Proposition: A Dark Billionaire Romance

by Angela Blake

  He gazed around one more before he broke off a tiny piece and slipped it into his mother’s mouth. Jenny chewed slowly, her heart swelling with love for this little boy who was the light of her life.

  “Why are you so quiet in there?” A female voice came from inside.

  Jenny and Noah froze as they both took in the sight of Jenny’s mother-Clarisse-standing above them with a mock frown on her lips. Her red hair was hanging in loose curls around her heart shaped face, and her hazel eyes sparkled with mirth.

  “Now, now, Noah, you know what I said about sneaking in a cookie before dinner,” Clarisse said disapprovingly.

  “I’m sorry, grandma,” Noah hung his head shamefully as he shuffled awkwardly from one foot to the next.

  “Go wash your hands and go to the kitchen, so you can help me bring in the food.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he tore out of the living room and made a beeline for the bathroom.

  Clarisse shook her head as she embraced her only daughter and gave her a quick kiss on the forehead.

  “Really, honey, must you spoil him?”

  Jenny tossed her head back and laughed. “Actually, he was spoiling me, I was the one who took a piece of that cookie.”

  “You don’t say.” Clarisse placed her hands on her hips as she pursed her lips thoughtfully. “So the boy isn’t afraid to cover for someone he loves, an admirable trait no doubt.”

  Jenny grinned. “He’s one of a kind, isn’t he?”

  They both shared a knowing smile as they made their way to the kitchen, and the three of them set up the table as they waited for Jenny’s father to walk in.

  He walked in a while later and dropped a quick kiss on Jenny’s head before he poked Noah in the side.

  They all sat down and a steady stream of conversation began as they all indulged in a nice family meal.

  ***

  Jenny juggled the keys and her son’s sleeping form as she tried to get the front door to open. She had finally succeeded in getting the key into the lock, but couldn’t quite make the door budge open.

  She huffed in irritation as she wondered if maybe she could lay Noah down on the grass for a second then pick him up again when the door was open.

  Her thoughts were interrupted when a familiar voice said. “Let me.”

  Jenny wheeled around in fright, her heart pounding in her chest before she noticed that it was just Mark, standing there looking sheepish.

  “Jesus, Mark, you scared me,” she whispered. “At least announce yourself next time.”

  “Well, I was just about to offer my help, but I was watching you fumble adorably for a few minutes.”

  Jenny scowled at him as he pushed the door open and gestured for her to go through. Jenny walked in, and Mark helped her switch on the lights.

  Once his eyes took in the sleeping form, his entire stance softened, and he stared at him in wonder as if he couldn’t quite believe that this little boy was his.

  “Can I be the one to carry him upstairs?” Mark asked quietly.

  Jenny stared at him quietly for a minute before she handed him Noah. She helped him adjust Noah before leading the way to the bedroom down the hall.

  They worked quietly together, making sure Noah was in his pajamas and tucked in safely. Mark brushed his hair out of his eyes and smiled a soft smile that had Jenny’s heart hoping that maybe, just maybe, he actually did want to be a part of this little boy’s life.

  She motioned for him to come outside, and he cast one last lingering look before he exited. She left the door open just enough to hear him if he needed her and beckoned Mark into the hallway.

  “Not that I don’t appreciate the help earlier, but what are you doing here, Mark?”

  “I’m sorry I ran out so quickly earlier. I was just in shock, but I had some time to think about it, and I want to be a part of Noah’s life.”

  Jenny watched him carefully. “Are you sure you’re not just saying that because you want to sleep with me?”

  Mark laughed. “Well, I won’t deny that I want you as well. I want to be in both your lives Jenny, if you’ll let me. I don’t know the first thing about being a father, and I know you deserve so much better than me, but I want to try. Please let me try.”

  Jenny looked at him for a long moment without speaking. Long enough that Mark began to fidget. His green eyes met hers in a direct stare, and Jenny could see the sincerity reflected in them.

  “I’m going to go take a shower, then how about we have some dinner?” she said finally.

  Mark nodded cautiously. “I’d like that.”

  Jenny gestured towards the living room. “Make yourself at home.”

  Mark plopped down onto the couch and grabbed the remote and began channel surfing. Jenny hurried up the stairs wondering what on earth they’d talk about, but she knew that she wanted to try, and even if it didn’t work out between them, she’d make sure he stayed in Noah’s life. He needed his father after all.

  Jenny stripped and as she waited for the water to heat up, she began to wash her face carefully. She stepped into the shower a while later, and a sigh of relief escaped her lips as the hot water cascaded down her back.

  She began to lather her hair with shampoo and running her hands down her body to wash herself. She gave a startled gasp when a pair of hands began to massage her shoulders.

  She wheeled around and came face to face with Mark who was standing there, dripping wet and fully naked.

  “What are you - ” she trailed off as he grabbed a loofa and began to gently scrub her body.

  “Let me take care of you,” he said simply.

  Jenny let her head roll back as he carefully washed every nook and cranny over her body making her grow more and more aroused by the second.

  Jenny noticed, much to her chagrin, that he was careful not to touch her breasts nor her center, and she was feeling rather frustrated at that.

  He bent down and began to kiss her center, and a moan escaped Jenny’s lips as he began to lick. She grabbed a fistful of his hair and yanked him up, so he was kissing her lips instead.

  Mark groaned as he pushed her back against the wall. As the hot water slid off their bodies, their kissing began to grow more and more fervent, and their hands began to grow bolder.

  Jenny placed her hands on his hips and shoved him closer hoping he’d get the hint. He growled in the back of his throat before he wrenched his lips away and began to kiss his way down her neck. He took one nipple between his mouth and began to suck on it so hard that Jenny’s eyes were rolling in the back of her head.

  Meanwhile his other hand was making its trail down south. Jenny left one hand playing with the hair on the nape of his neck, while the other hand made its way down and began to stroke him until he stopped what he was doing and bucked against her hands.

  He grabbed both her hands and raised them over her head, so she was helpless to his touch. He began to kiss her neck slowly, sucking and biting until he left his mark. He moved down and began to kiss and suck on her breasts till Jenny’s body began to writhe in pleasure. He moved down and kissed her stomach until he finally stopped above her center.

  He released her wrists and brought one leg up, so it was hooked around his. He gently nudged her legs apart and looked her directly in the eye before he thrust into her with one quick movement.

  They both moaned at the contact, and at first they set up a steady pace where Mark would slowly pull out then slam back into her causing both of them the maximum amount of pleasure.

  Eventually, Jenny began to claw on his back letting him know that she wanted more, and Mark wanted more too. He began to grind into her, harder and harder until they both began to scream in ecstasy.

  Mark carried her out of the shower a while later, both of them getting dressed and crawling into bed next to each other as they lay there feeling completely and blissfully spent.

  They drifted off knowing that tomorrow was a new start for all of them.

  THE END

  Rebound:
A Secret Baby Sports Romance

  Chapter 1

  Lucas Ramirez groaned as he realized that the coach was going to make them run another mile, probably just for kicks. At twenty-three, Lucas knew that the odds were stacked against him as the youngest player on the team. Most people don’t get picked up fresh out of college, but he lucked out. But that wasn’t the only reason the odds were stacked against him. Lucas was also half Spanish, and he knew that it set him at a bit of a disadvantage because although most people would be horrified if you mentioned race within the NBA, he knew it was very much a thing. It wasn’t obvious, but he noticed the way some of his teammates snickered at the way he pronounced certain letters, and how they elbowed each other when they caught a glimpse of his Spanish flag tattoo. Maybe it was a bit cheesy, but he liked that tattoo. He hadn’t been to his country in five years, and he missed it terribly, but he knew that he was where he needed to be to make his dreams come true.

  At 5’7’’ he was taller than most of the guys on the team which earned him respect, and with his jet black hair, chocolate brown eyes and fit physique most women would glance his way when he walked past.

  He had a reputation for being the ladies’ man, and he enjoyed it.

  It didn’t hurt too that once he threw in a word or two in Spanish, women would practically drool over him. It definitely didn’t hurt to be a Spaniard in America.

  Lucas panted as his breathing began to turn a little ragged due to the fact that the coach had been over working them lately in preparation for the big game on Friday. He knew that the coach was doing what he thought needed to be done, but running the team ragged before the big game was only going to make them exhausted by the time the actual game would roll around.

  He took in a huge gulp of air as he finally made it past the first mile, and he threw himself onto the wet grass and breathed deeply.

  “Good job, Ramirez,” The Coach practically tossed at him as he jotted something down on his clipboard. With side burns, a patch of receding blonde hair and a physique of someone who used to be in shape, Coach Carter looked like he was tough as nails on the outside, and for the most part he was, but only those on his team knew that he was a big softie on the inside. He was like a surrogate father to most of them, and they loved him even more for it.

  Unable to do much, Ramirez simply grunted and gave his Coach a thumbs up as he waited for his lungs to stop feeling like they were on fire. The blood stopped pounding in his ears, and his lungs finally felt functional a few minutes later, and he raised his head a millimeter as he watched the rest of his teammates slowly cross the first mile and collapse much like he did.

  “That was some fast running, Spanish,” one of his teammates, Keith threw at him as he grabbed a bottle of water. He screwed the cap open before he dumped the water all over his hair and shook it off.

  Some of the other teammates yelled out insults at him as some of the droplets of water landed on their bodies, but most of them were too tired to actually do anything about it.

  Lucas watched him carefully wondering if this was another one of their pranks, or if he generally meant it.

  “Thanks, dude,” he offered cautiously as he threw himself back on the ground to gaze at the sun. He and Keith had been teammates for months now, but this was the first time he had spoken to Keith directly. He knew all about him of course, half English, half American with a legendary reputation with the ladies much like himself until he found out he had a kid.

  That seemed to be the case with two other members as well, Blake and Mark.

  He wondered how the hell they had managed to get themselves into this situation, and he thanked his lucky stars that he was fortunate enough to have avoided that scenario.

  Although he never forgot the fact that he almost ended up in that very same position.

  Her name was Lorena De la Vega.

  She was a fiery brunette who had lived just across the street from him in Madrid, and her liquid grey eyes somehow managed to entice him. At the tender age of seventeen, he was convinced that he was in love. But, what he confused for love was probably nothing but lust and teenage hormones.

  Lucas pulled the brakes on that train of thought as he slowly began to backtrack to whatever he was thinking about before that.

  He tuned in just in time to hear his teammates talk about getting together later for a game of pool at this pub off Lincoln Boulevard.

  “Can you play, Spanish?” Keith asked casually as he watched him.

  Lucas froze as he realized for the first time that Keith was actually having a conversation with him that didn’t involve barking out tactics during a group huddle. The rest of the teammates seemed unaffected by the conversation, but he could tell by the way they tried to seem too nonchalant that they were actually listening.

  Keith was offering him an olive branch, and for the life of him, Lucas couldn’t figure out why. He didn’t want to look a gift horse in the mouth, but he wondered at this sudden change of heart.

  “I’m alright,” he said finally. In reality, he had probably only played pool once or twice in his entire life, but he supposed he could remember enough to get him through a game with the guys. Especially if it meant finally bonding with them.

  “Join us tonight then, seven o’clock?”

  “I’ll be there,” Lucas confirmed as he hoisted himself off the grass and headed towards the ice box with the water bottles.

  Keith smiled at him and titled his water bottle in salute, and Lucas did the same as he wondered if Keith was up to something.

  ***

  Lucas pulled up to the address that Keith had texted him three hours ago after having gone home, showered and had a bite to eat.

  He frowned at the exterior with its bright neon light and the motorcycles parked out front. He usually avoided places like this because he knew that a lot of the people who hung out here were pure blooded Americans, and if they caught even a whiff of foreigner between them, they’d pounce like hellhounds.

  He scratched the back of his head and wondered if it was really worth bonding with the guys. He supposed he could try to make a conscious effort to fit in, and that way he wouldn’t have to turn around and leave especially because he wouldn’t have a good excuse as to why he didn’t show up.

  He already said he’d be here, and it was bad form to ditch them on the first time they had asked him to hang. He was sure if he did that, there wouldn’t be a second one.

  Lucas squared his shoulders and figured if worst came to worst, he’d just walk away. It’s not like he couldn’t control his temper, he knew exactly when to back off and when to fight back, and he hoped it would be enough.

  He reached out to open the set of double doors when a group of men came barreling through laughing and yelling at each other.

  He stepped back as he waited for them to pass shaking his head at the silly things they were saying.

  “Hey, you!” a voice slurred behind him. Lucas didn’t know who he was talking to until the man seemed to make a conscious effort of talking, Spanish.

  Lucas took a deep breath, a practiced smile in place. “Yes?”

  “Yes?” he mimicked in that deep baritone most Spanish men seemed to have.

  Lucas kept the smile in place. “Can I help you?”

  “Help me? By what? Stealing my job?”

  Lucas raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  The man narrowed his eyes into slits as he stumbled forward and pointed a finger accusingly at Lucas. Lucas gazed down at the man, who was very small compared to him. He had on a shirt that supported some baseball team Lucas knew nothing about, a pair of oversized jeans, and his hair carelessly stuck out at all ends. When he leaned in close to Lucas, he could smell the alcohol on his breath, and it wasn’t a pleasant smell, so he involuntarily took a step backwards.

  “That’s right, cower in fear, Spaniard,” the man puffed out his chest and sneaked a glance at his friends at the back who hung behind awkwardly, unwilling to h
elp him out, but riveted by the train wreck in front of them.

  “I’m not afraid.”

  The man glared at him. “Yes, you are. Who do you think you are anyway? Cristiano Ronaldo?”

  The man’s friends snickered as Lucas rolled his eyes and laughed. “Cristiano Ronaldo is from Portugal not Spain.”

  His friends laughed even harder at that, and the man began to grow red with anger and shame. “I knew that. I just wanted to be sure you knew.”

  Lucas rolled his eyes. “Right, okay, Listen, why don’t you just go home, I’m sure you have a nice girlfriend or something waiting for you.”

  The man began to jab Lucas. “Are you implying that I can’t take you on, or are you trying to hit on my girl? Because I can take you either way.”

  Lucas held his hands up in surrender even though he was beginning to feel mildly irritated. “Look, man. I’m not doing either, okay? I just think you’ve had a bit too much to drink, and you’re looking for a punching bag, and while I do try to be a good Samaritan, that’s not what I feel like doing today.”

  The man’s eyes blazed with a fury that was entirely directed at Lucas even though Lucas had done nothing but try to defuse the situation. “And now you’re saying I can’t hold my liquor,” he spat out with as much venom as he could muster which wasn’t much considering he was inebriated and kept stumbling around.

  “That’s it. You’re going down,” he swung his left hand in what Lucas can only assume was meant to be a punch, but instead it ended falling short.

  Lucas eyed him with mild annoyance. “I’m not going to fight you, man, so just let it go.”

  The man began to advance forward again. “Aww, the Spaniard is a pussy. I’m a lover not a fighter,” he mocked as he swung another punch.

  Lucas deflected, and he ended up punching the air again which only made him more agitated.

  “Stop moving,” he yelled furiously as he kept trying to lunge at him. Lucas kept deflecting until he felt his patience wearing thin. He pressed his mouth into a thin line as he tried to keep his temper in check until the man distracted him and managed to clock him on the jaw.