Dirty Jock

by Sienna Valentine

  “It’s cool,” I said as I signed the form that said I was leaving against medical advice. “I know a guy.”

  Parker was, at first, furious. I couldn’t really blame her. I mean, she’d heard the diagnosis loud and clear while she was sitting there holding my hand. Not only had I left the hospital without much more than a splint for my nose, but I wanted to take a road trip? Now? In the dead of night?

  Like I could sleep, anyway. I was too amped up. I could see all the possibilities of my life lain out before me now. No way a man could sleep when he’d just realized he had a future.

  I’d planned on driving, but Parker insisted I sit the hell down in the front seat and relax. Which meant I had to tell her where we were going, which kind of ruined the surprise. She’d had the good sense to tell me to call ahead, though, which worked out in my favor, because when we pulled up to Iris and Slade’s new house, they weren’t nearly as annoyed with me as they could have been. Especially not Iris, once she saw who I’d brought with me.

  “Oh, my God,” my sister whispered. She looked up at me with wide eyes. “Is this her? Parker?”

  As if Parker wasn’t standing right there in front of her. I smiled. “That’s her. And she speaks English, by the way, so you can say ‘hi’ yourself.”

  “Hi,” Iris said, wrapping her arms around Parker in a hug my girlfriend obviously didn’t expect. “Welcome to the family.”

  All the blood rushed to my face, making it feel even more swollen than it had before. “Fuck’s sakes, sis, she’s my girlfriend, not my wife. Damn, you’re gonna scare her off.”

  Inside, Slade did his best to get me situated for the night, but he said I was gonna have to go to the hospital again in the morning. I could go to the one he worked at, which I knew would work with me and my odd request of “no pain pills, please,” and Parker and I were free to stay with them until I’d healed a little. We ended up making a weekend out of it, which was a nice way to get Parker introduced to everybody. I even let her visit with my mom and stepdad, which was not an experience for the faint of heart.

  “I don’t know what you were so worked up about,” Parker said to me on the drive home. “Everybody was really nice.”

  “Yeah, now,” I snorted in reply. “You should’ve seen us a few years ago. Incest, drugs, and rock n’ roll were all the rage.”

  Parker rolled her eyes at me, which was a gesture I got used to over the next few months. She and Thom ran their story on me and Senator MacFarlane, and by extension, the illegal fighting rings I’d been a part of. I was a local celebrity for a bit after that, and the senator himself made it a point to have a photo op with me, once my face didn’t look like chopped liver. I heard a few weeks later that there’d been a whole bunch of raids that went down at the same time, a blitz on the underground fighting world. Vic hadn’t been part of it. Apparently, he’d skipped town. Asshole.

  Karma eventually caught up with him, though. Apparently Thom had been keeping his eye out for any news, any new fighting circuits popping up in neighboring states. About half a year after I quit fighting, Vic fucked with the wrong ex-SEAL and got his head bashed in. He was trying to run the same scam he’d run back here, only now that there was a story about it out there on the Internet, his next victims figured it out before he could get them under his thumb. Vic ended up a vegetable rotting in a hospital somewhere, and it took a little while, but I eventually felt sorry for the guy. If he was dead, that wouldn’t have been so bad. But trapped in your body, unable to think, unable to do all the things you used to do, just pissin’ and shittin’ and droolin’ all over yourself day in, day out? That wasn’t living. That was hell.

  I wouldn’t have wished that fate on my worst enemy. But there was nothing I could do. I’d tried to warn him, in my own way. And some leopards just never changed their spots.

  The money I’d saved up, plus what Vic had left me with, gave me some time to think about what I wanted to do with my life. After a lot of thought, I realized that the reason I’d enjoyed my time in the Marines so much wasn’t because I was out there fighting for my life, but because I was making a difference for people back home. I was impacting lives with my service, ensuring that a new generation of Americans could enjoy the freedoms I always had. Or at least, that was what I’d told myself out in the desert all those years. When you were living the reality of a tour of duty, you didn’t really dwell too much on politics. You just towed the line.

  I wanted to feel that way again, and this time, I didn’t want to get anyone hurt or killed. But I was still a fighter at heart, and I always would be. So what could I do?

  Parker introduced me to the idea of teaching others how to defend themselves. And after a little research, I’d landed myself a job as a mentor teaching at-risk youths the fine art of boxing. I had to modify the program a little, of course—some things I was just better off not teaching to kids—but it ended up a huge success, both for the kids and for me. My class was the most popular one the local rec center offered, and my students all seemed to be getting a lot out of it. That was enough for me.

  Shit, though, it was so weird to think of myself as a teacher, when a year ago I’d been convinced I would never do anything but destroy people. Now I was building them up, making them into better versions of themselves every day. I was their rock as much as they were mine. We were all just taking it one day at a time.

  And Parker? Things with her turned out even more amazing than I could have hoped for.

  After she ran the story with Thom, her boss, Melanie Cartwright, had offered her a better position at The Spill. But Parker ended up getting an offer from The Daily Bazaar, a way more upscale news outlet that came with a private office and a damn fine pay raise, too. She missed the hell out of working with Thom for the first few months after she left, but then one of the sportscasters at the Bazaar got canned for putting webcams in the women’s restrooms, and upon Parker’s glowing recommendation, they hired Thom. She’d felt like she owed it to him, she said, but I think deep down, she just missed her friend.

  She got a lot of attention from other places, too. A lot of talk shows and shit wanted to interview her, to talk to the woman who’d exposed the seedy underbelly of underground fighting, and all that bull. Not that Parker hadn’t done exactly that, but the way everyone stalked her for months on end was a little frustrating for both of us. And then some asshole got it into his head that he could get his big break by “exposing” Parker for impropriety—basically alleging that her special relationship with me had tainted her judgment and the facts. I offered to find this fuckwit and make him take it back, but Parker just rolled her eyes and said it was part of the job. Besides, Thom ended up rooting the guy out, and I’m not sure what he said, but whatever it was, Parker was never bothered again. I’d respected the guy before, but he really impressed me that day.

  Everything had really fallen into place. Parker and I slowed down a little and decided to leave the family planning for later. Once we got past the “fucking like rabbits” stage, we saw things a little more clearly. And anyway, there was already going to be a new addition to the family soon. Iris just announced she was pregnant, which kind of almost meant I was going to be an uncle. Slade was too, sort of, and a dad. You can bet I gave him as much shit as possible for that, too.

  It felt so good to move forward. I was a mentor to kids like me now, playing the part of the big brother I’d always wanted, but had to grow up without. I was making a difference in people’s lives, and for once it was a positive one, one that made me feel genuinely good about myself.

  And things with Parker just couldn’t have been better. Well, I guess maybe they could’ve been a little better, because next week, after Thom and Andy’s wedding, I was going to propose to her. Thom had been ecstatic when I told him. He’d even helped me plan it out to ensure Parker got the most romantic moment she could have hoped for.

  Things were changing. But no matter what happened, as long as I had Parker at my side, I knew I could handle it
. With her, I was safe. I was home.

  Life was good.

  Bonus Book 4 - Unplugged

  The higher you soar, the harder you fall…

  Only a week ago, Noah Hardy was the biggest Rockstar on the planet. Besides his captivating good looks and deep, sexy voice, he was well known for his wild parties, crazy sexy life and uninhibited lifestyle.

  It seemed like everyone on the planet was a fan.

  Even me.

  But when everyone is watching, you’ve got to be extra careful not to screw up.

  And boy, did Noah screw up.

  Just like that, everyone turned on him – even his own band. And Noah responded by completely disappearing.

  Which made him seem even more guilty.

  And somehow it was up to me, Laurel Barnes, to find him and get an interview.

  I was only after his story. Nothing else.

  Certainly not his rock hard body.

  Definitely not his heart.

  But sometimes when you go looking for one thing, you end up finding something completely different.

  Something better.

  Chapter 1

  Noah

  I found her at a record store, thrusting her beautiful ass out to rifle through the dollar vinyl boxes that usually held old crooners from the 40s and 50s, or forgotten country acts that never left the dust of their hometowns. My mood was grim. A couple of young assholes had recognized me in my truck on the way over and thrown their half-finished can of energy drink at me as they raced by. The can didn’t hurt my truck, but impotent rage raced through my veins the rest of the drive, and by the time I got inside the record store, I was ready to take it out on someone.

  Her ass curved out like a bell from a thin waist decorated with three studded belts. She tied a gingham shirt up and under her huge tits, cleavage peeking out from under a stack of silver necklaces of different lengths. A shock of short, bright red hair completed her edgy look, and when she stood upright and saw me staring at her, she smiled at me and licked at the lollipop she had in her mouth.

  “Find what you’re looking for?” I asked her, eyes on her tits.

  “I think I just might have,” she said. Her voice was a high-pitched, purring sound, and she wiggled her hips when she talked.

  I stepped closer. Her chest and neck flushed with arousal, an effect I am all too used to having on women. At 6’1”, my height intrigues them from the start. But the cut muscles of my body, and the tattoos that decorate them, draw them in like moths around firelight. They know they are going to get burned, but they just can’t help themselves.

  “Do you live nearby?” I asked.

  She looked me up and down, a bit of fear in her eyes. But the smile on her lips said she liked it. “Uh-huh.” She bobbed the sucker in and out of her mouth suggestively.

  “Pick whatever you want out of there, and let’s get going,” I said, nodding toward the record box she had been searching through. I reached out and lightly caressed the meat of her thigh, and then I turned and headed for the front of the store, waiting.

  In a rush she gathered up the records she had been considering and sauntered to the counter on her wedge platforms. I threw a fifty at the cashier after he rang her up and told him to keep the change.

  I followed her to her apartment about three miles from the record store, sliding into the first parking stall I could find and keeping my hood up as I walked up to meet her. She waited with a grin on her face until I caught up, then took me by the hand and led me up a flight of stairs to her place.

  As she closed the door behind us and locked it, I asked her, “Do you have roommates?”

  “Just one, but she’s at work,” she said. She threw her coat and purse on an empty recliner and approached me with lust in her eyes. “I’m Nina.”

  “I don’t really care,” I said. “Is that a problem?”

  Nina threw her arms around my neck and rubbed her soft body against mine. My dick started swelling up, and I gripped her ample ass in both of my hands. She shrugged. “Not really.”

  “Good,” I said, smashing my mouth down against hers and kissing her hard and heavy, until she was whimpering under my mouth and grasping onto my shirt. She hiked one leg up on my hip, brushing her jean-covered pussy against me.

  “I want you on your knees,” I said, grabbing a handful of her colorful hair.

  Nina said nothing, only moaned like a bitch in heat as my hand helped her comply. She rubbed my dick through my jeans and looked up at me while I unfastened them and pulled out my thick, eight-inch piece. She immediately ran her mouth up and down its length, tongue warm and wet, lapping up the precum that had already gathered at the tip.

  “Suck,” I said. I held the base of my dick in one hand and Nina’s hair in the other as I fed her my hardened shaft until it hit the back of her throat. She moaned around my dick, sucking at it with abandon. This wasn’t the first time she’d deep throated someone.

  I didn’t even bother letting her take the lead. One hand on her head, I bucked my hips against Nina’s mouth, fucking her face, while she rubbed one hand down between her legs. Saliva dripped down her cheek every time I pulled out of her mouth, running down her neck and cleavage.

  I tilted her head up to look at me and told her to take off her clothes and bend over the couch. Nina smiled up at me, fuck-drunk already, and quickly pulled her shirt off to reveal her beautiful, fleshy tits. They filled my mouth one at a time before I let her stand to remove her jeans, and by then she was panting with desire.

  When she finally went to kick off her shoes, I stopped her. There was no need for that; I didn’t plan on staying that long. Instead, I bent her over the couch while she was still wearing them and lined my cock up to her dripping pussy. The smooth head teased up and down her slit, spreading her wetness around while she begged me to put it inside her.

  After quickly rolling on a condom, I obliged, sinking the entire length of my dick inside Nina in one hard thrust. She screamed into the cushions of the couch, a wail that never stopped as I pumped in and out of her from behind. Each cry was punctuated by desperate, rhythmic breaths, and the simple and repeated phrase, “Oh God, oh God…”

  With my eyes closed, I wrapped my hands around her waist and drove as deep and hard inside of her as I could. This was always the best way to forget everything that was bothering me, and today was no exception. The feel of her pussy around my cock was like heaven; the sight of her gorgeous ass pressing up against me with every thrust, beautiful. Soon I couldn’t even hear Nina’s screaming, lost as I was in the pleasure of her wetness, until the edge was upon me.

  Leaning over with a growl, I grabbed Nina’s hair and pulled hard as I came inside her, pushing deeper with every wave. Nina’s mantra was under her breath in a whisper now. She must have come, too.

  After withdrawing, I found my way to the bathroom to clean myself up and toss the condom. I splashed water on my face while I intentionally ignored the reflection staring back at me in the mirror. Nina was still naked when I came back out, but now she was wrapped in a knitted afghan on the couch instead of bent over it, ass up. Standing in the living room was another girl, though. Must have been the roommate. She has a backpack slung over her shoulder and a nametag still pinned on her polo shirt.

  They both stopped talking and looked at me when I entered the room. “Oh, hey,” I said, my stomach tensing at this unexpected intrusion. I just wanted to make my way out of here.

  The eyes of the new girl in the room went wide, and so did her mouth.

  Fuck. I knew that look. Nina hadn’t recognized me, but her roommate sure as hell did.

  “Thanks,” I said to Nina, raising a hand. “I’m gonna take off.”

  “Wait, I didn’t even—“

  “You’re Noah Hardy,” Nina’s roommate whispered. Then, more loudly, she added, “Oh my God, you’re him!”

  Nina gave a sour look to her roommate, and then back to me. “He’s who?”

  This was about to get a lot more messy,
so I just walked past both of them without another word, leaving Nina to catch up with her friend about the booty call she just had while I jumped in my truck and blazed away, anxious to get back home.

  For the first time in ten years, I didn’t know what the fuck to do with myself. I didn’t have studio time blacked out on my calendar; I didn’t have to scramble around getting everything ready for a three-month-long jaunt across the US or Europe; I didn’t have a gauntlet of copycat interviews to sit through for hours on end to promote a new album. I had nothing. My phone, usually blowing up so badly I often left it at home or on the bus just to get away from it, was silent as the grave. I guess what they say about fame and fair-weather friends was right.

  Luckily for me, I never let anyone get that close. Only my band brothers—and sometimes not even them. The absence of hangers-on trying to hook up with me for favors or weed or booty calls didn’t upset me. I wished I could say the same about the silence from Ash and Jeff. Duke’s silence, well… what the fuck else was new? That motherfucker has been waiting for me to trip up for years now.