BULL: A Secret Baby Sports Romance

by B. B. Hamel

  The world could be a dark place, and right now, Brooks was the only good thing in it, or at least I hoped he was good.

  When three rolled around, I found myself getting up and going back into his closet. I took out that gun, and although I knew it wasn’t loaded, it made me feel safe. I didn’t know what I’d do with it, probably just throw it at someone.

  As I carried the empty gun out into the living room, the apartment door shuddered. I took a step back and stared as the lock slowly opened and the handle twisted.

  The door flung open. I raised the empty gun, horrified.

  Brooks practically fell into the room, his face twisted in pain. I let the gun drop as I ran to his side.

  “What happened?” I asked, trying to help support his weight.

  “Job went bad,” he grunted. “Fuck, I’m in a lot of pain. Help me to the kitchen.”

  He leaned on me as we limped together. I sat him down on a chair and he groaned in pain.

  “Where are you hurt?”

  “Chest.” He took his shirt off and I stared at the bulletproof vest. He showed me the two bullets lodged in the vest, one near his heart, the other lower down.

  “Come on, let’s get this off.”

  He grimaced as he unstrapped the vest. I helped him gingerly pull it off, his breath coming in shallow and fast. I could see the pain on his face, but he was trying to hide it.

  Finally, we got the vest and his shirt off. I stared at the large, blooming black bruises along his skin.

  “Shit,” I said. “This looks bad.”

  “You don’t have to tell me that,” he said. “I can fucking feel it.”

  “What happened?”

  I went into the cabinets and finally found a clean towel. He sighed, shaking his head.

  “You don’t need to know.”

  “You got shot, Brooks,” I said. “I feel like I need to know.”

  “Job went bad. That’s all.”

  I sat back down next to him and began to dab gently at the cuts all over his face. He flinched back.

  “Relax,” I said. “I just need to clean this up.”

  “You a nurse or something?”

  “Not exactly,” I said. “I used to take care of my dad a lot. Unsurprisingly, drunks get hurt all the time.”

  “He ever get shot?”

  “Only once.”

  He looked away. “Sorry.”

  I shrugged. “I’m not.” I dabbed at his cuts, trying to be gentle.

  “What was it like, living with him?”

  “Not great,” I said. “He was a violent piece of shit, but that wasn’t the worst part. He was controlling and stole most of my money.”

  “Why didn’t you get out of there?”

  I clenched my jaw. “It’s not that easy,” I said. “He was my father. I couldn’t just leave him to die in a puddle of his own vomit.”

  “Maybe you should have.”

  “Maybe, but I didn’t. Plus, I tried to leave, but every time I had enough money saved, he’d find it and gamble it away.”

  “Been a hard life,” he grunted.

  “Yeah, and it’s not looking much better right now.”

  He nodded. “I know about hard lives. Yours isn’t done just yet.”

  “I have no friends, Brooks. Most of my friends either drifted away, went to college, or got sick of me constantly dealing with my insane father. It’s hard to be optimistic.”

  He grinned at me despite the pain. “You got me,” he said.

  “Oh great. I have a complete stranger who kills people for a living.”

  “Better than the alternative.”

  “Which is what?”

  “Being dead, probably.”

  I laughed and stood up. “Maybe.” I went over to the freezer and opened it. I began to pile ice into the towel. “How’d you end up as a killer anyway? They take auditions, read your resume?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “So how then?”

  He looked away as I sat back down and pressed the ice against his bruised body.

  “The Barone family took me in when I was young and had nothing else. They taught me things, how to shoot and how to get away with it, how to stalk my prey, that sort of thing. Turned out I was good at it.”

  “They just stuck a gun in your hand then?”

  “More or less. There’s a man named Gian, a boss in the family. Back then he was just running a local crew. He took me in and trained me, and he brought me up through the ranks as he climbed.”

  “So you had a patron in violence.”

  “Yeah,” he said, smiling. “Something like that.”

  “Here. Hold this,” I said, taking his hand and pressing it against the towel.

  I felt something rush through me as he looked at me, his eyes intense and hungry. His hand pressed against mine sent chills down my spine as I imagined what this killer, this man, could do with those hands. I realized that I was dripping wet.

  “Have you thought about my offer?” he asked softly, his voice deep and smooth.

  “What offer?”

  “To make you feel good,” he said. Lightning struck my body. “I can make that body bend over, your skin on fire with pleasure.”

  “I haven’t thought about it at all,” I lied.

  He smirked at me. “I doubt that. You’ve been thinking about what my thick cock would feel like between your legs. You want to slide that wet cunt down my length and shiver as I fuck you deep and rough.”

  “You’re in no condition to be doing any of that,” I said, standing quickly and pulling my hand away.

  “I think you’d be surprised by what I’m capable of,” he said.

  I walked away from him, grabbing another towel. I began to fill it with ice again.

  “I think your ribs are broken,” I said.

  “They’re not.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I’ve had broken ribs before. This isn’t that bad.”

  I sighed and handed him the other ice towel. “Okay then. You’re the expert on getting your ass kicked, I guess.”

  “That I am.”

  He took the ice and pressed it against the other bruise.

  “Look at you,” he said. “You’re practically dripping where you stand. Did I excite you so much that you need to run away?”

  “I’m not running away,” I said.

  “Sure you are. You can’t handle how badly you want me to suck that pussy until you can’t stand.”

  “I’d rather you not bleed all over me.”

  “All I hear are excuses, but no denial. We both know what you want. I can see it in your eyes.”

  “Good night, Brooks,” I said, turning away.

  “Night then, Emma. Sweet dreams. Go touch that little pussy of yours and think about me.”

  I flipped him off and then went into the bedroom, shutting the door behind me.

  I took a deep breath, trying to get myself together. What the hell was wrong with me? Brooks was a killer and a kidnapper. But he’d also saved my life, and he made me feel something I’d never experienced before. Chills ran down my spine, and my body reacted to his every word. It was like I had no control over myself when that man started talking dirty to me.

  I undressed and got into bed and couldn’t help but do exactly what he’d told me to do. I slipped my hands down my panties and closed my eyes tight as I began to touch myself, thinking about Brooks.

  I couldn’t help myself. I wanted him, despite hating that I needed him. I hated that another man was protecting me, owning me. I wanted to get away, but I also wanted him to take me.

  I wanted him to press me back up against the door, kiss my neck and lips, his hands rushing down along my skin. He’d hike up my skirt and find my pussy, dripping wet. I could only guess at the dirty things he’d have to say about that.

  And of course he’d begin to work my pussy, just like I was touching myself in bed, thinking about him. I imagined him pressing his fingers deep inside me, kissing my lip
s, grinning at me with that delicious smile. He’d work me hard and fast, my hands gripping his shoulders, my whole body shaking as he pressed himself against me. I could practically feel his warm breath against my skin as I rubbed my own clit, imagining that my fingers were his.

  And as I got to the point where I couldn’t take it anymore, he’d turn me around, force me over, spread my legs, and get down on his knees. He’d peel my panties down and then lick my pussy from behind, getting me soaked and squirming.

  Then he’d stand and press his thick cock deep inside me.

  I felt my own fingers press inside as I worked myself, biting my lip, my eyes closed shut. Brooks would fuck my tight pussy from behind, working me, whispering in my ear. I’d never been taken before, but he’d know exactly what to do. He’d command me easily, make me work my hips as he slid his cock deep inside me.

  The thought of him fucking me from behind, working my clit and whispering orders in my ear, sent me over the edge. The orgasm overtook me, my legs shaking, and I couldn’t get that grinning face from my mind.

  I finished and lay back, panting. I couldn’t believe I’d just gotten myself off in his bed with him right out there. He probably heard me moaning even though I was trying to be quiet.

  I couldn’t let myself want him. I needed to be free, needed to be strong. I had to get out of this situation, and I had to do it soon. I couldn’t rely on Brooks or anyone.

  I drifted off to sleep, angry at myself, but still wanting to dream of him.

  9

  Brooks

  I woke up late, and my fucking body hurt like a bitch. I sat up and groaned as pain flooded me.

  “Morning.”

  I looked up and saw Emma sitting in the kitchen, sipping a mug of coffee.

  “How long have you been there?” I asked.

  “Not long,” she said. “Didn’t want to wake you up.”

  I sat all the way up, grimacing. “You got more of that coffee?”

  “Sure.” She got me a mug, poured some, and brought it over.

  “Thanks.”

  I put my feet on the ground and sipped the coffee. “Take it easy,” she said. “You need to heal.”

  “I don’t have time for that.”

  She smiled. “I don’t think you have a choice.”

  I pushed off against the couch and attempted to stand, but a sharp jolt of pain ran through my side, sending me collapsing back onto the couch.

  “Stop,” she said, coming over. “You’re going to hurt yourself.”

  I shrugged her off and then stood up, hiding the pain from my face. “See? No problem.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Such a tough man.”

  “Damn right I am.”

  Just then I heard the phone start ringing. She went back into the kitchen and sat down, studiously ignoring me as I walked over to the phone and grabbed it.

  “Yeah?” I grunted.

  “Shit, you’re alive.”

  “Dante?”

  “The one and only.”

  I blinked, surprised. The last time I saw him, he was hiding in the alleyway as the Spiders advanced on us. I didn’t see him get out and was just assuming that he’d died in the fight.

  But apparently not.

  “Glad to hear you’re still with us, Brooks,” he said.

  “You too.”

  “Come to the deli. We have shit to discuss.”

  “Now isn’t a good time.”

  “You think I fucking care? See you soon.” He hung up.

  I frowned at the phone and then tossed it onto the couch.

  “Boss mad?” Emma asked.

  “Something like that.”

  “Are you going out again?”

  I nodded. “Yeah.”

  “Okay. Have fun.”

  I gave her a look and then went into the bedroom. I quickly got changed, wished I could shower, and then tucked my gun into my waistband. I made sure it was loaded first.

  “Stay here,” I said to her.

  “Where would I go?”

  I opened the door and stepped out. She gave me a lingering look that made my cock half hard.

  I’d heard her last night. Lying in the dark on the couch, I’d heard her soft moans coming through the thin bedroom door. I knew she was thinking about me, knew she couldn’t help it, but despite that, she put a wall up between us.

  I understood. I was some stranger who had stolen her away and upended her life. Even if I’d saved her from a shitty life and a shitty death, I was still a killer, the guy who had murdered her father. There was no getting around that fact.

  But she still fucking wanted me. The girl had been touching that nice little pussy in my bed, thinking about my thick cock fucking her deep and rough. I hadn’t been able to help but jerk myself off, imagining those full lips wrapped around my cock.

  Fuck I wanted to feel her tight cunt. I wanted to wrap that pussy around my cock, fuck her deep and rough, and then make her swallow every bit of my come. I bet she sucked dick like she was born for it, especially with those lips. She was fucking fierce and sexy as hell, and I wasn’t even sure that she realized it.

  As I got into my car and drove out to the deli, I knew I should try to get my mind right. Some fucking shady shit had happened last night with the Spiders, and there was a lot I couldn’t figure out.

  But instead of wondering about that, I just kept thinking about Emma. She was the real problem in my life. I didn’t know what to do with her, and really I should have killed her already. Soon Dante was going to ask for a body, though I suspected this shit with the Spiders bought me a little extra time.

  I wasn’t going to kill her. That wasn’t an option. But I still didn’t know how to keep both of us alive. Maybe we could go on the run, but I doubted she’d be willing. She’d have to stay close to me, listen to everything I told her, and it would be a lot of time before she was free again. The mafia didn’t forget easily, so we’d have to stay hidden together. She could barely wait a few days in my apartment; I couldn’t imagine what it would be like living in hiding with her.

  But fuck if I didn’t want that anyway. I could only imagine all the different ways I could get her off. I could practically hear the way she’d beg my name, needing me to fuck her deeper and harder.

  I pulled up outside the deli, my cock hard, and had to take a few deep breaths to calm myself down.

  Hard on subsided, I climbed out and opened the back door of the building. I stepped into the familiar back room and looked around.

  Dante was sitting alone at the table. His eye was black and his arm was in a bloody sling.

  “You look like shit,” I said.

  “You do too.”

  I shrugged and grimaced. “How’d you get out of there?” I joined him at the table. The deli up front was pretty busy, but the staff knew not to come into the back when Dante was there.

  “Not ashamed to admit that I hid underneath a dumpster.”

  “So that’s what that smell is.”

  He smirked. “Good one. Those fucking Spiders, man. They tore us to pieces.”

  “How many did we lose?”

  “Six,” he said. “Everyone else is injured.”

  “I got shot twice in the fucking chest. Vest saved my life.”

  “What happened to you?”

  “Pushed those cars out and tried to escape, but I took those bullets, like I said. When I woke up, I was lying facedown on the sidewalk and everyone was gone, except the bodies, of course.”

  He nodded. “They must have thought you were dead.”

  “Yeah, well, lucky me. I got up and walked the fuck away from there as fast as I could.”

  “That shit with the cars, that was good work.”

  “Thanks.” I leaned back in the shitty folding chair and crossed my arms. “Figured someone had to do it.”

  “Seriously, Brooks. That sort of shit is why Gian is so impressed with you.”

  “Anything to impress him.”

  Dante grinned at me. “You w
ant to move up in this organization, right? Maybe get my job one day?”

  I nodded guardedly. “Sure. One day.”

  “Then you need to play ball, Brooks. This shit with you refusing to kill women, it just looks bad.”

  “I’m not sure I give a fuck how it looks.”

  Dante laughed. “See, that’s why I like you, big fucking balls.”

  “Why’d you call me down here, Dante?”

  “I got another job for you.”

  I cringed. “I’m not exactly up for a kill right now.”

  “Not a kill, although it is something of a hunt.”

  “Spit it out, Dante.”

  He reached into his pocket and pulled out a long cigar. I watched as he took his time unwrapping it, cutting it, and lighting it. It was such a stupid fucking power play, but I sat there patiently anyway.

  He puffed on his cigar. “We got most of the girls back last night,” he said. “Spiders took a few, and a few others are missing. It’s your job to figure out if they’re still loose in the city or if the Spiders took them.”

  The memory of those girls came back to me. I’d let them go. Hell, I’d made them run away. Now Dante wanted me to hunt them down.

  “Fine,” I said. “That all? Find a bunch of lost hookers?”

  “That’s it. Gian wants them found and brought back if you can. Kill them if you can’t.”

  “Why not have someone else do it?”

  Dante puffed again, blowing smoke toward me. “Because I fucking want to see you do it, Brooks. That okay?”

  “Guess so.”

  “It’s going to have to be. Find the fucking girls. Bring them back, dead or alive.” He laughed.

  I stood up. “You got it.” I turned to leave.

  “How’s your little prize doing?” Dante asked.

  I turned slowly back toward him. I’d been hoping he’d forgotten about that, but apparently not. “Why?”

  “Was wondering if she’s dead yet or if you’re the long and slow type.”

  “She’s taken care of.”

  He gave me a look. “She better be, Brooks.”

  “We done now?”

  “We’re done. Good luck.”

  I turned and left, pushing back out through the door.