BULL: A Secret Baby Sports Romance (5 page)

T
his wasn’t
the Bull I thought I knew.

He was still cocky and dirty and an asshole, but there was that other level to him. Ryan had mentioned it, and now I felt like I was finally seeing it.

Bull gave money to charity, and he seemed to have some sort of code of honor, although it seemed totally barbaric.

And he was such a good kisser. Amazing chills went down my spine as Bull kissed me. I couldn’t stop myself from wrapping my arms around his neck and running my fingers through his thick hair as I kissed him back, our lips moving together, our tongues rolling into each other’s mouths.

I couldn’t believe what was happening. I was in the most secluded spot imaginable with Bull, and I was actually learning things about him. I’d had no clue about his father’s gambling debts; that was something completely new that I didn’t think anyone was aware of.

I wanted to think more about my article, but I found myself getting lost in Bull’s kiss. Some small part of me wanted to pull back, knew I should cut if off before it went too far, but I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t bring myself to stop when all I wanted was more.

He began to kiss my neck, and I heard myself let out a soft moan.

“I want that pussy right here, right above the city,” he whispered in my ear.

“Bull,” I gasped. I felt his hands slowly push my dress up along my hips. “I can’t sleep with you.”

“Who said anything about fucking?” he asked. His fingers found my soaking pussy, and part of me wished I weren’t so damn wet. Now he knew what I really wanted.

“Then what?”

“I want to taste that pussy.”

“Bull!” I gasped as his fingers deftly pulled my panties down. I stared at him as he grinned at me and then kissed me again, pressing me down onto the blanket.

His hands were shockingly skilled and gentle as his slowly found my soaking pussy. He rolled my clit with his thumb, making me squirm with pleasure, before he pressed his fingers deep inside me.

I gasped. His hands and fingers were big, like everything else on him. He pressed them deep and slowly fucked me like that with his fingers, and I kissed him feverishly.

“Shit,” I gasped as he pulled back, kissing my neck again. “Oh shit, Bull. I shouldn’t do it.”

“Tell me to stop,” he said, “otherwise I’m taking what I want.”

I moaned as he kissed down my throat, lingering on my exposed chest before slowly sliding down me.

He spread my legs open wide, and I felt so damn exposed. The city was spread out next to us as he admired my soaking pussy, a wicked grin on his face.

“What?” I asked.

“You’re just so fucking gorgeous,” he said. “I want to get a look at this dripping pussy before I suck that clit until you scream.”

“Bull!” I moaned, and he slid his fingers inside me. I gasped as he slowly lowered his mouth against my clit.

Explosive pleasure rocked my body as he began to suck and lick my clit, his fingers slowly sliding in and out of me. I couldn’t believe Bull Dixon’s mouth was slowly licking my soaking clit as his fingers worked my tight pussy, but I wasn’t going to stop it.

I was too far gone. I knew he had me exactly where he wanted me, and that thought made me so angry, but that anger only made it that much hotter as he worked my clit and fucked my pussy with his fingers.

He spread me wide, working me, and I couldn’t help but reach down and press his mouth against my pussy as pleasure rocked through my body. I’d never experienced this before, never had a man go down on my pussy like this before, but he was incredible. He sucked and licked me like he was starving for my pussy.

He moved back, his fingers continuing to fuck me deep. “Oh fuck, Bull,” I moaned. “Oh my god.”

“You taste fucking delicious,” he said. “This tight little pussy is incredible. Fuck, girl, I’m so fucking hard, but sucking your clit and making you moan is exactly what I needed.”

I gasped as he went back at it, working my pussy, rubbing my clit. His free hand spread my legs even wider, and I felt so exposed out in the middle of nowhere as Bull licked my pussy, his thick fingers sliding in and out of my pussy.

I grasped his hair and began to work my hips, pressing his mouth against me harder. I could see the city to my right spread out in front of me, but all I wanted to look at was Bull’s mouth as he worked my little clit. I could feel pleasure rocketing through my core, riding up and down my spine, rolling through my body.

I pressed his mouth harder against me, working my hips, and he responded by fucking my pussy faster with his fingers. We both knew I was close, and he was working me faster, harder, trying to get me there. I could barely hold back, barely contain myself.

Slowly, the orgasm rolled over me. I lost whatever control I had left as my body slowly twitched with pleasure, the orgasm exploding through me, rolling through my body. He grinned up at me as he kept fucking my pussy with his fingers, encouraging my orgasm with his mouth and tongue.

As slowly as it started, it ebbed and finished. I lay back, gasping, as he grinned at me, licking me off his fingers.

“Fuck,” I groaned. “I can’t believe I did that.”

He laughed. “You didn’t do shit. You just sat back and let me do all the work.”

“That’s what I mean. I can’t think straight right now.”

“Good,” he said. “That was what I wanted, just a fucking taste of you.”

“Shit, you got more than a taste.”

“You liked coming in my mouth?”

“Bull!”

“It’s just a question.”

I looked away, blushing. He handed me my panties and I slid them back on, though they were utterly useless.

He checked his watch. “We need to get back.”

“Already?”

“We’ve been out here for an hour.”

I blinked. “Are you serious?”

“Very serious. We need to catch the car before he leaves us stranded.” He began to put away our things, and I got up to help him.

I couldn’t believe how long we’d been out here. I doubted he’d been going down on me that whole time, but still. Time had simply melted past while I was with Bull, and I didn’t know what that meant. Maybe I was having a good time with him?

I definitely had been having a good time when his mouth was between my legs, but that didn’t count.

We took our things and headed back down the path. I followed closely behind Bull as he led the way with his flashlight.

I kept thinking about what we had done back there. I couldn’t believe I’d let him go down on me so quickly, but as soon as he kissed me, I knew I was completely screwed. I wasn’t going to back down, not when Bull Dixon was touching my body. I couldn’t say no, even though I knew I was playing such a dangerous game.

What if he figured out who I was? I couldn’t even begin to imagine that. He’d be so angry, and Bull was not the kind of man I wanted to piss off. But still, I wasn’t going to just stop seeing him, not now.

I was going to keep telling myself that this was about the story, but maybe it was about something else. Maybe it was becoming about figuring this man out, and maybe it was about the way he could make my body feel.

Bull Dixon was going to give me his secrets, and then he was going to take more of what he wanted.

I
was drenched
in sweat as I started the next set. I lifted the barbells and got to work, lifting and grunting.

It was the summer off-season, but I never really took any time off. Being a pro player was a year-round job, even if I only played for part of the year. Truth was, I needed to keep my body in shape. I couldn’t afford to let myself slip even a little bit.

I was twenty-eight years old, and that was fucking ancient for the NFL. My position in particular was rough on a man’s body, and most guys retired in their early thirties. That meant I only had a few good years left, at best, and if I wanted to remain on top, I had to push myself. When I was younger, I could get away with working out less, but as my body aged, I found that I needed to push harder and harder.

I didn’t mind that so much. I liked working hard, liked putting in the time. There was something so satisfying about a good workout, especially when you’d left everything in the gym.

It was almost as good as sex. Almost. Nothing could come close to the way I’d felt sucking on Charley’s delicious little clit as she moaned my name over and over.

I finished my set and put the weights down, smiling to myself. I kept thinking about her, again and again. She seemed so nervous, so embarrassed, and so scared, which only made me want her that much more. It was like she was afraid of me or some shit, and I couldn’t exactly figure out why.

But she wasn’t that afraid. She wasn’t exactly running away from me, not when I was pulling her panties down over her beautiful thighs and putting my tongue between her legs. She stayed nice and still for that, right up until she was going to come. I could see the wildness in her, practically taste it dripping off her pussy.

I liked wild. That shit got my cock hard. I could have pushed that night and maybe felt what it was like to sink my thick cock between her legs, but I didn’t want to rush things. She seemed hesitant, and that was fine with me. I’d gotten what I wanted when she came all over my mouth.

“You look distracted.”

I looked over at Calvin and grinned. “Why do you say that?”

“You’re not fucking admiring yourself in the mirror like always.”

I laughed. “You cocky shit. I could crush you. You know that?”

“Of course I know that, but I’m the quarterback. You can’t touch me.”

I laughed with Calvin and lifted up my weights. “All right, no more fucking around.”

“Got it.”

I went back to work. Calvin Cross was the quarterback of the Chicago Bears, and although he didn’t play on the same side of the ball, he was my closest friend. Calvin was just a down-home good guy, a southern boy from South Carolina. He had those good manners and a winning smile that the PR team fucking loved.

He was the golden boy of the NFL. He had a squeaky clean reputation, and the PR firm worked hard to keep it that way. I knew Calvin liked to party as much as any other guy, but he was a good man at heart.

Which made our friendship that much stranger. He was the good guy, the golden boy, and I was the bad boy. We weren’t supposed to be friendly, let alone close, but that didn’t matter.

Like I kept telling Charley, the media liked their stories better than they liked the truth.

We finished the next set. Calvin was breathing deeply, shaking his head. “Man, I don’t know how you do it.”

“Do what?”

“Work this hard. Fuck, man, you’re two years older than me and you’re kicking my ass.”

“I’m also bigger and stronger; don’t forget that.”

“Yeah, whatever, man.”

“Come on. It may be the off-season, but if you want to keep that fucking job of yours, we better keep at it.”

“Shit, man.” Calvin gave me his nice, perfect grin. “Nobody’s taking my spot. Did you read about the contract they offered me?”

“I read about it. That shit was all over the news.”

“I heard you did okay yourself.”

I grinned. “They offered me a few dollars, sure.”

Calvin had one of the biggest contracts in the whole league. Mine was a bit smaller, but still easily in the top ten. The coaching staff did not want to lose the two of us. That was for sure.

I didn’t blame them. Calvin and I had taken the Bears to the playoffs last year, both of us posting some career-high numbers. It was like we were unstoppable, but last year was last year. Now we had to post those numbers again, or even better ones.

We finished our next set, and it was time for a break. Calvin sat down on the bench and I took a long drink of water.

“Listen, man,” he said. “There’s a party at M.O.’s place tonight. You down?”

I frowned at him. “You’re going to that guy’s spot?”

“Yeah, brother. He throws some fucking sick parties.”

“Maybe. Mine are better.”

“Of course they are. But are you throwing something tonight?”

“Nah, man.”

“Then let’s go to his place.”

“Can’t,” I said, looking away.

“What do you mean you can’t? Shit, Bull, I don’t think I’ve ever heard you turn down a party.”

Calvin had a point. Why was I saying no? It wasn’t like I had any plans for the night.

But I knew what that party would be like. More drugs, more women. The same fucking party I’d been to a hundred different times, just in a new location. The same people would be there, and the same girls, or at least they all started to look alike after a while.

Truth was, though, I just kept thinking about Charley. The real reason I didn’t feel like going to that party was because she wasn’t going to be there, and that freaked me the fuck out.

Since when did I give a shit if some girl was going to be at a party? That wasn’t my fucking style, and yet I couldn’t really deny it to myself.

At least I could deny it to Calvin.

“First time for everything,” I said.

“You feeling okay?”

I laughed, nodding. “I feel fucking fine.” I hoisted up a weight. “You ready?”

“No,” he said, standing up, “but let’s work this out anyway.”

We got back to it, working hard, lifting and doing some short sprints on the indoor track. When we were finally finished with the workout, we went into the locker room to shower off.

On the way out of the building, Calvin stopped and checked his phone. “Shit, man, it’s already three. You sure you don’t want to come tonight?”

“I’m good,” I said. “I’ll catch you tomorrow.”

“All right, Bull. Be good then.”

“Later.”

He headed off, and I watched him go, annoyed with myself for skipping this party for no good fucking reason. I couldn’t go soft, not over some random girl.

Just as I started walking to my car, my phone started to ring. I pulled it out of my pocket and frowned at the number before answering.

“Hello?”

“Bull,” Rafa said. “How are you?”

“I was good until you called.”

He laughed, though he didn’t sound like he thought it was funny. “Listen, I’m calling about the other night.”

“Why else would you call?”

I hated getting messages from the mob like this, but I didn’t have any other choice. My damn life was so intertwined with their organization that I didn’t know where I started and where they stopped anymore.

That was all thanks to my father. When the old man died, my mom and I found out that the old piece of shit owed a lot of money to the mafia. When they came collecting, my mother couldn’t pay them back, so I took over my father’s debt and paid them back bit by bit over the years. My last payment came the day after I got my first NFL check in the mail. That should have been the end of it, but of course it wasn’t.

They had done me other favors over the years. They erased some bad things I’d done in my younger years, such as spending some time in jail for fighting and shit like that. They also erased my dad from the media so that he wouldn’t become a public part of my story. My mom never gave interviews, and we barely spoke to each other, which was perfect for me. Between her and the mob, the media didn’t know shit about the real Bull Dixon.

But I was still deep in with the mob. I didn’t owe them money, but we had an understanding. If they wanted to destroy me, they could easily do it at any moment. And so I gave them my business, bought their whores and took my rich friends to their casinos and shit like that. Sometimes they did me other favors, and I always made sure to pay in cash for that.

But they had me, all because of my fucking old man.

“Look, I just wanted to say that things seem good. There shouldn’t be any blowback from it.”

“Good,” I grunted. “Glad to hear it.”

“There’s just one thing.”

I paused, suddenly nervous. “What?”

“About that girl you mentioned. Did you know she’s a journalist?”

I stared at the ground, surprised. Charley hadn’t mentioned that to me. When I’d asked about her job on the way home after the cliff, she gave me some vague answer about being a writer, but she didn’t go on.

“I did,” I told him, not sure why.

“Good. So you know she’s some low-level writer for NSPN.”

“I knew,” I said. “She’s cool.”

There was a pause on his end. “Okay,” he said finally. “Then we’re all good, Bull.”

“Tell your bosses I said thanks. Tickets will be in the mail for this year.”

“That’s always appreciated.”

Rafa hung up, and I slipped my phone back into my pocket.

Charley was a fucking sports journalist. I couldn’t believe I had been so fucking stupid enough to let her into my life. I didn’t know a thing about the girl, and yet I’d told her some intimate details.

Nothing bad had happened about that just yet, but she had seen some things she definitely shouldn’t have. She knew about my father, and she likely knew about the mafia, or at least she’d heard rumors about it at my apartment.

I shook my head, conflicted and fucking angry. Charley was a sports journalist. Charley was the fucking enemy.

I’d spent my whole career, really my whole life, avoiding journalists like her. They were vultures that destroyed careers, and everyone fucking knew it. I’d worked hard to keep my bad past out of the press, and I worked hard not to let those bastards get to know the real me. Oh, they got the villain they so desperately wanted, but they didn’t really know shit.

I felt fucking betrayed. I didn’t know what I was going to do, but I couldn’t just let this thing go.

I’d handle it myself. I’d lied to Rafa because I knew he’d do something to Charley, maybe scare her or some shit like that, if they found out I hadn’t known about the journalism thing. The girl had misled me, but I wasn’t about to throw her to the fucking mob because of it.

I began walking toward my car, my head spinning, trying to come up with a plan.