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Big Baller: Bad Boy Sports Romance

Page 27

by Abbi Hemp


  “I don’t think I could ever hate you,” he said.

  I smiled.

  “You can read it at the restaurant.”

  “Can’t wait. We’re going to this small Italian place I know.”

  “House of Italy?”

  “Yeah. You know it?”

  “My favorite restaurant,” I said truthfully.

  They were my go-to comfort food.

  “Interesting,” he said as he pulled out of the driveway. “My parents own the place.”

  “Get out of here,” I said. “Now that is something I should put in the story.”

  “I can’t believe you didn’t know that,” he said. “Are you sure you’re a journalist?”

  “Apparently not a good one,” I said. “Scott is always on my case.”

  “You know about him, right?”

  “What do you mean? I’ve not been working there a long time.”

  “Oh, wow. You probably don’t know.”

  “What?” I asked, more curious than ever.

  “He got busted for watching porn on a work computer a few years ago. I’m surprised he’s still working at the paper.”

  “Wow,” I said. “That’s crazy. I can’t believe I didn’t hear about it.”

  “They kept it quiet.”

  “Yeah, his uncle is the publisher, but I thought the stories were just rumors. You’re saying he actually did it?”

  He nodded his head, not taking his eyes off the road ahead.

  “I think that’s why he hates me. Whenever he tried to interview me, I brought it up. Some anonymous blogger wrote about the story when it happened.”

  “Wow,” I said again. “I’m stunned.”

  “He’s probably having you do the story on me to make it seem more believable or whatever. To be honest, I don’t care. What they say in the newspaper doesn’t matter anymore.”

  “Tell me about it,” I said. “This explains earlier today.”

  “What happened?”

  “Well, I went to talk to him about the story on you, and he closed his browser and was acting shady.”

  “Sounds like him. If his uncle wasn’t publisher, I doubt he would still have a job.”

  I nodded, the information sinking in as he pulled into the parking lot next to House of Italy.

  “Did you eat here a lot growing up?” I asked.

  “More than I wanted, but I try to visit them a few times a month at least.”

  “I would be here every day if they were my parents. Although you probably get tired of it if you have the same thing every day.”

  “You nailed it,” he said. “With food and everything else in life.”

  After he parked, we went into the restaurant. He took me back to the kitchen to meet his parents.

  “This is Andrea.”

  “Ah, this is your woman-friend?” the old man asked.

  His wife elbowed him.

  “We’re good friends,” I said with a smile.

  As his father laughed, his big belly covered by a white apron shook.

  “You have room for us tonight?” Tony asked.

  “For you, always,” his mom said, walking over and pinching his cheeks.

  He hugged her briefly before taking me back out to the dining room. I was impressed when he pulled out my chair for me again.

  “So you can be a gentleman,” I teased.

  “It’s hard around you,” he said as he sat down across from me at the square table covered with a black and white checkered table cloth.

  I stared at his face partially covered by the bouquet of flowers in middle of the table.

  “Yeah?” I asked softly.

  He nodded.

  “I’m glad we’re getting a chance to talk tonight. You’ve been on my mind since…”

  “The parmesan chicken is the special tonight,” his mother said, cutting him off. “I highly recommend it.”

  “Sounds great,” I said, smiling politely.

  “I’ll take the same. Thanks, mama.”

  “Aww, how cute,” I teased after she walked away.

  “I love that woman,” he said.

  “That’s a good sign. I’ve been thinking a lot about us lately. And not just the story.”

  “It’s not just physical. I mean, you’re hot as hell, but there’s something about the way you talk to me, like you’re not going to let me get away with being an asshole.”

  “That’s right. And I’d expect you to be honest with me too.” I lifted the printed copy of my story on him. “You ready to read this?”

  “I don’t care about the story. You make the call. I trust your judgement.”

  “Wow,” I said, a bit stunned.

  His mother returned with a basket of buttery breadsticks with a bowl of marinara. She smiled then hurried away to give us our privacy.

  “They’re not very busy tonight,” I noted then took one of the breadsticks and bit off the end.

  He frowned.

  “There’s a boycott going around on Facebook and Twitter. It’s hurting them bad.”

  “What? That’s crazy. This place has been around forever.”

  “I know. It’s not fair, but your boss and his buddies have been starting trouble for them because of me.”

  “That’s got to stop. I’ll go talk to the publisher.”

  “No. I don’t want you to get into trouble over it. This is my problem.”

  “Maybe I’ll sneak something into the article about this place.”

  I glanced around the warm and comfortable dining room.

  “Just don’t get in trouble.”

  “Trouble is my middle name,” I said, turning back to him with a grin.

  “Maybe that’s what attracts me to you.”

  “That would be a first. Most men hate my honesty and attitude. They do, however, love my body.”

  “It’s a fine body,” he said.

  I took another bite of the heavenly breadstick.

  “Mmm. This is so good.”

  He smiled. The rest of the dinner went wonderfully, both of us opening up to each other. At the end, his mother insisted we share a plate of her famous Tiramisu. I would need to exercise an extra hour or two to make up for it, but I wasn’t able to resist an Italian mother trying to feed me.

  FIFTEEN

  Tony

  After dinner, I did not want the night to end.

  “Can I show you something?” I asked.

  She laughed.

  “I’ve already seen it. Thumbs up.”

  “Glad to hear, but I meant a place.”

  “Oh? A good place for me to pay you back?”

  “While that would be great, I’ll take a raincheck. It’s somewhere important to me.”

  Her face became more serious.

  “Okay. Let’s go.”

  “Great.”

  I drove across the city to Lincoln High School, where I’d been a hero on the field and off for four years. Whenever I got down on myself, I liked to go there to look at the field. Memories would flash back in waves. They were some of the best moments in my life.

  Before the money and fame, I’d played the game for the sake of sportsmanship. There was a purity about playing high school football that I found hard to put into words. I wanted to show Andrea where I’d come from originally. She meant a lot to me, even beyond the physical.

  “You’re quiet tonight,” she said, breaking me out of my thoughts.

  “Jocks think sometimes too.”

  “I know, I meant…”

  “It’s fine,” I interrupted. “I know what you meant.”

  I glanced over at her a moment, loving the way she had curled her hair that evening.

  “Watch the road, not me,” she said as if we’d been married for years already.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  A few silent minutes later, I pulled into the parking lot of Lincoln High School. They usually locked the stadium at night, but me and a few of the other superstars had keys to get in whenever we wanted.
/>   “Lincoln High School, huh?” she asked, looking out the window.

  “I come here when I need to think. It’s a special place for me.”

  “You know, I actually followed you in high school.”

  “Get out of here,” I said. “You went here too?”

  “No, I went to St. Mary’s Catholic School for Girls, but my girlfriends and I always came here to watch your games.”

  “I would’ve never guessed.”

  I stopped the Escalade and put it into park.

  “How are we going to get in?” she asked.

  While opening the door, I turned to her and smiled.

  “I have a key. You can put that in the story if you want.”

  A frown fell over her face as her brow furrowed.

  “What?” I asked. “You’re not doing the story anymore?”

  “I am, but…it’s complicated. I’ll tell you later, okay? I don’t want to ruin this.”

  “Fair enough. Let’s go.”

  I stepped down out of the cab, walking around the front. She had already gotten out on her own. We walked side by side to a door on the backside of the stands that faced the field. I unlocked and opened it, holding the grey, metal door for her.

  “It’s dark in here,” she said. “Where’s the light?”

  “We shouldn’t turn them on. They know I have a key. If I fire up the lights, someone is going to come by and bother us.”

  “I see,” she said. “You want to be alone.”

  “Alone with you. Come on.”

  I took her hand and led us through the darkness of a storeroom filled with equipment. On the other side of the room, I opened another door. After a quick walk up a ramped hallway, we emerged in the stands for the home team side of the field.

  “It looks so small,” she said, gripping a metal railing as she looked over the field.

  “Yeah, but I had some of my best memories here. This is when it was about football and sportsmanship, not all the bullshit I have to deal with now.”

  “You make it sound like the millions of dollars you make playing isn’t worth it.”

  “Oh, it’s worth it,” I said, leaning onto the railing with my forearms. “I just miss the passion of playing the game, you know?”

  “I do,” she said. “Being on the diving team made my high school years so much better.”

  “I’d love to see you dive again sometime,” I said, turning my head to look at her.

  “You have a nice indoor pool.”

  “Yeah…”

  I put my left arm around her waist and turned to look back at the field. She leaned closer, her breath visible in the cool night air so crisp and fresh.

  “It’s cold,” she said.

  “We should go inside.”

  “You asking to take me under the bleachers.”

  I stood up and turned to her with a smile.

  “Maybe I am. You got a problem with it?”

  She shook her head. I took her hand and led her back down the cement ramp.

  “Careful,” I said as we navigated the dark storeroom.

  I stopped as we approached a vending machine humming gently and offering just enough light to see her face.

  “Clever,” she said as I put my arms around her waist again.

  No longer needing words, I bent to kiss her on the lips.

  She pulled back.

  “What if we get caught?”

  “What if we don’t?”

  I placed my hand between her legs and bent to kiss her soft wet lips again. She moaned, wrapping her arms around my waist and grabbing my ass. Our tongues and lips danced as if they were at the Prom and a bit tipsy from the spiked punch.

  None of the women I had been with over the years mattered a damn bit as we kissed. Andrea had quickly eclipsed even the most memorable ones I’d slept with before. She squeezed my ass with one hand while the other snaked around and grabbed my crotch.

  Overcome with passion, I began to undo her clothes. No one would be around so late at night, but feeling her hands on me while lit by the dim glare of a vending machine made me feel so damn alive. Anything she asked of me would be okay.

  Her white blouse and bra fell to the floor forgotten and unneeded in the heat of the moment. I licked one nipple then nibbled at it with my lips. I felt her fingers in my hair, pressing my head to her breasts. That chest. Perfection. Nipples so natural.

  I made my way back to her face, kissing her lips and sticking my tongue into her mouth. This is how I’m going to fuck you, I thought. Rough, strong and so damn long. She removed my shirt and gently bit one of my pecs, surprising me. I liked it.

  My pants. Her skirt. The floor. I picked her up and carried her to the wall. She wrapped her legs around me with her back to it. I stared into her eyes, my cock so hard. We kissed. Her lips. My tongue. The dance of ecstasy. Condom.

  Slowly and gently, I lowered her body. My dick pierced her tight pussy already so wet.

  “Yes,” she moaned, her head on my shoulder, biting it.

  Holding her hips, I bounced her body up and down, the friction building up so damn quickly.

  “Tony,” she purred into my ear then nibbled at the lobe.

  The sensation made me shudder as I filled her completely. My muscles and her small, fit body made it easy to lift and maneuver her. I felt her breasts pressed against my chest as our bodies moved as one.

  “Lay down,” she hissed.

  Not caring where we were anymore, I got to the floor on my ass. As she climbed into my lap, I leaned back, enjoying her pussy engulfing my cock again. On my back, looking up at her beautiful face framed by the ceiling, I grabbed her breasts and massaged them.

  She put her palms on my chest, rocking her body as she rode me like there was no tomorrow. Each time her body rose then fell, pleasure coursed through my entire being. I stared into her eyes, never wanting to see another face when making love, such a passionate and personal space.

  “Oh, Tony,” she moaned, riding me faster.

  Grinding. Squeezing. Slapping. Giving and receiving.

  “Fuck me, Andrea.”

  The sound of her name on my lips made me even harder as she slid up and down so swiftly.

  “That’s so fucking good,” I said, my face contorting. “I’m going to come.”

  “Yes, baby. Come for me.”

  Her cries got louder as we both approached the moment together, something I’d never timed perfectly with a person before? Is this love? The L-word flashed in my mind as we came together, both of us screaming and groaning, out bodies shaking, still connected.

  She collapsed forward, her breasts pressing against me, her face next to mine.

  “Oh my,” she said. “We should go.”

  I watched her glance around as she sat up.

  “You’re so cute.”

  “I’m serious. We shouldn’t get caught in here like this. It would mess up your career.”

  “Yeah,” I said, propping myself up with my elbows.

  She crawled off of me. Both of dressed quickly, not saying much.

  “Can you drop me off at me house, please? I have some stuff I need to do.”

  “No problem. Me too.”

  Outside, we got into my black Escalade, and I drove her home. The silence wasn’t awkward. At least not to me. Leaving that night, still enjoying the afterglow, I felt my life getting better.

  SIXTEEN

  Tony

  The next day, after waking without her in bed next to me, my life took a turn for the worst. It started when I woke to my phone ringing – the Coach’s special ringtone.

  “Hello?” I answered as I sat up in bed.

  “You’re through,” he said. “It’s over. Don’t come back here.”

  I stood up.

  “What’s going on? I don’t understand.”

  “Keith filled me in on everything. I don’t want you on this team anymore.”

  “I have a contract.”

  “What you’ve done makes it null and
void, son.”

  “What the hell are you talking about? Can you tell me what I’m supposed to have done?”

  My blood pressure spiked as I paced the floor, getting more pissed by the second.

  “You know what you’ve done.”

  “I really don’t. He must be lying. I’ve brought a few women to the stadium before to impress them, but you can’t rip up my contract for that, right?”

  He laughed.

  “You don’t even know what the contract says, do you?”

  “My agent and attorney looked it over for me. Will you just tell me what I’m supposed to have done?”

  “It’s not the women, Tony. It’s the teenager girls.”

  “What?” I shouted into the phone. “That’s crazy.”

  “Keith has signed a statement. We’ve called the police. I would lawyer-up if I were you.”

  “This is bullshit,” I said, spit coming out of my mouth. “Fucking bullshit!”

  “With these accusations, I can’t have you playing for the team. You’ve already tarnished our reputation.”

  “Tarnished your reputation for losing,” I snapped, instantly regretting it.

  “Bye, Tony.”

  After he ended the call, I threw the phone across the room in a fit of rage. It hit the wall, shattering into a half-dozen or more pieces that all fell to the carpet.

  “Fuck!” I shouted, wanting to hit something. “Fucking Keith!”

  None of the women I’d been involved with were underage. I had gone through the trouble of checking each of them before initiating any sort of contact.

  Is Andrea behind this? I wondered suddenly when she popped into my head. She had told me she was doing a negative story. Is this what she was working on? If so, why would she sleep with me?

  Nothing made sense as I took a deep breath to calm myself. My anger took hold, growing. The only person I wanted to see was Andrea. She calmed me. I decided to go to her house unannounced.

  SEVENTEEN

  Andrea

  As Kenneth sat on the opposite side of the couch, I wondered if I would ever get him to leave. He was so damn sweet, but he wasn’t my type of man. Not at all.

  “I’d love to read your fiction sometime,” he said.

 

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