Playing Hard: A Bad Boy Sports Romance (37 page)

I hold my breath. The seconds tick by.

“Ava,” Murray says, and I can tell instantly from his tone that he isn’t sold on it. “What would be the point? Everyone will forget about it soon anyway — and you can still see Riley, if that’s what you want. This just doesn’t matter that much.”

It’s not about that!
I want to shout at him. This is about Bryce being exposed for what he is, and Riley being proven right all along. This is about
principle
, not what people will remember or be talking about in two weeks’ time.

But I know none of that will resonate with Murray. He just doesn’t think in those terms. My mind spins, trying to find a way to get him to agree to put this video out there — to show people the truth.

“Maybe not,” I say quickly, still thinking of what I’m going to say, even as the words come tumbling out of my mouth. “But what about this? You say people need to be sold a story, and that me and Riley breaking up right before the election would get people talking. But what about this? How about, instead of breaking up, we stay together. It’s not a play for sympathy, it’s a redemption story. Riley, who everyone knows is a player and partier, has changed his ways. This footage
proves
it’s him telling the truth, and Bryce is lying. Riley can show he’s a different person now. He was only at the party when the cops showed up because he was helping the people who might’ve been hurt when Bryce drove though the fence. Riley gets redeemed. He’s someone my father would be proud to say is dating his daughter. It’s a happy ending. Doesn’t that sound like a compelling narrative? Doesn’t that sound like something people will be talking about for more than a couple of weeks?”

There’s a few more seconds of silence, and I hope against hope that it’s silence as Murray thinks my idea over, instead of him finding a way to let me down easy.

I shouldn’t have worried — Murray’s never had any concern about letting anyone down easy.

“Send me this footage,” he says. “Now.”

CHAPTER FORTY

RILEY

I lean back on the bed, groaning.

The first thing I’d seen when I came out of the hearing this morning had been Ava, waiting for me in the reception area. She’d been flushed and excited, and as she’d explained to me about the footage of Bryce in his car, as well as her plan to push Murray into publicizing it, I hadn’t been able to stop myself from kissing her, right there in front of everybody.

She’s the smartest person I’ve ever known.

We’d been planning to go out to a bar tonight to celebrate, but in the end, we stayed at home.

After all the stress of the hearing, the only thing I wanted to do was take her to bed and forget about it all.

I have no idea how it went — they asked me questions, and maybe they listened to the answers. I gave them my supporting documents, and Coach Thompson spoke on my behalf. Afterward, he told me that Coach Jackson was pissed as hell about their threat to take my scholarship, but that things had gone over his head.

Now I just have to try to get used to the idea that it’s out of my hands.

I
hate
not feeling in control. That my life is being decided by other people.

There’s nothing I can fucking do about it, though.

Nothing, except….

“Oh God,
Ava…
” I gasp as she runs her tongue over the underside of my cock, from root to tip.

This girl is amazing. And she can do more with her mouth than just talk.

I look down at where her lips are wrapped around me, her head bobbing as she sucks me off, slow and steady. Just the way she knows I love it.

God, she looks so fucking hot right now, her pink lips stretched around me, dark hair flowing around her face, her deep blue eyes looking up at me earnestly as she slides up and down my cock, leaving it glistening with her saliva.

Her mouth is so warm and wet, and her lips so tight around me that I’m having to hold myself back from coming already — so when her hand comes up to wrap gently around my balls, there’s no way I can hold out.

“
Fuck,
” I groan out, my throat tightening, my hips jerking forward uncontrollably as I come straight down her throat. My dick pulses, spilling wave after wave of come into her, until it spills out the sides of her lips. Ava pulls back, releasing me, and lets the rest of my come land over her throat and breasts. She’s breathing heavily, licking her swollen lips, and looking even hotter than I’ve ever seen her before.

And she’s mine.

Once I’ve managed to recover my legs, I stand and go to the bathroom, running a towel under hot water before coming back out to her, kneeling down next to her on the floor and beginning to slowly wipe the come from her face. She strokes my face as I do it, watching me until she’s all clean. Usually I’d like to see her covered in my come — like I’m making my territory or something like that — but this time it’s not necessary. I know she’s mine. I’ve marked her in other ways — from the inside out.

“I love doing that,” she says, still a little breathless. “You look amazing when you come. I love being able to watch you. Usually I’m so caught up with… you know, myself….”

I laugh, and plant a kiss on her forehead. “Yeah, I’ve kind of noticed,” I say. And I have, too — one of the things I love about Ava is that when she’s turned on, she basically becomes just one big erogenous zone. I could touch her anywhere and she’d be squirming and calling my name. It’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. She gets so into it that sometimes it’s hard not to just sit back and watch her, even if it means I’m missing out on some of the intensity of my orgasm. She’s just so freaking
hot.

Hot, and smart, and gorgeous as hell. I love it.

“I love you.”

I stop mid-wipe, my hand, still holding the towel, hovering over her breast.

“What?” I ask, staring at her.

Ava bites her lip, slowly turning red.

“I’m sorry,” she blurts out. “I — I didn’t mean to say that, it just kind of… I mean, it just slipped out….”

Before she can say anything else, I shut her up by leaning forward and kissing her. Hard.

I take her up in my arms and lift her, scooping her up off the ground before dumping her on her back on the bed, covering her with my body.

“I love you too,” I say when we break apart.

The words are easier to say than I ever thought they would be. I’ve never said them to anyone before — at least, not in a romantic sense, but almost never in any other sense either — but they just slip out of my lips now as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Because it’s true.

I fucking love the hell out of this girl.

I lean forward and kiss her again, hungrily, like I want to devour her whole. Which, in a way, I do.

I slowly kiss my way down her body and don’t stop until I reach her sweet little pussy, glistening with wetness between her thighs. She cries out as I run my tongue over the her clit, circling it with my tongue, making her shudder.

She’s already soaking wet, so my fingers slide into her easily as I push my tongue between her lips, savoring her taste, her softness. She’s sweet and salty and all mine.

I can tell she’s already close to the edge. Seems like she was turned on by sucking me off earlier, and she’s desperate for this. I pump my fingers into her while my tongue sweeps over her clit, teasing her, making her writhe and arch.

God, I could do this all day.

I love the way she tastes and smells; I love the way her voice sounds when she’s crying my name.

I keep her balanced on the edge for as long as I can stand it, until she’s a gasping, twitching, moaning wreck, and only then do I give her her release, feeling warmth flood over my hand, her pussy squeezing my fingers like a vise.

“Fuck,
fuck, Riley
…” she calls out brokenly, arching slightly, a sheen of sweat coating her, the aftershocks of her orgasm still making her shudder.

I slip my fingers into my mouth and lick her off me, still loving the taste of her. She looks up at me through half-lidded eyes, lips parted as she breathes.

“God that was amazing,” she whispers, before raising her hand to stroke my face.

“You’re easy to eat,” I say, grinning wickedly down at her.

“Shut up and kiss me,” she says, and I do.

I lie down next to her when we part, putting a hand under my head and staring at the ceiling.

“Are you brooding?” she asks, propping herself up on one elbow next to me, while the other plays over my chest.

“Maybe.”

“There’s nothing we can do about it now, Riley,” she says. “Murray’s spread that footage far and wide. It’s been picked up
everywhere
. Bryce is in deep shit, but I don’t know if it’ll affect the outcome of the hearing.”

I shrug. “I know. And honestly, I don’t give a fuck. I just wish I could’ve seen Bryce’s face when he found out about that video.”

Ava laughs. “That would’ve been awesome.”

She lies back down next to me, wrapping her arm across my chest.

“You know that whatever happens, though, I’ll be here for you,” she says quietly after a moment. “I’m not going anywhere.”

I raise my head to put a small kiss on the top of her head.

“Me neither,” I say. “You’re stuck with me now.”

Ava laughs a little, her breath warm against my side.

“Worst comes to the worst, I get my trust fund when I turn twenty-five. Do you think you can live like a pauper until then, if my father decides to kick me out?”

“You have a trust fund?”

“Well, yeah. I mean… most people in my… well, my situation do. My grandma set it up for me. And it means I can work in something I care about, even if it’s not that lucrative. My dad still thinks I’ll work in the oil industry, but that’s not what I care about. I’d rather work in sustainability. That’s what I want to do my thesis on.”

I look down at her. Her eyes are shining as she speaks, and I can tell this means a lot to her. Even if I don’t think I could understand the first thing about anything she wants to work on.

I take a few strands of her hair, letting them run through my fingers.

“I guess this makes me a gold digger, then,” I say.

Ava sits up, slapping my arm.

“Don’t say shit like that,” she says. “Not even as a joke. It’s not true — if I thought it was, I wouldn’t be with you. Anyway, after you go pro you’ll basically be minting your own money. You won’t need mine.”

“Fair enough,” I say, as she settles back down next to me.

Even though it’s early, I feel warm enough and comfortable enough that I start to drift off into a sleepy doze. Ava is by my side, snuggled into the crook of my arm.

And really, that’s all I need.

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

AVA

Six years later

I lick my lips, tapping my fingers on the wheel of my car as I wait at the stoplight.

I’m nervous — there’s no point in denying it.

I got caught up in my lab work and now I’m late, too — which isn’t brilliant. Riley’s going to be going crazy. I think he’s even more on edge than I am about this. And he’s got a big game coming up too, a pain in his knee that keeps coming back, and, well, the fact that he’s
Riley
means he goes from calm to stressed out in about 0.3 seconds flat. It’s one thing about him that’s never changed, even as our lives have become so drastically different over the past six years.

Riley did end up leaving Blaketon. Not because the Scholarships Office canceled his place, but by choice. He transferred to a smaller university with a Division I team in Oregon. The pressure after everything that had happened in Blaketon was just too much, and he needed to concentrate on the game, and not all the bullshit that surrounded it. He needed to do nothing but eat, sleep and breathe football, and make his final year as a college player count for everything it could.

The long distance thing was hell — I’m not going to lie. But it was a good test for us early on in our relationship: whether could we trust each other, and whether we could withstand being apart for weeks at a time, while I studied and Riley played (he assured me he studied too, though I have my doubts sometimes). We had fights, and there were times I almost felt like we were through. The last time that happened though, he turned up on my doorstep and kissed me, before throwing me over his shoulder and taking me up to my bedroom.

We never really had another big fight again after that.

When Riley finished his undergraduate degree and was drafted, his first contract broke records. There was a fierce bidding war over him — teams were trying desperately to buy the rights to sign him, but Riley isn’t a drama queen, and he stuck with the team that originally drafted him. The money was insane anyway, and the only thing he was interested in was playing.

My dad took a long time to come around. Paradoxically, Riley going to Oregon even helped with that. I won’t say that my father was
expecting
him to cheat or break up with me — but he totally was. He said as much after I came home in tears after seeing Riley off at the airport. We didn’t speak for about a week after that. But, slowly but surely, as it became clear that Riley and I were serious, he began to thaw. When Riley saved up every penny he had to come see me for the whole summer instead of going out partying, I think he started to realize that we weren’t just going to forget about each other.

I pull in a deep breath as the light,
finally
, turns green. I take off with a bit too much force, my tires squealing, but I can’t bring myself to care right now. I can’t help but smile a little as I think about what Riley’s reaction would be, though:
Careful! Jesus, don’t do shit like that. Not in your condition.

Ever since I got pregnant he’s been treating me like I’m made of porcelain. It’s kind of annoying, but it's also sweet. I came home one day to find him putting all my high heels into a bag, before hoisting them over his shoulder and taking them up to the attic.

It’s bad for your back,
he’d told me.
I’m not having you walking around in them and hurting yourself. Besides, you’re sexy enough without them.

And that’s what it’s always been like. Six years later, a whole country between us, a pro football career for him and a PhD. for me, and we’re still as crazy as ever about each other. I’d been worried he might find it a turn-off when I got pregnant, but if anything, he’s found me even more sexy since then. He can’t keep his hands off me — sliding his hands across the small of my back, rubbing my belly, lying with his head on my boobs while he lazily rubs his fingers over my clit, slowly bringing me to climax.

And the sex….

It’s never gotten any less explosive, ever since that first time in the library. After we built our house, we had to ‘christen’ every room. Multiple times. On every piece of furniture. In every position.

Riley has never been anything if not thorough.

And I love him so much it hurts. There’s never been anyone but him in my life, and I’ve never wanted anyone else.

The only thing I’ve ever wanted is the life we have together. The only thing I’m worried about is how our dogs are going to react to suddenly not being the center of the household universe anymore.

I pull up at the doctor’s office, getting out of the car slowly. I didn’t have time to change out of my lab coat, so it flaps against my legs as I hurry up the steps. I glance back as I go — yep, Riley’s car is in the parking lot. Unlike a lot of footballers, he hasn’t gone for something flashy. Or not
obviously
flashy, anyway. What he
was
able to do with his first contract was buy an old ’67 Cougar and restore it. He always said it was his dream car, and the car itself cost nothing. Doing it up, though… that did set him back a little. But looking at it now, you can see where every nickel went. It’s gorgeous.

Just as I predicted, Riley is pacing uncontrollably in the hall when I get inside. He looks up when I come in, and I see both relief and frustration flooding his face.

“Ava!” he says, rushing to me. “For fuck’s sake — you couldn’t call to say you were running late?”

“Nice to see you too, darling,” I say, flashing him a quick smile. “And no – not while I was driving.”

“All right, fine,” he grumbles. “They’re waiting for us.”

I suck in a deep breath, and nod.

Doctor Hannover is standing, clipboard in hand when we come in. She’s a cute, short, dumpy woman, and you can tell she loves her job.

“Well, look at you two,” she trills when we come in, Riley’s hand in mine. “Things must be getting pretty exciting now, with that bump starting to show.”

I laugh.
Exciting
isn’t the word for it – and we’ve been excited since the moment the home pregnancy test showed two lines. It wasn’t something we’d planned on; we’d always decided kids would be something we’d just let happen. I went off the pill, but that was about as much as we thought about it.

“You hop up on the bed and pull your top up, sweetie, and I’ll be back in a moment,” Doctor Hannover says, flashing me a smile.

I do as she says, though Riley insists on holding my hand as I climb up.

“Honestly, Riley, how do you think I get around during the day when you’re not around?” I ask him.

Riley’s eyebrows draw together. “You know the only way I can get through a day is by imagining you’re at home with your feet propped up, drinking organic smoothies and watching daytime TV.”

I laugh. “Dream on. You know that’s not going to happen.”

Riley tries to frown, but I can see his laugh struggling to come to the surface. He loves how passionate I am about my work. He tells me he doesn’t understand a thing I do, but he understands more than he gives himself credit for. I’ve read passages of my thesis to him to check for clarity, and I’ll usually find him nodding along, or even making suggestions.

Once I’m lying down, I reach over and squeeze his hand.

“You ready?” I ask him.

Riley sighs. “I’m not sure I’ll ever be ready. It’s like… I don’t know. It all seems so unreal.”

I smile. I know exactly what he means.

Doctor Hannover comes back into the room.

“All right, let’s get this started. I’ll warn you now — this might be cold,” she says, squirting gel onto my belly.

It is, but I know to expect it now — this is my third ultrasound. But it’ll be the first where we’ll actually be able to see the baby, and know that everything’s okay. And the first where we’ll know if it’s a boy or a girl, though we haven’t even made up our mind if we want to be told.

Doctor Hannover switches on the monitor, picking up the probe and pressing it to my bump.

No matter what, I don’t think I’ll ever get over it — being able to see our child before he or she is even here. Doctor Hannover murmurs a few things about how good the baby is looking, how well-formed and developed, but I don’t think I can take in any of it. I sure hope Riley is listening, because I’m not. He’s squeezing my hand like he’s worried I’m going to somehow fly away.

“Ahh, now don’t move,” Doctor Hannover says. “Just a moment.”

The screen flashes black, and then, a beige picture appears on the monitor.

I gasp, and Riley’s hand squeezes mine even harder. For the first time, I can see our baby’s face on the screen.

“What a little cutie,” the doctor says. “Look at the little nose there. Cute as a button. But with parents like you, who can go wrong?”

I laugh. But she’s right — our baby really
is
cute as a button. Perfect in every way.

“Well then, do you want to know the sex of the baby?” Doctor Hannover asks.

I glance up at Riley. We’ve talked about this, but we haven’t really been able to come to a conclusion.

But then, Riley answers for both of us.

“No,” he says, shaking his head, eyes still glued to the ultrasound monitor. “Whatever it is, it’ll be perfect.”

Later, I’m lying on the couch with my feet up — as per Riley’s orders — eating a wholesome chicken salad filled with all kinds of nutrients. I’ve been at the lab all day, and I’m bushed. I thought I’d try to watch some junk TV to take my mind off my work, but with my husband wandering around the lounge all shirtless, I’m having a hard time concentrating.

He still looks exactly the same as he did all those years ago, when he swept me up in his arms after the Blaketon Saints won the playoffs. Still the same taut, lean muscles, golden skin, dirty blond hair. I still find him the most wildly attractive person I’ve ever seen — and he says the same about me. Baby bump and all.

I even find him hot when he’s pacing around the room, talking to his mom on the phone.

“No, Mom,” Riley says, looking at me and rolling his eyes. “We didn’t find out if it’s a boy or a girl. What? No, I’m totally
not
calling it that…
yes
I’m serious….”

I filter out the conversation and just focus on watching Riley’s body as he moves around the room. He must have a conversation that goes like this with Marcia every other day. She’s excited for her first grandchild, and honestly, I can’t blame her. My dad is the same way — in his own, low-key way. He’s busy with his work in the senate, but he can always take time to call me and see how things are, ask if there’s anything I need. He’s softened a lot over the past few years. I think he’ll make an amazing grandpa.

Riley finally manages to end the conversation with his mom, and comes over to sit by me on the couch. He puts one arm around me and the other on my belly, resting his head against mine.

“What the fuck is this shit?” he asks after a moment. “Is that Kim Kardashian?”

“Probably,” I say. “How’s your mom?”

“The same,” he says, reaching into my bowl and stealing a piece of chicken. I smack him with the underside of my fork, but he ignores me. “Obsessed with the baby. Busy at work.”

Marcia works at the charter school my father and I set up in the neighborhood Riley grew up in. The public school he went to was forced to close, and for a while it seemed like the kids would have to be bused way out to another one — but that just didn’t make sense to me. We founded it and set it up, but we don’t get involved in running it. The staff, teachers and parents have total control over how the school’s run. The only thing we ask is that each student is told that they too can achieve anything, no matter where they’re from.

Just like Riley has.

We’ve built the perfect life together.

And soon, we’ll have another addition — our first baby. The beginning of a new chapter in our lives.

As Riley picks up the remote and flips to a channel showing something about competitive fishing, I snuggle into his side, putting my head on his chest and listening to his heartbeat.

This life may not be very exciting or the kind of thing that makes for headlines, but it suits us just fine.

And I wouldn’t have it any other way.