Bedding the Bad Boy (Bad Boys of Football Book 1)

by Penelope Silva

  “What in the world?” I asked, moving aside to let them through.

  “I got it all. There’s a stroller, a car seat… well, two car seats because I didn’t know which one you’d like, some diapers, blankets, toys… I got everything I could think of. I’m sure I forgot something, but we can always get that later,” Beck spoke with childlike excitement in his voice. I didn’t know whether it was excitement or the emotion of it all, but I cried. Tears streamed down my face. “Why are you crying?”

  I couldn’t speak. I cried harder.

  Frank put his pile of items down: more blankets, baby clothes, a tiny football and child-size team jerseys. “I should go,” he said, embarrassed.

  “No, don’t,” I said. “I’m sorry. I think it’s the hormones. I’m a mess. How did you guys get in here?”

  Beck spoke to Frank. “Get the stuff out of the trunk. I’ll take care of her.” He smiled at me. “Who would refuse me? I can get in anywhere.”

  Frank nodded and left quietly.

  “Are you okay? What’s wrong?” Beck asked. “Don’t you like the baby stuff? If not, we can go out and get some things you do like.”

  I answered, “My mother wants to speak to you -- in person.”

  Beck gulped.

  “She’s not playing. I’ll buy her a ticket, but be warned; she’s going to tear into you,” I warned him. “My mother has made stronger men cry.”

  He smiled slyly. “Well, then, we better make good use of the time we have left before she does something awful to me, like kick me in the jewels.” He cupped his hands over his groin. “Oh, my precious jewels. I can’t live without them and neither can you.”

  Beck always had a way of making me laugh, even if it was with ridiculous drivel. “Stop it. I’m not the one I’m worried about.”

  “Oh? That sounds promising,” Beck said.

  “How many other women are there in your life?” I asked, bracing myself for his answer.

  “Are you asking me how many women I’ve been with? Really? That’s where you want to go? You want to have this conversation?” Beck’s mood shifted. “Isla, what do you want from me? Why can’t you be happy?”

  I grabbed his hand, wishing I’d not started this conversation and ruined this moment. “Forget it. Let’s do something fun.” I tried to persuade him.

  Frank returned, carrying more baby items, including stuffed animals, Onesies, and a tiny box. He handed the small box to Beck. “I thought you’d want this before I leave.”

  Beck took the box and shoved it into his pocket. “Another one of my brilliant ideas.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “Like I said, the hormones are screwing with me. The phone call with my mother didn’t help things. She said some things that got me thinking.”

  “Uh-oh; that’s what this is all about. Your mother hates me and she wants you to leave me. I get it,” Beck said.

  “No, that’s not it. She worries,” I tried to explain, but I could tell by his stance he didn’t believe me. I’d have to learn to pace myself with him. He was more fragile than I thought. That being said, it didn’t mean I was going to let him walk all over me. I needed to learn when to say things and when to take a moment to think before saying them.

  “Isla, whatever it is you’re thinking, is wrong. I’ve been with a lot of women, but I’m no idiot. I wore protection with most of them,” he said.

  I didn’t want to go there, but it had to be asked. “What about me and the one with the baby boy?”

  He cringed.

  “I mean, you thought… I mean…”

  “No, you’re right. I was dumb. I don’t know what I was thinking with her. It happened, but after that, I never let my dick do my thinking. I’d bang them, but never without taking care of my 9-inch man,” Beck said.

  “Nine-inch man? What are you, like twelve-years-old?” I shook my head at him.

  Frank had slipped out of my apartment unnoticed.

  Beck pulled me in for an embrace. “You’re all there is from now on; I swear. I’m done with all those other whores.”

  And, the moment was gone.

  “Excuse me! Did you call me a whore? Well, what exactly are you?” I challenged him.

  He shrugged. “A manwhore, of course.”

  I pulled myself from his embrace and whispered, “I’m having a manwhore’s baby.”

  “And, you’re going to be Mrs. Mahwhore,” he reminded me.

  “I hate you,” I teased.

  “You love me, but I know something you love a whole lot more,” Beck said, moving toward me again. “Why don’t you take those pants off and I’ll remind you?” He licked his lips as he reached for my waistband, slipping two fingers in it. “Let me lick you.”

  How could I deny myself the pleasure? “Your wish is my command -- this time,” I said, helping him slide my pants down over my hips.

  He inhaled quickly as he took in my fire engine red lace panties. “Damn, those are fucking sexy!”

  I took the opportunity to remove my blouse, exposing the matching red, lace bra. Underneath it, my breasts were tender -- one of the many new results of my pregnancy.

  With a sweet, tender touch, Beck traced his fingers around my breasts, taking his time -- a strong contrast to the way he normally approached them. After a few moments of caressing them, he moved his head closer to me, kissing me softly on the shoulder, then, my neck, then, my tender mounds of flesh. Slow, methodical, gentle and loving. I was surprised by his tenderness.

  “You are so beautiful! So fucking beautiful,” he whispered.

  I wasn’t at all offended by his vernacular. There was something so sincere about it. It felt like he meant what he said.

  “You’re having my baby,” he whispered.

  I reached for his hair, gently stroking it with my hands. “Yes, I’m having your baby. We’re having a baby.”

  He kissed my stomach. “My baby,” he whispered, almost as if he was talking to himself. Like I wasn’t even there.

  As if he had a sudden moment of clarity, he lifted himself slightly over me and focused on my belly. He moved down, kissing my hips, one side at a time. He kissed my thighs and moved back up, taking me into his mouth, kissing me gently, as if he was afraid I might break. I shifted my hips, lifting myself to him, wanting him to take me in his mouth.

  He slipped his tongue into my wet folds, moving slowly, gently.

  My back arched my hips forward, closer to his face. He moved his tongue faster, in and out, over my inner folds, reaching places I never knew he could.

  I moaned at the sensation. He moaned into me, keeping his tongue moving inside me from side to side, top to bottom, making my body want to explode. Together, we began to move, moaning and groaning, fiercely trying to hold onto the moment, the feeling, the pleasure.

  “I love you,” he whispered into me.

  “I love you more,” I whispered back. “I love you more.”

  He smoothed his hands over my body, feeling my arousal through my skin, my pores, my heart. I grabbed his strong shoulders when the sensations became too much to bear. I pulled, tugged, dug my nails into them, screaming his name as my juices spilled out of me and into his waiting mouth. He stayed there until my body calmed, resting his head below my belly. “You’re having my baby,” he whispered again, kissing my stomach.

  We fell asleep in each other’s arms. He felt like home. Something had changed, shifted. We were more comfortable. Relaxed. But in the back of my mind, I worried it would all go away. I worried he’d get scared and run from me -- from our child.

  For the time being, we were happy. Ready to start a family and ready to pretend like everything was okay. In my bed, we were a couple in love. In the media, we would be a spectacle, fodder for the tabloids, and a target for whoever held a grudge against him.

  Chapter Fourteen – Beck

  Ilooked good. I felt good. Life was good. Yeah, there was the bullshit with the district attorney to worry about, but my attorneys were paid a lot of money to take care
of things for me, so I wasn’t trying to let it get to me too much. Besides, I had more important stuff on my mind. Isla was having my baby. That was a big deal.

  “Oh, lookie, lookie, pussy-whipped has decided to join us on this trip,” Jared teased, pointing to me as I stepped onto the team plane.

  “Man, give me a break. Just because your stank ass can’t get any,” I joked. “Besides, you know damn well you need me. You would lose if it wasn’t for me.”

  Everyone laughed. Everyone was in a jovial mood. Yeah, things were good. Nothing could go wrong now. I wished I’d thought it out when I told Isla to invite her mother. I didn’t realize I’d be out of town on the same weekend she was arriving.

  “So, player,” Jared started. “What did you have to buy your girl to get her to let you leave her sight?”

  I laughed. As if a woman could tell me what to do. “I didn’t buy her anything. She already has everything she wants. She got me and my three yards of dick,” I joked.

  The whole plane ride over, all I could do was think about Isla and how she’d changed my life in such a short time. Before her, I thought my chance at something real was over. I thought I’d missed my one shot at it. Isla was giving me my reputation back, but she was also giving me so much more. I hoped, I wouldn’t fuck it up.

  We had a day of practice before the game. That gave us the night off, and for us, that always meant a night out.

  “You down to go out, Beck?” Jared asked.

  I was always down for a night out. I was an expert at celebrating. And if any event called for a celebration, this was it.

  “Yeah, I’m down,” I said, figuring there was no harm in not disclosing that information to Isla. She’d made me promise I’d stay clear of trouble and not end up in the tabloids.

  The whole team started laughing.

  “What? What the hell is so funny?” I asked, laughing because I knew exactly why they were laughing at me. We all knew few women were fine with their man going out on the town, especially when that man was someone like me, someone with a reputation for collecting women the way some people collected stamps.

  “It’s your ass, dude. Isla isn’t like the knuckleheads you usually waste your time with; she’s a black woman. They’re different. They won’t take any shit, especially from a white boy,” Jared warned me.

  “I may be a white boy, but I’m a rich mother fucking white boy with a dick three times the size of the average black man, so I think I’ll be alright,” I joked. “You worry about staying out of my way because the nightlife is made for men like me.”

  When the plane landed, we were met with a larger crowd than usual. This was a big game. We were playing our division rivals. People were counting on us to win. Vegas had us up by two touchdowns, so for those who bet, their bank accounts were counting on us.

  I managed to get to the hotel without any problems. Things were running smoothly. All I had to do was get through the night and win the game. After that, I’d have a few days off to spend with Isla and try harder to persuade her to move into my house. That little apartment she lived in wasn’t fit for a woman like her and how would it look if she stayed there while I lived in a seven-bedroom house?

  After we grabbed some lunch, I retreated to my room to call and check in on Isla.

  “Hey there,” she answered.

  “Hey yourself. Do you miss me?” I asked, relieved to hear the sound of her voice.

  “Of course, but someone else misses you more,” she said.

  I laughed. “Tell your mom I’m sorry.”

  “That’s not who I was talking about. The police came to the house. Didn’t they call you?” Isla sounded upset.

  “No, I don’t think so. I didn’t see any messages. What’s up?”

  Isla stammered. “They arrested someone.”

  “Who? For what? At my house?” My heart started to beat faster.

  “No, not at your house. They said they’d placed someone under arrest and would get in contact with you. Maybe you should call them. Okay? Don’t panic,” Isla said. “I’m sure everything is alright. You should give them a call and find out what happened.”

  I couldn’t help but panic. I wanted to know who it was. “Isla, I have to go. Again, tell your mom I’m sorry. You two stay at my house as long as you want. Tell her we’ll make a trip to see her soon. Try not to miss me too much. Love you,” I said.

  I placed a phone call to my attorneys as soon I hung up with Isla. It went to voicemail.

  “Damn!” I hung up and tried the police non-emergency number.

  The dispatcher told me the detectives were out of the office, but she’d have them call me back.

  Jared texted me. “Are you ready, player?”

  I needed a drink. “Yeah, let’s do this.” I texted back.

  After a quick shower and another phone call to my attorneys, I was ready to head out and relieve some stress. I figured this would be one of the last times I’d get the opportunity to hang out with the guys. After the baby was born, I intended to spend as much time as I could with him or her. I didn’t care either way. I hoped the baby was healthy because I knew I could take care of the happy part. Easy!

  We started in the hotel bar. The atmosphere was light and fun. There weren’t any distractions. It was me and some teammates. As far as I was concerned, I was honoring my promise to Isla.

  Two bottles of Merlot later, I was feeling really good. That’s when the crowd got bigger. Someone had leaked, we were there, so naturally the leeches came out in droves to hang out with the team. Drinks were flowing. Bottles were popping. The music got louder and the room got smaller.

  “I spot a hottie on three,” Jared nodded toward a drunk blonde.

  “I see her,” I answered, noticing her slender figure. She was hot. A couple of months ago, she would have been on my lap three drinks ago, but I wasn’t in the mood. Maybe I was whipped? Man, how did I let things get this far? I know how. I volunteered for this. I got myself into this. Not too long ago, I was minutes from banging two women and having the time of my life and now, I’m thinking about sitting in rocking chairs, watching my grandchildren play outside in the yard. What the hell!

  “You want to take a bite or should I?” Jared gave the hot blonde chick googly eyes.

  I took a sip of my drink, tipping my head to him. “No, it’s all you. Have at it; I think she likes your type.”

  Jared laughed. “What’s my type? Big, black, and hard?”

  “Nope. Big, black, and happy to fuck anyone,” I teased.

  I watched him use one of my signature moves on the girl: a head nod and a wink. What did that mean anyway? I never set out to make it a move. It was something I did because I never knew how to respond when someone was staring at me with her tongue hanging out of her mouth. Anyway, the move worked. The girl was high-tailing it for Jared’s lap and his night was made. In the meantime, I was feeling good and enjoying the night. I'd forgotten all about the incident at my house.

  “She’s got friends,” Jared said as he slipped his hands up under her short jean skirt.

  I nodded. “More for you.”

  The blonde spoke to me in a singsong voice. “You’re so fucking hot.”

  Tell me something I didn’t know. “So are you,” I replied. I wasn’t lying. She was hot with her tiny waist and Double D’s. I wasn’t always excited about blondes because they came a dime a dozen. If the woman wasn’t blonde, she could easily pay someone to make her blonde, so the thrill was kind of gone. She wasn’t Isla.

  “Do you want to party tonight?” Blondie’s attention was on me, but Jared didn’t seem to notice. He kept his hand sliding up and down her skinny thighs while she tried to mind fuck me.

  “I am partying,” I said, holding up my drink for her to see.

  “The drink can’t do the kind of things my girls and I can do to you,” she purred.

  “Damn, girl, slow down. Does your mama know you talk like that?” Jared teased, but the way his hands moved higher up under her s
kirt, he wasn’t as turned off by it as he pretended to be.

  “Where are your girls?” I asked out of curiosity. I guess to call her on her seductive bluff.

  She stood up, stopping to stoop down so I could get a full view of her tight ass and Jared would get a peek at the mounds under her blouse. “Don’t move. I’ll be right back.”

  The guys and I didn’t bother to wait for her to leave the lounge before we started laughing. We’d met all kinds of women, but this woman was a little bolder than most. I think we all liked it. Something fresh and new or, in her case, probably something she tried on every celebrity she met, but hey if it works, why not?

  When she returned, she wasn’t lying. She had two of her equally slutty but hot friends with her and was ready to make good on her naughty promise. “We’re here!”

  You sure are, baby, I thought as my eyes skimmed each of their bodies. These girls were dangerous with a capital Stay-the-fuck-away-from-them, but none of my teammates understood and tripped over themselves to get closer to them and get their needs met, right here in the middle of a crowded lounge.

  I had to get out of there. Something about it seemed too convenient. I didn’t care how many drinks were in me, my trouble radar was going off like crazy and I’m pretty sure I had Isla to thank for that.

  “Alright guys, have fun. I’m out,” I said as I tried to squeeze through the crowd gathered around the team.

  “Wait,” blonde bimbo number one begged me, grabbing the back of my shirt. “Don’t you want this?”

  I knew she had exposed herself because the crowd gasped and clapped like they’d seen the second coming of something, but I had to refrain from turning my head to see. That would have been a horrible idea because a fine woman flashing her titties in my face was a direct route to banging her all night long and we both knew it. That’s why she did it.

  I played the coward card. It was the only one I could think of onshort notice. “Sorry, baby. It’s past my bedtime. I have a game to win tomorrow.”

  Blondie wasn’t ready to let go, and honestly, I wasn’t sure I wanted her to, but I’d made a promise -- a promise to the woman who was having my kid. That meant something to me, so I resisted the urge. It wasn’t easy. This woman wanted me. She wanted me bad.