At least, her true nature belonged at the beach. But she did always have that drive to compete, that drive to do things herself. And I can in a way see that part of her would want to end up in a place like Baltimore.
But, still, something about it doesn’t quite add up. Why Baltimore? This is the last place on Earth I’d expect to find her.
What the hell is Lauren doing in Baltimore? Why didn’t she contact me all these years?
But I try to put the questions to the back of my mind. After all, I should be happy, more than happy, ecstatic, that I found her.
There’s no way she can run away from me now. After all, I’ve got her cell phone number.
But I had her cell phone number last time.
But I know where she works this time.
But I knew where she worked last time.
Oh well.
Fuck.
But wait, I know something is different this time. We didn’t talk much, except to exchange some dirty talk, and to make some sarcastic jokes at each other after it was over, but I know that we communicated something important anyway.
I know I’m not going to lose her. I simply can’t.
“That leg feel better?” says coach, as I walk by his hotel room on the way to mine. He’s got his door open so he can keep an eye on our comings and goings.
He’s got his feet propped up on his desk, reading the sports page of the newspaper.
“Yeah,” I say, stretching it out to its full length to demonstrate. “That girl’s really good. She really knows her stuff.”
“She came really highly recommended,” says coach. “So you ready for tomorrow?”
“Yeah,” I say. “I’m going to turn in early so I can be sharp tomorrow.”
“That a boy,” says coach. “Now get going.”
I’ve got my keycard in my room door when my phone beeps at me.
I look at my phone and it’s Lauren. I smile to myself. I knew she couldn’t keep away from me this time.
It’s a picture from her.
Holy shit. It’s of her naked breasts, looking bigger and juicer than ever, much more so than when we were in college. How did they grow so much?
Why does she turn me on more than ever before?
“More where that came from,” says Lauren’s text message.
I text back a thumps-up sign.
“What you got there, Dylan,” says Jimmy, a wide receiver who’s staying in the room next to mine.
“Nothing,” I say, holding the phone out of his reach.
But he’s a big guy, and he’s not a wide receiver for nothing. He shoves his weight into me, and with his abnormally long arms, which happen to be great for catching footballs, he grabs the phone.
“Holy shit,” he says. “You got a new lady friend already, eh? You work fast, buddy. Never would have thought you’d have so much luck in Baltimore .We just got into town!”
“It’s nothing,” I say. “Just the massage therapist.” That was a dumb thing to say.
This sends Jimmy over the hedge. He lets out a loud whoop. “Holy shit, man,” he says. “I guess it’s true what they say about happy endings.”
“She’s not that kind of woman,” I say, starting to get mad.
“Wow, buddy, I’m only joking. But the guys got to see this picture. This is some fucking hot shit. Yo, guys,” raising his voice so everyone can hear. “You guys got to come check this out. Hot lady, guys. See her while it’s hot. Read all about it.”
He’s doing this mock newspaper seller routine as the guys start slowly moving out of their rooms. I can hear the football gear shifting as they get up from their foot comas on their beds heading into the hallway like zombies hot on the scent of flesh.
The whole thing disgusts me, especially considering its Lauren’s tits they want to look at. Not just any Lauren, but my Lauren.
“Give it back to me, Jimmy.” I speak quietly, so that only he can hear me. “Or you’re not going to be playing tomorrow.”
“That so?” says Jimmy, bumping his chest against mine.
We’ve always been on friendly terms, but football players aren’t football players for nothing. A lot of them can be aggressive and incredibly defensive of their perceived strength and fighting abilities. I admit sometimes I can be the same way.
The difference with me is that no one’s ever beaten me in a fight.
I know he thinks that since he’s a bigger guy than me he can beat me any day.
But I know it’s not true.
“This is your last chance, Jimmy,” I say, my voice quiet and even-keeled.
“What the hell’s going on out there?” says coach, emerging from his room.
Half the team is in the hallway now. All the eyes are on us. They want to know what’s going on.
“Damnit, Jimmy, you can’t fucking take out our quarterback. He’s more valuable than the rest of you combined.”
That’s not going to help things any.
“Here’s your phone back, Dylan,” says Jimmy, swinging at me with the hand my phone is in. It’s gripped in the middle of his fist, which is huge and coming right at me.
But I’m not a pro athlete for nothing.
My reflexes are good. I’m fast.
I duck, and now I’m coming up at him from an angle he’s not expecting.
My right arm is caught up paring his blow. But I’ve always been good with both hands, both arms.
My left fist connects with his solar plexus in an uppercut motion.
The whole fight is over practically before it started, in just a few seconds.
Jimmy falls backwards, his breath completely gone, landing with a huge crash on the hallway floor.
“Damnit, Dylan, what the hell did you do?”
I reach down and pry my phone out of Jimmy’s fist.
I walk back to my room and sit on my bed.
I know it’s not a big deal at all, but my heart has started to race. I’m sure Jimmy and I will patch things up tomorrow before the game. He’s going to respect that move I just pulled, that’s for sure.
But it’s not Jimmy I’m worried about now. It’s not Jimmy I’m thinking about now.
It’s Lauren. I need to see her.
I check my watch. Maybe she’s done her shift at this point?
“Want to hang out tonight?” I write, and pause for a second before hitting the send button.
“I’m working at the diner tonight,” she writes. “Sorry, can’t.”
She puts a little frowny face in her text message at the end.
“I need to see you tonight,” I write.
It takes a full minute for her reply to come back.
“Come by the diner at the end of my shift,” she writes. She adds the name of the place, Joey’s Famous Shortcakes & Coffee, and the address.
Yes!
My heart is still beating fast, but for a different reason this time.
I can’t wait to see her again. Just once a day isn’t enough.
I plug the address into the direction application on my phone. Shit, this looks like it’s in a pretty rough part of town, judging from the pictures the phone is showing me. Half the buildings are falling down, or are about to.
What’s Lauren doing working in such a bad area? And why’s she working two jobs? I would have thought she’d be doing something really impressive with her life, some kind of powerful executive or lawyer or something, or a doctor.
I kill about four hours flipping through the channels on the hotel TV, until it’s 11pm and time to head over to Lauren’s.
I walk down the hallway, jingling my keys, thinking everything’s great, when coach suddenly pokes his head out from his door.
“Where you headed, Dylan?”
“Sorry about earlier, coach,” I say. “But Jimmy was being a real dick.”
“He’ll be fine,” says coach, with a wave of his hand. “It’s you I care about, Dylan. You’re the lynchpin o
f the whole team. That said, where the hell are you going?”
“Just to see a friend,” I say. “I won’t be late.”
“Damnit, Dylan. I thought you weren’t the partying type. Especially not the night before a game. I need you to be fresh tomorrow.”
“I’ll be back soon, coach,” I say.
“Dylan…” Coach is starting to say something, but I walk past him.
“With all due respect, coach, you can’t tell me where I can and can’t go, no matter what time it is.”
The area of the diner looks even worse now that I’m in the car driving through it.
Sitting in the parking lot in the car, I can see Lauren through the big diner window. She’s pouring coffee for some blue-collar workers. She sure as fuck looks hot in her diner uniform. I bet she gets some killer tips.
I go into the dinner and take a seat in a booth.
“What can I get you?” says a brusk waitress in her early twenties. She’s chewing bubble gum, and I can tell she doesn’t want to be here.
“I was hoping Lauren could serve me,” I say.
“Uhh…this is like my table,” says the waitress.
“You seem like a great waitress,” I say. “But I’d really like Lauren to serve me. You see, I’m Dylan Knight, you may have seen me on TV. I’m quarterback for The Rabbits. And Lauren’s my good luck charm. This is a tradition I have before every game.”
“You’re Dylan Knight?” says the girl, her eyes lighting up and widening.
I don’t like to play the pro athlete celebrity card much, and most of the time I avoid letting anyone know who I am. But for Lauren, I’ll do pretty much anything.
I nod my head, and ask again if Lauren can serve me.
The young waitress giggles and leaves. I see her speaking to Lauren who comes over to talk to me.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” she says, but there’s a smile on her face. “She’s going to be talking about how my boyfriend is the pro athlete Dylan Knight now. I’m sure as hell the boss is going to start asking me questions now like why I want to be working here. I’m supposed to be a poor working…” She’s about to add another word to that sentence but I can’t tell what it is.
Was she going to say “mom?” After all, that’s one of the only words that would fit.
But that wouldn’t make sense. Wouldn’t Lauren tell me if she had a kid, or was married?
There’s no ring on her finger, and I breathe a sigh of relief. It’s probably just my overactive mind imagining things again.
I grab Lauren’s leg at the knee, and surreptitiously slide my hand up her thigh. “I couldn’t wait to see you,” I say.
“I can see that,” she says, smiling. “I’ll bring you a coffee and a piece of apple pie. Frankly, those are the only two edible things on the menu.”
“Why are you working here?” I say.
“I’ll be right back with that,” she says, not answering my question, turning and walking away.
She comes back and delivers the coffee and pie, but has to disappear to another table to take some orders before I can talk to her any more.
I eat the pie and look around. I can’t keep my eyes off Lauren. The way she moves is hypnotizing, completely entrancing.
Finally, the clock hand has finished its round, and Lauren’s shift is over.
“Where do you want to go?” I say.
“I thought you only came for the coffee and pie,” she says, but I can see in her eyes that she’s just joking.
There’s some lust there.
Well, a lot of lust.
If this new Lauren is anything like the old Lauren I remember from college, she wants me just as much as I want her.
“We could go back to my hotel room,” I say.
“Won’t the team all be there?” she says. “I don’t want to create a media scandal or anything.
I think back to coach. “Oh yeah,” I say. “Actually, that might not be such a good idea. Well, what about your place?”
“Oh, I don’t know if that’s such a good idea, either,” says Lauren. She pauses for a moment, and I get the sense she’s looking for some excuse. “It’s really messy,” she finally says.
“I never minded a bit of mess,” I say. “Plus if you’re anything like I remember, you’re not in the least bit messy. You probably have a magazine out of place on the coffee table or something.”
She laughs.
I can see that she wants me.
But there’s something at home she’s hiding. A boyfriend, maybe?
Fuck. That would suck.
I hope not.
And after all that kind of game doesn’t sound the least bit like the Lauren I know.
“All right,” she says. “My place it is, then. Why don’t you follow me there in your car?”
“Sure,” I say, and give her a light slap on her ass as she walks over to her car.
She’s got some ancient clunker of a car. The wheels look like they’re about to fall off.
After a couple false starts, her car’s engine finally kicks to life.
I follow her through the dense Baltimore streets.
It’s already midnight, but the last thing on my mind is the game tomorrow. If it weren’t for Lauren, I’d be turning in early and getting the rest I need. But Lauren’s going to be the rest and relaxation I need to do well in tomorrow’s game.
I thought we might be leaving this neighborhood for a better one where Lauren lives, but instead we just drive deeper into a slightly worse area on the edge of this one.
She pulls up to a run down small row home.
“You really live here?” I say, getting out of my car.
“It’s what I can afford right now.”
“Maybe I can help you out with that,” I say. “They give me plenty of money, you know?”
“I’ve got a roommate,” she says suddenly. “So we’ve got to be quiet until we get into the bedroom. Fortunately my bedroom doesn’t share any walls with the other rooms, so we should be able to make as much noise as we want.”
“I like how you get right down to business,” I say, as I lean in and kiss her deeply on the mouth.
My hand is already up her shirt as she grabs my ass with both hands.
She squeezes, and I massage her right breast, which is just perfect, exactly how I remembered it from college, although somehow even better. They really have gotten bigger, I think to myself.
Not that I had any problems with the way she was. She could have any sized breasts in the world and she’d still be fucking perfect for me. Her body is going to turn me on no matter what.
After all, it’s Lauren.
My Lauren. Well, she was my Lauren.
I want her to be my Lauren again.
“Let’s go upstairs,” she says, taking me by the hand and leading me into her house.
As soon as she’s unlocked the door, we fall into a heavy embrace, making out passionately, as if we were back in college again.
“Shh,” she says, pulling away from me, and putting her finger to her lips. It’s dark, but just light enough that I can make out the gesture, and see her sexy outline.
“To your room,” I say, in my normal volume.
“Shh,” she says. “We’re going to wake him up.”
Him? She has a male roommate?
This whole situation seems weird. Why can’t she wake her roommate up?
But I don’t care right now.
She leads me by the hand, and I can feel my cock swollen and rock hard, threatening to burst through my jeans.
All I care about right now is Lauren, and getting her in bed.
She flicks the lights on in her room to reveal a cozy if not somewhat dilapidated room.
“Reminds me of a Rimbaud,” I say, surveying the room. “Things are better when they’re worn out.”
“I remember you talking about him a lot,” she says. “But you’re saying my room is worn o
ut?”
“I didn’t mean anything by it,” I say, trying to backtrack.
“I’m just kidding,” she says, smacking my ass playfully and giving me a wicked smile that’s full of lust. “Come on, stranger, let’s play.”
She flops down on the bed, and reaches up to pull me down.
But I don’t need any encouragement.
I fall onto her, and we’re both tearing each other’s clothes off at an incredibly rapid pace.
I can barely keep track of what’s happening. We’re just moving so fast.
So much for the romantic slow session I’d been thinking and dreaming about back at the hotel. But a hot fast passionate one isn’t bad either. Hell, all I can think about is getting inside her. She’s what I need. She’s my drug.
I’m sucking on her nipples, which are sharp enough to cut glass. I pause for a moment to look down at her body. She looks absolutely incredible, her hair fanning out along the pillow wildly.
She looks like a wild woman, completely naked, with her long hair, a wild look in her eyes.
There’s no way I can resist her. Not that I want to.
I’m running my hands along her body, down her thighs, gripping her ass, massaging her breasts at the same time with one of my large hands.
She’s already gasping and moaning, little short breaths that are driving me absolutely crazy.
Lauren’s reaching down and fumbling with my belt buckle. She’s panting so much, seemingly so overcome with excitement, that it takes her some effort.
But soon enough she’s got my jeans and boxers down around my hips, and my cock springs out, ready and at attention.
“I want to take you in my mouth,” she says.
“You drive me crazy when you talk like that,” I say. My cock is even harder now, if that’s even possible.
All I want to do is get inside her. I need to have her right now. But I hold off. It’s going to be hotter if I taste her first.
“I want to taste you,” I say, bending down to the space between her legs, and grabbing each thigh with my hands, pushing them slowly down towards the mattress, so that her legs are spread.
She arches her back and moans for an answer, using one hand to grip her breast. Just seeing that drives me over the edge. I have to taste her right now.
I yank her work pants down. Her panties are just left, and I yank these down to in one swift motion.
Football Baby: A Secret Baby Romance Page 9