Stallion: A Bad Boy Sports Romance

by Autumn Avery

  What’s wrong with one of those rooms?! I can’t help thinking. But finally we reach the exam room and step inside.

  “So what seems to be the problem?” The doctor says, glancing at my chart. You always have to repeat yourselves at the clinic, but I tell him the same thing I told the lady out front. He nods slowly and closes my file.

  “Okay,” he says. “Well, I’m just gonna take some blood. It’s probably a bug, but we’ve had a real nasty virus going around, so I’d just like to be safe.”

  Ugh. I’m not a huge fan of needles, but my veins are really easy to find, so the whole process is over quickly. The slight pain actually takes my mind off my stomach, which is back to tossing and turning like the Atlantic Ocean.

  As the doctor leaves, my mind keeps drifting back to Walker. He’s been invading my mind a lot lately, and I don’t know why. The last four weeks I’ve been pretty good at focusing on other things, but the last few days have been strange. It’s like my mind is a football field and my defense line is struggling to keep him out of my end zone. And everyone knows – no one stops the Stallion.

  Even though I’m alone, I groan out loud. “The Stallion!”

  And how annoying is it that the best sexual experience of my life, my go-to thought for when I need a little “me time,” is with a guy I’m desperately trying to keep out of my mind?

  The way he just manhandled me like that, giving me exactly what I needed without me even knowing myself. Walker was a sexual God. There’s no way around it. No matter how I feel about him, I have to admit that. And keeping those thoughts buried deep down is growing more and more impossible.

  I’ve laid down the law with Abbey: no bringing up Walker Johnson. As far as we’re concerned, the whole thing never happened. It’s the same thing with Ronald. I don’t want to think about either of them. I don’t want to be reminded of them, I don’t want to relive it or hear about it from anybody.

  The only two men from my college experiences were huge mistakes, and I’m more than willing to wipe the memories of them from my mind.

  The doctor returns, snapping me out of my stupor, and I realize I’ve been daydreaming for more than ten minutes. The cool air has helped me to stop sweating, but my stomach’s still not too happy. God, I better not have a virus. But the doctor is smiling, so it must be good news.

  “No virus!” he says.

  “Thank God,” I say, relieved. “So what is it? Just a bug?”

  “Well, it’s a little more than that,” he says with a soft smile. “You’re pregnant!”

  The whole world seems to go into slow motion when I hear his words. If this was a movie, some sort of low swirling bass sound would be rising up as the camera pushed in on my shocked face. My eyes go wide and I swear I feel my heart skip a beat. My chest feels like I’ve been stabbed with an icicle.

  “Wait—” I stammer, wondering if this is some sort of joke. “Wait what!?”

  “Congratulations—” He starts to say, but stops when he sees my face. “Or maybe not…”

  I’m pregnant? I’m going to be a mother? How did this happen?

  I’m pregnant, and there’s only one man it could belong to.

  It can’t be. This must be a mistake.

  “Are you… sure?” I ask sheepishly.

  “Uh, yep,” the doctor replies, obviously a little uncomfortable. Here he was thinking he was bringing me good news.

  My mind drifts back to that night. Did we use a condom? We must have!

  But I don’t remember him putting one on. I remember his face between my legs, his hands spreading my legs and the sweet ecstasy from his tongue caressing me with expertise.

  And then he was inside me.

  He came inside me, I remember. How could I have forgotten? The feeling of him filling me up was incomparable. Why am I pretending I didn’t know?

  The truth is, I was caught up in the moment. I needed it. I was powerless to say no, and Walker needed it too. It was completely reckless and irresponsible, but it was so good. I don’t know why I never thought about the risks, but after it happened, I had so many other things on my mind with Walker that our lack of protection never entered into it.

  “So…that’s why I’ve been feeling sick?” I say slowly.

  “That’s right,” the doctor replies quietly. “We can give you something for the nausea, but it should pass soon.”

  The rest of our conversation is a dull hum, and I find myself following him up the hall and back to reception where he hands he a prescription and tells me I can fill it at the campus pharmacy.

  I walk wide-eyed like a zombie across campus, pick up my meds and head back to my dorm. I’ve been lying in my bed for an hour, staring at the ceiling, before I manage to fully process my current situation.

  I’m pregnant with Walker Johnson’s baby!

  Of all the impossible circumstances a girl could find herself in. I’ve spent the last month trying to forget him. I’ve been fighting tooth and nail to put him out of my mind and move on. I even let myself wonder, in a moment of weakness, if I could give Ronald another chance.

  And now this.

  What will Abbey say? What will my parents say!? I haven’t spoken to them since I called to tell mom about Ronald. I’m pretty bad at calling to check in, and now I’m going to call with this news?

  “Yeah…hey, mom. I’m pregnant with Walker Johnson’s baby. Yes, the Walker Johnson.”

  To be honest, my mom will probably be thrilled. She’s been itching to be a grandma since I hit eighteen and was devastated when I told her about Ronald. She was really hoping I’d settle down with him and start pumping out the kids. My dad on the other hand…

  I don’t know if he’ll even believe me. He knows my taste, and if anything won’t make sense to him, it will be Walker and me.

  But that’s all for later. The real question for right now is: what do I tell Walker!?

  I mean…I have to tell him. Right?

  For a lot of girls this would be an instant meal ticket. Outrageous child support for the rest of their lives. But that’s not me. I’d never do that to a man, even someone like Walker, who’s probably going to be filthy rich for the rest of his life.

  A child is a child, not a bargaining chip. And if I’m going to be a mother, I’m going to take it seriously, and the father has a right to know.

  How is Walker going to raise a child? Will he even want to? How is a professional football player going to find time to be involved on any level? Walker is playing or partying. Responsibilities are as foreign to him as another language.

  But he has a right to know.

  The nausea meds are starting to work. I check the time. Almost seven. I’ve been sitting here thinking for longer than I thought.

  I’m going to have to see him tonight, I realize. Maybe he’s changed, I think hopefully.

  Now I’m entering fantasyland. Every girl thinks her man will change. They never do. People don’t change. But if there’s any hope for this working, I have to hold out hope. Walker has already surprised me once. Maybe he can do it again.

  I get myself together and get ready head out. There’s no point in dolling myself up tonight. He’s already seen me naked. I’m carrying his child. What’s the point in any more pretense?

  But I can’t move. I can’t leave. This is a monumental momen tin my life and I just can’t take that first step towards it.

  A half an hour later, still having not budged an inch, Abbey comes home.

  “Hey, Emmy,” she says, setting her bag down and hanging up her cardigan.

  “Hey…” I say robotically.

  “Uh, oh,” she says, a concerned look coming over her face. “What happened?”

  “I can’t even…”

  “Is it Ronald? Did he come by? Do I have to cut his nuts off—?”

  “No, no!” I say quickly. Abbey has grown even more protective of me after the whole Walker/Ronald debacle, and she’s about to get really fired up.

  I don’t know how to break
the news to her. I guess there’s really only one way to say it, and that’s to say it.

  “I’m…pregnant.”

  This time Abbey doesn’t respond. We sit in silence for what seems like ages before she finally speaks.

  “Please tell me it’s not Ronald’s.”

  “It’s not,” I reply. “It’s Walker’s.”

  “Well, thank God for that,” she says, taking a seat beside me. I can tell she isn’t sure what to say, and I don’t blame her. How are you supposed to react in a situation like this? I don’t even know how I’m feeling yet.

  “Are you gonna keep it?”

  “Yes!” I snap. The thought of not keeping it hadn’t even entered my mind.

  “Okay, okay!” She says defensively. “I’m just asking.”

  “I couldn’t do that,” I say. I understand why some girls do, it’s just not something I could bring myself to do – especially not with Walker’s child.

  Why does it matter that it’s Walker’s? I think. I’m not interested in a meal ticket, so what does it matter whose it is? I don’t expect Walker to be there as a father. His life is one big montage of football fields and naked chicks, there’s hardly room in there for a wife and family.

  I’m not his wife!

  My mind is all over the place. I must be losing my mind. I’ll chalk it up to the animal side of my mind kicking in and overriding my rational side. Every thought has to be kept in check with logic and reason. It’s just a shame I wasn’t listening to those things when Walker came onto me…and then in me.

  “Are you gonna tell him?” Abbey asks.

  “I don’t know,” I confess. “I mean, I guess I have to, right?”

  Abbey shrugs. “No. You don’t have to. You know how many guys there are out there with kids they don’t know about? My uncle didn’t know he had a daughter until she turned eighteen and went out to New Hampshire to meet him. Total mind fuck.”

  “Yeah, I don’t want to do that,” I say, sitting up. “He has a right to know, even if he doesn’t want to be involved. I mean – he doesn’t want to be involved, right?”

  I raise my eyebrows at Abbey, who just shrugs. “Who knows? I would doubt it though.”

  I know I shouldn’t, but I feel myself starting to get angry with her. It’s not her fault. None of this is anyone’s fault but my own. It’s my fault for sleeping with him. It’s my fault for not using a condom, and it’s my fault for hoping Abbey would say something different.

  But she’s right. Why would Walker suddenly change for me – baby or no baby? This is going to be the last thing he wants to hear, but he has to hear it. I’m not going to hide it from him and live a lie. He has a right to know.

  “Well, I’m gonna go tell him,” I say, getting up.

  “What, right now?” Abbey says, checking the time.

  “Yeah,” I say with a sigh, heading for the door.

  “He’s probably partying.”

  “I wouldn’t expect anything less,” I say, stepping into the hallway with a heavy heart. This is going to be the hardest conversation of my life, and I just want to get it over with and move on. Waiting, dragging things out are just going to make it so much worse.

  The evening breeze is starting to pick up as I step outside and make my way across campus. I keep running through scenarios in my mind.

  I show up and Walker’s drunk off his ass and not able to process what I’m saying. Would I go back again? Or would I just wash my hands of the whole thing?

  Or maybe I show up and he screams at me, calls me a gold-digger and tosses me out of his house. Or maybe he gets down on one knee and awkwardly proposes to me out of some sort of misguided chivalry.

  That would never happen, I think, shaking my head.

  As I walk, I realize that for some reason I’m not as nervous as I thought I’d be. Definitely not as nervous as my first trip to football house for my story. The air smells sweet, which is a blessing, and the temperature has dropped to something a little more bearable. I can hear football house before I see it. Abbey was right; there’s already a rager in full swing.

  The partiers have spilled out of the house and onto the front lawn and sidewalk. I pass a group of already buzzing sorority girls stepping gingerly across the quad in their three-inch heels. I hear them giggling, discussing which one of the guys on the team was the hottest, and which one probably has the biggest dick.

  The party is not unlike the last time I was here. Keg stands in the front lawn, beer pong on the porch, and heavy bass pumping from inside.

  At least the nausea’s gone, I think.

  I look at the front door, slightly ajar, and think about how my life has changed, and how Walker’s is about to. With a deep breath, I take the first step towards a new, uncertain future.

  10

  Walker

  I’m signed, baby!

  I knew this was coming, but that doesn’t make it any less exciting. You are now looking at a professional wide receiver for Seattle. I’m the Million Dollar Man! Actually, I’m the Multi-Million Dollar Man. My first check hasn’t come in yet, but I already feel five inches taller.

  I didn’t think it was even possible, but the big man on campus just got bigger. If I didn’t already have a huge dick, I’d sure feel like it now.

  Girls were literally throwing themselves at me. I’ve had to change my shirt twice already tonight when a cute red head “accidentally” bumped into me and spilled her drink, and when a smoking hot brunette “tripped” into my arms.

  Normally, I would have taken full advantage of both of these situations in the order they occurred, or even worked some magic to get the two into a threesome, but this time I just smiled, accepted their apology and went upstairs to change.

  It’s fucking painful to admit, but I haven’t been laid in a month. I haven’t been with anyone since Emmy, and I’m starting to question my own sanity.

  She was good, but she wasn’t give-up-on-other-girls good. Or was she?

  Or maybe that’s not even it. Emmy was a great lay, and man was that pussy dangerous, but there was something more going on when we had sex. The way she was looking at me with those eyes while I buried myself deep inside her – that was something that I had never had with any other girl.

  She didn’t fake moan or talk too much. She was legitimately into it. We had a legitimate connection.

  And then I’d gone and blown it.

  No, fuck that! SHE blew it!

  What was she thinking, ambushing me like that at the game? And after a win? So I had given it right back to her, and she couldn’t take it. The boys have a saying: if you can take a dick, you can take a joke. But I guess that doesn’t apply to Emmy.

  The place is going hard tonight. We don’t have many of these nights left. Benny managed to help me get my grades up, so Coach finally calmed his tits. It looks like I’ll be off to the race, and the truth is, I can’t wait to get out of here. The pros are what we boys all aspire to, and I’m one of a handful of guys on campus who actually pulled it off.

  From an outsider’s point of view, my life couldn’t get any better. But there was still one thing in the back of my mind, itching at me like a splinter.

  Emmy.

  We never had a resolution. I may have gone too far that day on the field, calling her out in front of everybody like that. But she put me on blast and she deserved it. I thought she would take it better, but that was the last time I saw her.

  While I was running down the field, she was running through my mind like a replay. That night with her was one big highlight reel and one of my best performances. No, THE best performance.

  I’d never experienced anything like that night with Emmy, and I know she hadn’t either. And we only had it once. What a shame. It’s like a crime against the universe that I haven’t worked her over again. My cock has been calling out for her since she left.

  But it hasn’t been just Walker Johnson Junior that’s been missing her either. The boys would kill me for admitting this, but I miss
her too. As much as she is a pain in the ass, I like having her around. She treats me differently than the other girls – the groupies. I’m a human being to her, not just a slab of prime rib to be devoured and bragged about to a friend.

  “Hey, big boy,” I hear a girl’s voice behind me. A perfectly manicured hand slips up over my shoulder and gently caresses the back of my neck. “I hear you’re going into the big leagues?”

  I glance to my right to see the owner of the hand, a total babe with the body of a gymnast. She’s got the whore’s uniform going on tonight, and makeup to match. She’s not doing much to hide her intentions.

  “You heard, huh?” I reply.

  “Everybody heard,” she giggles. “You know I’ve seen you play. Are you as big a man off the field as you are on?”

  Straight to the point. These girls aren’t messing around anymore. “What do you think?” I say, not sure how I feel about this.

  “Oh, I’d bet bigger!” She laughs, pressing her body against mine, and I can’t help but start to get excited by her warm, soft skin. I can feel her tits against my arm. It’s been a month since Emmy and I slept together, and a month without sex for me is like an eternity.

  Maybe it’s time to start letting go.

  If she liked me she would have called. Or she would have shown up in a huff again with some excuse about another story, and I would have taken her upstairs and gotten her drunk off my dick again. Seeing her lying on my bed, sweaty and completely out of it, was one of the hottest things I’ve ever seen.

  But I haven’t heard from her. Her followup article was good to me. Even Coach was pleased, which helped take away from the disaster I’d caused on the field with her interview. Boy, he’d chewed me out for that one.

  So why am I holding out hope for a girl that’s not even into me? I was just a story to her. A story and a mistake, and now she’s done with me. How many more girls am I going to turn away before I wake up?

  Emmy is a lost cause. Forget her. I make up my mind and turn to the girl.