Ballbuster (A Playing Dirty Sports Romance Book 1)

by Lane Hart

  “You’re welcome. Now go kick the shit out of some balls for your old man,” he says with a slap to my shoulder pads.

  “See you after the game?” I ask.

  “Of course. Love you, Ladybug.”

  “Love you too,” I tell him with a kiss on his cheek before I bend down to hook the anklet around my right leg and start toward the tunnel to wait for the rest of the team.

  The nerves are still there but now subdued thanks to being surprised by my dad and Paxton coming to cheer me on. And then there’s the warmth in my chest because Kohen did this for me. He’ll be on the field waiting on the sidelines when we run out, and it’s gonna be hard not to kiss him when I see his sweet, gorgeous face. There will be plenty of time for that later tonight once we win this first home game.

  Kohen

  As soon as Roxy jogs out through the smoke when the announcer calls her name to deafening cheers for the first time on the home field, I know from the smile on her face that she’s feeling more confident and that she’s gonna kick ass tonight. Or more specifically some balls.

  Removing her helmet, she jogs over to the sidelines, and I nearly lose my balance from how beautiful she is up close, her long, light blonde hair falling around her shoulders, exuding radiance. This is maybe the first time I’ve ever seen her look so happy, the love of football obvious in her expression, the worry and hesitation absent.

  “Thank you,” she says when she’s in front of me. “I just saw my dad. You didn’t have to do that, but I’m really glad you did.”

  “You’re welcome,” I tell her. “It seemed important to you…”

  “It was. It is,” she agrees, blinking back tears. “Damn you for making me break Roxy Rules one and two.” She fans her face subtly.

  “Roxy Rules?” I ask with a grin since I have my own rules, ones she has all but demolished.

  “Yeah, no sleeping with teammates is number one, and no crying is number two.”

  “Oh, well I think you need new rules. Or an amendment,” I tell her quietly. “Like no sleeping with teammates, except for Kohen.”

  “Right,” she says with an eye roll. “Well, now you know one way to keep getting an invite into my bed.”

  I run my finger and thumb over my mouth in case any cameras or observers are around before I say my next words. “Lick your pussy until you melt into the sheets?”

  “Ah, no. But that may work too,” she says, laughing as her cheeks turn red. “I meant surprising me with visits from my dad.”

  “I’m a little concerned about the oddness of that correlation, but damn if it’ll stop me from doing it again,” I tell her.

  “Having him here just makes me happy,” she says. “It’s nice to know that no matter how many people are waiting for me to fail, he’s cheering for me to succeed.”

  “He’s not the only one,” I say. “This whole crowd is cheering for you. Now, aren’t you supposed to be doing kickoff today?”

  “Oh shit!” Roxy says, spinning around and watching as our other team captains, Quinton, Nixon and Lathan, walk back to the sidelines after the coin toss.

  “You’re up,” Quinton tells Roxy with a grin.

  “Shit, shit, shit,” she mutters as she tugs her helmet back on.

  “You’ve got this,” I tell her. “Just kick it through the back of the end zone, and then you won’t have to even worry about possibly being the only person who can stop a run back for a touchdown.”

  She scoffs and then starts to jog out onto the field with the rest of our special team line.

  “Roxy!” I call out.

  She stops and turns around.

  “Forgetting something?” I ask.

  Her eyes widen before she runs back over and grabs the tee from one of the equipment managers, then gives me a thumbs up.

  After she takes the football from the referee and stands it up on the tee, I hold my breath, waiting for her kick. I know she can do this, as long as she doesn’t panic.

  With a raise of her right arm, she leads the charge down the field. Her foot connects with the ball, and not only does she send it sailing through the end zone, but she also puts it dead center through the uprights. Of course, we won’t get points for it, but it’s still a high note on which to start the game.

  Our defensive line gives her high fives as they take the field, and the rest of our teammates pat her on her shoulder pads in congratulations as she comes back to the sidelines.

  “Easy, right?” I ask her when she’s next to me.

  “Yeah, easy,” she agrees with a grin. “I just imagined the ball was super light, filled with hot air, you know, sort of like you’re head.”

  I chuckle at her insult. “Always busting my balls.”

  “I’ll kiss them better tonight,” she whispers before walking away and leaving me standing there with an ache behind the fly of my khaki shorts.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Roxy

  After celebrating the preseason win at a late dinner with my teammates, Dad and Paxton, I take my two favorite people in the world to the airport and say goodbye.

  While I’ll miss them of course, on the ride home I can’t help but smile. Our team won, and I was a part of that win with three extra points and two field goals. I also punted and did all of the kickoffs. Coach Griffin said he was impressed with how good I was helping with field position and that I might have the starting job over Warren.

  Parking at the dock, Kohen’s car is already back in the lot since he drove separately now that he no longer needs the crutches. I use my key to let myself inside the houseboat; and then once I take a quick shower, I don’t even consider climbing into my bed alone. Instead, I tiptoe naked down the hall to Kohen’s room, figuring he’s asleep but ready to surprise him by slipping under his sheets.

  When I open his bedroom door, I realize that he’s definitely still awake. Not only that, but there are candles lit up all around the room. And since his room has a sliding glass door that leads to the deck, he has it open, allowing the gentle breeze smelling of the ocean to fill the room.

  “This is…wow, Kohen,” I tell him, my eyes finally finding the incredible man in bed with his hands propped behind his head on the pillow, a scorching hot grin on his face.

  I’m climbing on the bed kissing him before he can open his mouth to respond. He didn’t go to all this trouble to try and convince me to fuck him. He did it because he wanted to impress me, show me that he’s trying to be more. It’s sweet, just like sending my dad and Paxton plane tickets to the home games.

  As soon as my tongue slips into Kohen’s mouth, he’s no longer laid back, relaxing. He becomes an active participant, shoving down the blankets covering him and separating us. Squeezing my ass cheeks in both of his palms, he pulls me against him so that we’re skin to skin, not even a thin sheet of paper could fit between us.

  “I missed you,” he says against my lips, making me smile.

  “I just saw you half an hour or so ago,” I remind him.

  “I’ve missed touching you. Kissing you. Being inside you,” he replies, pressing me down so that my wet pussy slips along the length of his hard cock.

  “Me too,” I tell him honestly.

  When I first came out on the field tonight, I wanted to jump in his arms so badly I couldn’t stand it. That also reminds me of the promise I made him earlier, so I move my mouth down to his chest and stomach, kissing and licking his incredible body as I slide lower.

  “I’m the luckiest man ever,” Kohen says when I place my lips on the tip of his cock.

  “Must be all my ladybugs,” I tell him with a smile.

  Wrapping my fist around the base of his shaft to hold it up, I run the flat of my tongue down the underside of his thickness until my mouth finds the thin skin of his sac. Kohen gasps for air when I roll my tongue around one of his balls and then the other before sucking it into my mouth.

  “Fuck, Roxy,” he groans, squirming on the mattress. “Get my dick wet and then ride me, baby.”


  Hearing the need in his voice, I move my mouth back up to his cock, stretching my lips around his girth to suck him deep over and over again until he’s nice and slick. I don’t stop until Kohen grabs my hair to pull me off of him and up his body. He brings my lips crashing down to his with one hand while the other reaches between us to shove his dick inside me. I’m so ready for him that he slides right in without any resistance. My body greedily takes him deep inside me, and I moan in pleasure while bearing down on his fullness.

  “God, I need you to move,” Kohen groans, but I shake my head.

  “Can’t. Feels too good.” Rocking forward on him, my clit hits the base of his cock, and I nearly combust. I vaguely hear Kohen grumble before I find myself on my back, him above me for the first time ever.

  “Wait. Your knee,” I warn him, afraid he’ll hurt himself.

  “Worth it,” he says as he begins to pound into me, fast and hard.

  “Deeper,” I urge him, digging my fingernails into his tight ass to try and keep him inside. I love having his big body above me, on me, dominating me as he fucks me.

  Kohen slips a hand between us, pressing it down on my pelvis and slamming his hips into me, making me cry out from the amazing pressure.

  “That’s all your sweet pussy can take, baby,” he tells me. “A shame because I’ve got more dick for you. My balls aren’t even slapping your ass.”

  “Uhh, Kohen,” I cry out, my back arching in need as the pressure in my core starts to build. When Kohen suddenly pulls out, I whimper in protest right before I’m flipped over, face down on the pillow.

  “I need it deeper too,” Kohen says. Kneeing my thighs wider apart, he grasps my hips, lifting them while shoving forward.

  “Ughhh, God!” I moan when he hits the spot inside me that’s never been touched before.

  “Fuck, that’s good,” Kohen grunts between pumps of his hips, each thrust knocking the head of his cock against the ballooning pressure growing inside me, his balls slapping rapidly against my sensitive clit until I combust while screaming his name.

  The explosion is so intense that I blackout for some length of time. When I come to again, blinking my eyes open, the first thing I notice is that I’m sprawled over Kohen’s chest, and his lips are moving along the side of my face. Then I hear his soft words.

  “It’s believed that she first came to Earth by lightning, sent by the goddess of love and beauty.”

  “The legend of ladybugs?” I ask him with a euphoric smile, having read something about the Nordic belief before.

  “The legend of Roxy,” he says before his lips cover mine.

  When we break apart minutes or hours later, I ask Kohen, “Is your knee okay?”

  “Never better,” he answers, bending it, raising it in the air.

  “Good,” I say, swirling my fingertips over the smooth skin of his abdomen.

  “Next week I may be able to start practicing again,” he tells me.

  “Really?” I ask, lifting my head to see his face. “That’s great!”

  “Jon said we’ll start slowly at first.”

  “Yeah, but that’s a good sign that you’re doing so well,” I reply.

  “Don’t worry; your job’s still safe for the next few weeks.”

  “I don’t care if I ride the bench,” I tell him honestly. “Just being part of the team is the biggest accomplishment of my life. One that so many people told me would never happen.”

  “Yeah,” he says, placing a kiss on the top of my head. “I know. It’s just…I wish we could both start, because I see how much you love the game.”

  “You’re better than me,” I tell him. “Less likely to miss.”

  “Maybe. Maybe not,” he says with a sigh. “But the difference in us is that I’ve never really loved football.”

  “Seriously?” I ask in shock. “What’s not to love?”

  “Soccer was my passion. Football was just a way to earn a scholarship in college, and a big payday in the professional league.”

  “So, you do it for the money? Really?” I ask in surprise.

  “Don’t forget the women,” he adds with a wink.

  “Whatever,” I grumble.

  “I would never have had all this if I were still playing soccer. Instead, I’d be living in a tiny apartment, probably working a part-time job just so I could pay the bills and play.”

  “That sucks,” I say, thinking about what I would be doing if I hadn’t gotten the call from the Wildcats. Well, I would’ve been miserable. Is that how Kohen feels about not playing soccer?

  “Everything will work out,” he eventually says with a squeeze to my shoulder. “Let’s try and get some sleep. I bet you’re exhausted from the game and all.”

  “Yeah,” I mumble into his chest. “Should we blow out the candles before we pass out?”

  “Nah. They’re LEDs,” he says, followed by a chuckle. “You think I would risk a candle catching fire on my boat if I’m out at sea? No way.”

  “Smart,” I agree. “Oh, and I’ve been wondering, why did you decide to turn the master bedroom into a gym and sleep in a guest room?”

  “Long story for another day,” he replies sadly, followed by a kiss on the top of my head. “Good night, baby.”

  “Night, Kohen,” I reply before drifting off to sleep.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Kohen

  When my brother Chase texts me he’s in the stadium half an hour before the last preseason game kickoff, I head up to the family suites to find him.

  Unfortunately, a conniving bitch from my past finds me first.

  “Kohen!” Lola exclaims overly sweetly from behind me.

  Before I turn around, I pray that during the past offseason her physical appearance has finally morphed to match the evil inside. Turning to face her, I’m disappointed to see that she’s just as stunning as ever, and motherhood agrees with her. Her raven hair is now a pixie cut, but she’s pretty enough to pull off the short hair. Wearing what’s probably a yellow designer dress made to look casual, her charcoal eyes glow with glee since she’s probably counting all the dollars her husband is making down on the field.

  “How you doing, Lola?” I ask with a heavy sigh. It’s not as if I can be an asshole to her like I really want. There are too many people wandering around us in the family suites, most of who know the two of us not only dated but were engaged before she started screwing Coach Powell. Yet another thing about her I hate besides the heartache, insecurities and loss of self-esteem she single-handedly caused. She also made everyone on the team and most of their family members feel sorry for me, the pathetic kicker who got the boot from the woman he loved.

  “I’m wonderful, as always, but I was sorry to hear about your accident. Such a shame that little twit hit you and took your starting spot,” she says, instantly causing a surge in my blood pressure.

  “Roxanne’s not a twit, and she didn’t take my spot,” I correct, the words mumbled since they have to try and force their way through my clenched teeth.

  “Yes, that’s right. Her name’s Roxanne, like that old song about a whore,” she replies with a fake smile, her insult so fucking hypocritical it’s laughable.

  How I not only managed to tolerate this woman for a year but actually considered marrying her is beyond me. Was I simply so stupid and naïve that I was blinded by her looks? Lola’s still undeniably a very attractive woman. Any man would agree. But seeing her here now, after falling asleep with Roxy in bed beside me every night for the past two weeks, and waking up to not only her breathtaking physical beauty but the gorgeous, sweet woman I’m learning she is on the inside, well, Roxy makes Lola look like a hag.

  “You know, in that whore song,” I start, “maybe Sting was actually just begging for a woman he couldn’t afford. And maybe the real problem he didn’t understand about Roxanne was that unlike most other women, she simply couldn’t be bought by anyone.”

  Lola’s evil, manipulative brain is still trying to figure out what the hell I w
as talking about when my brother finds us.

  “Excuse me, ma’am, do you happen to have any more trays of those spicy, hot wings?” Chase asks Lola with a fake uppity accent before feigning recognition. “Oh, shit. Sorry, Lola. I thought you were one of the food service staff.”

  With an indignant scoff, she storms away, and I offer him a subtle fist bump behind her back.

  “Nice,” I tell him. “She’ll probably have nightmares about having to work in a kitchen.”

  “Thank fuck you didn’t marry her and spawn tiny, money-grubbing panhandlers,” he replies softly so only I can hear.

  “Wow, that’s sort of sad. Now I’m picturing dirty little people holding up cardboard signs,” I tell him.

  “Yeah, ones that say My mom will suck your dick for a dollar,” he whispers.

  “You’re horrible,” I say, unable to hold back my bark of laughter. A second later I hear a familiar voice across the room say, “Could we get two more of these? Thanks, hon!”

  Spinning around, I find the source just in time. Roxy’s friend, Paxton, holds up his bottle of beer to Lola, who vanishes from the suite. The man pulls off uppity a little better than my casually dressed brother since he’s wearing another suit like the last time I saw him. Next to him is a tall, blond man, Roxy’s father, wearing a Wildcats jersey with his daughter’s number on the front. “Let me go introduce you to Roxanne’s people,” I tell my brother, leading him over to the two men.

  “I overheard your whole exchange, her basically calling Roxy a whore and couldn’t resist,” Paxton says when we’re next to him.

  “Thanks. She deserved it,” I say not bothering to fill him in on my and Lola’s past. “Paxton and Mr. Benson, this is my younger brother Chase. Chase, this is Roxanne’s best friend and dad.”

  “Nice to meet you,” Chase says as they all shake hands. “I bet you’re proud. Your daughter’s giving my brother a run for his money.”

  “Hey now!” I speak up. “She has been under my tutelage for the past few weeks, so I have to take a little credit for her success.”