Ballbuster (A Playing Dirty Sports Romance Book 1)

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Ballbuster (A Playing Dirty Sports Romance Book 1) Page 15

by Lane Hart


  “Where are you going?” Pouty asks.

  Grabbing a towel, I say, “inside,” without further explanation or invitation as I dry off.

  Once I’m no longer dripping wet, I wrap the towel around my hips and walk through the open sliding glass door. And there Roxy is, standing next to Lathan, laughing. Fuck, now I’m jealous of my own best friend. Again, it’s one woman’s fault. She’s done nothing but give me hell since the second she ran me over! If she’s not causing me physical pain, she’s making me a headcase!

  “Where have you been?” I storm over and ask her.

  Roxy blinks at me before she clenches her jaw and narrows her eyes in anger. I also notice she’s making a concentrated effort to not lower her eyes and ogle me below the neck.

  “That’s none of your business,” she replies and then takes a sip from her water bottle. I give Lathan a look that says get lost, and my friend quickly obeys, heading to the living room. “Where are your crutches?” she asks without lowering her eyes. Yep, she wants to look at my bare chest and stomach but refuses to give in.

  “Don’t need them anymore,” I say.

  “Good for you,” she says flatly.

  “Yeah, good for me.”

  “Is this a special occasion?” she asks, her green eyes skating around the room full of people before returning to mine.

  “Yeah,” I say and wait to finish my statement, watching as her eyebrows arch in surprise and curiosity. Anything’s better than anger. “I don’t need crutches anymore.”

  “That’s not exactly a cause for this type of celebration,” she mutters. “Looks like a plastic surgery convention.”

  My lips quirk up without my permission.

  “Then I guess you’ve never been on crutches,” I say, ignoring her insult of the women.

  “Nope,” she replies, sipping from her bottle again and drawing my eyes to her lips. I still remember how soft they are and how they taste. I’m not sure I’ll ever forget either of those things.

  “Makes it easier to go up steps,” I say just because she’s talking to me and I don’t want her to stop.

  “I bet,” she agrees.

  “No more sore armpits.”

  “Hmm.”

  “I’m not nearly as clumsy, either. You know, falling down or whatever,” I say and wait for her response. Dammit, I want her to talk to me about what the fuck happened the other night!

  “That’s…good,” she eventually says with her eyes lowered to the ground. “I mean, no one wants to fuck a klutz.”

  Her cheeks turn pink, and I know she’s thinking about the other night when we were fucking on the floor in the hotel room.

  “Nope, definitely not. Unless it’s a pity fuck?” I ask, wanting her to give me something to explain what happened between us.

  “Uh-uh,” she says. “Maybe a pity blowjob, but a pity fuck is out of the question, you know, because it might make the injury worse.”

  “Well, damn. I think I want the crutches back now since I apparently missed out on any pity blowjobs.”

  “Ah. Too late now,” Roxy says as she moves away from the kitchen counter and starts down the hall. “Everyone’s already seen you without them.”

  “Wait, Roxy,” I call out to her. “Where were you tonight?” I ask again, hoping she’ll tell me.

  “Apartment hunting,” she says. And before I can formulate a response to that kick in the balls, she’s disappeared into her room.

  Goddamn it. I don’t want her to move out. It’s nice actually having someone else around, even if all we do is sleep in different rooms. And even if I would prefer that we were sleeping together, which is an unbreakable rule from my current playbook. Although, the last rule doesn’t apply to Roxy since she is a teammate, and does calling her honey count as a pet name? Whatever, I don’t want to lose her as my roommate.

  Roxy’s been keeping my house spotless, except for dishes. After the day she flooded the kitchen with bubbles, she’s refused to touch them. She cooks too, although she burns everything. At first, I thought she just hadn’t figured out the timing for the oven, you know, because it’s new and super quick. But she stills burns shit, so maybe it’s just her. Whenever it happens, she’ll light this green Yankee Candle in a jar that smells just like freshly mowed grass. It’s comforting and warm, maybe because it reminds me of being on the field. Or her.

  So while Roxy hasn’t lived here long, I’m already attached to having her around. I know her sudden desire to move probably has to do with us fucking. I’ll just have to convince her that it won’t happen again, even if that’s the opposite of what I want.

  Roxy

  Once I’m able to make my escape to my room, I get comfortable, changing into my Wildcats blue tank and yellow pajama shorts. Nothing better to do, I pull out one of the footballs from the cardboard box on the bedroom floor. I’m not sure how many balls I’ve accumulated now, but it’s quite the collection. All of them are abused and filled up with words written in black permanent marker, except for this one.

  Grabbing the silver sharpie from the dresser, I sit cross-legged in the middle of the bed, the ball in my lap to add a few things to it. This particular one is sparsely written on and has more air inflating it since I haven’t kicked the shit out of it over and over again like all the others. This one is special.

  A knock sounds quietly on my door over the music of the party, but I ignore it, figuring it’s one of the guests looking for a room to screw in. Which reminds me of how odd it is that Kohen turned the master bedroom into his weight room and took one of the smaller rooms to sleep in. Maybe it’s because it just had more space for all the exercise equipment.

  When my bedroom door suddenly flies wide open, I startle in surprise before shouting, “Get out of my room!” and throwing the football at whoever the hell broke in. Only after the leather leaves my hand do I realize it’s Kohen. And based on the fact that he’s now hunched over with his hands on his crotch, my short pass apparently hit him square in the nuts.

  Fuck.

  He reaches out a hand, grabbing hold of the door before he goes to his knees, likely remembering that one of them is already fucked up at the last minute. I scramble off the bed to help him straighten all the way up as he continues to grimace in pain.

  “Shit. I’m sorry, Kohen. I didn’t know it was you,” I tell him, leading him over to the edge of the bed for him to sit down.

  “You’re trying…to kill me,” he groans, still practically doubled over.

  “No, I’m not. You just keep catching me off guard!” I exclaim taking a seat next to him. “Can I do anything or get you anything?” I ask.

  “Ice,” he says, so I hop up and scurry to the kitchen, searching several drawers before I find a plastic baggie to fill with ice from the front dispenser on the refrigerator. Back in my room, I shut the door to drown out the noise of the music and chatter before taking the bag to Kohen.

  He’s laid out on his back now, legs still hanging over the side.

  “Here,” I tell him, sitting on the bed beside him and offering him the ice pack. Kohen takes it and raises a knee in the air before tucking the bag against his crotch.

  “Fuck, that’s cold,” he says, shivering since he’s still wearing his soaking wet board shorts.

  “Do you, um, do you want to take the wet shorts off and I can give you a towel or something?” I ask him.

  “Yeah,” he answers with a nod. Lifting the ice in one hand, he starts tugging his bottoms down his hips until they hit they floor. I try to look away, I swear I do, but after his cock is set free, it’s impossible. My mouth goes dry at the sight of not only his impressive length but massive girth even though his shaft is only semi-hard, resting against his thigh that’s now also bare. I’ve been unable to forget the way he felt moving inside me, not only filling every inch, but stretching me so I could take all of him.

  The sound of crunching finally draws my eyes upward, and I realize that while I had been staring at his junk, Kohen had opened the b
ag of ice and started popping pieces into his mouth, chomping down on them.

  “Want some?” he asks, holding up the bag.

  “No, thanks,” I say in confusion at his calm tone. I thought he was in excruciating pain…

  And then I see it, the red, circular welt on his lower abdomen.

  “I didn’t hit you in the balls, did I?” I ask him.

  Chomp. Chomp. “Nope,” Kohen answer with a smirk.

  “You jerk!” I shout, slapping him on the chest. “Then why the hell are you naked on my bed?”

  “We need to talk,” he says. “I just took advantage of your wrong assumption.”

  Scoffing, I stand up to leave, but Kohen grabs my arm and tugs me back down to the bed, millimeters away from his nakedness.

  “We haven’t talked yet,” he says.

  “Then put some clothes on!” I tell him, trying to pull my arm out of his grip.

  “Hey, you’re the one who suggested I take my shorts off.”

  “Oh my God, you’re a juvenile boy trapped in the body of a man.”

  “Why do you want to move out?” he asks, and the change of topic has me deflating, my shoulders slumping.

  “I don’t know. Maybe because my roommate doesn’t respect my privacy and is currently naked in my bed. That’s just one of many reasons,” I tell him.

  “Why did you run?”

  “What?” I ask in confusion.

  “After the game the other night.”

  “Oh,” I mutter, my eyes lowered to his chest and abs that I can’t seem to stop looking at. “Because I don’t sleep with teammates.”

  “Then shouldn’t you have left before you fucked me?”

  I try to get up again, but not only does Kohen win the tug of war, but after my ass hits the mattress, he throws his left leg over me to hold me down. It’s his injured left leg, so I can’t move it away without hurting him, and he knows I won’t.

  “You don’t fight fair,” I tell him with a sigh of defeat, relaxing against the comforter.

  “What’s going on, Roxy?” he asks, his face inches away from mine, but I look at the ceiling instead of his warm, melted dark chocolate and caramel colored eyes. “You obviously wanted me at the time, so what changed afterward?”

  “I don’t know,” I mutter.

  “I’m not buying that,” Kohen says, grabbing my chin to turn my face to his. “So tell me the truth. Why did you bolt after I told you I hadn’t signed the paperwork?”

  I blow a breath out and focus again on Kohen’s chest while I try to think of a response. Should I tell him the truth? Would he understand? Guess there’s no harm in him knowing now.

  “If you didn’t sign it, then there was nothing to keep you from running your mouth,” I finally admit to him.

  “So you were all bent out of shape worried that I would tell someone we slept together?” he asks.

  “Without the threat of losing your contract hanging over your head, there was nothing keeping you from telling everyone what we did.”

  “Do you want to know how many people I’ve told?” Kohen asks, causing my eyes to snap back to his and my heart to stutter in my chest. Fuck. Does everyone on the team think I’m a slut now?

  “How many?” I ask, needing to know.

  “Zero,” he says, causing all the air to whoosh out of my lungs in relief.

  “So no one knows?” I ask. “Not even Lathan or Quinton?”

  “No one. After you had left, I went back to my room, and Lathan thought I had just gone to get dinner. I didn’t correct him,” he says. “Which really sucked, because then I couldn’t order room service, so I went to bed hungry. And worried all night about where you had run off to.”

  “Oh,” I mutter, unsure of what else to say.

  “All you had to do was ask, and I would’ve told you that I had no plans to spread our business around.”

  “And how would I have known if I could trust you?” I ask.

  Kohen sighs before he answers. “I guess you wouldn’t know that until I proved it.”

  “Yeah.”

  “So why is it so important that no one finds out?” he asks. Still holding my chin in his grip, he rubs his thumb back and forth underneath.

  “Because I want to be the first woman of football, not the first floozy of football,” I tell him honestly.

  “You’re worried about what everyone would think about you sleeping with a teammate?” he asks.

  I nod.

  “You shouldn’t give a shit what anyone thinks. I don’t. But I know that you don’t have it as easy as the other guys and me.”

  “Nope. I sleep with one person on the team, and I’m a slut. You could sleep with all the Lady Cats at the same time, and you would get nothing but kudos.”

  “You ever slept with a teammate before?” he asks.

  “Not since high school,” I answer.

  “Bad experience?”

  “Ha!” I bark out a non-humorous laugh. “My dad and I had to move afterward.”

  Kohen’s forehead wrinkles in confusion. “Tell me, Roxy.”

  Since I’ve told him everything else, I take a shaky breath and then let it go. “When I was a sophomore, I made varsity. I was even the starter. All of the guys on the team were so nice to me, flirting, buying me shit, inviting me out to dinner and parties. It was nice to feel popular. I thought it was because I was proving myself on the field…”

  “It wasn’t?” Kohen asks when I hesitate.

  “One guy in particular, Tommy, a senior, one of the team captains, an all-state wide receiver, homecoming king, the works, put in an extra effort, and I…I fell for it. He was my first, and that same night I found out the whole team had a bet going, you know, for whoever could pop my cherry first.”

  “Those callous assholes,” Kohen growls. “Did you report them?”

  “No. But I got revenge on Tommy, rupturing one of his testicles.”

  “Holy shit. That’s how you got the Ballbuster nickname?” he asks.

  “Yeah. I hated it at the time, but none of the guys tried to touch me again afterward. They were jerks, making my life miserable in school. So, my Dad quit his job and we moved so I could keep playing football.”

  “Wow.”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’m rethinking having your knee between my legs now,” Kohen says, making me laugh. “If you had been about four inches lower with your throw, I would be in some serious pain right now.”

  “You shouldn’t have busted in my room,” I tell him. “How did you get in? The door was locked.”

  “Yeah, but I have the key,” he says with a grin.

  I scoff. “What if I had been naked?”

  “That’s why I had to get in here so fast.”

  “Bastard,” I tell him, lifting my knee until it brushes him between the legs. Kohen closes his eyes and sucks in a breath, definitely not because he’s in pain. I repeat the motion, and he groans and thrusts his hips forward seeking more contact with my skin.

  I’m not sure who moves first. Almost simultaneously, Kohen and I both have our fingers threaded through each other’s hair, lips crashing, tongues seeking entrance. It’s a frenzy as our bodies try to get closer with one goal in mind. The pulse between my thighs is desperate, needing to be impaled on his thickness that’s pressing against my thigh. His deep, penetrating tongue chases every thought but that one from my head and liquefies my bones as they try to melt through my clothing to find the warmth of his naked skin.

  Kohen lowers his hand from my hair to grab my ass and roll me on top of him, both of us moaning into each other’s mouths the moment our lower bodies perfectly align with only my shorts and panties keeping us from joining in what I know from experience will be ecstasy.

  “Off,” Kohen orders against my lips as he yanks my tank top up and over my head before going to work on my bottoms, shoving my shorts and panties down my legs as far as he can go. I kick them off the rest of the way and then straddle his hips, positioning my opening on the tip of
his cock.

  “No, not yet,” he says, finally pulling his mouth away from mine. Both of us are breathing heavy as I look down at his face and try to figure out why he put on the brakes. Oh right! We need a condom.

  Instead of mentioning the necessary prophylactics, though, Kohen grins up at me and reaches for my hips as he says, “You’re not rushing me this time.”

  With a sudden, insistent tug, I find myself moving up Kohen’s body until I’m straddling his face. I don’t even know what hit me when his tongue begins lapping at my center. My muscles tense and hips jerk automatically, trying to get away, but Kohen has a tight grip on my thighs, pulling me back down to his hot mouth.

  “Oooh,” I moan as my body turns limp, surrendering to the sweet torture of my pussy getting fucked by his slick tongue.

  “Mmm,” Kohen groans against my flesh, making me shudder. “There’s that sweet honey I’ve been craving.” He kisses, licks, sucks and I don’t even know what else between my legs. No longer trying to get away, Kohen’s at risk of suffocating when my hips start slamming down on his talented tongue, begging him for more as I get closer and closer to my release. My limited experience with sex before always felt like getting off a roller coaster at the highest point. Instead of teetering at the top, Kohen takes me right over the edge screaming, giving me the push I needed to ride it all the way through. I had no idea an orgasm could be so intense since he’s the first man who’s ever put his mouth between my legs.

  My eyes are still closed when Kohen eases me down his body and fills me with his cock.

  “Oooh, God,” I moan, falling forward on his chest as he takes me on the next amusement ride. This one is the mechanical bull, bouncing me up and down on his cock as I try to hang on and not fall off. My fingernails dig into his shoulders, and I bury my face in his neck, gasping with each thrust as he fucks me deep from the bottom. It’s so different from when I was in control, riding him on the hotel floor. The fullness is almost overwhelming, but oh so good.

  It doesn’t take long before I’m climbing up to the top of the roller coaster again, light-headed and dizzy, muscles clenching. My body shakes on top of Kohen’s as I ride the waves of every drop and upside down loop, coming on his cock this time while he fucks me through the tremors.

 

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