Hard & Deep: A Football Romance

by Krista Lakes

  She laughed, a fake laugh, almost cruel. "Oh, not me! I look great!" Tracy rubbed her hands down her body, accentuating her curves. "I was talking about you. I don't like what I see in you."

  His smile vanished. "What?"

  Tracy steeled herself. It was almost as if someone else was speaking through her body now. "Right now, I'm looking at something that disgusts me."

  He looked shocked, and began to struggle against his bonds a little. "Hey, if this your idea of foreplay, then you're pretty weird."

  She ignored him. "What I see is a helpless billionaire, tied to a bed, not in control at all. Just like he's a helpless billionaire, tied to a company, not in control at all."

  He struggled more. "Look, Tracy, I think we've had a misunderstanding. Untie me and I'll take you back home. We'll forget this ever happened."

  She felt like she might be losing control of the situation. She got to the foot of the bed, and touched his foot lightly. He relaxed a little bit.

  "I think I know what you want, but I want to hear it from you," she said.

  He looked flabbergasted. "What do you think I want? Why do you think I brought you to my bedroom?"

  She got up on the bed, moving her hands up his legs. "What do you want?" she asked again.

  He blinked, as if he couldn't believe he was being asked the question. "I want to fuck you, Tracy." He started to sound a little frantic.

  She frowned and grabbed his legs hard. "You want to please me?"

  He smiled and looked up at the ceiling, thinking that he finally caught on to the game. "Yes!" he said, sighing as he did so. He was starting to get worked up, unsure if he was about to be robbed, murdered, or have fantastic sex. "Yes, Tracy. Oh my god, yes, I could eat your pussy for days. I just want to please you."

  "Really? Because I don't think you can please me," she said.

  He got real quiet. Something inside of him had stirred, maybe déjà vu. He remembered the dream, she could tell. Suddenly the bulge in his pants grew in size, turned on by this woman in charge of him.

  "That's right. I've known what you wanted all along," she said, and unzipped his pants. He moaned a little as his cock sprang free from his pants. His cock was long and thick, and Tracy was sure that he was used to giving women the ride of their lives. It explained quite a bit of his confidence, she thought. She began to get wet just thinking about lowering herself onto that beautiful cock, but she forced herself to snap out of it.

  "What do you want?" she asked again.

  That cocky grin was back. "I want to please you," he said. His voice was very serious.

  "You'll never please me," she said, surprised that she had managed to get that line out as confidently as she had. The grin once again faded from Mr. Hayes' face. She grabbed onto his cock, holding it like she had in the dream. She didn't squeeze quite as hard as Dream Tracy had, but she was firm. He began to thrust into her hand, but she didn't do anything resembling a hand job to him.

  "What do you want?" she asked once more.

  "Oh God, Tracy, I want to fuck you. I want to please you. I'll do anything. Tell me what it is and I'll do it. Just let me do it."

  She let go of his dick, and climbed on top of him, straddling him. His cock thrust in the air, questing, trying to get to her still clothed pussy. A few times, it brushed against her panties, and she wanted to gasp, but she knew she had to remain in control. With her hands on his chest, she said, "That's not what you want. I know what you want, and it's not for you to take over from here." She paused for effect, then asked him the question again. "What do you want?"

  "I want you to take control," he said, shifting back and forth. His dick felt ready to explode, so hard behind her pussy and ass.

  "You want me to take control of... what?" she said, leading him to what she wanted him to say, what she knew he wanted to say.

  "I want you to take control of me!" he yelled.

  "Good," she said, her pussy leaning up against his cock now. Only that last little bit of fabric was stopping him. She could have sex with him now, get plowed for her own release, and it might still fit with her plan...

  Chapter 1

  Tracy Collins sighed to herself. Another month had passed, another month she was stuck here, doing this crummy job. She looked at her surroundings. In a fancy restaurant like this, a waitress should be making at least minimum wage. If not for the tips, she’d probably have to declare bankruptcy.

  What did I do to deserve this life? The thought haunted her, especially because she knew the exact reason she was stuck here. She had become too comfortable at medical school, maybe going to one too many late night trivia contests instead of slicing open cadavers. School and partying on top of working at this restaurant had caught up to her. Whatever the reason that she failed that last exam, she knew that she had nobody to blame but herself.

  Now she was stuck with a gigantic student loan bill. Six figures wasn't even the start of it, and due to the insane laws regarding student loans in these United States, she'd never get rid of them. Just the thought of how long it would be before she could claw her way out of that debt was enough to bring her to tears sometimes.

  She grabbed another set of napkins and sighed again. It didn't make her feel any better to have to clean up after a man who spent more money tonight than she could ever dream of. It was just more salt in the wound that was her life.

  Tracy knew it wasn't his fault – Mr. Hayes was the consummate professional at all times. The blonde floozy he had brought to dinner, however, had spilled half a bottle of thousand-dollar wine on the two of them, giggling the whole time. She had watched Mr. Hayes laugh it off, but on the inside, Tracy knew that he was fuming, and that this was probably the blonde's last trip to this restaurant.

  Of course, everyone in the restaurant knew all about Paul Hayes. Only a couple years older than Tracy, Mr. Hayes ran his own international company. Rumor had it that soon he would be one of the world's youngest self-made billionaires. The mere fact that he chose this restaurant over and over again put it on the map, with everyone from gawkers to businessmen wanting to get a shot at speaking to him.

  He loved to throw money around, and he had to be in control. Every time he came in, he insisted that Tracy be his waitress. And why not? she thought. She was the smartest and most competent waitress in the whole restaurant, not to mention one of the prettiest.

  He had often hinted, sometimes quite strongly, that Tracy could be one of his floozies if she wanted to be, but Tracy always smiled and easily managed to stop his advances. It’s not that she couldn’t do it, or even that she didn't want to hook up with the most alpha male in the entire city. It was a matter of being able to look at herself in the mirror every day.

  And not only that, right now she knew she had the advantage of being a mystery. She had no idea what Mr. Hayes wanted. She knew that if she slept with him and didn’t give him exactly what he wanted, he would be done with her, and probably with this restaurant as well. As much as a one night stand with a man worth that much sounded like fun, she had to think of her financial well-being.

  He was her biggest tipper and she couldn’t afford to trade the short-term high life for the long-term tip dollars that he could offer. It was a pragmatic decision which sometimes disgusted her, but she knew that everyone worked for someone else, and that she was no different than anyone else who made these types of decisions.

  The thing he wanted had to be something that none of these girls would give him, since he was with a different girl almost every time he came in. It surely couldn't be anything that Tracy could offer him, though. She was prettier than average, sure, but nowhere near as hot as some of these girls. If she got a little more desperate for money, though, then perhaps…

  She put the thought out of her mind, and finished closing down the restaurant. As she waved goodbye to her co-workers, she lost herself in ideas about how to make some fast money. Maybe she could start her own restaurant…

  Lost in her own thoughts, she didn't even see
the car barreling toward her. She didn't see him weaving, or hear the thunk of tires as he hit the curb before going back down on the street the first time. When she did happen to look up, she didn't even have time to scream as he hopped the curb to where she stood. Tracy tried to jump out of the way, but her head hit the car’s windshield and she tumbled over the top of the car. For a moment, she flew like an ungraceful bird before crash landing. She lost consciousness as she hit the sidewalk.

  The driver never even slowed down to see if she was okay.

  Chapter 2

  Tracy woke up a few hours later, feeling as if she couldn’t move. She might as well have been immobile, with all the wires on her and the IV in her. A nurse was in the room with her, and soon a doctor came to visit her.

  "Do you know how lucky you are, Tracy?" His tone was familiar, and she recognized him as one of her professors from medical school. Just one more reminder of my fuck ups, she thought.

  "Please, tell me how lucky I am," she said sarcastically, tenderly poking at the bandage on her head with a finger.

  He sighed. He clearly thought that this was all her fault. "You're bruised up pretty badly, but there's nothing broken. We were concerned about the head injury, but I think that even the scarring should go away pretty soon."

  She groaned a curse. A nice, scarred up face was a great way to ensure that she'd get less tips. She poked at the bandage again, this time wincing at the sting from the pressure.

  "Hey, don't do that," he snapped at her. Then he shook his head. "You've seriously got a guardian angel looking out for you."

  She stared at the expensive medical equipment beeping around her. Someone paged a doctor overhead. This was a total nightmare.

  "And how much is this guardian angel going to cost me?" she asked. Of course, she knew that the doctor had no idea. He didn't know she didn't have insurance. She had just been dropped from the school's health insurance and hadn't been able to afford any coverage since then.

  "Well, we'll worry about that in the morning,” he said, trying to sound comforting. “For now, you need to get some rest."

  "Please let the nurse know that I need my clothes and purse," Tracy said. "I can't stay here."

  The doctor froze. "You have to stay here for observation tonight. With a head injury that severe, we have to make sure that-"

  Tracy cut him off. "Unless you're paying for it, or unless you want to call the police to keep me here against my will, I'm leaving. I'm a waitress, and a night here will cost me weeks of salary. I cannot afford to stay here."

  He sighed, then scribbled on his clipboard. She knew he was writing something like Patient Combative or Not Responsible for Injury or something like that. She didn't care. She just had to get out of there.

  A long taxi ride (the price of which hurt her bruised pocketbook even more) brought her back home. She wondered how she would ever fall asleep being in as much pain as she was. But when the taxi dropped her off, she realized she could barely keep her eyes open. Must have been that pain medication they gave me, she thought.

  She managed to get inside and lock the door before stumbling to her bedroom and falling into bed. Instantly asleep, she dreamed strange dreams for a while, but eventually fell into a deep slumber.

  Tracy called in sick, or rather injured, to work the next day, but she knew she couldn’t take much time off. She agreed to come back in on Friday and Saturday night to make up for it, and she knew she’d be doing that an awful lot over the next few months. Kiss my social life goodbye, she thought to herself. She did her best to just lay in bed for the next three days, only moving to get food or go to the bathroom. Her dreams got stranger and stranger while she avoided human contact.

  On Friday night, she rousted herself out of bed, took some pain medication, and made it to work only fifteen minutes late. The manager, while mostly an uncaring prick, let it slide this one time, making it clear he thought he was doing her a huge favor. A great way to start the night, she thought.

  She was mostly slow and stiff doing her job, but she could do it. All of her bruises were gone. She had pulled her stitches out this morning, taking great care to do it the way she had learned to do it in medical school. Still, she had a small scar that ran from the edge of her right eyebrow to the middle of her forehead. It wasn’t too noticeable, and, in fact, she thought it looked kind of cool. She had thrown a little blush on to mask it, but otherwise she didn’t think it hurt her appearance at all.

  She was a little slow serving each of her first customers, but soon she was back into the swing of things, with just a little creak of pain here and there. At about eight, Mr. Hayes came in with a new young woman on his arm, a brunette who had a body to die for. Tracy showed the two of them to their table, and Mr. Hayes' date quickly excused herself to go to the bathroom while Tracy went to take the billionaire’s order.

  "Tonight, our wine pairing is-" Tracy started.

  Mr. Hayes cut her off. "Tracy, I hope you don't mind. When I heard what happened to you, I called the hospital to make sure that you were okay. The doctor wouldn't give me any information, but when they said that I couldn't come visit you, I assumed the worst." The way he made eye contact with her made it clear that he really cared, at least a little bit. He broke that eye contact to do a quick once-over of Tracy. "I'm happy to say that you still look fantastic."

  "Oh, thank you," Tracy said with a blush. "I’m actually fine, sir. I must be made of steel," she joked.

  "You know, if any of your medical bills are going to be an issue, I have a friend or two at the local Chamber of Commerce who might be able to help you out."

  "Really?" she asked, maybe with a little too much hope in her voice.

  "Yes, really. Why don’t you come back to my place with my date and I tonight? In the morning, we can talk it over."

  The tone of his voice betrayed exactly what they’d be "talking" about if she went home with him. Tracy’s hopes instantly deflated. It wasn’t that she didn't want to have sex with him, but she knew that if she went home with him tonight, she'd just be used up and thrown away in the morning. Who knew if he even had the connections he claimed to have? There was no doubt that he’d somehow pressure her into sleeping with him, and probably also with this other woman, if she went home with him.

  "I’m sorry, I’ve got to get home early tonight. Doctor’s orders. Maybe another night?" she asked, hoping it wouldn’t come to that.

  He honestly sounded a little disappointed by her answer. "Yes, of course. Another time." He looked down at his menu, then his eyes slowly crept up Tracy’s body. This time, he really was checking her out, as if taking a panoramic snapshot. Tracy let it happen, of course. After all, he was probably going to be her biggest tipper of the night, but it still felt demeaning.

  She expected him to stop at her tits, but he kept going, and they locked eyes again. Suddenly, Tracy felt a blinding flash from behind her eyes, and nearly lost her balance. She closed her eyes until the sensation went away, and opened them again when she heard his voice.

  "Are you okay?" he asked, the real concern back in his voice.

  "Yeah, just a little headache," she said, unsure of what had just happened.

  "Well, you make sure to take care of yourself. Think over my offer. I would love to help you out," he said, his emphasis clear. His date returned from the bathroom, and Tracy took their appetizer and wine order.

  The rest of the night went pretty much normally. The way the young bimbo looked at him, Tracy could tell that the girl was going to sleep with him that night. Knowing him, he’d probably be dumping her in the morning. Tracy didn't feel sorry for the woman, but she was glad that it wasn't her.

  At least tonight.

  At some point, she looked over at his table, and saw that he had left the restaurant without saying goodbye. He was probably so eager to tear into that sweet young thing that he hadn't stuck around any longer than he had to. She honestly hoped he had a great night, but now that he was gone, her energy seemed to leave her body.
Either that, or the pain medication was making her drowsy. She begged off the rest of the night, then went straight back home and went to bed.

  Her dreams started fitfully, making no real sense. She remembered flying through space, a bunch of plus signs coming out of nowhere, some swirls of light, and then:

  All of a sudden her dream became crystal clear. She was in a room, and the lights were dim. She looked down but only saw the floor where her feet should have been. I guess I’m just a disembodied set of eyes, she thought to herself. She looked around and saw a king-sized bed. She saw Mr. Hayes on it, naked. His details were fuzzier than the rest of the dream world, but she could still see his six-pack abs and huge pectorals.

  A woman sauntered out of the bathroom, dressed in black lingerie. Tracy looked closer and saw that the woman was her. Well, maybe not quite, but at least a close representation of her. Her hair was much darker, and her stare was much more intense than anything she could pull off. Other than that, it was her face and body. She came out and walked right to the foot of the bed. His eyes were fixated on her, and other than the bed, the rest of the room lost focus and faded away. Tracy watched with fascination as 'she' looked at him up and down.

  "You disgust me," she said, her voice deeper and huskier than Tracy's was in real life.

  "But I just want to please you," he said.

  "You'll never please me," she replied.

  "But-"

  "Get back down," she barked at him, and suddenly a pair of wraps materialized and tied his hands to the headboard.

  He laid there, paralyzed, as she crawled up on the foot of the bed. She moved her way up slowly, maintaining eye contact the entire time. He was getting visibly anxious, shifting back and forth a little as she made her way up to his cock. Suddenly Mr. Hayes' body came into focus, and his cock was rock hard. 'Tracy' grabbed it, and held it. She seemed to squeeze it, and for a moment Tracy thought she might break it in half. Instead, with eyes still locked on Mr. Hayes' eyes, she asked him a question.