Loaded: A Bad Boy Sports Romance

Home > Other > Loaded: A Bad Boy Sports Romance > Page 8
Loaded: A Bad Boy Sports Romance Page 8

by Teagan Kade


  I should have said no, but it was the Dean. What was I supposed to do? In lieu of my fickle grades, I need all the gold stars I can get.

  Keep it professional and you won’t have a problem. But it’s not me I’m concerned about.

  A chili-red muscle car screeches to a halt in front of me. Leon emerges with Ray Bans on and a look on his face so smug you’d think he’d just won the lottery.

  “You can’t park there,” I state robotically.

  He takes off his sunglasses and pops his collar. “Watch me.”

  “You’re late,” I continue.

  “And you’re not going to say a damn thing about it, are you, Amanda?”

  I look around nervously. “I told you not to call me that.”

  “And I told you your secret’s safe with me. Provided we get along, if you know what I’m saying.”

  Unfortunately, I do.

  From the get-go, the nightmare is real. Leon shows no interest in the kids, whining and whinging at the smallest of instructions. He seems too preoccupied with his cell, constantly laughing or smiling to himself at text messages that pop up every couple of seconds. Worse, I think he’s high. It’s not safe.

  I’m struggling to get the kids into the media room to watch a movie. I nod to his cell. “Why don’t you put that thing away?”

  His eyes lift. “I’ve heard you say that before.”

  “Enough,” I snap.

  He slips the cell into his pocket and approaches me. “No, no. In fact, I remember exactly what you wanted me to do with it.”

  “Everything okay, Willow?” asks Glenda, poking her head around the doorway.

  Leon lays the charm on thick. “We’re just fine, and can I say how adorable these children are.” He pats the head of the closest child. “You guys deserve a medal.”

  Glenda swoons at the attention. “Yes, well. We’re just happy to have you boys.”

  Leon places his hand behind my back. It drops down to my backside. “And Willow here,” he says, emphasizing my name. “What a gem she is.”

  “Oh, we know,” agrees Glenda. “Where would we be without her?”

  “Where indeed?” replies Leon, his hand mercifully moving away before I barf all over the floor… or break it.

  Once I manage to get the kids in place and the cursed TV working, I turn to look for Leon only to find him heading for the front door. “Where are you going?”

  “I’ve seen enough. I’m out of here.”

  “I’ll call the Dean,” I threaten.

  He laughs. “You do that. I’ll call Asher, give him a little history lesson.”

  I can’t do anything. He’s got me.

  Let him tell Asher. So what?

  But I can’t allow it. I don’t want anything to jeopardize what we have. For the first time in a long time I feel alive again.

  So, I watch him go. “What do I tell the others?” I shout.

  “I’m sure you’ll think of something,” he calls back.

  Asshole.

  I make a commitment to myself then and there that Leon Hunter is going to get what’s coming to him, even if I have to bring back Amanda to do it.

  *

  This thing with Leon is another cherry on top of what is already an overloaded slab of stress, with exams coming up and countless assignments due. I’m so tempted to call Karen, try to talk it through with her, but right now all I really want to do is see Asher.

  I attempt to concentrate on my breathing as I walk, but I’m losing it. The past — a past which I had long believed buried — is being exhumed. I came here to forget all that, to start new, but now it seems whatever I do I’m unable to escape from what I did, who I was. It’s like a bad dream.

  I knock on Asher’s apartment door expecting him to be at training — because wouldn’t that be perfect? — but he answers shirtless, hand scratching his chest where for the first time I notice a stylized tattoo of a mother cradling a child.

  He sees me looking and peers down himself. “Yes. That. No need to go into it now.”

  “I didn’t know you had…”

  “Ink?” he finishes. “I guess you’re not up to date with the numerous scantily clad images of Yours Truly getting around then?”

  “I have seen the... You know.”

  He nods, hands behind his head, boxers beautifully low. “The infamous dick selfie.”

  I swallow. “Delfie?”

  “I believe ‘Big Red’ is what most people call it.”

  “Isn’t that what you call your beloved bat?”

  He raises an eyebrow.

  “I see.”

  “Trust me, you don’t want to know the story behind that one either.”

  He steps aside. “Enter, Willow of Penbrook.”

  I notice a swathe of papers and books spread out on the table. “Wow. So you do study?”

  I pick up a book from the table. Asher’s studying economics, but this book has nothing to with said subject.”

  I hold it up. “You’re borrowing pre-med books from the library? Why?”

  He comes forward. “For you. I thought it might help, for studying and what-not, if I was better versed in everything doctor.”

  I’m impressed, kind of flattered, but mostly impressed. Could this be? That the great Asher Slade is finally thinking about others rather than himself? “I’m sure you’ve got better things to do.”

  He shrugs. “It was either that or jerk off to that mental image of you sucking my cock again.”

  “Yes, that,” I stammer, cheeks growing hot and rosy.

  He steps up to me and carefully takes the book from my hand, placing it back on the table. He holds my sides and looks down into my eyes. “Yes, that was the hottest fucking thing I’ve seen in my life.”

  “I’m sure you’ve had many sexual encounters far more interesting than that.”

  He shakes his head slowly. “It’s not about the act. It’s about you. You make me feel things I’ve never felt before. I’m fucking electric when I’m around you. I feel like I can do anything.”

  I decide to play. What the hell? It’s time I blew off some steam of my own. After the mess with Leon, I need it.

  It’s time for fourth base.

  I run a single finger between the planks of his pecs, over the bumpy abs below and keep going until my finger rests on the top of his waistband. “I want to go all the way.”

  He takes my face in his hands, lifting it to meet his gaze. “Are you sure?”

  I nod, closing my eyes and letting my face fall against his hand. “I want you. I want all of you.”

  To make it absolutely clear, I reach down and cup the growing bulge in his boxers.

  I start to rub him as we kiss. He sucks on my lower lip, teeth softly brushing against it. God, he tastes amazing—lips warm and salty.

  He picks me up, carrying me to the bedroom, falling back onto the bed so I’m straddling him. My crotch is against his. I can feel his hardness through his boxers hot and ready. I want to feel his skin, his naked body, with an urgency that’s damn near blinding.

  A tingly anticipation begins to spread through my thighs and crotch. I start to grind myself against him, my nerves lighting up. All my worries slip away until there is only overwhelming desire and the heat of this moment.

  He speaks, his voice heavy. “I’ve been waiting for this. Can you feel how hard I am for you?”

  “Yes,” I moan back, grinding down harder on his cock.

  He pulls my shirt away, unsnapping my bra with a single hand. I help him remove it so he can take my breasts in his hands, thumbs brushing against my already strained nipples.

  His eyes are wide, his pupils dilated as he drinks me in.

  He sits up and takes a nipple in his mouth, swirling his tongue around it until sensation beats at me like a hammer, every tender flick of his tongue shooting pangs of pleasure directly to my core. It’s incredible.

  He takes the nipple between his teeth, biting down gently.

  I gasp sharply in resp
onse, rising quicker.

  My nipple falls from his mouth glossy and red.

  “I love that sound,” he says. “I want to hear you gasp and moan for me every fucking hour of every fucking day.”

  His thumb moves back to a soft caress, the highway of sensation that follows at peak hour.

  I lift myself up and pull away my jeans until I’m left only in my panties.

  He takes the opportunity to shift us until I’m flat on my back, his hard body pinning me to the bed, his cock tapping against my clit. I’ve never wanted to be underwear free so much in my life.

  I take hold of his boxers and run them down his thighs, his fat cock bobbing free.

  He drags his lips over my neck. Everything he does is effortless, pure mastery.

  I reach down, my fingers brushing his member. It starts a series of thoughts that jump up onto billboards in my crowded head.

  You’re about sleep with him.

  You’re going to have sex.

  He’s going to be inside you…

  That is going to be inside you.

  I start to shake when his hand comes down my chest, spanned out flat on my belly.

  “You okay?” he asks, head lifting. I see the sincerity in his eyes.

  I nod, too tangled in desire to speak.

  The hand on my belly slides down between my thighs. I draw in a sharp intake of breath, my spine kicking off the mattress at his touch.

  It’s happening. Oh god, it’s happening.

  A surge of pleasure pushes me close to climax. Not yet, I plead with myself. Not yet.

  He kisses me as his fingers play in my wetness. It’s different, this kiss, firm and possessive—hard.

  His free hand comes to the side of my panties, literally tearing them from my body with a cottony snap.

  The kiss becomes messy—hot and frantic.

  He wants me.

  I want him.

  Somehow he manages to sheath himself before his hand begins to stroke my inner thigh.

  I groan hard and deep as his fingers skim my clit. His voice is low. “You can be as loud as you like.”

  I barely recognize the strange vocalizations coming out of my mouth as my own.

  He sucks on the soft skin of my neck, his fingers shifting from my clit to the slick wetness below, sliding into my sex.

  So close.

  My whole body is heavy with need. I don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to hold out.

  He goes deeper. A second finger joins the first inside me while his thumb strokes my clit.

  My pussy clenches. It feels amazing, the pleasure building rapidly, spiraling and spindling throughout me.

  Breathe, I remember, sucking in air through my teeth, my eyelids pressed together. When I open my eyes, I’m staring in his, and there’s desperation there, a desperation that screams ‘I want to be inside you.’

  I take hold of the side of his face and nod, let him know it’s okay.

  He takes my hip and shifts until his tip is straining against me.

  It’s happening.

  I move my hips to take more of him, digging my nails into his sides, silently begging him to take me.

  And he does.

  He thrusts forward, sliding deep into the smooth pocket of my sex. It stretches to take him, at first too large but my body slowly grows to accommodate him the more he strokes inside me.

  He goes slow at first, his eyes never leaving mine, completely in the moment, completely connected.

  He goes deeper and I groan low. I don’t want him to stop, stretched out as I am, every inch of my pussy filled to capacity by his cock.

  I reach up and tug at his hair. “Please,” I beg.

  It’s far more intimate than I imagined—the way our bodies press and release, the way he holds and kisses me.

  I start to rock my hips to match his thrusting, groaning and mewing aloud, anything to let him know how good he’s making me feel right now.

  I know I’m close, but I use all my willpower to hold off a little longer as his thrusting grows more frenzied, more intense.

  Deeper.

  Deeper still.

  Never-ending.

  He takes hold of my wrists and brings them together over my head. My breasts flatten as he kisses me, his lips so hard on mine it hurts. He moans there, caught in our pleasure.

  I want to come so bad.

  I want to feel him come, the welcome convulsion of his cock inside me.

  His breathing grows impossibly heavy, his eyes closing. Every muscle in his body tenses.

  I close my own eyes and concentrate on the sensation.

  It’s my undoing.

  The following orgasm unravels me from the inside, my toes curling and fingers spanning wide as I’m ravaged by powerful contractions. They grip and release Asher’s cock, pulsing until he too can take no more.

  His lips fall against my neck as he groans in release, cock twitching inside me.

  Time is lost. The world is gone. It is simply us, now.

  We stay like this for an eternity, pressed together.

  It’s only when my breathing returns to normal that my brain can finally process what my body’s just been through.

  Suddenly, it’s real.

  His kisses me one more time, sliding away.

  I feel the loss of him.

  He sits on the edge of the bed, shaking his head.

  “What is it?” I ask, voice thick with concern.

  He looks back smiling. “You,” he says. “You’re fucking incredible.”

  I kneel up on the bed, pull away a strand of hair stuck to my cheek. “It was okay?”

  He laughs. “That’s like saying the Sistine Chapel is okay.”

  He reaches back and cups my face. “Your eyes. Jesus.”

  I glance away nervously. “Apparently the color’s pretty rare.” I grab at my hair. “Especially when you combine it with this. They call it ‘Alexandria’s Genesis’ or something. They say people with violet eyes don’t burn or tan, but I can tell you that’s a lie.”

  His thumb pulls my lower lip down, sweeping across it. “Rare or not. You’re mine, all mine, and I’m going to treat you like the god-damn princess you deserve to be.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  ASHER

  Mid-semester grades are in. I’d like to think I had some small part to play in Willow completely acing her exams, but she did most of the heavy lifting herself. As for me, I managed to pull in my highest GPA so far. That too is thanks to Willow. Who knew the best study method was spending all day in bed? But it’s more than that. I can drop the pretense when I’m with her. It’s freed up my head… and other things.

  Sex with Willow is everything I wished for and more. It’s the dream, that perfect, symbiotic connection you don’t get from a casual fuck. And god knows I’ve had enough of those—simple physical in and out, a short high followed by a big low. But that’s not what happens when I’m with Willow. I’d die happy if I could stay inside her all day, waiting until my cock was hard over and over to make her come again.

  She’s got her laptop set up on my bed, reading through her transcript. I take a finger and run it down her bare back. I run it past the twin dimples at the base of her spine and between her two creamy buttocks. She doesn’t protest when the renegade finger runs lower. She’s wet already.

  “Are you having fun there?” she questions, eyes on the screen.

  I press my finger inside her. “As a matter of fact, I am—far more fun than I had destroying my exams, though it looks like you didn’t do so bad yourself. We should celebrate.”

  Her buttocks clench together when I skim my thumb over her clit. “I know what your idea of celebration is, mister.”

  Reluctantly, I remove my hand from the hot space between her legs. “You weren’t complaining last night… or this morning.”

  “This is true. You do have a certain way with…”

  “My hands, my tongue? Because they’re always at your disposal, twenty-four seven. My serv
ices are just a text away.” I reach forward and close the lid of her laptop, pulling her up and into my lap.

  She hooks her hands around my neck, staring into my eyes. “That was rude.”

  “Being cordial isn’t one of my strong suits.”

  She shifts, grinding down against me. “You’re hard.”

  “You’re wet.”

  She smiles back. “What do you suggest we do about it?”

  She laughs. “As much as I’d love to, I can’t. I’ve got an urgent meeting I’m going to be late for if I don’t get dressed and out of here right now.”

  I pull back. “Urgent? What could be more pressing than this?”

  She looks down between us. Her breasts are so fucking perfect, nipples hot pink against porcelain skin. “A meeting with Karen.”

  “Nothing serious, I hope.”

  She looks to the window, her hair alight. “We’ll see, but it’s nothing you need to worry about.” She taps me in the middle of my chest. “Why don’t you go and celebrate with the team? You haven’t exactly been spending a lot of time with them lately, and that was quite a win. I mean, you are team captain.”

  I shift my cock up against her. “I’ve had important matters to attend to.”

  Willow swings herself off me, sweeping the floor of the bedroom for her clothing. “I’m well aware, but honestly, go out. Have a good time. I’ll be here when you come home.”

  “If you want me to hang out with the boys, I can’t guarantee I’ll be sober when I get back.”

  She paces over, reaching down and taking hold of my member. “As long as you can get Big Red up, you won’t have anything to worry about, will you? Besides, I’m only with you because of your impossibly large penis anyhow.”

  I laugh. “I don’t think that’s a compliment.”

  She winks, pulling on her panties. “Take it or leave it, but when you get home you better be naked and ready, because I’m going to work that stick or yours until you can’t see straight.”

  *

  With the promise of sex to come, I pool together the team at the Quagmire. The bar’s pumping when I arrive. Two girls dart through the crowd naked, clutching their breasts and pubic areas.

  I find Leon at the bar. “I see everyone’s letting their hair down.”

 

‹ Prev