by Angela Blake
A Secret Baby Sports Romance
Blaire
Blaire Hamilton wiped the sweat off his brow and squinted as he spat out the brittle collecting in the corner of his mouth. He hunched over, placed his hands on his hips and took a deep calming breath.
He just had the wind knocked out of him, that was all.
He just needed to get the air back in his lungs, so he waited for the searing pain he felt from within to subside before looking back.
While he waited, he knew he should take advantage of the situation and study the opposing team’s weakness.
They left one of their players open, and Blaire knew that in a few minutes once they let him back in the game, he would be able to take him out easily.
As the pain in his chest subsided, he leaned back and blinked to clear his vision. He had been so focused on the point guard, he didn’t notice the basketball that came flying out of nowhere and collided into him smack dab in the middle of his chest.
He was a bit winded, but he also really needed the time out to regroup and clear his head.
His head dropped forward, and he scanned the crowd, taking in the smell of stale sweat, freshly brewed popcorn, and he could almost taste the tension in the air.
This is why he loved being in the NBA.
The rush, the adrenaline, the lights, and how a hush fell on the crowd as all eyes turned to him. He loved taking stock of how people held their breaths in collective anticipation as he dribbled the ball, stood poised and then let it fly through the air knowing that in most cases, it usually landed with a final swoop causing the crowd to erupt into a frenzy of love and cheers.
Most people would find being center stage intimidating, but Blaire wasn’t like that. He relished it so much, and he had been working towards it for years. Pretty much since he picked up a basketball in high school.
At 27 years old, Blaire was the youngest player on the team, but he was scouted pretty much once he got to college. He just put it off so he could get a degree in History, which had always been a passion of his.
The scout was peeved at his decision, but knowing that players like Blaire only came along once in a blue moon, had agreed to hold off on making a formal offer provided he could still play as well four years later.
As soon as he graduated with a bachelor’s degree in History, Blaire had showed up, made a slam dunk and left the scout with his mouth hanging open.
The rest, as they say, is history.
Blaire stood up abruptly and began to stretch his muscles. He shook his head in an attempt to clear his shaggy brown hair out of his eyes.
Need to get a bloody haircut, he thought to himself as he continued to stretch his muscles. Blaire’s blue eyes scanned the crowd nonchalantly as he idly wondered who he would pick up for the night. The team would probably be having a party afterwards, and he also liked to have female company. As his shirt rode up to reveal a finely taut stomach, he heard some of the women nearby sigh and mutter his name.
He turned around and gave them a quick wink as his eyes roamed over them. Too young, he thought as he dismissed them and eyed another potential group in the back who were waving and screaming frantically so he could notice them.
He raised an eyebrow in acknowledgement and flashed them a row of pearly white teeth. His eyes immediately landed on a petite blonde in the middle who even from his vantage point had voluptuous curves and a nice rack.
She licked her lips suggestively, and he could immediately feel himself getting turned on just by looking at her. He mouthed the words ‘later’ and turned around before he got a massive boner that would make him unable to focus for the rest of the night.
A flash of chestnut brown hair caught his attention, and Blaire frowned as he saw the brunette walk by. His heart skipped a beat as he wondered for a moment if it was her.
Sienna Hummel.
He hadn’t seen Sienna since he graduated from college, and the thought of her being there had his heart anxiously skipping ten beats, as his palms began to grow sweaty.
He gritted his teeth and told himself to get over it. Sienna wasn’t here. There was no way. He had ended things once he graduated because he knew that Sienna wanted a nice quiet life, and he wanted more.
He had loved her once, but he loved the sounds of girls screaming his name on and off the field even more. It was that thirst and lust for fame and the lifestyle that came along with it that drove him to end it; that, and her deception.
He shook his head to clear away the remnants of the past and turned around to find his team mate and best friend, Mark Berry come running towards him.
Mark ran his hands through his shaggy blonde hair, making it stick up on all ends. His green eyes scanned Blaire carefully, “Are you ready to be back in the game man?”
Blaire gave a swift nod, “More than.”
Mark gave him a grin before he shoved him towards the court, “Alright, I’m out for a few.”
He plopped onto the bleachers, and Blaire ran towards the center of the court where his team was huddled. They went over a strategy before calling out break.
Before the referee blew the whistle, Blaire cast his glance upwards once more and flashed the petite blonde from earlier a panty-dropping grin that had the blonde tighten her legs in response.
Blaire smirked at her response before turning his attention back to the game just in time for the referee to blow the whistle.
*****
Blaire took a swig of his beer as he made his way in and out of the throngs of people in the tightly packed space. Mark sure knew how to throw a hell of a party. And he never got in trouble with the neighbors who beat the hell out of Blaire.
Blaire was sure he could never get away with something like this despite being the MVP of their team.
“Great Job Blaire-out!” somebody called out from across the room. Blaire cringed at the use of the detestable nickname but called out a thanks to the man nonetheless.
They called him ‘Blaire-out' because he once accidentally tossed the ball so hard it caused one of the other players to black out mere seconds later. Blaire had freaked out, run over and dropped to his knees to check on the man’s pulse, but he was fine. The man was merely dehydrated, and a ball to the head simply didn’t help.
Blaire had breathed a sigh of relief and told the rest of the team, but they didn’t believe him. They still thought he could do what they thought he did. Blaire didn’t mind really because it earned him respect on the court, and it made women flock to his side thinking that he could make them black out because of a mind numbing orgasm.
While his sexual prowess wasn’t quite that intense, he did pride himself on being able to get a woman to scream out his name multiple times while he made them feel better than they ever had in their entire life.
He finally found his way back to the blonde-Hannah was her name-and he stood there a moment admiring her frame. She had changed out of the jeans and tight fitting shirt she had on earlier, and now she had on a skimpy pink dress that was so tight, her breasts were practically spilling out of it.
He felt himself growing aroused, but he still stood there watching as she tossed her blonde hair back and bit her lips. He didn’t like to rush these things. He liked to take his time, so that by the time they got to it, the woman would be begging him to take her.
The man Hannah was talking to saw Blaire, gave him a nod and moved out of his seat. Blaire nodded at him in acknowledgement before he plopped down onto the couch next to Hannah. She practically purred and pressed herself up against him as she breathed quietly down his neck.
“Do you guys always have parties like these?”
“Pretty much after every game,” he took a swig of his beer and brought his arm to rest on her shoulder. He idly traced patterns on her back and was happy to find that her body shuddered in response. He turned so he was facing her, and in one swift movement he had her on his lap. He casually placed a hand on her lap while the other toyed with the hair at the ba
ck of her neck.
He shifted and grabbed his jacket off the back of the couch and placed it on her lap casually, so that his hand was able to move freely.
“I heard you studied History in college.”
Blaire chuckled as his hands lingered on the edge of her dress. She was trying not to show how affected she was, but he could see by the way she bit off the end of her sentence.
“Somebody’s been doing their research,” Blaire’s other hand moved below her dress and toyed with the straps of her bra. Hannah gulped as she placed both arms around either side of his face.
“I did study History, yes.”
“What was your favorite era?”
The hand that was hovering on the edge of her dress snaked underneath and began to rub her inner thighs. Hannah’s legs tightened in response, and Blaire grinned as he pressed a swift kiss on her neck, lingering there long enough to feel the goose bumps rise up and down her arms.
He pulled back. “I don’t have a favorite era, but I was quite obsessed with Scottish history.”
“Oh?” She tried to sound interested, but he could already see her brown eyes cloud over with lust.
“Oh, yes. Studying the highlanders and their riots was really quite interesting.”
“Interesting, yes,” Blaire’s hands had begun to move upwards and they rested just inside her thighs, but not anywhere near where Hannah wanted them to, and Blaire knew that.
He wanted her to be fully ready, so he pulled his hand away and moved it to her feet. He began to massage her feet while his other hand massaged her shoulders.
Hannah tried to keep her eyes from rolling to the back of her head.
“I also took a biology course,” he added nonchalantly as he captured her lips with his. Instead of deepening the kiss like they both wanted to, Blaire kept his mouth closed and steady, settling for a mere peck on the lips to keep her thirsty for more.
“What did you learn?” Hannah’s brown eyes sparkled as she gazed at him, clearly trying to figure him out.
“Well, there’s a vein in your neck,” His hand moved up and settled on the vein in question, “This vein sends out a lot of important signals to the brain, if this vein is severed, you die instantly,”
Hannah looked at him and blinked, confusion mirrored all over her features.
“This vein is also the most sensitive, so if I were to do this.” He placed his lips directly over the vein without touching it and simply breathed deeply. The result was instantaneous.
She shivered slightly as goosebumps erupted all over her body. “Your entire body will be affected,” he added as he placed a feather light kiss on the vein.
Hannah’s hands tightened on his neck, and she made an impatient noise in the back of her throat. Blaire stood absolutely still waiting to see what else she would do. She wriggled her hips suggestively, and Blaire bit back the groan as he cocked an eyebrow at her.
He stood up abruptly and gave her his hand. “Let’s go somewhere quieter, and I’ll give you a private lesson.”
“I’m sure you’re an excellent teacher,” she said flirtatiously.
They moved through the house until they found an empty room, and they stumbled into it, tearing each other’s clothes off as they fell onto the bed.
Blaire
Blaire groaned as he groped around for the alarm coming from somewhere underneath the pile of clothes. He cursed under his breath when he couldn’t find it and knew that if he just ignored it, the incessant shrill would simply grow louder.
He grumbled as he fumbled blindly for the alarm and finally found it wedged between a pair of old smelly socks. He attempted to switch it off in the blackness and instead ended up accidentally breaking it.
He stared at the broken alarm clock, shrugged and made his way to the blinds. He drew the curtains back and flinched against the sudden onslaught on his senses. Bringing his hands up to shield his bloodshot eyes, they traveled the expanse of the room looking for his pack of cigarettes.
He didn’t smoke often because it would be hard to breathe properly while he was in a game, but he liked to indulge every now and again, and this was one of those days. He was so hung-over, he could barely think straight, and not for the first time, he wondered why people drank so much when the next day it felt like multiple hammers joined by a crew of men drilling holes into his head.
He picked up his pack of cigarettes, placed one between his lips and fumbled around in his jeans for a lighter.
“The lighter is on the floor,” a husky voice said from the bed.
Blaire froze as he kept his eyes trained on the floor and tried to remember the name of the woman in his bed.
Think, he urged his brain as he racked it for a clue. Something with an H - Henrietta, Harriett.
Hannah, a voice in the back of his head screamed. His head snapped up. “Hannah, babe, why are you awake?” He strolled over to where she was laying down looking hot as hell and making Blaire reconsider getting to that photo shoot on time.
She pouted at him. “Don’t feel like round two?”
“Round two?” He chuckled as he twirled a lose strand of hair between his thumb and forefinger. “Baby, I’m pretty sure we reached round six or seven.”
He found the lighter underneath the bed and cupped the cigarette between his fingers while he tried to light it up. He exhaled deeply and let the smoke fill his lungs before he viewed Hannah through a cloud of smoke.
“Well, how about round eight then?”
Blaire considered carefully as he took a long drag of his cigarette and let the smoke out in O’s that flew right past Hannah’s face. She scrunched her face in annoyance, but he knew that she wouldn’t call him out on that. No woman ever did. They were too afraid he’d just up and leave. No woman, that is, except Sienna.
He shook his head to clear away the remnants of her ghost, and to answer Hannah’s question. “Sorry sweetheart, I’ve got somewhere I’ve got to be.”
Blaire found an ash tray on the table, and stubbed out his cigarette before turning around to give Hannah a brief wink. Hannah looked at him coquettishly, and he had to admit it made him feel very hot and bothered, but he made it a point never to sleep with the same person twice, lest they started to expect things, and this wasn’t any different.
Blaire noticed how Hannah eyed the tattoos on his back with mild curiosity. He had Led zeppelin inked onto his arm, and he had a tattoo of a Latin saying on his back, something he had taken in history class. He also had a bunch of other odd quirky tattoos that he got just because he thought the tattoos would make him look bad ass, and he did.
He smirked as he casually strolled over to her side and took her hand in his. He stroked it for a minute then guided her hand so it was placed firmly over his crotch. “This is how horny you make me. I want to do all kinds of things to you, and in all kinds of ways.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Hannah gulp and shift closer. He knew that she was gulping because she was secretly picturing it. He leaned forward and gently nibbled on her ear before pulling back and straightening his sweat pants.
“You can show yourself out, sweetheart.” He strolled towards the bathroom and switched on the shower head. As he waited for the water to heat up, he kept his ears perked for the sound of the door shutting.
Sure enough, a few minutes later he heard the quiet click that let him know that Hannah had left. Its better this way, he thought to himself as he stripped to his boxers. He knew that most of them only wanted one thing from him. To spend a night with the notorious bad boy, Blaire Hamilton, was like being the most popular girl in high school. Everybody would want to be them.
He kicked off his boxers and stepped into the shower. A sigh of relief immediately escaped his lips as he felt the hot water cascade down his back, soothing away the sore muscles.
He emerged a while later and donned a pair of ripped jeans and a form fitting black shirt. He found his keys after a couple of failed attempt
s and as he rummaged around for his phone, he heard it ring.
He finally found it a moment later. “I’m on my way,” he said as soon as he found the phone.
“We’re waiting for you,” his manager’s voice came in through the speaker sounding mildly strained. He wasn’t that late, was he?
He took a quick glance at the watch. Well, maybe he was a little late, but it wasn’t his fault that he spent that long debating whether or not to ravish Hannah.
He pulled on his jacket and grabbed his helmet on his way out. He hopped onto his Harley Davidson, revved up the engine and slipped on his helmet. Once he was sure he was ready to go, he pressed his foot to the gas and sped off towards the downtown modeling center.
*****
Blaire tried not to scowl as he squirmed in his seat while the hairstylist and makeup artist fretted over him. He rolled his eyes and made a mental note to kill his manager, Bill, later.
The only reason he had agreed to the photoshoot was because it was good publicity, and it would probably help pay for a brand new bike.
He dared to smile at the idea as he heard a drawer fly open behind him. The hairstylist landed with a loud smack onto the floor, and everybody suppressed their giggles at the sight of her sprawled there, looking sheepish.
“I meant to do that,” she called out as everybody openly laughed. Once they were finally done, Blaire ripped off the apron and allowed himself to fully look in the mirror. They hadn’t cut his hair too much. They left enough to make it look artfully messy.
Blaire stood up and saw a girl giggle from the corner of his eye. He gave her a quick wink as he headed towards the set. He might have time for that later, but for now it was all about the work.
He headed to where they told him to stand, and he stood on his mark and hooked his thumbs onto his pockets.
“Move a little to the side,” the photographer called out from behind the camera.
He raised an eyebrow. “I’m pretty sure I know where my mark is.”
The photographer lowered the camera and faced him with a mildly annoyed look on his face. “Be that as it may, honey, you still have to move a little bit to the right.”