Dirty Baller: A Secret Baby Sports Romance (6 page)

The door to the locker room opens. “Just a fucking minute,” I say without turning around. I know that it’s Terence coming to see my reaction. I can almost feel his asshole presence in this room without looking. Or it’s Ivan asking me what’s taking so fucking long.

I hear a little yelp. A feminine yelp.

It’s not Terence. It’s not Ivan.

It’s Hayley.

We lock eyes and I see hers travel immediately down to the lower half of my body. Just seeing her makes my cock wake up. I almost reach for my towel but decide making her uncomfortable is worth the mild embarrassment of her seeing my erection.

“What?” I ask her.

“Um, Ivan told me to come down and look for you. He really needs to see you upstairs,” she says, averting her eyes and staring up at the ceiling.

I put my hands on my hips. “Alright. Just give me a minute, because someone stole all of my clothes.”

Hayley lets out a laugh and claps her hand over her mouth. “Sorry,” she says. “That’s a terrible prank.”

“You think it’s funny, though.” I stare at her intently and see her start to melt. She grips her notebook and pen closer to her ample chest. I’m overcome with the desire to fuck her right on the locker room benches. Then I break into laughter with her. “It actually is pretty fucking funny.”

We laugh together for a good minute and a half. I pick up my towel and wrap it around my waist. “Let me find some old uniforms around here. Go tell Ivan I’ll be there in a minute.”

Hayley leaves and I chastise myself for being so attracted to her. I have to remind myself of last night. I showed too much of myself to her. I can’t do that again.

I find an old uniform that’s only a size too big and pull it on. It smells a little musty but it’ll work well enough to get me back to the hotel. I run up the rickety wooden steps to the clubhouse. Ivan is there smoking next to Hayley, who is jotting down notes in her book.

Ivan isn’t speaking, so I assume she’s just brainstorming random thoughts for her article.

“I’m here,” I say to Ivan.

He eyes my clothes with amusement. “Terence take your kit?”

I nod. “Yeah. Funny prank.”

“At least he didn’t fill your bra with whipped cream,” Ivan quips. He laughs at his own joke and Hayley and I exchange glances. She doesn’t appear to be amused either. “Alright. I wanted to talk to you. As much as your little escapades up north diverted attention from the team, I think we can use that to our advantage.” He looks at Hayley. “You’ll interview him primarily. Mackenzie will be your primary contact here, alright?” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a few twenty pound notes. “Take her out to dinner. Get to know him,” he says to Hayley.

She opens her mouth to protest but I beat her to it.

“I think she should be interviewing people on the team who are a bit more senior, shouldn’t she?” I ask. “I also don’t really think the piece should be focusing on my history. I’m trying to start over here.”

Ivan shakes his head and taps a bit of ash off the end of his cigarette. I see that his fingernails are stained with nicotine. It reminds me of my father and I’m overcome with a fresh wave of anger. I grip the underside of the table to calm down.

“You misunderstand me,” Ivan says. “I only meant that you have the right face for the press. We could get a lot of good attention off of this piece if Ms. Childs focuses on you as the new face of Hounslow. I don’t want a load of gossip or fodder for the tabloids. I just think you have charisma and could add a bit of flavor to Ms. Childs’ piece. Got it?”

I nod briefly, appeased slightly by the fact that my new manager isn’t asking me to spill my intimate secrets to a journalist. “I think I can do that. Just talk about football, then?”

Hayley has said nothing until now. “I think that’s reasonable.” She closes her notebook. “I’m free tonight.”

There’s hope in her eyes that I know has nothing to do with writing this article. She thinks that I’m interested in her. She
hopes
that I am.

And I am.

But I don’t want her to know that.

“I’m busy tonight,” I say.

Ivan extinguishes his cigarette and holds up his hands in surrender. “You work out the details. I’ve got better things to do than sit here and arrange social calendars.”

He leaves the two of us alone.

“You’re busy tonight? With what?” Hayley asks more challengingly than I’ve ever heard her speak.

“Flat hunting, not that it’s any of your business,” I say to her.

She puts her notebook into her large leather handbag. “Then I can come with you. We can skip dinner and you won’t have to spend two hours looking at me.” She snaps the bag shut. “You know where I am. I’ll see you in a bit. Just knock.”

Great.

Nothing says
not intimate
like the woman I want to fuck coming with me to go flat-hunting.

Looks like my plan is falling to pieces with every passing moment.

CHAPTER NINE

HAYLEY

I know that Ryan doesn’t want me to come along.

And that works fine for me.

We shouldn’t be romantically involved. It’s wrong. I have a story to write. An unbiased portrait of a football team. That’s it.

Then why do I spend an hour showering, shaving all of my private areas and legs, applying makeup, and blow-drying my hair so it’s shiny, straight, and hanging around my shoulders?

Because I like him.

That’s why.

It seems like the more I try to be professional and squash down the animalistic desires he draws out of me, the more I’m attracted to him.

But flat hunting should be easy. It’s public enough that we won’t succumb to temptation and I won’t ruin my journalistic reputation in the process.

I can’t fuck a subject of my article. I just can’t do it.

But you already did
, says my conscience.

I shake my head and reapply another layer of lip gloss.

If I didn’t want him to fuck me, I probably shouldn’t have dressed like this.

I actually ran into Topshop earlier and bought a new blouse. It’s low-cut and billowy. A good breeze would probably end in me flashing everyone on the street.

I tell myself that I don’t want that to happen.

But then I think about Ryan’s body. His tattoos. His muscles. The way his green eyes sparkle. That head of sandy-blonde hair. His huge…

Knock knock knock!

I gulp. “Coming!” I call out. I try not to think about the double meaning in that exclamation. I
want
to be coming. With Ryan’s face between my legs. I take a deep breath and open the door.

Oh boy.

Ryan’s come to play.

He’s wearing a fitted black t-shirt and jeans that I can already tell make his ass look incredible. I see his breath catch in his chest as he eyes me up and down.

I’m satisfied that he still wants me. He can tell himself that he doesn’t, but I can see it in his eyes.

“You…look nice,” he says slowly.

“Thanks. So do you.”

We stand there awkwardly for a minute. I hitch my purse up higher on my shoulder. “I’m ready if you are,” Ryan says.

“Great,” I reply.

We ride the elevator downstairs in a cloud of silence that continues all the way down to the Tube station, through four Tube stops, a line change, and back up and out onto the street in what looks like a quiet residential neighborhood.

Mothers and fathers holding the chubby hands of their little kids pass us by.

“This is a nice neighborhood,” I say out loud.

Ryan nods. “I think it’ll be quiet.”

I see an opening into a question. “Do you think the team is going to be good for your own fresh start?”

Ryan looks at me. “No questions about my past, alright?”

“I didn’t mean-“

“I know what you meant. You’re bringing up my past by implying this is a fresh start. Ask me something else.”

“Sorry,” I reply, keeping my head down as we walk up to a building with a lockbox on the doorknob.

“My agent told me the passcode,” he says, punching in a series of numbers. The box clicks open and a metal key appears in Ryan’s palm. He unlocks the door and holds it open for me. “Ladies first.”

I slide past him and brush against his stomach. I shiver involuntarily.

I step inside the hallway. Shiny wooden floors gleam up at me. There’s crown molding along the ceiling and a narrow staircase. The flat is bright considering it’s a cloudy evening.

“This isn’t a flat. This is a
house
,” I say to him.

He shrugs. “Yeah, well. I did alright up north.”

I see dollar signs everywhere I look. I pad after Ryan. I want to ask him how many pounds a place like this costs to rent per month, but I hold back.

“Do you like the atmosphere of the Hounslow team?”

Ryan runs his hands along the chair rail in the dining room. “I do,” he says. “The guys are mostly all nice. Except Terence, and you’re free to call him a wanker in your piece, because he
is
a wanker. They’re all focused on winning and training. That’s as much as I can hope for, I think.”

I scribble down his quotes as we walk into the kitchen. Shiny, stainless steel appliances line the walls along with mahogany cabinets that reflect the recessed lighting. The countertops are dark granite.

Ryan spins around suddenly and I nearly smack into him.

“I have an idea,” he says. “I think we should go by the rules we had the other night.”

I swallow hard, his chest inches from mine.

“What rules?” I flash to his face between my legs again.

“The rules of you asking one question and me asking one question,” he says. His green eyes bore into mine.

“That sounds fine,” I say, my voice cracking. I can smell his cologne and it’s making me go weak at the knees.

“You asked me two questions. Now
I
get two questions,” he says.

Can he hear my heart beating? He must be able to hear my heart beating.
I
can hear my heart beating, and I’m only inches away from him.

“Okay,” I reply.

He leans forward. “Do you want me right now?”

I blink at him. “Excuse me?”

He brushes a strand of hair off my forehead and behind my ear. I tremble as he touches me. “Do you want me right now?”

I shake my head a second too late. “No.” I know this is a lie. He answered my questions honestly. It’s only right that I answer
his
honestly. “Yes,” I breathe towards him, correcting my answer.

He grins at me. “Second question. Have you ever fucked in a stranger’s house?”

I’m saved from answering by Ryan’s mouth pressed against mine and his hands on my ass. He lifts me up onto the gleaming countertops and moves his hands over my chest, unhooking my bra and lifting my shirt over my head. I’m topless, on a cold marble countertop, in a stranger’s house with the hottest guy I’ve ever seen.

He kisses my neck and breathes into my ear as he nibbles at it. “I’ve been wanting to fuck you since you opened your hotel door,” he says. “You’re my kryptonite.”

His mouth finds mine again and our tongues twist together. I feel an urging between my thighs. I want him inside of me.

My fingers fumble at the button on his jeans, and I only just manage to unzip his pants as his mouth closes around one of my nipples. I feel a surge of electricity connecting my tits to my pussy and I call out in pleasure.

Ryan stumbles out of his jeans and pulls down his boxers. He gets my pants off of my body and I wrap my legs around him.

“Do you have a condom?” I ask him.

“Are you on birth control?” he replies.

“Yes,” I say. I have a fleeting thought that I might have missed a pill due to the time zone difference, but I’m so wet for him I don’t care.

All I want is him, inside of me, filling me up.

“Good,” he breathes, kissing me fully and slipping inside of me.

Feeling his hard, long cock unsheathed is more than I can take.

Three thrusts and I’m done, his hands in my hair and both of us coming at the same time.

CHAPTER TEN

RYAN

“I like flat hunting,” I say to Hayley as we both get dressed.

She smiles at me, looking embarrassed. “We really shouldn’t have done that.”

I step closer to her and tip her face up towards mine. “And why not?” I kiss her rosebud lips again and I feel her shiver.

“Because…because…” Her words fade as my tongue finds hers. “This isn’t professional.”

I laugh. “You think I give two fucks about professional?”

She shakes her head. “Yesterday you couldn’t get away from me fast enough. Now you just jumped me in this random kitchen.”

I run my fingers through her hair. “You’re irresistible, Hayley Childs. I can’t help myself when I’m around you.”

And that’s the dead honest truth.

She sighs and pulls her pants back on. “So, are you getting this flat?”

I look around. “I think so.” I clap my hands together. “Dinner? Ivan’s paying, remember.”

An hour later, we’re ensconced in a booth at London’s hottest new burger restaurant.

Hayley’s eyes go wide while she looks at the menu. “This is so expensive. Thirty pounds for a
burger
?”

I take the menu from her and shut it. “Stop looking at prices and let me order. This place is the best in the city.”

She looks around at the bustling restaurant. The walls are painted black, and orange Edison bulb lights glow overhead. It’s packed to the gills with young people like us.

“I’m just happy we got a table,” I say. “I mean, I had to call in some favors to get it done, but whatever it takes, right?”

Hayley looks at me in awe. “You are hot and then cold and then hot again, Ryan. I just can’t understand you.”

I clear my throat. “Let’s just focus on right now. Us. Here.” I lean closer. “Ask me questions for your little story, Hayley.”

She blushes and fumbles in her purse for a pen and paper. “Tell me about how you started playing soccer. Sorry, I mean football.”

“My mum loved it. She bought me a ball when I was three years old. I used to kick it against the wall of our council house until she’d tell me to stop. I’ve been hooked ever since.”