Off the Field: Bad Boy Sports Romance
Read Off the Field: Bad Boy Sports Romance Online
Authors: Heidi Hunter,Bad Boy Team
Tags: #BWWM Interracial Romance
OFF THE FIELD
Bad Boy Sports Romance
This romance novella contains adult themes and sexual situations. The characters are all entirely fictional. Any resemblance to reality is coincidental.
Copyright © 2016 Heidi Hunter
All rights reserved.
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Dirty Fun Off the Field
Lance
Sweat poured down my bare chest, but I didn’t mind. Workouts always left me exhausted but with a high that’s really hard to describe to anyone who hasn’t played sports. I took a drink from my water bottle without stopping. Another few blocks, and I would be home. I was so happy to not be living in the dorms anymore. They were okay my freshman year, but I loved living off campus.
When I reached my house, I checked the mailbox on the porch, knowing my three roommates probably hadn’t checked it yet. They were okay, but I would have preferred to live on my own. Because my soccer scholarship didn’t cover all my expenses, I had to keep my expenses as low as possible. I only worked twelve hours each week, but it took a toll on me.
Most of the letters and postcards were junk mail – one roommate had signed up for one of those free credit card deals on the quad – but one of the envelopes caught my attention. It was a letter from the financial aid office. Red letters, big and bold, declared the contents as URGENT and needing my attention. I ripped it open before going inside.
After scanning the officially typed message, my heart sunk. Due to my grades in my physics class, I’d lost my scholarship. If I didn’t come up with three grand and some change, I would be kicked out of school. I read the letter a second time, hoping I’d read it wrong, but it said the same thing as the first time.
Fuck,
I though. I was so close to finally graduating.
For over two years, I’d been working my ass off playing soccer and trying to keep up with classes and work. Unlike a lot of the rich kids in college, I had to avoid the parties and any sense of social life. I went inside and tossed the rest of the mail on a table in the living room, keeping the financial aid letter in my hand. Without a second thought, I headed downstairs to the makeshift gym we had set up.
After putting the letter in my duffel bag, I went to the large, leather punching bag and went to town. The whole time I was pounding away, I thought about Laura, my stepsister. She had been born with a silver spoon in her mouth. Her money made her intolerable to be around most of the time. When I first started college, she’d offered to pay for everything. I had declined, not wanting to owe her.
The wealthy followed different rules. While I didn’t hate all rich people, most of them were assholes or spoiled bitches who’d never had to work a day in their lives. My mother was happy with Laura’s dad, but I tried to avoid the family as much as possible. College took all my time, attention and energy. All I wanted was to finish with an architecture degree and become an architect.
I moved from the bag and picked up a jump rope. As I flipped my wrists, hopping up and down, I admitted to myself that I would have to call her and ask for help. Swallowing my pride would be difficult, but I couldn’t throw away over two years of college. Hopefully, she wouldn’t make me beg for it. I had tried to be nice to her for many years, but she was always a bitch toward me.
Laura
As I chilled on the deck of my yacht, the Princess Bridal, somewhere on Lake Michigan, I sipped at my margarita. The boat floated toward the shore to dock. My phone was off so no one could disturb me. Everyone always wanted something from me. Because I had a little bit of money, even just a few million, people treated me differently. I hated it.
Once we reached the docks, I got off and walked to my car, letting the guys I paid to take care of the yacht handle everything. As soon as I turned my phone back on, a thousand notifications popped up. I scanned them quickly and saw Lance’s name. Intrigued, I opened the email. The message, as usual, was short and to the point. “Need help. Come over? Call me.”
I called up his address on my GPS once I was in my car. The Maserati was one of my prized possessions. Before I pulled out of the parking lot, I rang Lance’s number. As I waited for him to answer, memories of my stepbrother flashed through my mind. He was the opposite of me in many ways, but that was what attracted me to him.
Our parents would have gone ballistic if we’d ever hooked up, so I’d had to keep my urges and feelings to myself for many years. His muscular body was nice, but what I really liked, what turned me on the most, was his sense of honor. He had a nice sense of humor too. In many ways, he was a perfect man. I had dreamed of becoming sexually active with him many times – even just a kiss – but I’d resisted.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Lance. It’s me.”
“That was fast.”
“I just got the message. I’ve had my phone off all day.”
“Oh. I just sent it.”
“What’s up?” I asked. “Everything okay?”
“Not really. Can we talk in person? Where you at?”
“Down at the docks. I’m headed into the city, but I can swing by your house on my way home.”
“You have my address?”
“Of course, silly.”
“We can do it tomorrow if you want,” he said, as if he didn’t want me to come over.
Does he have a party going on tonight or something?
I wondered.
“I’d rather stop by tonight while I’m out if you don’t mind.”
“Okay. I’ll see you in about an hour?”
“Maybe sooner. Bye.”
I disconnected the call and put the car into gear. According to the GPS, he was about half an hour away. The radio was on, streaming G-Eazy. All I could think about was my dreamy stepbrother. After he had made it abundantly clear he didn’t want anything to do with me, I gave him his space. He worked super hard to pay for school, which I would never understand since I could have paid the tab for him.
Lance
As soon as I got off the phone with Laura, I rushed around the house, cleaning up a little here and a little there before the mess overwhelmed me. The other guys laughed and pointed, teasing me about a hot date coming over. When I told them it was my stepsister, they jumped up and helped. She was legendary on campus.
A few years older than me, she had finished college a few years earlier with an Art History degree or some shit. She had an opportunity to make something of herself, but she was against working for a living. I thought she would at least become an artist, but she hated the act of being creative. What she craved was the crazy lives of the creators, the artists.
“Why is she coming over?” Chad, one of my roommates, asked as we cleaned together in the kitchen.
“Ah, it’s nothing really,” I lied.
When it came to my personal business, I tended to not share with many people, especially my roommates. They were your typical jocks. I was into sports in a big way, but I liked to be well rounded. In addition to reading a lot of books, I took the time to learn as much as I could about architecture from around the world. I loved looking at pictures of buildings and could do it for hours.
“She’s hot,” Chad said after a few moments.
“Yeah, Chad, she is pretty hot. And smart too.”
“I’d fuck her brains out, brah,” he said then laughed and waved his fist in the air for some reason.
I nodded and made my way out of the kitchen and up to my sparsely decorated bedroom. It was already clean, but I wanted to make sure. Actually, I wanted to be alone. I doubted she would come up to my bedroom. She’d only been over to the house once – when we first moved in a year previously. I sat down at my desk and stared out the window.
While I watched a squirrel climb the tree in the front yard, I saw Mr. Jenkins, our landlord, coming up the walk.
Shit,
I thought.
Can this fucking day get any worse?
I rushed downstairs to try to deal with the situation in a sane matter. For some unknown reason, my roommates had decided to cut down a tree in the backyard. They hadn’t done it yet, but they’d threatened to do it more than once.
Mr. Jenkins, who wasn’t the nicest man in the world by any means, reacted badly when he heard from a tenant across the alley about the plan to cut the tree down. I just wanted the whole stupid mess to go away, but my roommates were adamant on their “right” to chop the tree down during a ceremonial party. It was all bullshit, of course, but the more they upset Mr. Jenkins the more fun it was for them.
When I made it downstairs, Chad, Barry, and Charles were all crowded near the front door talking, very loudly, at the same time. As I approached them, I heard Mr. Jenkin’s voice unleashing a fury of curses back at them, threatening to kick all of us out and to have us thrown in jail for a hate crime. We were all Americans and all white, so I wasn’t sure what the hell he was talking about, but I didn’t like it.
I glanced out the front window, hoping Laura didn’t show up in middle of the altercation. The last thing I needed was a lecture and derisive laughter from her. Not seeing her car anywhere, I headed to the front door to try to dial the situation down a few notches. Mr. Jenkins had made his way into the house and was looking around for something to complain about.
“I got this, guys,” I said, pushing two of them away. “Come with me, Mr. Jenkins.”
As I led him to the backyard, I thought about a million things I could tell him. Unfortunately, none of them would actually work to calm him down.
“This is good tree!” he exclaimed, pointing at the aging oak.
“I know, I know. There’s just been a big misunderstanding,” I said, putting my arm on his shoulder. “We’re just five guys trying to scrape by and get through college so we can have a better life. You get that, right?”
He sighed. “I do, but no cut my tree,” he reiterated in his thick Scottish accent.
“Can I show you something?” I asked, suddenly inspired.
“I guess.”
“Come back inside. It’s on my laptop.”
Once we were back in the house, I got out my laptop and showed him the plans for redoing the basement of the house we were living in for one of my classes. As soon as he was the 3D rendering of what it could look like with a lot of work, he got excited.
“And it will increase the value of the house considerably,” I said. “Even better, you can do it for under ten thousand dollars.”
“Ten thousand for that?” he asked, pointing at the screen.
I nodded with a smile, hoping none of my roommates came into the kitchen to disturb us.
“We don’t want to cut down the tree,” I said. “Not really. Let us build this basement for our small gatherings, and I bet I can get them to stop talking about cutting down the tree.”
He stroked his beard thoughtfully as he studied the laptop screen. “Okay,” he said finally. “We do it. But no cut my tree.”
After he left, I had a quick talk with the others, letting them know we’d be getting a brand new basement area if we gave up the idea of cutting the tree in the backyard. They agreed, of course. As they scattered through the house to start planning future parties, I headed to my room to wait for Laura. I fell asleep around midnight. She still hadn’t arrived.
Laura
On my way to see Lance, I made the mistake of parking in the wrong place. I just wanted to run in and out of the store to grab a bottle of tea. When I came out, I saw some jackass hooking my car to a tow truck. I rushed over, but no matter how much money I offered, he wouldn’t give me a break. He did hand me a business card so that I could pick up my car.
