Blitz: A Secret Baby Sports Romance Series (Books 1-5)

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Blitz: A Secret Baby Sports Romance Series (Books 1-5) Page 4

by S. J. Bishop


  She nodded. "Yes, thanks."

  "You look nice tonight."

  "Nice?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. "What am I, your great aunt?"

  I laughed and she smiled at me. Her teeth gleamed in the restaurant's light and her perfect mouth transformed once more into that Cupid's bow I was coming to know so well.

  "I was just trying to keep things professional," I said, swallowing the rest of my own champagne now.

  "Sure," she said. "That's why you picked Dorian's. The fanciest restaurant in all of San Francisco. Look at these tablecloths. They're velvet, for God's sake."

  I laughed in spite of myself. "Too much?" I asked.

  She nodded. The waiter came by, and I ordered another bottle of champagne, pleased to see Emma relaxing a little. A steady buzz began to sound in my ears, and my head grew heavier as we made our way through the second bottle. It was almost gone when the waiter came back and asked if were planning to order any food.

  "We haven't ordered yet?" Emma asked, laughing.

  "Give us a minute," I told the waiter. When he was gone, Emma and I looked over the menu together.

  "Do you see this stuff?" she asked. "Bird’s nest soup made with real bird's nest? Snails? I'm not eating snails."

  "What if I said they were good for virility?"

  "I doubt you need any help in that department, Jackson," she said, giggling. "If that kiss you gave me was anything to judge by, you must be the most virile player in the NFL."

  "Did you like that kiss? It was a little hard to tell from the way you slapped me and all."

  She giggled some more, and the sound was like music to my ears. I was getting a hard on just thinking about kissing her again, and that didn't even include all the other stuff I wanted to do to her. I swallowed the rest of my champagne and decided I'd better stop before I got too drunk to drive home.

  "I'm sorry about that slap, but you deserved it, you know."

  I shrugged and flashed my million-watt smile at her. This time, it had the reaction I had long been searching for. She smiled back. Her eyes sparkled that dazzling ocean blue. I reached across the table and stroked her hand with one finger. She stopped giggling and stared back at me. I could see the perspiration beading on her upper lip as she began to heat up. Her scent filled my nostrils. I longed to know whether she was wet between her thighs. If I reached down there now, what would I find?

  "Do you want to blow this place?" I asked. "We can go somewhere more low key. They close soon anyway."

  "I think... I think maybe I should just go home," she said.

  "Yours or mine?" I teased, disappointment rising in me.

  "Mine," she said, smiling and rising from the table. I sighed. I'd thought we were making such progress. I couldn't let her slip through my fingers, but it wasn't like I could force her to stay either. She tripped as we made our way to the door and almost slammed her head into the pavement before I caught her. The contents of her purse spilled over the ground, and the doorman rushed to pick it all up. Her hands wrapped tightly around my neck. Our bodies pressed together as I helped her up.

  "Are you okay?" I asked.

  "Mmm hmm," she said.

  "Are you sure you can drive?"

  "I only had as much as you," she said.

  I cocked one eyebrow at her. Her hands were still wrapped around my neck. She either didn't notice or didn't care. "But I weigh twice as much as you."

  "So you get to drink more? That's not fair!" she pouted and fell into a spell of giggles.

  "Wow, you really are kind of a lightweight, aren't you? Maybe I should just take you home. Where do you live?"

  "Brookside."

  "Okay, no problem. You can leave your car here and get it in the morning."

  "Maybe that's a good idea," she said, finally letting go of my neck. I was sorry to lose the velvet feel of her hands against my skin. She took her purse from the doorman with a thanks.

  "This is mine over here," I said, opening the door to my Porsche for her. She slid into the seat next to mine and I started up the car.

  "Ready?" I asked.

  "And willing," she said, batting her lashes playfully. "Thanks for the ride."

  We peeled out of the parking lot and were almost to her apartment before she realized she didn't have her keys.

  "Shit!" she said, throwing her purse to the floor.

  "What?"

  "I don't have my keys!"

  "Hey, it's alright. I'm sure they're here somewhere. Did you check all your pockets?" I reached out to touch her cheek, hoping to calm her down.

  "Yes!" she snapped. "Of course I checked my pockets. I'm not stupid." She slapped my hand away harder than I would have expected, and for a second I got distracted, paying more attention to her than to where I was going. When I looked back at the road, I realized we were headed straight for a tree.

  11

  Emma

  I kept glancing at Jackson as his Porsche sped fast and hard toward his house. He drove with expert precision, and I couldn't help but feel the dampness between my thighs as the engine purred beneath me. Every time it roared to life, I felt my ass tingle. It was as if some unseen force was trying to work its way deep inside me.

  "Thanks for driving me home," I said. We were almost back to my place. Should I ask him to come up? No. If you do that, you're jumping into bed with him. Right, I had to keep things professional.

  I opened my purse to get my keys ready. I wanted to get out of Jackson's car and into my place as quickly as possible. They weren't in the pocket where I usually kept them. I dug through the assorted makeup and change purse, coming up empty. My heart skipped a beat.

  "Shit," I said.

  "What?"

  "I don't have my keys!" I threw my purse on the floor, pissed. If I didn't have my keys, then I couldn't get into my apartment. If I couldn't get in, then I would have to stay with Jackson. I wasn't sure I could stay with him and control myself.

  "Hey, it's alright. I'm sure they're here somewhere. Did you check all your pockets?" He reached out to touch my cheek.

  "Yes!" I snapped. "Of course I checked my pockets. I'm not stupid." I slapped his hand away harder than I meant to.

  "Fuck!" Jackson cried. I looked up and saw that we were headed straight for a tree. My heart skipped two beats. Jackson swerved just in time, and the car fishtailed on the road for a second before straightening back out.

  "Don't do that!" he snapped. His tousled bronze hair, highlighted with streaks of brown sugar and pale red, shone as he turned to me with angry eyes.

  "I'm sorry," I said. My throat was dry. I tried licking my lips, but my tongue only stuck to them. My heart palpitated wildly. Suddenly, I was sober, and tears pricked at the corners of my eyes.

  "Relax," Jackson said, sighing. He put his hand on my knee and gave it a soft squeeze. "We'll find your keys. You probably dropped them at the restaurant when your purse fell." I relaxed as I realized Jackson was probably right.

  "Yeah. Right. Can we check?" I felt the blood move back into my face and tried to breathe normally. Jackson took his hand off my knee, and I was sorry to see it go. What the hell was the matter with me? Jackson was just another athlete. I'd only be another notch in his belt, nothing more.

  "Of course we can," Jackson said. He turned the car around, and we sped back to the restaurant. Jackson gunned the engine on the way, showing off every time we had an open stretch of road. He was still trying to impress me.

  Back at the restaurant, the lights were dark and the place looked deserted. "How can they be closed?" I asked, panic welling in my chest. "It's only eleven."

  "It's a weekday," Jackson said. "They close at ten. They were already starting to clean up when we left."

  We searched the ground where my purse had fallen but found nothing. There were some bushes and flowers lining the path to the restaurant, and I dug through them frantically.

  "They're not here," I said. "Shit." I rose from the ground and peered inside the restaurant. I could see a light on
in the kitchen and could hear music playing. There still had to be a few people in there somewhere. I knocked on the door, but no one came. I saw shadows moving in the kitchen, but they were either ignoring me or didn't hear me over the music.

  "It's okay," Jackson said, placing one strong hand on my shoulder. The other hand followed, and soon Jackson was massaging my back right outside the restaurant. His hands felt amazing through the thin fabric of my dress. I could feel the callouses on his fingertips, rough yet gentle, as he traced my spine.

  "Let's go back to my place," he said. "Your keys are probably locked up inside. We can get them in the morning."

  I hesitated, but having no other options that immediately sprung to mind, I agreed to go with him. The engine of his Porsche roared to life once more as we sped back to his house. I kept shooting glances at him as he drove. He kept his hands on the wheel, but I could see his grip tighten around it every time I looked at him.

  "Sorry about this," I said.

  "No worries. You can come home with me anytime." He turned and wiggled his eyebrows at me, and I giggled. Without thinking, my hand reached out and touched his arm. His muscles were hard and flexed as my fingertips brushed his skin. He stiffened slightly, and I saw the corners of his lips curve into a smile.

  "Here we are," he said, pulling up to a wrought iron gate. He pushed a button and the gate opened. We drove up a long, curving driveway toward his home. It was a fucking mansion. White pillars lined the façade, reminding me of the White House. A fucking fountain sat on his front lawn, with giant bushes cut into the shapes of animals.

  "Jesus," I said. The place took my breath away. It was like something out of a picture book. Jackson laughed and stopped his car right in front of the door. He came around and opened my door, taking my hand to help me out. A sharp tingle shot up my arm where he touched me.

  "Let me give you the tour," he said. He took my hand, pulling me along from room to room as he explained the details of his art collection, his car collection, and his sports memorabilia. It was almost like being in a museum, except it was warmer. Amid the many collections of antiques and fineries, there were also snippets of Jackson's personality. Tomcats pennants lined the walls. Pictures of his family sat on dresser tops and mantels. It made the place inviting. My hand began to sweat inside his.

  "And the best part of it all," Jackson said, pulling me through the French doors leading into his backyard, "is the swimming pool."

  My eyes opened wide when I saw the Olympic-sized pool sitting on his acre of land. "Wow," I breathed. We stepped out onto a huge deck that wrapped around the entire backside of the house. Beneath it sat the largest, prettiest pool I'd ever seen. It was shaped like a football.

  "Yeah," he said, "wow." His eyes bore so deep into me that it almost felt like they were touching my soul. My heart fluttered in my chest, and I felt myself blushing. I was overly sensitive to the fact that my hand was perspiring, but I didn't want to let go of him.

  "Wanna go for a swim?" he asked, pulling me down the stairs and closer to the pool. His scent was intoxicating. It drifted through the air, a strange combination of musk and sandalwood that energized my whole body. Jackson squeezed my hand in his and pulled me a little more toward the edge of the pool.

  "I don't have a swimsuit," I said. I almost stammered when I spoke. This wasn't like me. Why was I so nervous?

  "That's alright," Jackson said, finally dropping my hand. "Neither do I."

  He stripped out of his clothes. I knew my mouth was hanging open, but there was nothing I could do. I couldn't stop myself from staring at the hard mass hanging between his tight, golden thighs. He smiled and turned around, giving me a view of his perfect ass. Then Jackson jumped in.

  "Come on," he said as his head surfaced. His matted hair dripped water into his eyes. His muscles flexed, shiny and wet. "The water's fine." He shot me a million-watt smile, and my panties grew as wet as he was. I stripped down and jumped in with him.

  12

  Jackson

  I knew when she agreed to go home with me that I had her. Her hair gleamed golden in the moonlight as she stripped naked and jumped into the pool. I went to her as she surfaced from the water, breathing heavily. Her sweet scent filled my nostrils. Even through the chlorine, she smelled like lavender in springtime.

  Beads of water ran over her breasts as they bounced in and out of the water. Her perfect milky skin shimmered under the starlight. I kissed her smooth, wet neck. She groaned and ran her hand up along my arm, testing my muscles. I tightened them, flexing for her. Whatever got her wet. She pressed her face against me, her feather-light kisses running up and down my chest. My skin buzzed each time her lips brushed my skin.

  "I've wanted you since the first time I saw you," I whispered, my hot breath whistling in her ear.

  "I thought you were a jerk the first time we met," she whispered back. "But I wanted you, too."

  As I tugged gently on her nipples, her arousal became apparent. Her dark nubs stiffened as I pinched them between my calloused fingers. Throwing footballs had not been kind to my hands, but she liked it a little bit rough. I could tell. I teased her, first tugging then massaging her breasts, making her groan. I knew her wetness was not just from the water.

  I kissed her neck again, sliding my tongue along the silky smooth nape of her neck. Her arms shivered as I rolled her other nipple between my fingers.

  "Is the water too cold?" I asked.

  She reached between my legs with hands so soft it felt like clouds were sweeping over my erection instead of fingertips. "Doesn't seem too cold to me," she whispered back, smirking.

  My body stirred as her hands played with me, testing me to see if I was done growing or if there was still more of me to see. I swirled my tongue over her tender nipples, tasting water as I tasted her. The chlorine burned my throat, but in a good way. Like a strong scotch from the perfect vintage.

  She lowered herself under the water, taking my cock into her mouth. Her lips wrapped tightly around my shaft as she moved in a quick succession of bobs and pulses. Entering her mouth was like going through a door that led to a heated rainforest. I felt the rough edge of her tongue as she twirled it over my tip. Her hair floated in the water, and I wrapped it around my hand, guiding her as she stroked me with her mouth. She was trying to make me cum, but I had other ideas. I pulled her up and let her breathe before reaching down to touch her.

  She groaned as I spread her legs and found her soft, pink center. My grin widened. My cock bulged as I pushed my core against her, sliding my fingers deep inside her. The water made everything wet, though I knew if we were on dry land, nothing would change. Her pussy was a hot, moist cave waiting for me to fill it.

  I took a breath and went under the water. Her pussy was like cotton candy, melting sweetly in my mouth as I pressed my lips to her. Her hands sat on my head as I made her shiver. I felt her hole tighten the more I swirled my tongue over her delicate clit. She arched her back, pressing herself harder against me. It was an invitation I couldn't resist. My tongue sailed past her gateway, entering her hot cave and reaching as far back as I could go.

  My lungs felt like they were going to burst, but I couldn't stop. Her whole body was shaking violently. I pulled my tongue out and swirled it around her clit again before going back into her hole. Her knees shook, and if it weren't for the water holding her up, she would have fallen flat. Finally, I came up for breath. The sheen of her alabaster skin emitted a soft yellow glow that made her look like some rare, mystical creature.

  "I wanna hear you say it," I breathed, reaching down through the water to touch her again. She groaned and pressed her hips to mine, squirming against me. "Say it," I commanded.

  "Fuck me, Jackson," she breathed back. "Fuck me now."

  I pushed her to the side of the pool, bracing myself so that I wouldn't slip. Emma's thighs opened wide for me. I lined myself up with her opening and pushed. The tip of my cock slid inside her. It was like slipping into a sauna. I pushed deeper, one hand
gripping the side of the pool, the other gripping her breast. I squeezed it hard as I pounded into her, and she bit her lip.

  "Again," she said, and I pounded harder. Her hips met mine, fucking me as I pushed every inch I had into her. She moaned loudly, her eyes rolling back, and I started to move faster. She wrapped her legs tightly around my waist as the water around us came to a boil. The water supported her weight as she floated in front of me, her legs tying me to her. She dug her nails into my back, and I hardened inside her.

  "You've wanted this all along, haven't you?" I asked, tugging at her ear with my teeth as I rammed my hips into her.

  "Oh God, yes," she groaned, rubbing her hips in circles now. My hands grabbed her ass. It was tight and perfect. I slowed my pace, going deeper and making her beg for it.

  "Are you teasing me?" she asked, her eyes a sparkling blue, like periwinkle ice crystals.

  "Yes," I told her, smirking.

  "Don't tease," she said, biting her lip. She kissed my chest lightly, like butterfly wings flapping up and down my bare skin. "Please," she said, and I felt her urgency. "Fuck me."

  "Next time I try to fuck you, what are you gonna do?" I asked, continuing to taunt her.

  "Open wide," she said, smiling and slapping my ass, catching me off guard. I laughed and pounded my cock deeper into her as she wriggled against my hips. Her pussy tightened around my cock as I thrust it deep and hard inside her. My body began to ache. My cock grew, beating inside her like a drum. My head exploded with the celestial sound of her voice as she moaned into the night and the lavender fragrance of her skin as she began to cum.

  I pounded against her once, twice, three times, until my seed spurted into her, hot and wet, filling every inch of her. Emma's head fell back, and her body hung limp in my arms. She kissed my neck and looked up at me, her eyes two pools of their own, brighter and bluer than the one we stood in.

  "I needed that," she said.

 

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