Jocked Up: Sports Romance (A Secret Baby Second Chance Romance) Read online

  “Take me home.”

  He held his hand up to the waitress and we were out of the place in less than two minutes.

  Chapter Five

  Our bodies came together in the dark recess of my front door, his hands in my hair, tilting my head as his lips sealed against mine. My arms were around his waist, pulling him close, my hunger growing for him as his silken tongue slid across my bottom lip, inviting me to open for him. I did and saw stars as a deep purr of satisfaction rumbled through his chest.

  Quickly, I groped for the door, for once glad I’d forgot to lock it. We tumbled into the house, heading for the couch in the living room. The room was full of air and light, clean, tiny, and the couch big enough for both of us. His lips never left mine as we peeled off our clothes, eager to be skin to skin. My dress disappeared, his shirt, and we were left with only our underwear and a pair of jeans between us. Even our shoes had disappeared.

  I liked Drake in only his jeans, the material stretching across his ass an invitation I could resist but I soon slid a hand beneath the cloth as his hands began to explore me. I was glad now I’d stopped on the way home for new lingerie. Grey silk and black lace edgings made the soft material sexy and Drake’s eyes devoured me before his hands took my breasts, kneading the soft flesh gently as his head came to rest between the globes.

  He inhaled my scent, a new one I’d also picked up, and he gave a soft moan of delight. I smiled but needed his touch; I needed to feel the passion only he could stir in me. I’d cut myself off from love, I’d smothered my libido and that was part of the reason I’d been so angry with Drake, I’d not been touched by passion since Peter was conceived. Oh, how I needed it now.

  “Touch me.” I pleaded, pressing my breasts into his palms as my hips brushed against his bulging zipper. “Please touch me, Drake.”

  He stopped for a moment, uncertainty in his gaze, but I put my hand over his and ground my hips into his once more, a physical plea. His moment of doubt passed and his fingers brushed away the cups of my bra, revealing the dark nipples I’d been so embarrassed about as a younger woman. He’d said they were beautiful, their rich darkness a contrast he adored. His lips suckled one, then the other eagerly, making me moan as he sucked hard at each in turn.

  My legs wrapped around his hips, needing to feel him pressing into my hot center. I felt as though a fire burned there, a needful ache that only he could quench, but his touch, his lips, his sounds only made the fire hotter, the ache deeper, and I needed more. Something had to satisfy this burning need, something only he could give me.

  “Drake.” I was lost in his touch in the sweet power of his lips teasing my nipples into tight peaks. His fingers moved with my sigh, down my stomach, beneath the silk of my panties, and slid at last into the wet heat of my outer lips. I bit my lip as his fingers found me, sliding damply inside of my wet walls.

  Impossibly, the fire grew even hotter, and I was calling his name as his fingers thrust into me, his body on one side of me where we were stretched out on the basic black couch, He watched me as he stirred my arousal to a height I’d never imagined before. There, with my legs falling open one moment and then clamping together with the next, Drake’s finger drove me to the edge as his lips teased my nipples.

  Inside of me, his fingers slid around, plunging deep before retreating, making me cry out with abandon. When his thumb found my clit electric pleasure surged through my body and I was lost, falling into the abyss that was release.

  “That’s it, Bethany. Show me how truly beautiful you are. Come for me baby, don’t let it stop. Stay with me.” He urged me on, his hips pressing into mine and I could feel the long hard length of him. That would be mine soon too. Once more I fell over into passion, my breasts pressed into his mouth as my hips pressed back into the couch, my body moving as it wished.

  I lost all control, all will, as Drake made my body dance for him. His fingers never stopped moving, not until I gave a final shout of pleasure. His pants finally disappeared and he was over me, our eyes locked together. He breathed out, long and slow, and I thought he was going to say something but he didn’t, and I closed my eyes, making the world only my body and his as he surged into me.

  A sharp burst of air left his lips and my eyes flew open. We were together, we were one, and Drake’s eyes reflected my own wonder of just how beautiful it felt. Without the shame of him almost being my step-brother, without the teenage hormones and doubts all I felt was the exquisite sensation of having Drake inside of me. I moved, shifting to let him slide deeper, and we began moving together.

  Drake slid his hand under my bottom, tilting my hips to accept more of him as my legs wrapped around his hips once more. He groaned as we moved together and my hands, clenched at his shoulders, dug into his flesh in response. Letting my head fall back with my own answering moan I gave myself up to Drake, letting him do as he pleased.

  I clenched my inner muscles around him, wanting to feel his release, to urge him on. I wanted to watch his face as his control slipped. There’s something inherently powerful about making a man lose his will to hold back, to make him let go as he emptied into you. Or so I’m told.

  My hands roamed his silky skin, trying to find the spots that made him moan. I might be a modern woman but I truly had little idea about being a sex goddess. I kept myself so busy I didn’t even masturbate anymore. I went to bed far too tired to even contemplate it. But now I wish I’d have at least read some kind of online blog about how to please my man. All I had now was innocent caresses that might not be so innocent.

  Curious, I let my hand slide down between us, to feel myself hot and damp. The pressure of my own fingers was exciting but as my fingers slide further down, sliding around the hard length of Drake’s surging flesh he gasped. My eyes quickly went to his face, the studied concentration was broken now as he looked down at me, his mouth open as his eyes caught mine. Mine glinted wickedly, I could all but feel it, and he gave me his own devilish grin.

  “Oh two can play that game, missy.” He said as he took the weight off of one arm and tweaked my right nipple.

  My body responded instantly as it bowed, my nipple pressing into his hand.

  “That’s just evil.” I said to him, my own fingers going to his flat nipples. Taking both between my fingers I admired his tan flesh for a moment before squeezing.

  “Fucking hell!” Drake’s words verbalized his body’s response to my fingers. His cock pressed into me, deeper, as his hips thrust against his will. “That is new and oh so good!”

  I felt a surge of pleasure bolt through my body at his words. Mixed into that was something new, something highly erotic and delightful. Power! I had the power to make this man feel something more than the run of the mill arousal he had known before. I continued to watch his face as he stroked into me, wondering what was going to finally send him over the edge.

  My legs were wrapped around his waist, my inner muscles clenching at him, and his nipples were nestled between the silky soft tips of my fingers.

  “Kiss me, Drake.”

  He looked down at me then and blinked, but did as I asked. His lips met mine and our lips played over each other as his every breath came faster. As my tongue snaked out, teasing his lips his breathing halted. For a moment, his hips faltered. When I sucked at his tongue with my mouth he groaned loudly and I felt the first pulsing of his orgasm.

  My own body responded to the moment, the heady erotic sensations sucking me along with him as we cried out together, our bodies joined, our pleasure fusing us together in that moment. I followed once more, my body a jumble of nerves until I floated back down, a sensation of suddenly crashing back to earth, back into my own body leaving me breathless and in awe.

  “Wow.” I gasped the word, feeling silly but yeah, that was the only word that covered it.

  “Yeah,” Drake said as he moved away to take his weight off of me. “Wow.”

  He sounded dazed as he slid in beside of me, cradling me close as we caught our breath and our he
art rates slowed. Wow. I lay there with my head on a throw pillow, amazed at what I’d just done and what I’d just experienced. Alright, so it was probably a lot of built up tension from my teenage years, from the years of no sex, and from the simple fact that even though Drake had been an ass he was still hot. That lopsided grin of his could still melt my joints.

  What had started out as a really good night had just turned into one of the most pleasurable nights of my life. Alright, the most erotic and pleasurable night of my life. Everyone had told me to give him a chance and on the second go round he’d proven what a truly gallant, observant, and charming guy he was. And that he could get me off and get me off hard.

  “Well then. Do you want coffee, a beer?” I had no idea what the usual aftersex talk was, if there was talk or if people just went to sleep so I pulled out my normal hostess skills and used those.

  “What do you want?” He asked sleepily, a contented smile on his face.

  “Round two.” I laughed as soon as the words were out and stared up at my ceiling, wishing I wasn’t such an idiot.

  “How about a glass of juice or water and you show me your bedroom then?” He shifted, moving to an elbow to look down at me.

  “Oh.” I blinked at him, pleased at his offer. I hope that meant he was going to be staying the night. That was my real question, I realized, are you staying or are you leaving?

  “I’ll get the glasses out then.” I stood up from the couch and went into the kitchen. Drake followed me into the small room and looked around when I flipped the light on.

  “You have a nice house, Bethany.” He settled into a chair as I pulled down two glasses from a dark mahogany cabinet.

  “It is, I’m proud of it. But I’d like to give Peter a bigger back yard, more room to roam around in. He’ll be a teenager soon enough and if he’s anything like me he’ll want lots of room to hide until the horror is over with.” I laughed but I saw a moment of pain in Drake’s eyes.

  “Hopefully, his teen years won’t be like ours. Losing my dad and you losing your mom, those were hard times for both of us.”

  I’d never quite heard Drake talking about his dad like that. I could hear the pain he’d hidden for so long, a new for me. Drake was showing a vulnerability I’d never known existed.

  “I miss my mom. If there’s any justice in the world, I’ll manage to make it through Peter’s life. I get checkups regularly, just to make sure.” I could at least do something to try to prevent any catastrophe for my son; Drake’s father had been killed in the line of duty.

  “Probably why I never joined the military, there’s little chance of being shot on a football field. Unless you piss off your fans.” He laughed and the moment was gone. I guess that’s how he’d always dealt with it, laughter.

  “Then don’t do that.” I suggested, walking over to him with a full glass of orange juice.

  “Oh, I try to keep them happy. Right now, though, my focus is you.” He drank down his glass as I sipped at mine. When I put the glass down he pulled me to him.

  I set my glass down and laughed as he pulled me down to straddle his thighs. Naked in my kitchen we kissed once more, our mouths expressing the things we still weren’t willing to say.

  “Show me your bedroom, Bethany. I hope you’ve replaced the black curtains though, those were atrocious!” He smiled up into my eyes as I sat straddled over him, my hair falling into his face.

  “Oh yeah, I’ve replaced the black with pink and satin. And lots of frilly ribbons and pillows!” I let my eyes widen innocently and without guile.

  “Ah.” His eyes widened and I saw he was trying to hold back a cringe.

  “Come on, big boy. Let me show you my princess palace!” I pulled him along, trying not to laugh.

  I pushed the door open to reveal a room of dark browns and white, a reflection of my minimalist taste. When you’re as busy as I am anything that causes clutter and wastes time has to go. A large bed was my only true luxury and my room was more office than bedroom. In one corner I had a desk and chair with a television on a wall mount, an armoire, and a closet.

  “Not so bad, after all, I hope?” I asked as I turned to him.

  “I like your style, I really do.” He pulled me to him and started to back me towards the bed. “But I like you better than I like the room.”

  “Oh good, for a minute there I thought you only wanted me for my bedroom.” I laughed as we fell to the bed together.

  “Oh no, my dear, only you.” His lips murmured against mine and I soon forgot about teasing banter as we moved up the bed, our bodies entwining once more.

  Chapter Six

  Drake left early the next morning, after one more session, promising to come back at lunch time with food. He had to get the painters started for the day and a plumber was coming to start another renovation. I stretched in happiness then rolled back over and went to sleep.

  I was up around ten and had a shower before I called him. I danced into the bathroom and sang along to some of my favorite songs as the hot water of my shower eased some of my sore muscles. Even the aches in my body couldn’t dampen my smile today! In fact, I was kind of proud of those sore muscles, I knew why they hurt!

  By the time I finished I knew Drake would soon be coming over. Going into the bedroom I picked up my phone to see he’d texted me. A slight damper when I saw he was going to be late but I dialed his number with a smile anyway. He’d be over later.

  “Hello?” The phone rang for a few moments before it was finally answered. The snotty sounding female voice on the other end didn’t send out vibes of delight. She sounded peeved actually.

  “Oh sorry, I was trying to call Drake. I must have dialed the wrong number.”

  “Oh no, you got Drake, who are you?” The voice was snappish and mean sounding.

  “I’m Bethany. Who are you?” A cold sensation was starting to run through my veins as I wondered who this cow was.

  “I’m Drake’s fiancée and if you know what’s good for you lady, you won’t call back. I know who you are, that little waif from the hometown, am I right? You’re just a distraction, honey. I’m here now, don’t call back.” The cruel voice on the other end of the line had just ruined my day, maybe even my life. I didn’t bother with a reply, I just hung up.

  I wouldn’t let myself cry, I would not. I stamped down on the urge to throw my phone, to smash up my house, and to drive over and punch Drake in the nuts. That was it, that was his last chance! I’d known better, I’d let myself get close to him once more and got burned.

  “Oh, he’s changed.” I said out loud in an ugly voice. “He’s grown up. Give him a chance. Well, he can just…” I glared down at my phone as it began to ring. Drake.

  I blocked his number from my phone and went to find food. Grabbing my keys, I decided this was going to need beignets and lots of chocolate. Lots of it.

  “Bethany, what about this? Oh my, do you remember when we bought these?” Amelia held up two tshirts, both day-glo orange that lost their color when touched by a palm. The effect wasn’t so apparent now and one had a hole near the hem but we’d saved up for them and worn them every chance we got as teenagers.

  “Oh, we can’t get rid of those, surely. They’re part of history.” I took the shirts, holding them to my face. It had been two weeks since I’d made that phone call and I was dealing with it well. I’d stopped eating an entire chocolate cake a day anyway. Peter would be home next week and I’d have full days again, running him around, and my volunteering.

  Staying busy was distracting for me at this stage and so Amelia and I were up in my attic, going through old boxes to see what we could get rid of. I spotted the computer my father had insisted I take to college with me. Now a dinosaur, I didn’t even want to think about trying to carry the unit or the monitor downstairs. I expect there are quite a few hidden in attics just for that very reason; people just don’t want to carry them outside. Dad had bought it for me from a second-hand shop, proud that he was sending his girl off to college
with a computer, even if it was already all but obsolete. I’d spent more time in the library using theirs than in my dorm room using this one but I’d never tell him that.

  Sighing, I watched as Amelia stood, looking out of the small window.

  “The sun’s going down honey, I’d best get home.” She gave me a peck on the cheek and a hug, looking closely at me. “I really don’t know what’s going on with you but I wish you’d tell me.”

  I hadn’t told her about the date with Drake or how I’d found out about his fiancée. She hadn’t mentioned it either so I guess it was all being kept quiet or else she didn’t know. I hugged my friend and moved back, not wanting too much comfort or I might crack and start sobbing.

  “It’s just a midlife crisis or something. I’ll be fine, I promise.” I couldn’t talk to her about it, she’d encouraged me to go out with Drake, after all, had promised he’d changed. Obviously, she didn’t know about the other woman, or that I’d become the other woman. She didn’t know he was the same young boy we’d known so long ago.

  Amelia fin ally left me in peace and I made my way over to the one box I’d hidden from her. It had my diary in it, my notes, the pictures I’d surreptitiously taken, printed out, and slid into my pillow each night when we were all teenagers and living in the same home. I’d been such a sad little dork.

  I’d been even sadder thinking Drake might actually be interested in more than sex for the sake of sex, just like the last time. I put the box away and sat staring out of the window. I couldn’t go into the living room now but I’d had to force myself into my bedroom. Such sweet memories. I’d almost thought there was an emotional connection there, something being kindled and shared between us but one phone call had changed all of that.

  The woman had sounded like one of those expensive kinds, amazing how you could tell that just from her voice and the way she spoke but yeah, I was picturing fake nails, fake boobs, and probably a ton of makeup. A tiny little waist with a store-bought tan would complete the ensemble. No, wait, six-inch spiky heels and a tiny top would. Yep, that’s what I was picturing.