Ballbuster (A Playing Dirty Sports Romance Book 1)

by Lane Hart

  “Fuck, Roxy,” Kohen groans. He slams my hips down on his one last time before he grunts and erupts inside me. Once he’s finished, he relaxes his hold, soothing his hands up and down my back and over my ass as we both continue to pant, trying to catch our breath.

  “Goddamn, that was good,” he says, and I nod my agreement against his neck. So good that neither he nor I were quiet about how much we were enjoying it.

  “Aren’t you worried about someone finding out?” I ask, and Kohen tenses up underneath me.

  “What is this? Déjà vu?” he asks. “No one is gonna find out!”

  “There are a lot of people right outside the door,” I remind him.

  “Fuck them,” he says dismissively. “If you and I don’t tell anyone, then no one will know for sure. Rumors are just that, rumors.”

  I push myself up on shaky arms to find my clothes, but Kohen pulls me back down on top of him.

  “Nuh-uh. You’re not gonna run off this time. Besides, I want an encore,” he says, grabbing the back of my head to bring my lips down to his, kissing me softly. “Stay with me all night.”

  “What? No,” I answer with a shake of my head. “And you’ve got all those people here…”

  “I don’t care about any of them,” he says, kissing me again. “They’ll all leave eventually.”

  “If you say so,” I tell him. Since I don’t want him to leave right now, I relax against him, enjoying the warmth of his body against mine, our tongues casually getting familiar with each other.

  “See, this is nice,” Kohen says against my lips. “We could’ve done this if you hadn’t run from me last time.”

  “Sorry,” I say, placing a kiss on his chest. “You taste like chlorine.”

  “Well, you know what that means, right?” Kohen asks.

  “What?”

  “We need a shower.”

  “We?” I ask.

  “Yeah, because now you’ve got my chlorine and…various other substances on you.”

  “Why didn’t you use a condom?” I ask him.

  “Jesus Christ! This argument again?” He laughs with a shake of his head. “I guess I need to start wrapping my dick up whenever I’m around you in case the mood suddenly strikes.”

  “Who says it’s gonna happen again?” I ask with an arched eyebrow.

  “I do,” he answers with a slap to my ass. “Tonight. In the next few minutes. I would bet my boat on it.”

  “Hmm,” I reply. “I think I could hold out on you tonight if this boat is at stake.”

  “No way,” he says, pulling my lips down to his again. Forcing his tongue into my mouth, he proves me wrong. There’s no way I’m walking away from him tonight. For the last few days, I’ve regretted walking away from the hotel room. Now that I know it wasn’t a fluke and our second time was just as good if not better than the first time together, I want more. Especially more of the magic he works with his tongue between my legs. Feeling his cock hardening underneath me again, I suddenly have the urge to pay him back for his incredible oral skills.

  Reluctantly, I finally pull my mouth from his and climb off of him, standing up beside the bed. “Let’s go shower,” I tell Kohen, reaching for his hand to pull him up. He doesn’t resist.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Kohen

  Lord help me.

  I’m in a steaming hot shower with the most gorgeous woman in the world, and bless her heart, she’s in the best position known to man.

  On.

  Her.

  Knees.

  Did I mention my cock is in her mouth getting the shit sucked out of it? Hell yeah.

  Roxy’s blowjob technique is nearly as perfect as her kicking. Whether her mouth is working me deep or shallow, she follows through with her tight fist, and my balls are receiving plenty of attention.

  “Fucking…goddamn, Roxy,” I grunt between pants, slapping my palms against the shower wall in her guest bathroom to hold me up as my eyes roll back in my head.

  In my alternate universe, I’ve imagined nearly this exact scenario a time or ten, but the reality feels so much better. All I can think about at the moment is, please don’t let her stop and how the fuck can I make sure this happens again? And again. And then a few more blissful times before I leave this world for good.

  Holy shit!

  Is this how men find themselves in tuxes standing at an altar? They meet a woman who they would gladly die for if it meant being with her just one more time, but pray it turns out to be a few more than that? ’Cause, yeah, I could actually see myself giving up the single life and maybe even my soul to be with Roxy again.

  Her beautiful bobbing head, unfortunately, comes to a stop before she lets my dick slip from her mouth, looking up at me with those big, green eyes, droplets of water scattered across her all-natural face. I know it’s makeup-free because there are no dark smears around her eyes. She doesn’t need any special enhancement to make her more breathtaking.

  “Do you want me to keep going or do you want me to stand up against the wall so you can fuck me from behind?” she asks.

  Jesus.

  The final Jeopardy song plays in my mind as I quickly weigh the pros and cons of those two choices. Actually, there are no cons for either, just pros, so how the fuck am I supposed to decide between those two incredible choices? I can’t. It’s impossible. Roxy’s short-circuited my brain, and I can’t think anymore.

  “You decide,” I tell her, and she nods seriously as if she understands the conundrum she’s presented me with.

  “I don’t want to chance hurting your knee even more,” Roxy says before her lips eagerly seal around my cock again and suck my brains out. “And I want to taste you,” she quickly adds before going back to work.

  I love this woman. Not just because she’s giving me a-fucking-mazing head at the moment, but because she chose option A to go easy on my sore knee. She obviously wanted me to fuck her from behind. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have brought it up. But she’s selflessly finishing me off with her mouth. Which makes me want to lick her pussy again in appreciation. Do you see the vicious cycle being created?

  Roxy sucks hard on the head of my cock while squeezing my shaft tightly, and I come with what can only be described as a battle cry.

  This is it. She’s killed me. My soul leaves my body, floating high above us on a rush of endorphins from an orgasm so intense I think it may have exorcised demons.

  I stand there and recover while Roxy finishes washing. When she turns the water off, I still haven’t moved, and it has nothing to do with my knee.

  “You coming back to bed?” she asks over her shoulder before grabbing a towel and drying off.

  “Yeah, definitely.” There’s nothing I want more than to curl up underneath the sheets with Roxy and stay there the rest of the night. Hopefully, I can ravage her again, but after those two amazing rounds, it may not be right away.

  Once I’m dry, I join Roxy, who is already cuddled down in bed like she’s cold. I’m looking forward to warming her up. I slip under the sheets and reach for her, bringing her closer until her toned body with perfect curves in all the right places is pressing against me from our chests to our feet tangled together.

  “Ow, fuck,” I groan when her knee rams mine.

  “Shit, sorry,” Roxy mutters, quickly rolling away. “Let’s just spoon, so I don’t hurt you.”

  “Won’t argue with that,” I tell her, fitting my hips against her ass.

  “Aren’t you worried about them trashing your boat?” she asks.

  “No,” I tell her truthfully. The party-goers could do anything but sink this bitch, and I wouldn’t care. It would be worth it to get to stay in this bed with Roxy for a few more hours, her soft skin against mine. I rub my hand over her hip, up the dip in her hourglass figure before cupping her breast, making her giggle.

  “So how nervous are you about the game this week?” I ask her.

  “Don’t remind me,” she groans.

  “Hey, at least we’r
e at home, and you won’t have to worry about any booing or shitty songs,” I tell her, thinking about how the Knights played “Roxanne” to throw her off right before the field goal she missed last week.

  “That’s true,” she says.

  “Your dad coming to the game?” I ask.

  “Nah. He would have to leave tomorrow to drive all the way here and back, which would mean missing several days of practice. I know he wants to, but I told him to wait until they have a break later in the season.”

  “Why doesn’t he just fly? He could leave Thursday afternoon and be here in a few hours; then go back Thursday night after the game or Friday morning.”

  “Too expensive,” she says with a shake of her head.

  “Oh.”

  “I told him I would buy the tickets, but he told me to save my money and not spend it on him. He’s stubborn like that.”

  “Sounds like it,” I reply. “At least he wants to come. My parents only use the tickets I send them to wine and dine some high society member so they can convince them to support my dad’s election campaign.”

  “That sucks,” Roxy says, grabbing my hand from her breast and intertwining our fingers.

  “Yeah,” I agree. “Chase comes to home games whenever he can, usually decked out in face paint or with a big sign and shit just to embarrass the hell out of my parents on television. It’s hilarious.”

  “He sounds funny. You’ll have to introduce us some time,” she says.

  “I will. He’ll probably be at this week’s preseason home opener even if I’m not playing.”

  “That’s sweet.”

  “Nah, he just loves football and being a part of the excitement in the stadium.”

  “I can’t wait to take the home field for the first time, although I’ll probably throw up the first time I have to kick a field goal or extra point.

  “You’ll be fine,” I assure her. “Besides, these games don’t even count. They’re just to give everyone a few games to work out the kinks and help coaches decide who to cut before the season starts.”

  “I want to go practice in the stadium tomorrow.”

  “Good idea,” I reply.

  “Will you come with me?”

  “Yeah, sure. I’ll ask Coach Sigmon to make the arrangements in the morning.”

  “Thanks.”

  “No problem,” I tell her, thrusting my cock into the crease of her ass. “Anything you want, it’s yours right now while I’m still buzzing from that double dose of orgasms. Better hurry before the offer expires.”

  “In that case, I’ll take your boat with a side of your Audi.”

  “Give me a few more nights like this, and that could probably be arranged,” I tease.

  “Kohen…” Roxy starts, and I can tell by the tone of her voice that I’m not gonna like what she’s about to say. “Maybe we shouldn’t…”

  “Oh, we definitely should,” I disagree. To distract her from her argument, I release her hand to slip my fingers down her stomach while placing open mouth kisses on her neck. Roxy gasps when I rub two fingertips over her clit, and it doesn’t take long for her ass to start grinding against my hard cock.

  Tonight I’m gonna rock her world so many times that she won’t be able to even fathom the idea of sleeping alone in her bed without me. I want her desperate for me. Addicted. Then she’ll finally know exactly how I’m starting to feel about her.

  Sometime around two o’clock in the morning I wake up thirsty and dehydrated from the amount of sweat and other bodily fluids I’ve lost over the past few hours. The boat finally sounds quiet, like all the party-goers are gone, so I decide to go grab a bottle of water from the fridge and lock up.

  I get up still naked from the bed and stumble my way over to the door in the dark. As soon as I turn the knob, I realize how stupid we were to leave it unlocked the whole time. Thankfully we weren’t disturbed at least.

  Right as I step into the hall, my foot hits something on the floor, nearly making me break my neck. My arms shoot out, and I catch myself on either side of the hallway. The lights still on in the living room show me that the near fall was all thanks to the football on the floor, the one Roxy nailed me in the stomach with hours earlier. I pick it up so I won’t trip on it again and neither will Roxy, placing it on the kitchen counter. That’s why I see them ---the letters written in a silver marker all over it. Some are full sentences while others are just one word: honey, beautiful woman, looking gorgeous, tall, beautiful blonde, your leg is one of the best in the league.

  They’re compliments, I realize. Not only that, but they’re all my words. Well, all but “looking gorgeous” that I recognize as Quinton’s words, making me wish they were mine. Strange that she would write all those things on a football.

  I grab my bottle of water, lock the sliding glass doors, and then return to Roxy’s room to use the john before climbing back in bed with her. There are still several cardboard boxes taking up space on the floor, and I have to maneuver my way through the maze to and from the bathroom. From the dim light coming through the windows, I notice that a box beside her bed is full of more footballs. Grabbing one, I realize that it’s softer than the other, like it’s losing its air. Recognizing more markings, I carry it into the hallway, using the light from the living room to read it. On this one, there are various words written in black; and, unfortunately, I also remember that some came out of my mouth: conniving little bitch, Tonya Harding, maneater, manipulative bitch, fucking bitch.

  Why would she write all those horrible things down? And, God, I feel like shit for saying them. When we first met in the parking lot that day, I never gave Roxy the benefit of the doubt. I was wrong, which I realized as soon as I calmed down, remembering that I was distracted. That was all on her too, not that she knew it at the time. It’s not her fault that after I saw the photo of her for the first time I was awestruck and needed to see her again.

  I wish I could take some soap to my words written on the football and scrub them away, making them disappear from her memory too. But since I’m pretty certain she used a black permanent marker, I doubt that’s possible. Maybe from now on I can start giving her more compliments to write instead of hateful comments. There’s several I could think of off the tip of my tongue ---fucking gorgeous, breathtaking, best sex I’ve ever had, blowjob champion of the world, just to name a few.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Roxy

  I’m so nervous that my hands are shaking and my teeth are chattering. This is even worse than the game last week, because now I know exactly how much pressure will be on me once I run out of the tunnel with my teammates. Sure, Kohen’s right about how preseason wins and losses don’t count in the league, but to me, they matter. I’ve missed a field goal once, and I refuse to do it again.

  “Miss Benson, you have a visitor,” Melinda, the lady the team hired to be the locker room attendant for the sole female, tells me from the other side of the wall. She’s giving me privacy, which I appreciate even though I’m already dressed and ready in my pads.

  “I’ll be right out,” I tell her, figuring it’s someone else from the press wanting to do an interview. Like my stomach isn’t in enough knots without having to actually talk about being nervous with a microphone and camera shoved in my face.

  Grabbing my helmet from the bench, I decide to face the music and get it over with. Maybe it’ll be good to have something to keep my mind busy until kickoff.

  Only, when I step out into the hallway, there are no reporters. It’s just one tall, lanky fan wearing my number three jersey with pale blond hair peeking out from underneath his Wildcats hat.

  “Daddy!” I exclaim before throwing my arms around his neck, nearly knocking him out with the helmet still clutched in my hand.

  “Good to see you, Ladybug,” he says when he gives me a crushing bear hug.

  “I’m so glad you came!” I tell him as I pull away to see his face. “But you shouldn’t have missed practice. The team needs you.”

 
; “So do you. And I only missed this afternoon. I’ll even be back sleeping in my bed tonight.”

  “How is that possible?” I ask him.

  “Well, you see, there’s this crazy invention with wings and an engine that helps it fly through the air,” he answers with a grin.

  “You flew? But I bet last-minute tickets were outrageous! I would’ve paid for them, you stubborn man!” I tell him with a poke to his chest.

  “Quit fussing. I didn’t pay for them either.”

  “Did you hitch a ride in the cargo hold?” I tease.

  “Nope. Thanks to a friend of yours, I received plane tickets to and from all of the home games.”

  “A friend of mine?” I repeat.

  “Yeah, kind of crazy that he would do something so nice for you after you ran him over with your Jeep…”

  “Oh my God. Kohen bought the tickets?” I ask in amazement, my jaw falling open.

  “Sure did. There was also a note that said they were non-refundable, so I had no choice but to use them.”

  “Wow,” I say with a shake of my head. “I can’t believe he did that.”

  “Paxton is here too, but he pretended to get lost so he could linger around the guy’s locker room,” my dad tells me, making me laugh.

  “That does sound like something Pax would do,” I admit with a smile. “Well, tell him he better find me after the game instead of ogling the players.”

  “Will do,” he assures me. “Oh, and I brought you a little something. Thought you might need a good luck charm.”

  “Daddy, you didn’t have to do that. Knowing you’re here in the stands cheering for me is all I need for luck,” I tell him while he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a tiny white jewelry box.

  “You can never have too much luck, Ladybug,” he says, lifting the top to reveal a red and black beaded ankle bracelet with the occasional silver ladybug charm mixed in.

  “Thank you,” I tell my dad, removing the jewelry from the box before wrapping him in another hug. “Now I’ll have a lucky leg.”