Beachside Lover - A Bad Boy Sports Romance: A Bad Boy Sports Romance

by Andy Wayne

  She clicked her tongue. “What, you want me to just squat right here?”

  “There's a bathroom down the hall. You can take all the time you want.”

  Maricela went from indignant to quiet.

  “If you're telling the truth, Maricela, you can have everything you want. You just have to take this test.” Elena walked over to her and crouched down with her phone in her hand. “You don't want to take the test, do you?”

  “I don't have to do nothing for you.”

  “Why won't you take the test?” Elena asked.

  “I know about you. I saw you with him at the party, running out with him holding a bottle. I will never do anything you say.”

  “Then you're not pregnant. If you were pregnant you would take the test.”

  “I'm not taking it!” Elena set the pregnancy test on the table.

  “Prove it, Maricela. If you wanna keep this up, you need evidence, because you better believe that in nine months when there's no baby, the entire country will be laughing at you.” Then she turned and walked out.

  Chapter 6

  Diego sent Elena a text when she was halfway to her hotel. All it said was 7 pm. He wanted her to come by his house, not so she could get to know him, or so he could talk with her. This was a date… with a man that could melt her every time she laid eyes on him. She checked herself in the mirror when she pulled into the parking garage. There were lines under her eyes and her hair was about to burst out of her hair tie.

  She walked back up to her room. How could she possibly go on a date looking like this? She didn't have anything to wear, the dress from the event had to be returned. What about her face? She looked in the bathroom mirror. Ugh. This wouldn't work.

  Diego might have said he wanted a real woman, but no man could handle a woman in her natural state. Elena had enough to buy an outfit and maybe some decent makeup without blowing her budget, but she didn't have any time. It was already four o'clock, and it took almost an hour to drive up to the mansion.

  Elena couldn't miss spending time with Diego even if she wanted to. He had too much control over her. The second she resolved to cancel, she'd end up running to her car to drive straight to his mansion. The only choice she had was the kind of impression she wanted to give him. She could walk up with no makeup and a pair of old jeans, or she could attempt to be the kind of woman he couldn't resist.

  Elena pulled out her laptop, and it opened up to her profile.

  Donovan. The man was a genius. He would fix this. It would cost an arm and a leg, but the man would make her look like a goddess. She hunted him down and sent a message detailing the entire situation. She had barely hit send when her phone started ringing.

  “Hello?”

  “DIEGO ROJAS!” Donovan shrieked on the other end. “You did not just tell me that you have a date with Diego Rojas.”

  “Yes.”

  “WHOOO!” He hung up and texted her an address.

  Elena freshened up, ran out the door and soon found herself standing in front of a beach house painted bright gold. Sitting in front was a golden sign with the same signature as on Donovan's cards.

  “Now!” Elena heard Donovan scream.

  “Yes, Donovan.”

  “Go!”

  The third girl's butt poked out the screen door. Elena walked forward to see what was going on, and laughed when she realized the girl had been bowing to Donovan.

  “I am so sorry,” she turned around and ran down the front steps to meet Elena. “I didn't mean to keep you waiting.”

  “It's okay.” Elena followed her up the steps where she was met by a limp figure leaning against the door frame smoking a cigarette.

  “You're lucky,” Donovan said. “I'm feeling...sexy.” He flipped his cigarette off the porch, turned around and walked inside.

  Elena followed him in. He had gutted the whole place, and had mirrors covering every wall. The effect was jarring… like she was being confronted with all of her flaws, in a freaky house of mirrors kind of way. Her chin was too small, and she had love handles sticking out on both sides. She wanted to look away, but everywhere she looked she found another viewpoint, another flaw.

  “What do you think?” Donovan studied her.

  “Of this place?”

  “You don't like it?”

  “No. I-uh—”

  “Sit down,” he interrupted, pointing to a shampoo station in the corner and dragging her over. Then he pushed her head down and started bombarding her with a burst of scalding hot water. “You're not supposed to like it. The mirrors make you see just how ugly you are. Everyone is ugly, but most people don't get good a look. Once they do, they want to change. A mirror makes you a better person. You want to change?” He added a squirt of shampoo to his hand.

  “I—

  “Of course you do. You need a mirror in your head too. I tell everyone—watch yourself. You think you know who you are, then somebody puts a mirror up to you and you'll surprise yourself.”

  “I like that.”

  “Good.” He pushed her up and pulled her by the hand into a stylist chair, and began weaving her hair, and buzzing the girls over for his tools of the trade. He did her hair up in a messy bun like before, only he left a strand hanging near her eyes.

  He snapped his fingers so the girls could sound off their praises.

  “Come.” He walked her into a back room where she found an array of clothes that would rival any collection.

  “You know why I have the girls?”

  He flipped through a rack of dresses. “No.”

  “They let me know when I'm not doing my best. They all have tells when they lie. Number one blinks too much. Number two licks her lips, and of course, number three stutters.”

  “They idolize you.”

  “It's all social engineering, darling.”

  “Social engineering,” Elena repeated, amazed and sat down on a bench in the back of the room. She might have misjudged the man. He was crazy, and worshiped everything shallow, but even in that vapid space there was a touch of the profound.

  “You do a lot of work for the team.”

  “I've dressed all the girls. Maricela was the only one I refused.”

  “Why?”

  “She screamed at me.” He turned around with serious glare. “Nobody screams at Donovan.”

  “She attacked me today.”

  “I knew she would. She's been wondering about you since they hired you. You be careful with her.” He switched to another rack, pulled out another dress and looked back at her. “Come here. Up!”

  She got up so he could hold the dress out. “Good. Go change.”

  She took the dress and walked back into the bathroom to change. When she walked out, the girls sounded off and Donovan gave her a spritz of perfume. “Marvelous.” He kissed her on the cheek and sent her away.

  Chapter 7

  Elena drove up ten minutes late and stepped out of the car with the slit of her bright red dress exposing her lower thigh. She was the archetypal night club singer, a model of sensuality, mystery and beauty. Pheromones were dripping from her body, mixing with the scent of gold and amber from Donovan's perfume. When she walked up to the porch, the door swung open and Diego's silhouette appeared out of the candlelight.

  “You look wonderful.” He grabbed her hand and led her inside. Then he wrapped his arm around her waist. “You got all dressed up for me.”

  “I've been meaning to see Donovan. Thought this would be a chance to dress up.”

  “I like it.” He stopped, stepped back and gave her a menacing grin while he looked her over, taking in every facet of her form. She couldn't believe that she was being appreciated by a man as gorgeous as he was.

  “Wine?” He asked, as he led her out onto the veranda. Grabbing a glass, he tipped it while he poured the wine in.

  “Sure. I have something for you, too.”

  He chuckled and handed her the glass. Then he met her eyes with a long and intense look.

  She blushed
and reached into her bra to pull out her cell phone. She tapped to the recording and pressed play. Maricela's shrill, east coast accent roared out of the speaker, saying that she wouldn't take the pregnancy test. When they'd both clearly had enough, Elena pressed stop.

  “If I hand this off to the right people, you’ll be off the hot seat and the media will move on to something else.”

  “What happened?” he paced around while she recounted the whole story.

  “She attacked you? Right in front of Chance, how did he let that happen?”

  “She's done. If she won't take the test, it casts a shadow of doubt on the whole thing.”

  “No. She's too dangerous, and she won't just go away. Get Chelsea to tell the police what happened and I'll turn over the videos she's been sending me. If she's getting violent, then she's escalating… she could be dangerous.”

  “I shouldn't have brought it up.” Elena took a drink of wine. “Let’s forget it for now, it adds too much tension. I just want this night with you.”

  “But what if she does something terrible?” He sat down and held his head in his hands. “You don't know this woman, Elena. She's up and down, crying and laughing. She even had a Santeria altar setup in her house dedicated to killing me?”

  “How do you know?”

  He pulled out his phone and showed her a picture of an array of candles and a bowl of what looked like blood.

  “Holy crap.”

  “I want her gone.”

  “That we can do. Three people saw what happened. Chance heard the whole thing. There are plenty of witnesses that will back me up when I go to the police.”

  “Chance won't put her in jail. I've shown him all the videos and told him about the things she's done. He said that if I put her in jail they'll have my contract terminated.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Because she's such a big star. The only way they'll let it happen is if they can't afford to keep her on the team. The videos would have been enough had she not lied about being pregnant. Now she's got too many people on her side. You have to release the tape before you send her to jail, and you have to do both quick because you're going to want her behind bars when she finds out what you did.”

  “She's already losing it.”

  “That's what's got me worried.”

  “You're safe here, aren't you?” Elena asked.

  “Yes, but what about you?”

  “I don't know...”

  “Stay the night.” He sat down next her, placing an unexpected expectation on her shoulders.

  She didn't say thing, or even move. She didn't know what to think.

  “I don't mean...”

  “Of course. I mean—I'll stay.”

  “Good.” He laid down on the cushion and pulled her into his arms. Then he tilted her chin up. “I don't want anything to happen to you. I like you.” He could be rough and tender all at once.

  “I like you, too.”

  He kissed her and wrapped his arm around her back. She did want him. He could have had her any time he wanted. He must have known, but he wasn't taking advantage of it. He wasn't pressing her forward or playing with her bra strap and grabbing her butt.

  He was just enjoying the kiss.

  He pulled back and with wide, innocent eyes and smiling like only a young lover could, he asked, “Are you hungry?”

  “I could eat.”

  “Good.” He stood up and took her hand to lead her down the steps of the veranda onto the beach where he'd setup a table surrounded by a ring of candles and white petals. He'd done everything he could to make it romantic.

  “It's not too much is it?” He sat down and straightened his napkin in his lap.

  “You're self-conscious.”

  “No. I'm not,” he blushed.

  “You are, but that's a good thing. It means that you care about what I think. That you really do like me.”

  “I do. I don't want you to think that I just want to sleep with you or that I'm some shallow idiot going for a girl he just met.”

  “I don't think that at all. I wanna try this. You're different… from any other guy I've dated. My boyfriends have all been the aspiring country club types, with good jobs and a clean cut appearance. Guys that I thought were good solid men. But it never seemed to work out. They were just better at hiding their vices, and they knew how to lie.”

  “Men like that hide themselves behind their fancy cars and designer clothes. Then they push down all their urges and eventually they come exploding out all at once. Nobody can keep that life up. That's why I'm honest. I tell people what I want.”

  “One thing I could say about my last boyfriend is that he never cheated. He was just bored. We'd go out to dinner the same day every week and talk about our days. Then we'd go back and watch a movie. We haven't done anything different than that for months. The worst part was that when we'd go to dinner, he'd never listen to a word I said. He wouldn't even look at me.”

  “He was a cheater,” Diego took a sip. “Even if he didn't cheat on you with another woman, his focus was elsewhere and that's just as bad. He was still unfaithful.”

  Elena smiled. “You're right. I never thought of it like that.” She watched the water move back and forth, while he did the same and they both looked back at each other from time to time.”

  “For you, miss.” A man wearing a white suit set a covered platter down in front of her. Then he opened it up to reveal a steak with potatoes and rice, covered in truffles and a thick, dark sauce.

  “Thank you,” she told the man. When he walked away, she asked, “How did he know when to come?”

  Diego held up his phone. “I manage everything here with this. That way I don't have to deal with the staff directly when I'm busy.”

  “That's genius. And this food. Truffles? Aren't these one of the most expensive things on the planet.”

  “Yeah, but I love them.”

  She took a bite and savored the rich, nutty flavor. “They are divine.”

  “Thank you.”

  They ate in silence watching the water and one another. When they finished, Diego set a blanket out on the sand and they finished their champagne while Diego held her. She didn't feel like she had to say anything. Diego was enough for her, and he seemed to feel the same way.

  Chapter 8

  Elena's biggest worry was that she'd end up in bed with Diego, and that she'd never be able to come back from it. She would have gotten drunk on him, and if he walked away, she never would have been able to recover, but nothing happened. They just held each other on the beach until they both got tired.

  There was no sexual pressure that night. He didn't even ask her if she wanted to be with him. In fact, he seemed to have anticipated her desire to take things slow, and made all of the considerations he could to ensure that she would feel comfortable.

  But she wasn't comfortable, because when the servant took her to her room, they had to separate. He was on the second floor while she was on the first, and it felt like there were lightyears between them. What was the point of ending the night like that when she could still be in his arms? She needed to be with him, and decided she wouldn't allow herself to make the same mistake again.

  Elena couldn't be without Diego. Her relationship had taken over everything else. She was starting to understand what she wanted out of life. She thought she wanted somebody to sit next to her on the couch and raise a family with, and that Tripp was the kind of man that could do that for her. But she was wrong. That life would have bored her to death, and a man like Tripp wasn't reliable. He was barely present, even when he was right there. She needed more.

  Diego's allure wasn't just his predatory stare or his beastly form. It was the thrill that he gave her. Elena was addicted to it. Every time he kissed her, it was like jumping out of an airplane. She was safe, yet she still felt like she was in danger, and there was no way that she could shake that feeling.

  It was a good thing and a bad thing. Ultimately, it could be lethal. She c
ould get hurt. He could walk away, and if he did, she'd lose everything. It felt like she was risking her life, but she couldn't stop herself.

  The next morning Elena tiptoed out of her bedroom and up the stairs towards Diego's room. She laid down on the bed beside him and laid her head on his shoulder.

  “Hey! What are you doing?”

  He pinned her down and leaped on top of her in an instant. Then he lunged down, growling like a beast and let the predator inside him loose. He'd never kissed her like that before. His kisses had been soft and slow, but once that predator came out, he lost whatever was holding him back, and he devoured her.

  He was like fire, eating her at her neck, then scorching her lips, so hot that his body warmth covered her in a smoldering blanket. His deep laughter echoed through the room when he sat up, ripped off her night shirt, and threw it on the ground, leaving her exposed to his teeth, his lips and his tongue.

  He started by kissing down her chest while cupping one of her breasts in his hand. Then he entered the space between her breasts, looked up at her with a menacing grin. Then his fingers shot sparks into her body when he pinched her nipple.

  “O-o-h,” she shuddered.

  “You like that?” he asked. Then he dove down and moved his tongue around her areola, letting it flick over the tip of her nipple. It burned softly, so sweetly that she could barely stand it. All of the warmth that he'd given her was falling down to her gut, trickling through her thighs like boiling magma, so hot that it threatened to scorch right through her.

  With kiss after sweltering kiss, he moved down her chest, and over her ribs, all the while maintaining eye contact. She felt his stare even when she tipped her head back and cried out. He had pulled down her panties without her even noticing and was clenching her clit in a fiery vice grip that sent hot fluid dripping from her.

  He laughed, like thunder clapping against the sky, and thrust his head between her legs, lapping up every drop. Then he moved towards the center and slowly parted her legs, letting the cool morning air mix with his hot breath while he let his tongue breach just past the surface, and rest inside while he swirled it slowly.