ROMANCE: BAD BOY ROMANCE: Hit by the Football Player (College First Time Sex Virgin Contemporary Romance)

by Ava Walsh

  I nodded my head. “I know, of course. It was only a joke.”

  “And I also didn’t mean to cause a scene. I just wanted to watch the game. I had the ticket,” she continued. I continued nodding my head.

  “Of course. You should come to all the games, by all means. You’re a sports journalist after all.” I tried to laugh again, but she wasn’t joining me.

  “I don’t know why people keep calling me that. I used to be a sports journalist. I’m not one anymore.” She looked away from me, but she didn’t look sad. She looked sure of herself, as confident as ever. I wanted to hold her, I wanted her to let it all out.

  “How are you feeling?” I asked and she jerked her head to look at me.

  “With the child you mean?”

  “With my child, yes.”

  “I feel fine.” She waved the sunglasses in her hand, and I stared at her. I wanted her to tell me the truth.

  “Can I see the baby when it’s born?” I asked, I knew I had to tread carefully.

  “I didn’t think you wanted to,” she said, looking keenly back at me.

  “Of course I want to. It’s my child. It’s our child, Erica.” I took a few steps towards her, and I was glad to find that she didn’t move away.

  “But it was a mistake.”

  “A happy mistake. I’m going to be a father. That feels great and I want to be a part of its life.” I took a few more steps towards her.

  “I was planning on leaving the city, going back to my hometown,” she said, still looking at me.

  “For a while? Not for very long, I hope. I don’t want to live far away from my child.” I didn’t know what else to say. My heart was breaking to hear that she had planned to go away. Ten days apart had been enough for me to know that I couldn’t live without her.

  “I need my family’s support.”

  “But you have mine.”

  “Lewis asked me to stay away.”

  “Lewis is an asshole,” I blurted out, and I saw the smile in her eyes. It encouraged me to edge closer to her. “He has no idea how I feel about you.”

  Erica was silent, but she was asking the question with her eyes. How do you feel about me?

  “That relationship may have been fake, Erica, but my feelings for you are not. I think I’m in love with you,” I said. The lightbulb above us was swinging. Her face was lit and then not lit, lit and then not lit. I thought I saw a smile spreading across her face, but I couldn’t be sure yet.

  “Kyle, how can this be possible?” she asked, and I reached for her hand.

  “I don’t know Erica, but it’s not impossible either,” I said. She let me hold her hand.

  “No, I mean, how can this be possible? I thought I was the only one who was feeling this way. I’ve missed you, Kyle,” she said and she was in my arms in the next second. Her face was on my shoulder and I was stroking her hair.

  My heart was beating fast, the warmth of her body was enough to make me happy. I was smiling.

  “Why did you stay away from me for so long?” I asked her. She remained on my chest, her hair spread over my shoulders.

  “Because I didn’t think you wanted me. I thought you were happy to see me go. I couldn’t imagine that you would want a baby.” Erica was speaking softly as I held her close to me.

  “That’s crazy talk. All I’ve done since I first saw you in that hallway after that first game is think about you. I’ve wanted your body, and now I want your soul,” I said and I felt her smile against my jersey.

  We were both silent for several minutes, enjoying the warmth of each other’s body.

  “What about that photograph? The one in your locker room?” Erica asked suddenly.

  “I never found out who did it. Must have been one of my teammates. But it doesn’t matter anymore. We would never have been together if it wasn’t for that photograph,” I said, stroking her hair. She smiled at me and nodded.

  Chapter Nineteen - Erica

  The press had been primed, they had all lined up outside the stadium waiting for us to make an appearance. Lewis had grudgingly arranged for it.

  Kyle was holding my hand tightly as we made our way out. My heart was pounding against my chest. I had never done something like this before. All my career, I had been on the other side. I had been the one asking questions.

  Kyle was still in his winning jersey and he had a bright smile on his face as we made our way to the front. The cameras flashed. He was a natural. “Good evening everybody. I just wanted to make an official statement and put all the gossip to rest, once and for all,” Kyle began. The cameras continued to flash as he spoke loudly, but the murmur had died down. Everybody was waiting with bated breath to hear him.

  Kyle Murphy had just won another game: he was the star of the show, also the hottest most eligible bachelor in the country, and now he was making a statement holding the hand of a girl who he had supposedly thrown out of his house only a few days ago.

  “No, I will not be taking any questions.” He shot down someone from the crowd of journalists who had said something. “The truth is that Erica and I met here, in this stadium, after one of our games. We met and we fell in love. That was almost instantaneous. We have been together since then, and it is none of anybody’s business what goes on in our personal lives.”

  The cameras flashed again. I was standing beside him and he was still holding my hand.

  “We are very much in love, we have always been together, and little fights and arguments are a part of every relationship. I did not throw her out of my apartment. She chose to leave of her own accord to take a break. And now we are together again.” Kyle looked at me, and I smiled at him. He hadn’t told me what he had planned on saying, but I was glad he was saying it all. Nearly everything he was saying was true.

  “I would also ask the media to exercise caution in their dealings with our relationship. We are expecting a child, and we do not want the paparazzi hounding our personal space and private lives.” He ended it on that note and turned to me. I wasn’t expecting him to kiss me, but he did. Right on the lips, in front of everybody.

  “One last thing, as you can all guess by now. I am officially taken,” he said and pulled me away, and then leaned in to kiss me on the cheek again.

  “All that wasn’t necessary, Kyle,” I whispered to him. He squeezed my hand, warm in his.

  “Of course it was. I had to announce it to the world,” he said.

  *****

  THE END

  Did you like what you read?

  ”Quarterback Daddy“ is a standalone book in a series of football stars secret baby romance novels. Other parts of the series:

  - Football Daddy

  - Touchdown Daddy

  The books each have a guaranteed HEA and contain plenty of hot football players, steamy love-scenes and mature language.

  Bonus Book 5: The Mobster's Secret Baby

  Description

  “Without manners, we all turn into animals,” he said.

  “And what’s wrong with animals?” she whispered.

  Sylvia

  All my life I’ve been on my guard, looking over my shoulders because my dad’s a mobster. And now he has made me a prisoner in one of his friend’s homes. Fedor Volkov, the big Russian mafia boss.

  I expected a cold-hearted monster, but he’s sexy as hell with a beard that sets my belly on fire. He stands for everything I despise, yet I can’t stop thinking about him. I want him to be the one to take my virginity. Especially since that would royally piss off my dad.

  But I got way more than I bargained for...

  Fedor

  Every two years I take a vacation in my holiday home, alone. But this time, Will Stern has begged me to take in his daughter and protect her against his enemies. I couldn’t say no. Will is one of my best friends.

  I didn’t expect her to be all grown up, though, a sexy young twenty-three-year-old with endless legs and a cleavage to drive me mad. But I can’t break the code, I am her guardian. I know I sh
ould stay away from her, but it’s almost like she’s out to make me fall.

  How much longer can I resist?

  Chapter One - Sylvia

  “I don’t understand what the need for this is!” Sylvia stood aside while her father threw open the doors of her cupboard and started flinging clothes into a large duffle bag that he had brought with him.

  “Think of this as a vacation, sweetie,” Will Stern said, barely looking at his daughter while he continued the task at hand - packing his daughter’s belongings.

  “A vacation? I don’t need a vacation, dad! I just got done with college. I need to find a job.” Sylvia took a few steps in her father’s direction, trying to follow him around the room, but he now laid an arm on her dresser and just swept all her makeup and boxes of little trinkets into the bag. Sylvia shrieked with fright.

  “Be careful with those, dad!” she yelled, but he wasn’t really paying attention. He had only one thing on his mind, and he didn’t look like he was going to take a break.

  “I’ll get you a job when you come back. It’s just for a couple of weeks. It’ll be a nice break for you, after all the hard work you’ve put into your studies. You’ve never been to Puerto Rico,” Will said, finally zipping up the bag. He thought he had packed everything, but Sylvia had already made mental notes of all the stuff that he hadn’t put in - her shoes, the scarves, her prized collection of perfumes.

  “Okay, dad,” she said softly, hoping that a gentler approach might work better. She walked towards him as he stood bent over the duffle bag and put a hand on his shoulder. Will Stern whipped around with a crazed look in his eyes.

  “Dad, I thought those days were behind us,” Sylvia asked, the color rising in her cheeks. She was so tired of this. All her childhood had been spent running away, hiding, always looking over their shoulders to see if they were being followed. It was what had killed her mother. All that nerve wracking will to survive, to live. Her father had been a small-timer then, he worked for someone else, one of the Russian mob bosses. But now that he had a gang of his own, his own security, his own source of income, Sylvia thought that those days of looking over their shoulders were over. That their lives were never going to be in danger anymore.

  “It’s never truly behind us,” Will said, sitting down at the edge of her bed with a thump. He looked exhausted.

  Sylvia put her hands on her hips, standing with her legs apart. She could feel the rage rising up her shoulders, she was exhausted too. When would she ever be able to lead a normal life?

  “You have the money now, dad. You can pay off people. Frighten them…I don’t know what. You can do something. You don’t have to run away!” Sylvia breathed in deeply, nearly pleading with her father. She didn’t want to leave New York. Not when she was just beginning her job hunt. No matter what promises her father made, the kind of work he’d find her was not the kind of work she wanted to do. She wanted to get away from the mob world, away from the world of money laundering and thugs and stories about people getting killed or beaten to pulp for not paying their dues.

  Sylvia wanted to lead a normal life, work at a startup, have a regular desk job, get a cat.

  “I’m not running away. You’re going to Puerto Rico by yourself. I just don’t want you to get caught up in this. I don’t want your life to be in danger,” Will said, running his hands through his closely cropped dark curly hair. Sylvia noticed the graying of his sideburns. She hadn’t realized before but her father was getting old. But this didn’t mean that she wasn’t still angry with him. For trying to snatch a normal life away from her, again!

  “Well, I’m not running away either. I’ve had enough of this. I’m staying right here. What the Hell am I going to do in Puerto Rico of all places?” Sylvia folded her arms across her chest, and then she saw the shift in her father’s eyes. He was determined. She had seen that look in his eyes very often in the past. She knew it scared people, but it didn’t scare her. She looked back at him directly, defiantly.

  “You’re going. You’ll be staying with my friend. He owns a mansion there. He’s on holiday there and he’s agreed to take you in for a few weeks. You’ll be safe with him.” Will stood up from the bed and picked up the duffle bag up. Sylvia could feel tears bubbling up in her eyes, from the rage. She knew she had lost the fight. There was no convincing him now.

  “I know what all your friends are like. They are all like you. Dirty criminals. You’re all alike. You’re all disgusting!” Sylvia screamed after her father as he left the room, expecting her to follow him as he went.

  Sylvia clenched and unclenched her fists, she stamped the floor repeatedly, and then breathed out deeply to calm herself. This was not going to work. Her father would eventually get his men to physically drag her to his waiting car outside if he had to. Her struggle, her reasoning was useless.

  So instead, Sylvia just opened her cupboard again. She pulled out one of her Louis Vuitton bags and started stuffing in the shoes her father had forgotten to pack, and then her scarves and her perfumes.

  Just a few more weeks of this life, she told herself as she packed. Then it’d be over. Then she’d be done with this life and would start afresh. Maybe she’d leave the country. Maybe she’d move to London or Sydney or somewhere else where her father couldn’t hunt her down. Sylvia could feel the blood boiling in her veins, but she knew there was absolutely nothing she could do about it now.

  Chapter Two - Fedor

  Fedor Volkov swirled the glass of Scotch in his hands. It was only midday, but he was on vacation now, so he allowed himself the treat. Back in Chicago, he didn’t take his first drink before all the day’s work was done, not before midnight. He needed to be thinking straight at all times.

  He definitely needed this break. Puerto Rico was good for him. His mansion was isolated, well-guarded and he never invited any of his friends or associates along. A few weeks at his getaway meant just that: a getaway. In complete isolation. It gave him somewhere to think, to actually think.

  But Will Stern might have spoilt it all. He had called on his direct line the previous night, sounding crazed, afraid. If Will sounded afraid, it had to be something big. He nearly begged Fedor to hide his daughter, to give her protection till he could sort out this gang war. Fedor couldn’t say no, he couldn’t say no to one of his closest friends. Will and he had both risen through the ranks together. Will was an outsider, he wasn’t Russian, but he had the guts to play with the big boys. They always had each other's backs, and this poor girl didn’t even have a mother anymore. He couldn’t possibly say no.

  “Boss, she’s here,” he heard Pyotr’s voice say in Russian behind him.

  “Bring her in,” Fedor replied and folded one leg over the other, sinking a little further into his leather chair.

  He heard the clicking of heels on the marble floor outside, and he immediately had an impression of Will’s daughter. She definitely walked with a lot of confidence. He hadn’t met her since her mother’s funeral. She was only twelve then. She was twenty-three now, practically a grown woman.

  Pyotr opened the large oak doors of his study and Fedor looked up from the glass in his hand. When she walked in, she brought with her a sharp all-encompassing scent of her perfume. It was unmistakably musk, but a gentle feminine musk that tickled his nostrils.

  Whatever image of a twelve-year-old little girl he had in his head went hurling out of the window. Sylvia Stern was a woman now and what an absolutely gorgeous one she was, at that.

  She walked directly towards him, with her back straight and taking large quick steps in her high heels. She didn’t need Pyotr to make introductions or show her the way.

  Her skin was dark, shining in the natural tropical light streaming through the windows of the room. Her hair was just like her father’s, tight dark curls and she kept it open like a halo around her head. Her eyes were a dark chocolate brown. Her lips were thick and luscious and she had painted them in a rich plum red. She wasn’t dressed like a regular twenty-three-year-old eith
er. She was in a slim pencil skirt with a white silk blouse tucked in. This girl had style.

  Fedor stood up out of courtesy, but she didn’t seem pleased.

  “I’m Sylvia Stern. My father sent me here to be your captive.” She stuck out her hand towards him, taking him by absolute surprise. Fedor stared at her, and then at her hand, his mouth hung open a little. He was expecting a spoilt brat maybe, or a meek little girl, someone more like her mother, her late mother who was afraid of her husband’s job. Fedor had met Cassandra a few times since he started working with Will, and he had always felt sorry for her.

  But their daughter was nothing like either of them, and he wasn’t expecting this.

  “My captive? Is that how you look at it?” Fedor shook her hand, clasping her small hand in his and giving it a rough quick shake. He was about to offer her a seat, but Sylvia sat down across from him on the empty leather chair without his invitation.

  “What else is it? He forced me to pack my bags and then sent me here with guards. It wasn’t my choice, which means I’m a captive.” Sylvia crossed her long slender legs. Fedor allowed himself to look for a moment and then he immediately looked away. This was inappropriate, she was his friend’s daughter. He shouldn’t be staring at her perfect body, but he couldn’t help it.

  “He’s sent you here for your own good, for your own protection. Such is the nature of his job,” Fedor said slowly, and then took a long sip of his drink. He noticed the way her eyes sparkled as he spoke, how her chest rose and fell. It was obvious that she was trying very hard to contain her anger. She looked like she wanted to slap his face or throw his glass against the wall and shatter it to pieces.

  “I’ve wanted to be left out of his job, out of his world. I’m an adult now, I should be allowed to choose,” Sylvia said, in a more composed tone of voice. Fedor smiled and licked his lips before speaking again. She was watching him too, just as he was watching her closely.