Balls: A Bad Boy Sports Romance (A Cruz Boys Novel Book 1) (15 page)

“I’m not telling you!”

“Are you kidding? Talk. We’re on a date. Sharing uncomfortable details is the whole point.”

She considered that and seemed to fall on the side of agreeing.

“I haven’t been with a man in that way since my ex-fiancé tried to destroy my life.”

“What does
that way
mean?”

 
“That way! Any way! I haven’t allowed anyone to get close.”

“Is that it? Alex, don’t get down on yourself. You were waiting is all.”

I grinned and tossed the sheaf of papers high into the air. A gust of wind caught them and whipped them higher still and out into the black void beyond.

“What are you doing?” she shouted.

“We don’t need that. We have each other. You can trust me. You can trust yourself.”

She went back to digging at her polish.

“That’s just it. I don’t think I can.”

“Why? I’m a nice guy.”

She looked up. “I’m talking about me. How I feel about you.” She dropped her head again. “I need a drink.”

She raised her wine glass to take a sip and I reached across the table to stop her before she could get a drop.

“Let’s have a proper toast first,” I said.

“Why? Is that the law?”

I raised my own glass and clinked the fine crystal together.

“We are in international waters, not governed by any nation. Technically, the law is whatever I say it is.”

I did my best not to stare at the beautiful mounds of flesh spilling out of the top of her dress.

My best was shit.

My eyes were glued to those globes like a compass to magnetic North.

“Fuck, you’re hot,” I said. “I’ve got a boner like you wouldn’t believe.”

She blushed. Her tender sense of innocence made my cock spring back to life.

“That was quite a toast. Did you go to school for that?”

“That was me being honest. As for a toast, here goes…”

Dammit. I couldn’t think of a single thing to say, aside from what I’d already said. And I could’ve said that a thousand different ways.

So I did.

“To you, Alex. The only woman I’ve ever met that blows my mind without even blowing my cock.”

She rolled her eyes and giggled. “Either you’re starting to rub off on me or I’m discovering a dirtier side of me than I thought existed.”

I took a big drink and savored the deep fruit and nut flavor of whatever Dante had chosen for us.

But I didn’t care about the wine anymore. There was one thing that I cared about, and it was sitting across the table.

Sitting across the table looking utterly stunning. Fuckable to the max.
 

Then the toast hit me. The real toast. The one that was meant for us.

She sipped from her glass and held the wine in her mouth, savoring the flavor.

I wanted my cum in its place.

I raised my glass again as she swallowed.

“Another toast?” she asked. “Is this gonna go on all night long?”

“I’ve got other plans for the rest of the night.”

She batted her lashes and my blood pressure went through the roof, or into the sky above as there wasn’t any roof.

I reached across the table and placed my hand over hers. Her delicate soft skin was a perfect counterpoint to the rough hide of my own. I rolled her hand over and faced her palm up to mine.

“To our baby. And more importantly, to how we’re gonna make that sucker.”

She jerked her head to the side and coughed and gagged and laughed all at the same time. Wine and tears threatened to drip down onto those luscious tits.

I passed over a napkin and helped her recover.

“No more toasts,” she said. “I’d like to drink my wine tonight.”

She settled down and pulled it together enough to take another sip.

“Alex, I don’t want to scare you, but I’m gonna fuck a baby into you tonight. I’m gonna make you come on my tongue, on my fingers, and on my cock.”

Another coughing, gagging spell hit her right in the chest. After she recovered, she pushed the wine glass toward the center of the table.

“New rule: you can’t say anything when I’m having a drink.”

“No problem,” I said. I picked up her plate and piled it high with the various delicacies spread around the table. “Eat up. You’ll need your strength.”

“Has anyone ever told you you’re a little too forward?”

I laughed. “Who hasn’t told me that? Besides, that’s my job. I get into the play and take over. I push it forward, overcoming any defense in my way, and then I score.”

She took a bite and chewed on whatever it was she’d chosen.

I wasn’t hungry at all, not for food anyway.

She swallowed and jabbed her fork into another bite. “Does your game plan always work out?”

“Every time.”

She arched her brow at me, like she caught me in a bear trap. “So then what happened at the World Cup final four years ago?”

Phantom pain flared in my knee. A psychic memory of the injury I’d endured at the hands of Bastian Kramer. That Kraut bastard.

“Are you trying to ruin our evening together?”

“Not at all, Mr. Cruz. I was simply trying to determine whether you control the universe or not.”

“What happened four years ago was a mistake. It will be avenged at the upcoming Cup.”

My jaws clenched together and I cast a hard stare at her, harder than I meant to.

“I know you will,” she said. “And I can’t wait to be there to cheer you on.”

And like that, all the building tension in my chest melted away. She had a healer’s touch.

And I was sick for her.

“Ms. Young, are you fantasizing about some future date that I have yet to agree to?”

“Fantasizing? I’m generously offering you reassurance that we may see each other again, despite your atrocious ability at giving a proper toast.”

It was my turn to choke wine into my lungs. I coughed and rattled and finally cleared my throat.

“At what age did you realize you are hilarious?” I asked.

She looked up and pretended to calculate vast sums in her head.

“So I’m twenty-four now . . . I do remember telling that one joke about the chicken and the road around the age of six …”

She turned back to me. “I’d say just now.”

I nodded. “Then let tonight be a night of firsts.”

“Hey Romeo, my eyes are up here.”

I hadn’t even realized my gaze had dropped. Again. Was I embarrassed?
 

No.

With extreme effort, I lifted my focus above the two ripe melons that, as far as I was concerned, were begging to be eaten. I took a bite of my food and gave her a bit of silence to eat some of her own. I wasn’t kidding about her needing it. Serious fucking required calories and we were gonna burn through a ton tonight.

I didn’t watch what I was eating. It was a mechanical motion of fork to plate and fork to mouth. I chewed and swallowed something that would make a three-star Michelin restaurant green with envy and yet didn’t taste a bite.

It was like my mind had tunnel vision and Alex was the oncoming train.

I looked up into the night sky and wondered at the dark velvet splashed with pinpoints of diamond light. It was seriously beautiful out here.

And Alex made it all dim as rusted silver.

She stared at the heavens above, like an angel ready to ascend.

“There’s so many,” she said in a whisper. “I’ve never seen so many.”

“That’s because there are no lights out here,” I said. “No lights but one.”

She hooked her thumb over her shoulder.

“You talking about the porch light over there?”

She snorted out a giggle before she finished delivering the joke.

“Could you be any cuter?” I asked.

She narrowed her eyes at me and twisted her mouth up. “Are you saying I need to be?”

“I’m saying you couldn’t possibly be. I’m saying the pitch of your voice makes my cock harder than steel. I’m saying the curves of your breasts make me want to jump over this table and attack you.”

She leaned forward and squeezed her tits together, no doubt enjoying the effect they had on me.

My breath came out ragged and my pulse jumped.

“Should I be frightened?” she asked.

A crooked grin swept across my face.

“You should be terrified.”
 

Alexis

He was right. I was terrified. I was scared of the clawing need deep in my belly. My heart pounded in my chest. The damp heat between my thighs screamed like a siren that I was in over my head.

What did I expect?

He was The Freaking Lion of Spain. If ever there existed an Olympian God descended to earth, he was sitting across from me. My magnetic attraction to him shouldn’t have been a shock, but it was.

He wasn’t what I expected. Not a robot driven by the joystick between his legs, not completely anyway. He had feelings. He had tenderness. He had heartache. He’d survived a past I couldn’t imagine.

Candles flickering on the table cast a wavering light and shadow over his stormy blue-gray eyes. The hard line of his jaw flexed as he licked his lips. His beefy arms bulged inside the sleeves of his button-up shirt.

He was a man born to run around in a loincloth like the gladiators of Rome. Sure, he looked sexy as hell in the navy blue suit and tie, but it wasn’t a natural match.

Besides, all those clothes hid those gorgeous muscles. His body deserved to be in an arena battling a lion in front of a raucous crowd. He’d swing his sword under the sun and the muscles in his chest and back would ripple with easy effort.

Hot tingling sparks ignited in my core and spread like a heating pad over my skin.

I loved heating pads.

Loved.

This was ten times better.

While his natural place was in front of a crowd, I wanted him for myself. I wanted those muscles on top of me, conquering me.

My insides squirmed at the thought of being impaled on his mighty sword.
 

In those arms, I could die the happiest girl in the world.

“Alex, you in there?”

I snapped out of my hypnotic—and frankly embarrassing—adoration and awoke to a conscious version of the same.

Dammit.

He was so totally gorgeous
.

“Can I tell you something?” I asked.

Oh no. Stop talking.

“You can tell me anything.”

He was right. Talking with him felt so real, so easy. I could say anything in my heart or mind. I never had that freedom with Robert. Every time I opened up, he made me feel like I was imposing on him. Like I’d invaded his personal space. Or worse, that it was a chore he had to endure.

Leo was different. I wanted to share everything with him.

Everything.

I felt my mouth moving before I could send an abort-mission signal.

“You’re pretty hot,” I said.

He grinned.

A rush of blood blossomed in my face and chest.

What an idiot thing to say!

 
The Lion of Spain didn’t need a no-name wannabe reporter affirming what he’d already heard a million times before.

I scratched at the baby blue polish on my thumbnail. I dipped into rent money to spring for a mani-pedi and I still couldn’t keep from picking at it.

But it was better than looking in those eyes.
 

He reached across the table and raised my chin as gently as a shepherd might touch a startled lamb.

Our eyes connected and I almost melted into a pool of warm goo. Everywhere, I mean.
 

“Sorry, never mind,” I said. “You’ve heard it a billion times.”

A million was probably low-balling it.

He touched a finger to my lips and returned it to his with a kiss.

“I’ve never heard it said like that.”

“What do you mean? I didn’t use fancy words. It wasn’t like I said you’re resplendent.”

“The words don’t matter. The one speaking them does. You, Alex.”

My heart palpitated in my chest. I was forty years on the young side for heart pills, but it seemed like a prudent precaution.

My toes tingled so intensely I thought they would blow my sandals off, which would’ve been a disaster as I borrowed them from Megan.

“Anyway, thanks for inviting me on this date.”

Really?

I was smooth like shattered glass. It would’ve been infinitely better to sit there and hope he thought I was pretty.

He reached across the table and grasped my trembling hand.

“What are you afraid of, Alex?”

My belly rolled like a loop-to-loop roller coaster. My palms sweat like a pig in the sun.

Of course, I was scared shitless. I wasn’t afraid of him. I was afraid of me. Something inside at a deep animal level demanded I give myself completely to this man.
 

That I lose myself in him.

The last time I’d come remotely close to that level of surrender, I’d ended up roadkill. I didn’t know if my heart was ready for another stroll along the highway.

“Tell me,” he said. His voice was so certain and commanding, my mouth obeyed like his words were my will.

“I’m afraid of you,” I said. “Of what you might do to me.”

He came around the table next to me. With as little effort as the sea pushes a grain of sand, he pulled me to my feet and crushed me into his hard chest.

“You scare me too,” he said. “Trust me when I say I’ve never said that to anyone.”

I rested my cheek against his chest and soaked in the reassuring warmth. The unspoken promise that if I opened myself completely, I wouldn’t end up smashed into a thousand jagged pieces.

We stood there, arm in arm, swaying to the soft rhythm of some classical music emanating from invisible speakers. I was acutely aware of the hardness pressing into my belly.

Leo turned my head up and touched the softest feather kiss to my lips. His breath swept into my mouth, becoming one with my own.

The hard pull of gravity between our bodies threatened to throw the earth out of orbit.
 

I floated in the trembling expanse.

And then he crushed his lips into mine. His tongue ventured into my mouth and claimed me. His hands slid down my ribs and hips and anchored on my bottom, pulling me tighter to him.