Reckless: A Bad Boy Sport Romance Page 10

  “Brooklyn, please, you've gotta believe me.” He wove his fingers through mine, squeezing my hand softly. “I don't give a damn if no one else stands by me, but I need to know that you believe me. That you're on my side. God knows I ain't perfect, and I've done some pretty fucked up things and I'll own up to every single one of them, but not this... Not this.”

  His slowly blinking, but resolute gaze held mine. I stared back at him, the rattling thoughts in my head subsiding. Call me crazy, but everything about the way he was saying this and looking at me was utterly convincing.

  “Listen, Ace, I –”

  “What the fuck is going on over here?”

  Xavier came charging at us from behind, bulldozing through the bar crowd. He looked like a certified jackass with his $3,000 maroon beanie, designer jeans, and a bare chest that looked like a 3-year-old had gotten hold of a neon marker and scribbled all over it. Ace let go of my hand slowly, smirking at him.

  “Warner, you stay the fuck away from my girl –”

  “You got something to say to me?”

  “First of all.” I stepped in between the swelling chests before things could escalate. “Xavier, you and I are over. You need to leave right now before I –”

  2 bouncers seemingly appeared out of thin air. They gave Ace a quick nod and wedged Xavier between them, grabbing his shoulders. Xavier's eyebrows shot up, his face twisting with livid confusion.

  “What're you – get offa me!” Xavier cried out, kicking his legs as the guards lifted him off the ground and hauled him off in the other direction.

  When Xavier was finally dragged out of sight, Ace reached for my arms once more, but I wriggled away from his grasp.

  “Sorry, I gotta go.”

  I grabbed my clutch and turned away from him, but I paused, looking over my shoulder with some parting advice.

  “Ace, you need to slow down. You're a wreck. Go home, take a hot shower, go to bed early for once. I may not be an expert on this, but I'm pretty sure drowning yourself in all that booze is the last thing that's gonna help. But if it's any consolation, I believe you. Good night.”

  And with that, I walked away from him and made my way to the exit.

  Chapter Nine: Brooklyn

  2004

  The air smelled slightly of stale gym socks and old food, but right at that moment, I couldn't have cared less.

  Soft, sucking noises and my panting breaths filled the small, cluttered bedroom. From behind me, his warm, broad tongue lapped against my quivering folds. My cheeks squished against the sheets, cherry-red from the blood rushing to my head. Sensing my weakening knees, his rough grip around my waist tightened as he kept my cunt propped up in the air.

  My arms lay limp on my sides. The thought of him taking control of me as I lay helplessly before him was what kept my juices streaming out of my soaking cunt. I wanted him to make me cum. I wanted to peek over my shoulder and see my creamy slime dripping down his mouth and chin. And I wanted him to lick every drop off me, pleading for more...

  One of his hands slid down from my waist and reached around me. His thumb found my clit, gently playing with the pearl as he buried his face deeper between my butt cheeks. A raspy squeal shot out of my mouth. I could feel the tip of his nose gliding up and down my slippery lips, sniffing my scent.

  “Hold on.”

  Wiping his mouth, Ace reached for the flashlight on his desk. My eyes rounded dramatically as he tore open another condom, dressing the 6-inch base of the flashlight with the clear, wet rubber. He walked over to me, his hard cock aimed at me like the pointer of a compass.

  “Would it be okay if I tried something?” He fell back to his knees, stroking up and down the back of my thigh.

  The fleeting panic washed away as I looked back at him. I pinched my lips shut, nodding at him wordlessly. A slow, almost animal grin spread across his face.

  “It's okay, relax.” Feeling his hot mouth grazing against the flesh of my thighs, my whole body softened. “I just wanna make you feel good...”

  He eased the length of the flashlight into my lips slowly. I yelped, clutching onto the sheets. Even with the layer of latex, I could still feel how cool the hard metal was inside of me. But as he tapped his finger along my clit, pumping the flashlight in and out of me, the stinging slowly dwindled.

  “Fuck, it's so hot watching you get stretched out up close,” said Ace gruffly behind me. His voice was so low, it was almost as if he was unaware he was saying it out loud.

  My eyes slowly fluttered open as I twisted my head back to watch him. He stared hard at my cunt with narrow, brooding eyes, vigorously wetting his lips as he handled me. There was this carnal look flashing in his eyes, yet the eager way he explored my cunt was so tender at the same time. I could feel how bad he wanted me. I could feel how good he wanted me to feel...

  Ace pulled the flashlight out of me. He leaned in, biting one of my butt cheeks before scrambling back to his feet. I groaned in surprise at the sharp, sore spot forming on my butt, but before I could react any further, his fingers dug into my cheeks and forced them apart with one hand. And when he started to reach for a fresh condom, I grabbed his wrist.

  “Wait. I wanna feel you – and I mean, really feel what it's like to have you inside of me. Just for a little bit.”

  He didn't need to be told twice. Grabbing hold of his cock, he pressed his warm, pink head against my glistening cunt. I moaned, giving him a weak nod of approval as I lowered my head back onto the bed. The lips of my yearning cunt pulsed. But he continued to tease me, pushing the tip of his cock between my lips and just keeping them there. I squirmed under him, purring breathlessly. I couldn't take much more of this. I just wanted him inside of me now...

  Ace was enjoying every little bit of my torturous ecstasy. Reaching out between my legs, I begun massaging his balls, tickling the strip of his taint. Just as expected, he finally cave in. He slid the entire length of his cock inside me all at once. I clenched my thighs, tightening my trembling walls around his hard, powerful length.

  It was like a switch had flipped. Ace seized me by the waist and started ramming himself in and out of me. I snatched up one of his pillows and pulled it against my face, my loud moans stifled by the lumpy feathers. My breasts and swollen-stiff nipples swung back and forth from his rough, rhythmic momentum.

  And that was when we heard it – the sound of bulky tires rolling up the driveway.

  “Shit!” Ace yanked himself out of me. He pulled on his boxers hastily as he stumbled towards the window. “My dad's home early.”

  I leaped out of his bed and picked up the loose pieces of my cheerleading outfit littered across the floor. Ace's face clouded with dread. Pulling on an old Blink-182 shirt and some green jersey shorts, he headed for the door.

  “Stay here,” said Ace sullenly as he opened the door. “Lemme try to distract him, then I'll come back up and get you and sneak you out the back door. I'm sorry –”

  “That's okay. I get it.”

  As Ace hurried down the stairs, I quickly got dressed and crept towards the door. I squatted down and twisted the doorknob as delicately as I could. I left the door just slightly ajar, just enough to get a little earful of what was going on downstairs.

  Mr. Warner's heavy boots clunked up the steps of the front porch. Then, I heard the sound of jingling keys, followed by the slam of the door. I could feel the tension inside the living room from all the way up here, and it was suffocating.

  “Hey, Dad. You're back early.” I noted the cool, collected tone in Ace's voice. This was obviously not his first predicament. “How was –”

  “Don't give me none of that noise,” Mr. Warner snarled back at him. “I saw her car parked across the street. Where is she?”

  “Alright, alright. Keep it down – she'll hear you. She's upstairs. What's the big deal –”

  “Aren't you supposed to be at practice?”

  “Practice was canceled today – Coach called in sick this morning and they couldn't find a last mi
nute substitute. Call the school if you don't believe me –”

  “So why aren't you picking up extra shifts at Wally's?”

  “Wally didn't need me today. It's Tuesday. It's a slow day. And is it really too much to ask for one day off –”

  “I don't want you getting your priorities all screwed up over some cheerleader. These rich, country club types – they'll never take you seriously –”

  “Jesus, Dad, you don't even know her.”

  “I know girls like her. I'm sure she's a nice girl, but she's not like us. Girls like her get everything handed to them. What do you think's gonna happen when she gets tired of you?”

  I shifted uncomfortably in place. My panties were still clinging to my damp limps and I was sweating through my uniform. Not only did I feel extremely guilty about eavesdropping on the father and son, it was excruciating to have to listen to any of this. But I just couldn't stop.

  “It's like I said, you know nothing about her. You don't know how hard she works – not everyone's a goddamn reflection of their parents –”

  “Don't you talk back to me!” I jumped at the sound of Mr. Warner's thunderous voice. “Don't you get it? Football's your only chance to get your ass out of this crap hole, your chance to make something of yourself. A chance my old man never gave me –”

  “Dad, keep it down. I get it, I do –”

  “No, you don't. If you only knew of what hell I went through just to get custody of you when she abandoned you, the kind of hell I go through everyday out on that road with my back killing me just to put food on the table. Just to make life a little easier for you...”

  That was all I could take. I closed the door quietly and flattened up against the wall. It was like someone had let out all the air inside of me. I slunk down to the floor, the numb prickles in my chest flowing down to my palms.

  As hurtful and personal as Mr. Warner's statements were, there may be just an inkling of truth to them, after all...

  Chapter Ten: Brooklyn

  2016

  As the rest of the kids cleared out of the studio doors, I walked over to the speaker system and began collecting my things. I noticed Courtney lingering by the door, watching Aiden as she suggestively sucked on a lollipop, but I kept my head down. Aiden appeared oblivious, his back turned to her as he changed out of his dance clothes and back into his school uniform.

  “So, like, what's your deal?” Courtney crept up behind Aiden. She leaned against the ballet barre mounted on the wall mirror, twirling a lock of her magenta highlights.

  “My deal?” Aiden repeated in his usual deadpan voice, glancing up at her as he slipped on his loafers.

  “Yeah, like, you got a girlfriend?” Courtney asked him brazenly, swirling the lollipop around in her mouth. She crossed her arms, her cleavage deepening.

  “Nope.” Aiden didn't seem to notice her rather overt attempt at his attention. He slipped into a striped black-and-gray sweater and put on his hood, all with his back turned to her.

  “Cool.” The lollipop slipped out of Courtney's lips with an audible pop, her tongue and mouth stained with the red candy. “You're really quiet, aren't you? Anyway, a bunch of us are heading to the food court. You wanna come with? Or, you know, maybe we could hang out somewhere else, just you and me –”

  “No, but thanks.”

  I couldn't lie – I was a little taken aback by his answer. Courtney was one of the prettiest girls in class, with her long legs, thick, full lips, and a secret affinity for ballroom dancing. It took almost a month before the guys stopped getting all googly-eyed and distracted from staring at her during practice.

  “Cool – oh.” Courtney blinked, seemingly stunned at the rejection. But she quickly recovered, shrugging as she strutted out the door. “Okay. I guess I'll see you around.”

  “See ya.”

  Before Aiden left, I ran up behind him. Aiden was clearly not the most outgoing of the kids, but he'd been acting even more reserved than usual. He chose to dance alone, standing at least 10 feet away from the last row, and insisted on keeping his hood on the whole time.

  “Aiden, Aiden wait up!”

  He halted at the door with one foot in front of him, staring straight ahead.

  “What's up, Ms. C? I don't wanna be rude, but I gotta get home.”

  “Yeah, of course, I just wanted to ask...”

  When I saw Aiden's face, my words trailed off. There were a few fresh gashes on his nose and neck, but it was the ugly purplish patch around his swollen left eye that rendered me speechless. He tugged at the sides of his hood with his equally cut-up, black-and-blue knuckles.

  “Are you okay?”

  “I'm good, Ms. C. Really. It's not as bad as it looks.” He gave me a slight nod and stepped out the door. “I'll see you next practice.”

  I was tempted to chase him down, but I restrained myself. Whatever it was, it was getting worse. But I needed to stay patient and build his trust. I needed him to come back next practice.

  XXX

  “I'm home!” I called out as I hung up my purse behind the door. “Tab? Tab, you here?”

  The humming of the air conditioning behind the closed door of the guestroom was my only answer. I kicked off my shoes and hung my jacket next to my purse, but when I walked into the living room, my face turned sour. The kitchen was a disaster zone.

  A mountain of dirty dishes caked with half-eaten food was piled high on the sink. Empty food packaging, spilled milk, oatmeal crumbs, and other unidentifiable stains sullied the white marble counters. What looked like ¾ of a stick of butter had been left out on the stove top for hours and was now a yellow, greasy puddle, dribbling down the edge of the stove and onto the floors.

  “Holy crap,” I fumed under my breath. “Really?”

  The rest of the house was no better. It looked like Tabitha's suitcases had thrown up all over the living room. Dresses in varying shades of black ate up most of my sofa set. In the bathroom, Tabitha had taken all of my toiletries and placed them on the top of the toilet bowl, replacing the shelves with her hair iron and makeup products. There were smudges of foundation, black eyeliner, and curly beard trimmings stuck all over my white sink. Worst of all, the shower had been used with the curtains dangling outside of the tub, and the bath rugs were blackened with foot prints and scrunched up in the corners.

  “Unbelievable.”

  When I stomped out of the bathroom, the guestroom door flung open. Tabitha plodded out of the room, yawning and rubbing her eyes. Her nightie was turned inside-out, one of the straps hanging off her shoulders.

  “Brooks?” Tabitha stuffed a fist in her mouth, breaking her second yawn. “Will you keep it down with all the slamming and banging out here – what are you, trying to wake the dead?”

  “What the hell happened in here?” I demanded, sticking a hand on my hip.

  “Sorry, I guess it got a little wild in here.” Tabitha poked her head into the bathroom and paced around the kitchen slowly. “Shawn – or was it Shane? Anyway, he spent the night.”

  “That's one thing, but would it kill you to clean up after yourself around here?” I went off at her. Before I could stop myself, I was on a roll. “You said you'd clean up the crap in the kitchen 2 days ago! You know I love you, Tab, but this is getting out of hand. The last thing I want to do when I get home from a long day at work is to deal with –”

  “Okay, Mom,” Tabitha snapped, shaking her head. “I said I was sorry.”

  “And I don't know what's gotten into you – I don't mind you bringing some guy home once in a while, but there's been a different stranger hogging my bathroom every morning this week! It's insane, not to mention dangerous–”

  “Fine.” Tabitha narrowed her eyes, her jaw tightening. She dropped the tone of her voice, viciously enunciating every one of her words. “Whatever. I knew I should've stayed at a hotel, anyway. Don't you worry, I'll be out of your hair by tomorrow morning.”

  “Tabitha, that's not what I –”

  Before I could fin
ish my sentence, the door banged shut, followed by the definitive click of the lock.

  Chapter Eleven: Ace

  2016

  It was half past 7. The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, the grass looked greener than ever – all that jazz. And here I was, looking like I'd just broken through the dirt and crawled out of my grave.

  For starters, since I woke up this morning, my body started breaking out in cold sweats, and there was this twitching in my right arm that I couldn't get rid of. My head was pounding, feeling even worse than it did when I woke up in that hospital bed. There was this weird bubble or pocket of gas floating around in my gut – I was belching and I could taste the acid climbing up my throat and back down like some kind of puke-tease. The 1 and ½ hour car ride here was exceptionally bumpy today, and it sure as hell wasn't doing my gut any favors.

  I couldn't remember the last time I'd dragged my ass out of bed this early. For the last couple of months, I considered myself lucky if I made it home by 6 for some shuteye. But I had a feeling that waking up at an ungodly hour had nothing to do with it. I hadn't had a drink in 96 hours, and it was starting to take its toll.

  By the time Brooklyn left me at Club Monaco, Daymond and Tabitha were long gone. So, I took it upon myself to hit the bar to entertain myself. I did a couple of rounds of body shots with some strangers until some dude eventually recognized me and took a swing at me. Luckily for me, the dude was smashed out of his mind and missed, falling over and knocking himself out instead, but I knew it was time to bail. I hailed a cab and got back to my place, but when I discovered that I was all out of booze, I caught myself trying to suck up one of the beer stains on the rug. It was right then that I realized that Brooklyn – and everyone else – might have had a point.

  I stepped out of my car, wincing under the angry sunlight as I walked towards the training center. Other than mine, there were only 4 other cars in the parking lot. As usual, Coach's silver Maserati was parked in the square closest to the front doors. I could've sworn the man lived here.