Baller: A Bad Boy Romance

by Love,Amy

  Did she know that if enough people believed her, Dante would be ruined? She probably did. My mind raced. What if this was some sort of inside job and someone or a group of people was on a campaign to take down Dante Rock? I swallowed, thinking that I had threatened to be one of those people if he lied to me.

  He hadn’t lied to me. He had told me something that—whether or not he admitted it—had been hard for him to tell. I felt honored to be the one to whom he felt safe opening up. I marveled at the man in front of me, who had just poured his soul out to me. My thumb ghosted over his lips. He parted them as it did. I felt his hand leave my grasp and close around my thigh…near the knee. He pushed my skirt up a little, so he was touching my bare skin.

  “I understand. You shouldn't take the fall for something you didn’t do.”

  His hand was kneading my thigh, making it a little hard to think.

  “Thank you,” he said.

  He leaned slowly into me.

  “You’re welcome,” I whispered, realizing what was happening.

  I sat rooted to the spot as he leaned into me. He held my face in his hands and our lips touched. It was gentle at first, and I thought that was it, but then he continued. I felt his lips part and his tongue run along my lower lip.

  This was wrong.

  This was so wrong, but I didn’t want it to stop. I parted my lips and allowed his tongue entrance into my mouth. How many rules did this break? How many ethical codes was I violating? I was a journalist. I was a reporter—and I was letting my subject stick his tongue down my throat. I was sticking my own tongue down his throat.

  His large, callused hand gripped the back of my neck. The way his lips moved over mine…and the way his tongue felt… who had ever brought me to my knees like this with just a kiss? I put a hand on his chest and gently pushed him away from me.

  We couldn’t do this. It was not professional. It was a conflict of interest. My career was potentially on the line. How could I expect anyone to believe anything I said when I was out here fucking the guy that I am reporting on? No. Lord no. We couldn’t have sex.

  Dante wasn’t the kind of man whom I needed to be having sex with. He was an athlete and he lived like a rock star. He didn’t seem like the sort of guy who had sex with women twice. This was a terrible idea. I didn’t want anything out of it, but I didn’t need to get involved in the first place.

  My hand was on his chest, but he hadn’t stopped kissing me. He had just turned his attention to my neck, sucking and biting. He had fine, soft hairs—not that much and not that dense—covering his chest.

  “Dante… Dante?” I said.

  “What is it?” he said between kisses on my neck.

  “Dante, we can’t do this.”

  “Mm-hmm,” he said. “You're a reporter. That would be like, using your position over me for power or something,” he mumbled. He didn’t stop. I felt his teeth nibble my ear and my eyes fluttered shut.

  “Dante, I want you to stop,” I said definitively. My voice was shaking and my hand had been absently feeling the grooves of his abs. Under my skirt, my lips felt slick with moisture, already. I knew that if I looked down, my nipples would be hard, pressing against the fabric of my blouse. He raised his head to look at me.

  “If that’s really what you want,” he said gently. I looked at his face. He was so handsome. Everyone knew that. Everyone could see that. It was obvious, but this was new. Dante being vulnerable and honest, talking about something that happened to him, was more attractive than all the flirting he had done in my direction since we had met, but it also just made him a real person.

  Who was this guy? I liked this guy who was honest and who could talk about things even when they hurt. More than anything I wanted to kiss him. It was a bad idea, but I couldn’t just leave. Not then. I leaned forward and kissed him gently. He immediately took the lead, invading my mouth.

  It was a bad idea and it was a mistake, but I was one I was ready and willing to make. I let my hand sink into his crotch and feel him growing through his shorts. We were in the locker room. There was no way we could have gotten completely naked. I heard his groan as my hand felt him through the fabric.

  “Take it out,” he said to me.

  I looked up and saw him looking down at me. I bit my lip and looked down again, easing my hand down into his shorts and feeling his dick. The skin was pulled tight over the shaft because he was hard. It was hot and hard under my fingers. His penis was… it matched the rest of him. He was long and felt thick in my hand. I felt my pussy ache thinking about how thick he would feel when he thrust it into me. He groaned some more as my hand stroked the head in slow circular motions with my fingertips.

  “Do you have protection?” I asked him. I saw his brow furrow a little, he didn’t.

  “I won’t come inside,” he said.

  As if I didn’t already have enough reason to get out of there as fast as I could. We had started with an already bad idea, and it had just gotten a lot worse. He didn’t have any protection. I knew what my status was, but there was no way of knowing with him. His dick was in my hand, and I had never in my life wanted to please a man more. I wanted to suck his cock into my mouth and make him forget his name.

  It was a bad idea, but it was also an opportunity I couldn’t be sure that I would ever have again. I wanted this man, my body was aching for him, and he wanted me, too. There was time for regret later.

  “Where do you want me?” I asked him. I suddenly remembered the voice recorder and quickly turned it off.

  He stood up suddenly. He towered over me. I was over six feet tall when I was in my heels, but he could still see the top of my head.

  “Lift that skirt up. It’s in the way. If I rip it, you won't be able to get out of here.”

  I followed his instructions, bending down and slowly lifting my skirt up over my thighs and hips. He watched me silently. I felt my pulse speed up, seeing him roughly run his hands over his cock, impatiently rubbing himself off as I exposed my thighs and panties to him. He smirked while looking down at me. He could probably see how wet he had made me.

  “Take those off,” he said. I didn’t object. I pulled them off and slipped them over my feet. Bent down his dick was nearly was at nearly eye level. The sex appeal this guy had was suffocating. I couldn’t resist leaning forward and planting a kiss on the tip of his dick. I could taste his salty precum. I used my tongue to tease his head without giving him the satisfaction of sticking it all the way in my mouth.

  He made sounds like he was almost in pain. He pulled me up roughly and grabbed my panties out of my hand. He took them from me, tossing them in his open locker. Grabbing my leg and hitching it up around his hip, he roughly kissed me again. The first contact his dick made with my soaking wet folds was almost electric. My own juices covered the thick head of his cock, Dante rubbing his member up and down my slit.

  I moaned in anticipation. My hands were shameless, running over every muscled inch of him that I could reach. I gasped when his thick head pushed past my lips. I cried out a little, feeling him push himself into me, inch by inch.

  He shushed me gently in my ear as he continued feeding his thick, long piece into me. I panted, feeling myself stretch to accommodate him. He was so big. It felt so good. He felt amazing. I closed my eyes feeling him bottom out. He was completely sunk inside me, every hot, hard inch. His strong arms hoisted me into the air, and he positioned us against the lockers so he could use them as support to thrust into me.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, gently. I nodded and kissed him. I appreciated his concern but now was not the time for talking. His tongue ravaged the inside of my mouth while his dick began to thrust inside of me. The friction was heavenly. He fit so tight, I didn’t want him to stop.

  I matched his strokes, meeting him thrust for thrust. His hands squeezed my thighs and pulled them apart further so he could thrust deeper. His body pinned me to the lockers, forcing me to stay still and take his punishment. I was nearly delirious from the se
nsation. I knew we had to be quiet so we didn’t arouse suspicion, but it was getting harder and harder to.

  I felt greedy, wanting more than just his naked chest pressing into me. I wanted to be naked, feeling his hard body against my soft skin. I wanted to feel his hands on my breasts, tweaking my nipples. I wanted him to own me.

  Letting my hand reach between our bodies, I rubbed my clitoris, sending myself right over the edge. I cried out as I came. I couldn’t hold it anymore. Dante sped up, thrusting harder, slamming into me with every push.

  “I’m going to come. Where do you want it?” he asked me. I didn’t have to think twice. I knew exactly where I wanted it.

  “Come inside. I’m on the pill,” I said breathlessly. He gave a few more powerful thrusts before I felt him shoot his cum inside of me. It was done. There was no going back from this now. We had irrevocably altered the nature of our relationship. The deep satisfaction I felt was mixed with rising trepidation. This… mistake? It wasn’t a mistake; it was completely intentional. There had been many times when I could have said no and pushed against him instead of towards him, but I hadn’t. I could have denied him at the last minute before he entered me, but I didn’t.

  I didn’t want to. I knew what I was getting myself into, or at least I knew it was something that I had the power to handle. We were both adults who had made the decision to act on our urges, that didn’t mean we couldn’t still work together. I was still a reporter, and he was still Dante Rock. The interview we had had, before we got sidetracked, was not an article yet. I still had him.

  I still had the upper hand.

  He kissed me deeply before letting me sink to the ground. He chuckled as he looked at me, running his thumb over my cheek.

  “What’s so funny?” I asked. I didn’t tend to really wear a lot of makeup for work, but I was sure my face was at the very least flushed. He hadn’t touched my hair thankfully, so I couldn’t imagine what had him that tickled.

  “You’ve been waiting to do that since you met me,” he said, smugly.

  Was it true? A little bit, but I was not about to let him know just how true. His looks and his charm were his weapons, and I couldn’t let him feel like he could work me with them. No wonder he talked such a big game. The man could back it up. It wasn’t even his flirting that had gotten me. It was when he dropped all the pretense, sat there as Dante, the guy from the small town in Ohio and told me something real about him. Told me something that was painful from his past.

  It was his willingness to open up to me. I don’t know whether he had intended to…that much. He did sound like he might have gotten carried away with himself a bit at some point, but that didn’t matter. It was him talking, the part of him that I felt he didn’t tend to share with that many people.

  Having sex with him was an obvious admission that I was attracted to him. It was an undeniable admission. It had happened once, but it didn’t have to happen again. I wasn't a bitch in heat; I could control myself. He consequently would have to control himself, too. There was no way he was running this show. I had to stay on top of him.

  “Think again, hotshot,” I said to him. I could feel the evidence that he had been inside me slowly push its way out and slide between my thighs. I had to go clean up. There was no way I could just walk around with his cum leaking out of me. “Your ass belongs to me.”

  “I think you got it the other way around,” he said. His hand ran down my back and cupped my ass. I pulled my skirt down over my thighs and smoothed it down.

  “This does not change anything,” I told him.

  “I was just balls deep inside of you; I think it changes a few things.”

  “Not a chance, hotshot,” I said. “Who’s the one with the power to make or break your career based on what is on this recorder?” I asked him. I grabbed the recorder and checked again to make sure that I had actually turned it off.

  “Was that there the whole time? Was it on?”

  “No, it wasn’t on,” I said, annoyed.

  “Are you sure? You must have gotten some of it on there. At least the part when I told you to touch my cock, and you did,” he said. He took a step closer to me, raising a hand to touch my face. “My favorite part was when you asked me how I wanted you,” he said. His voice had dropped, and he looked me dead in the eye, recounting the sex we had just had. He wasn’t wrong. There was likely a few minutes of the two of us having sex recorded on the device.

  “You’re gonna get home and listen back to it. You’re gonna want to start writing, but then you’ll get to the end and you’ll remember this. You’ll remember me deep inside you. You’ll remember the way my cock felt on your tongue and you won't be able to do anything but touch yourself and wish it was me. Again.”

  He kissed me, and it took all the strength his little speech hadn’t taken out of me to push him away. I turned my head and pushed back on his chest so he wouldn’t get too close and make me lose my nerve.

  “I don’t usually double dip, but I might make an exception with you,” he said.

  Double dip. Gross.

  “That wasn’t for me, it was for you.”

  “I owe you a thank you. Or you owe me. Either way, you can drop down, put my cock in your mouth, and finish what you started.”

  Why was he so crass? Did he talk to every woman he met like this? I sighed, thinking that he probably did. Even worse, it must work because he was doing it to me. Worse than even that, it was working now. I felt myself getting wet. Pretty soon his cum wouldn’t be the only thing making the insides of my thighs wet.

  “I was just thinking about all the ass you won't be getting for the rest of the season. I felt sorry for you. You must get around a lot. I know it’ll be hard to keep it in your pants,” I said.

  He laughed. That was the wrong reaction. I didn’t expect him to laugh when I basically called him a whore.

  “I wasn’t fucking myself. I heard every little sound you made. I felt your hands all over me like you couldn’t get enough. Who’s really going to suffer? You. Because the only thing you can think about is fucking me again, or me, who has you to keep me occupied all season long?”

  “This isn’t happening again.”

  “It isn’t happening again until it happens again,” he said smugly.

  “You keep waiting for that day to come, hotshot,” I told him.

  I grabbed my bag and left the room.

  Chapter Eight

  Dante

  Dante: one. Quinn: zero.

  The girl thought she was hot shit, but who was laughing now? Me. That was who.

  She was mine now. I had her.

  What could she do? What could she say now? Nothing.

  Too bad the locker room didn’t have cameras. We picked the one place in the whole facility that doesn’t have cameras to finally have sex, but that didn’t matter. That was okay. All that matters is that it happened.

  It happened and it felt fucking fantastic.

  That smart mouth tasted amazing. She wasn’t so sassy when she had my cock inside her. Nope. She just turned to mush. She just writhed and moaned and called out my name. I liked her better like that. Maybe she just needed to get dicked down one time to stop being so uptight and bitchy. Her mouth wasn’t just good for talking. It was good for sucking, too. I had wanted her to get back down on those knees and give me the full experience, what she was really working with. I wanted to feel it hit the back of her throat and fuck her face. She didn’t, but that didn’t matter. She would. The little preview had been just enough to let me fill in the blanks myself. I would save that mental image away for later when I wanted to fuck but couldn’t because she wouldn’t let me.

  I wanted to taste that pussy. It had felt… it was something else. I was in so deep, raw. On one hand, I maybe shouldn’t have fucked her bareback, but on the other, I had a feeling that she wasn’t the crazy kind. The way she talked to me, I knew she wanted me, but there was no way of knowing how much. She was mean, but not bitchy mean, bossy mean. Sexy mean. H
er sugar walls squeezed down on me so tight it was like a fucking fist, strangling the shit out of me.

  I still had her panties in my locker, too. They were white, a thong which was one of those lacy see-through numbers that girls liked to wear. That meant that she wasn’t wearing any right now. I had to thank her formally. I felt great. I felt amazing. I had been sharp and quick on the court. Her pussy was like magic. We would have to fuck every time I needed to play.

  She tried to talk tough afterward, but there wasn’t a lot she could say when I had just bust my nut inside her. It had been exactly like I thought it would be. No, it had been better than I thought it would be. She was so wet and hot. The only thing that would have made it better would be if I could have peeled that whole outfit off of her. I didn’t get my hands on her tits the way I wanted. The way her pussy squeezed the hell out of me, I wanted to eat her out. That would shut her up.