Perfect Spiral (A Playing Dirty Sports Romance Book 2)

by Lane Hart

  “Here comes another contraction,” the doctor warns Callie, and I help her into a sitting position again. “Get ready to push in three, two, one…”

  “Ahhh!” Callie screams with effort, her entire face tomato red and pinched with pain.

  “There’s the head! Just one more big push, Callie. You’ve got it,” the doctor says as Callie grits her teeth and gets it done.

  “I love you, baby. You’re doing so great,” I tell her, covering her hand that’s squeezing the bed rail with mine.

  “It’s a girl!” the doctor exclaims before the sounds of a crying baby fill the air and Callie falls weakly back against the pillow.

  “A girl? We…we have a girl?” she looks at me and asks, crying because of the pain or the joy; I’m not sure which anymore.

  “A healthy girl,” the nurse says, handing over the baby wrapped in a blanket to Callie.

  “Aww, she’s beautiful! Hello my sweet girl,” Callie says to our daughter as she gazes lovingly down at her in wonder.

  “I knew it. A gorgeous girl, just like her mother,” I tell her, placing a kiss on Callie’s forehead. “You did it, baby. I know it wasn’t easy, and I’m so proud of you.”

  “It wasn’t so bad,” Callie replies with a smile, having apparently already forgotten the six previous hours of labor and hour of pushing she just endured. “Now I’m just tired.”

  “All you have to do now is rest and enjoy meeting our daughter,” I tell her. “I love you. Both of you.”

  “I love you too,” Callie looks up and says. “Thank you for giving me something so amazing. I can’t wait for Brady to meet her.”

  “He’s gonna love her too,” I reply, imagining our rambunctious almost one-year-old seeing his new sister.

  “You want to hold her?” she asks me.

  “Of course I do,” I say, and Callie hands her over. I take her and cradle her in my arms like a pro. “Happy birthday, sweetheart. You almost share one with your big brother.”

  “Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Dunn. Let the nurse know if you need anything,” the doctor says to us before she leaves the room.

  “Thank you,” Callie and I both tell her.

  “So what should we name her?” Callie asks me. Over the past few months, we’ve thought about some names; but since we decided to let the gender be a surprise, we hadn’t picked one out yet.

  “How about Peyton?” I suggest.

  “Seriously? Another quarterback?” Callie replies with a grin, and I shrug. “Fine, Peyton’s not so bad for a girl.”

  “What do you think, Peyton?” I ask the blinking baby in my arms. “I’ll teach you and your brother how to hold a football and throw a perfect spiral. Maybe you’ll be the first professional female quarterback in the league.”

  “That’s a lot of pressure to put on a girl minutes after she’s born,” Callie teases.

  “I just want her to do whatever makes her happy,” I assure her.

  “She’s lucky to have you, and so am I,” she says when I place our daughter back in my wife’s arms.

  “So does that mean you’ve rescinded your statement about never letting me touch you again?” I ask her with a grin.

  “I would never say something so crazy about my husband who I love more than anything,” Callie replies sweetly.

  “Right. I must have been mistaken,” I tell her, followed by a chuckle. “So how long are we gonna wait before we start trying to make another baby?” I ask, causing Callie to scoff.

  “You know it’ll be at least six weeks,” she reminds me.

  “So, six weeks and a day?” I ask, leaning over the bedrail to kiss her.

  “That sounds about right,” Callie agrees, smiling against my lips.

  The End

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  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  New York Times bestselling author Lane Hart was born and raised in North Carolina. She continues to live in the south with her husband, two daughters, and several pets named after Star Wars characters.

  When Lane's not writing or reading sexy novels, she can be found in the summer on the beaches of the east coast, and in the fall watching football, cheering on the Carolina Panthers.

  Connect with Lane:

  Twitter: https://twitter.com/WritingfromHart

  Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/lanehartbooks

  Website: http://www.lanehartbooks.com

  Email: lane.hart@hotmail.com

  If you enjoy hot romances with surprise babies, keep reading for a free sample of Senn!

  COPYRIGHT

  This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue were created from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual people or events is coincidental.

  The author acknowledges the copyrighted and trademarked status of various products within this work of fiction.

  © 2016 Editor's Choice Publishing

  All Rights Reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  For permission requests, write to the publisher, addressed “Attention: Permissions Coordinator” at the address below.

  Editor’s Choice Publishing

  P.O. Box 10024

  Greensboro, NC 27404

  Edited by Wendy Ely and Angela Snyder

  Cover by vocaldesign

  https://www.fiverr.com/vocaldesign

  Photo ©istockphoto.com

  WARNING: THIS BOOK IS INTENDED FOR MATURE AUDIENCES 18+ ONLY AND CONTAINS EXPLICIT SEX SCENES AND ADULT LANGUAGE!

  Prologue

  Senn Duncan

  The blinding sun feels like a spotlight on my guilt and shame, following me from the apartment complex and over to the local diner where I’ll wait for Nate to come pick me up. I hope he doesn’t recognize the neighborhood. He can’t find out. No one can find out where my dick has just been. Where it should’ve never, ever, under any circumstances, have gone.

  That woman is pure evil. Tiny, sexy, manipulative evil. I can’t even blame my stupidity on alcohol. There was only half a beer in my bloodstream when I agreed to get into that cab with her. Why didn’t I just drive us? Because when I asked her, “My place or yours?” her answer was “In the back of the cab.”

  Six words and my cock fell under her spell. Then it was in her mouth. That’s right. She got on her knees and sucked me off in the backseat floorboard of the cab. And after I came down her throat --- with four minutes to spare --- I pulled her into my lap, laying her upside down with her legs wrapped around my neck, so I could eat her pussy. There were no panties under her short, black dress, which is exactly how the whole wicked temptation started inside the club.

  None of that explains why I stayed all night in her bed with her clinging to me like Saran Wrap. Sure, I told myself I didn’t want to wake up my buddy to come get me in the middle of the night, or get into another cab that would remind me of the dirty, shameful shit we did hours earlier in one with the driver listening to every lick, moan, and groan. But in reality, I have no idea why I stayed until the sun came up before sneaking out. It must’ve been some sort of pussy voodoo she worked on me, because Senn Duncan never, and I mean never, stays around for cuddling.

  Maybe I stuck around to try and appease her, so she wouldn’t rat me out to Linc or any of our other friends. Does she regret our one-night stand as much as I do? No, probably not since I’m not sure she even feels any emotions, well, except when it comes to Linc.

  Oh, fuck! Did she screw me just to try and make Linc jealous? If so, she’s an idiot since he’s in love with Claire, so much so that they’re getting married in a few weeks. Which is why the sorceress was drunk last night and seduced me. That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it.

  She’ll keep her mouth shut, right? God, I hope so. Nobody,
especially Linc, can ever find out that I broke the bro code and fucked Abby Merchant, his ex-girlfriend.

  Chapter One

  Senn

  Three and a half months later…

  “What the fuck are you doing here?” I whisper yell at Abby after cornering her in the living room of Linc’s beachfront mansion. I try really fucking hard not to glance down at her bump but fail.

  Oh God, she’s definitely pregnant. Like protruding from her short, emerald dress pregnant. And she says it’s my sperm’s fault. My sperm is the reason an alien will eventually try to bust out of her belly in a few months, wreaking complete havoc on my life. Suddenly, I can’t help but wonder if the ultimate cockblocking ET is a girl or a boy. I absolutely detest the color pink, so if it’s a girl, she’s gonna have to have all that baby shit in some other color like…purple or, fuck that, a nice, neutral yellow. And on a side note, Abby’s titties are huge now. I’m talking going from a handful of Granny Smith apples to full, ripe cantaloupes overflowing from the crisscrossing cups of her spaghetti strap dress. My mouth waters, and my cock instantly swells at the thought of sucking on those bad boys. No, no, and hell no. Never again.

  “I was invited by Linc and Claire, since, you know, I helped them plan the wedding and all,” Abby says with her hands resting casually on her belly, drawing even more attention to it.

  I bark out a laugh since I find it hard to believe that they, especially Claire, would have sent her, of all people, an invitation. She’s probably crashing.

  “I’m surprised you didn’t try to stop the wedding by telling everyone it’s Linc’s baby, you conniving little tramp.”

  Whap!

  The unfiltered words barely leave my mouth before Abby gasps and then slaps the ever-loving shit out of me.

  “Don’t act like you didn’t think about it, homewrecker.” I keep antagonizing her for whatever reason as I rub a palm over my cheek, trying to soothe the sting.

  “God, you’re such a dickhead,” she snaps, turning red in the face, and making the cute freckles across her nose stand out even more. “I came because I’m happy for them.”

  “Whathefuckever,” I mutter, not believing that shit for a second. “Why did you have to come like…like that?” I ask, gesturing in her general facility.

  “Like what?” she says with a raised eyebrow. “Pregnant? You must’ve skipped that day of health class. See, there’s no on and off switch. It’s not a basketball, so it doesn’t deflate. My belly just keeps getting bigger every day because there’s a tiny person growing inside me. Well, probably not very tiny since I was impregnated by you, Paul Bunyan.”

  “Shh! Dammit, now is not the time nor the place…” I warn her, closing the distance between us and almost running into ET while I look around the room of wedding guests to see if anyone overheard.

  “Why not? Because you’re an asshole and don’t want Linc to know that you not only broke the bro code but planted your gigantic seed in me?” she asks with a wicked smile and a poke to my navel. Most people poke in the chest, but she’s really short and I’m six-four. “Well, I hate to tell you this, Tarzan, but I can’t exactly play this thing off as a beer belly anymore. And it hurts to try and smoosh it into tight clothes.” She strokes her palm over the bump tenderly, and my own palm twitches with the stupid urge to touch it, too. ET must be putting out some sort of magnetic, gravitational pull. That’s the only explanation for why I want to touch any part of this evil, infuriating, but highly fertile woman. Well, that and the fact that her jiggling tits look fucking divine.

  “Could you just…I don’t know…pine away for Linc from afar today instead of drooling over him while all up in his grill?” I ask, almost ready to beg.

  She scoffs. “I’m here for his wedding! It would be rude to not even say hello.” Right, of course she wants to see the man she is still clearly in love with.

  “No, it wouldn’t be rude to avoid throwing this shit in his face today of all days!” I argue.

  “Linc’s not gonna care,” she says with confidence I don’t have. And there it is, in the way she says his name, like she thinks he’s still hers, and she knows him so damn well.

  “Linc won’t care about what?”

  Fuck!

  My best friend suddenly appears next to us, still wearing his black tux. God, I felt so guilty, standing beside him today as his best man, knowing I not only fucked his ex but knocked her up. Just like mine did, his blue eyes go straight down to her stomach and widen. “Holy fuck! Are you…are you pregnant?” he asks Abby, staring down at our obvious predicament.

  “Hey, Linc! Congratulations to you and Claire,” Abby says before stepping forward to wrap her arms around him and hug him, pressing those big titties and my baby, I mean, her belly, all up on the front of his body. Of course she does, because she’s a crazy stalker who’s obsessed with him even though he just married another woman a few hours ago. That’s how I ended up with her that one night three or four months ago in the first fucking place. And seeing her throw herself at him now seriously pisses me off for whatever reason.

  “Ah, thanks for comin’, and, um, congrats to you, too, I guess?” Linc says hesitantly when he pulls carefully away from her embrace like she might break. Then, he reaches out and rubs a hand over her bump. What the fuck!

  Abby flashes Linc a goofy-eyed, fangirl smile, probably because he’s touching her. “I’m only fourteen weeks, but my doctor has already done all the genetic testing, and he says that the chance of a miscarriage is only about five percent at this point.”

  Fuck. The reminder of Linc and Abby losing their son to a miscarriage causes a strange burning knot to flare up in the pit of my stomach and radiate up into my chest. I rub my fist over my sternum to try and make the ache go away. Maybe it’s just indigestion from too many crabcakes. I’m sure our ET is fine since Abby’s so…big, right?

  “Good, that’s really good to hear,” Linc says to her. Reaching for her hand, he holds it palm up and strokes his thumb over the inside of her wrist. That’s when I notice the small, black cursive letters and angel wings for the first time, a tattoo that I’m guessing is for the baby they lost.

  Seeing Abby and Linc having this…moment together is sort of making me feel like an escaped mental patient. Like it better end soon or I might snap and punch my best friend in his fucking face, wedding day or not.

  “So, who’s the father?” Linc asks Abby after he drops her hand. She lowers her eyes while her fingertips glide over the skin of her wrist where he just touched her. “He’s gonna take care of you both; right, Abby?”

  She doesn’t answer him, refusing to rat me out until I’m ready. But for some stupid reason, I know I need to man the fuck up and just tell him. A part of me wants him to know.

  “It’s mine,” I say.

  Linc’s jaw drops and Abby gasps when they both look over at me like they forgot I was still standing here. She’s probably just as shocked as Linc since my reaction so far has been to call her a liar instead of admitting that I believe her. Over the phone I wasn’t so sure, but based on our first face-to-face conversation moments ago, it’s obvious that she fucking hates me. I’m the last man on the planet she wants to raise a baby with, so why would she lie?

  “Yours?” Linc asks, and then looks back and forth between me and Abby. “You and…you two are…What the fuck?”

  “I’m sorry,” I say to him quickly. “We were drunk, and it was just one night. She was upset and practically threw herself at me. I know that’s bullshit, and I shouldn’t have fucked around with her in the first place-.”

  That’s the point in my rambling apology when Abby spins around and storms off.

  “Wow,” Linc mutters as we both watch her maneuver through the crowd of people, moving farther away from us in the beach house. “You’re an asshole.”

  “I know,” I agree, running my fingers through my hair.

  “She’s probably cryin’ right about now. Actually, I’m almost certain she is, with the pregnancy ho
rmones and all.”

  “Fuck,” I grumble. “And exactly how pissed off are you at me?” I have to ask him.

  “Why would I be pissed at you?” he questions me with a creased forehead.

  “Because I knew you and her dated. Fuck, you had a baby together, and I went behind your back…”

  “You could’ve just told me,” he says with a shrug. “It’s not like I would’ve given a shit.”

  “You’re not mad?”

  “Hell no,” he says, adamantly waving a hand in the air. “That…that was over a looong time ago.”

  “Maybe for you…” I mutter.

  “What does that mean?” he asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

  “Are you blind?” I ask him in a huff. “She still loves you even though you don’t give a shit about her.”

  “Hey, I give a shit about her, just not the way I used to, and definitely not like I love Claire.”

  “Yeah, well, the news that you were getting married is what led to all this,” I tell him.

  “What? Are you serious?” he asks, dropping his hands back down by his sides.

  “She was upset when I saw her at a club a few months ago, throwing back shots after she found out about your wedding. And then, hell, she said she wanted me to make her forget about you that night.”

  “Oh,” he replies softly. “And now…now you two are gonna have a baby together because you…helped her forget me?”

  “Apparently.”

  “That is…insane,” he says with a shake of his head. “But we can talk later. Right now you better go find Abby and apologize for bein’ a jerk. Stress isn’t good for her or the baby.”

  I cringe at his words, hoping she’s not that upset, but turn to go look for her to make sure. Wandering through the house full of people, I definitely wasn’t expecting to find Abby in the hallway being comforted by Hailey. Hailey, Linc’s sister, who I’ve been trying to fuck all week, narrows her eyes at me, seeming to understand right away that I’m the cause of the pregnant woman’s tears. I confessed to Hailey I might be the father, so she already knew before seeing the proof under Abby’s dress today.