried desperately to push them away. "That's why he was asking the nurses for you when he first got here, before he lost consciousness. He wanted to know that you were okay."

  One thick tear dripped down my cheek. It pissed me off that it was there. I wiped it away. "I can't look at him like this," I told her. "He's stronger than this." I guess it was her turn to comfort me. She put her hand on my elbow and guided me toward the door.

  "Let's go," she said. We left the hospital feeling exhausted. The cool night air felt good against our skin. I caught some movement out of the corner of my eye, and when I turned my head, I could have sworn I saw Marco Rossi dart into the shadows of the parking garage. I hoped I was imagining things. Marco Rossi was one of Angelo's top henchmen, and I wanted nothing to do with him. If he was here, it spelled trouble for whomever he came in contact with. I hoped Angelo hadn't sent him to spy on me. I wondered for the hundredth time now what I'd been thinking climbing back into bed with a career criminal like Angelo. I watched the shadows a moment longer but didn't see Marco again. Maybe I'd imagined him.

  We drove back to Clarissa’s house with the radio blasting, trying to cheer ourselves with some golden oldies. It didn't work. Walking inside, we were immediately engulfed with silence. It was as quiet as a graveyard.

  "Want some coffee?" she asked.

  "No, thanks." I stared out the windows into the dark sky, lit by a million stars. "What time is it?" I suddenly asked, realizing I didn’t have a clue.

  She looked at her phone. "Two."

  That meant it was officially the next day. A new day. A day to set things right. Starting with Clarissa.

  I walked across the room to her in two large strides and pulled her to me. My mouth found hers, binding us tightly together as our tongues collided. She was warm and wet and sensual, everything a woman should be. And she wasn't resisting.

  "I don't want to hurt you again," I told her, forcing myself to pull away long enough to get the words out. I'd never told a woman that I cared for her before—I hadn't met a woman that I had cared about...before Clarissa—and I wasn't sure how to say it now. "I...I never meant..."

  "Just shut up and kiss me, Lars."

  29

  Clarissa

  It wasn't just that I wanted Lars. It was that I needed him. I needed to forget about everything that had happened today, and so did he.

  I closed my eyes and immersed myself in the feel of his smooth skin beneath my fingertips. His sculpted body was hot to the touch. If he'd been a radiator, I would have burned myself. I began exploring him, spreading my long, lithe fingers as I skimmed the hard layers of his abdomen.

  His breath blew against my skin like a fan pushing hot air. From the moment his lips touched mine, a wild wave of passion rolled from my head all the way down to my toes and back up again. His firm, soft lips kissed me with furious intensity, demanding more of me than anyone before him ever had. His tongue slid along my upper lip before moving further down my body, concentrating the rough texture of his taste buds on the nape of my neck as he licked the moist, salty steam seeping from my skin. My knees quivered at the enticing invasion of his open lips.

  I wrapped my arms around him for support, not wanting to fall for a third time tonight. His strong arms lifted me without effort, carrying me up the stairs.

  "Do you know where you're going?" I purred.

  "No, but it doesn't matter. I want you so bad right now, I could fuck you on these stairs."

  "Put me down then and stop wasting time."

  He set me gently on my feet at the top of the landing. I pulled his shirt over his head and stared in shock at the chest before me. I had pictured it a thousand times in my head since meeting him. That night in the alley hadn't prepared me for this. The hard planes of his chest were like airplane runways calling me in. I reached out with my velvet soft tongue and lapped at his skin, not caring how animalistic the behavior was, only wanting to taste him from navel to neck.

  My tongue moved in long, slow strokes over his taut, coppery-brown skin. His muscles rose and fell in giant waves as he exhaled, and I sailed with him whichever direction he went. The bedroom was just down the hall, but there was no time for it. I tried not to whimper as he pressed his core against me. His cock was already rock hard, waiting for me to free it from the confines of his pants. I ran my fingertips over the fabric of his jeans, teasing the bulge there by stroking my fingers firmly against it, then laying off and touching him with feather-light fingertips, then stroking him hard once again.

  My panties were damp and only grew more moist and hot as urgency consumed me. He rolled his hips against mine, pressing our cores together. But the fabric of our clothing still separated us. I needed to feel his flesh against mine.

  "Undress me," I whispered. His fingers dug into my back, making me itch for more of him.

  He lifted my hands over my head, tracing his strong fingers up over my skin from my underarm to my fingertips, before pulling my shirt over my head and tossing it onto the floor. My bra came next. The black lace I'd worn was sexy and appetizing, but I wanted my freedom from it. He saw the desperation in my eyes and kissed me deeper as his hands wrapped around my back and unfastened the clasps.

  My bra fell to the floor, and my breasts were fully exposed to him now. He didn't need to wait for my invitation. His mouth moved to my perfect, pink nipples. He opened wide and placed his lips gently over me, swirling his tongue over my dark pink points. He started with my right breast, moving to my left only when my right nipple was perfectly erect. He concentrated all of his efforts on making my nipple hard and round, flicking his tongue against me like a cat lapping at a saucer of milk.

  I groaned and arched my back, my thighs clenching. "Stop teasing and fuck me already." His tongue slid between my breasts, silky warm as he swept it downward toward my navel. He slipped it inside my belly button, moving it in and out until I thought I might cum from him mouth fucking my belly button.

  The time he'd fucked me outside the bar had been foreplay compared to this. I could see the bottled up lust in his eyes as his arousal rubbed against me, a primal urge not unlike my own filling his entire body. I hooked my thumbs around his belt loops and pushed his pants to the floor while he did the same with mine.

  He spun me around, pressing my back against the wall, flesh against flesh. His cock was rock solid as he began to grind his body against me, using my wetness to make himself slick. I could feel his throbbing pulse as he pressed his tip to my opening. Slowly, deliberately, he inched his way inside me. I kissed his wet lips, tasting the sweet-salty sweat that had broken across his skin. His heart beat fast and hard, skipping beats as I pressed my breasts harder against his chest.

  I knew that I could kiss him for days and still find some new part of him to explore. He slid the soft, heavy palm of his hand over my right thigh, pulling it up so that I could wrap it around him. I tightened my leg, curling it toward me like I was a snake and he was dinner. My legs trembled as he pushed deeper into me, rocking his hips faster now as he worked his way into my tight, wet pussy.

  I had to bite my lip to stifle a scream as his flesh engorged inside me, sending my head into a tailspin. My urgency evolved into something raw and base. I was being invaded. His cock was the first explorer on a new world, and each thrust, each pulse, was him probing me. I let out a loud groan as my muscles spasmed, buckling my knees and sending me down to the floor. He half-caught, half-fell with me, landing on top of me as the floor became our mattress.

  Never losing a beat, Lars pumped harder as he sought out new terrain deep inside my pussy. The floor was cool against my back as every pore on my body began to warm up, melting me from the inside out. My head began to spin as I watche
d his golden, polished ass moved up and down, up and down, pumping in and out of me with his massive piece of steel.

  "Oh God!" I cried out, unable to contain myself. A fresh succession of spasms rocked my body as my inner thighs clenched and my hole tightened around the base of his cock. He pushed his way past any obstacles and found his way deeper inside me still, his mass swelling from side to side as my wetness warmed him. His juice began to trickle out, heating my cave, until finally my mouth opened wide and my mind went blank. I was possessed by the basest parts of me, parts that had been hidden and tucked away for years. I wanted all of him, every last ounce. My pussy clenched as his juices spilled out of him, flowing freely through me and overflowing my cave.

  When I opened my eyes again, he was looking at me with something more than lust.

  "What?" I whispered, my body drained.

  "Nothing," he replied. "That was just the best sex of my life."

  I smiled at him, his lips inches from mine. "Just wait until next time."

  30

  Lars

  I waited until Clarissa was asleep before sneaking out of her bedroom to call Angelo. I was sick of this guilt hanging over my head. Fucking Clarissa had alleviated it for a time, but like a bad headache, it had come back worse than ever.

  I pulled my phone out as I stepped into the office across the hall from Clarissa's room. I softly closed the door and noted how silently it moved. It never even made a squeak. I thanked God for small favors as I made my way to the massive oak desk that dominated the room.

  The phone rang five times, and I was just wondering if I should try again later when a gruff voice picked up.

  "This better be good," Angelo growled into the phone, his voice thick with fatigue.

  Shit. Why hadn't I waited until morning? Four o'clock was hardly the right time to wake someone up with bad news. Especially when that someone was a fucking mob boss. But all I'd been able to think about since learning that Coach Walker was in the hospital was how I'd betrayed him. It hadn't occurred to me until I was lying in bed beside Clarissa, listening to the soft sound of her breath as she lay her head against my chest, that by betraying Coach, I had betrayed her as well. And two betrayals were two too many.