Free Baller: An Off-limits, Sports Romance (Bad Boy Ballers Book 2) Page 8

  Those damn boots. I kissed his hip, following the deep rugged groove of muscle leading to his cock.

  My hands skated up and down his thighs. My breath came in short fast pants.

  I rose up, my breasts at Brooks’s face.

  He immediately latched on, and I cupped him to me. Rough wet denim met my smooth legs as I tucked my hand low, finding his balls.

  He broke his lip-lock. “Christ. Get me naked.”

  “How am I supposed to take these off?” I kneeled at his feet, eyeing the boots.

  The smirk curling one side of his beard warned me.

  Brooks widened his legs and tapped a boot sole on my thigh. “Bootjack. Or the bare-ass method.”

  Wetness spilled from my pussy at his hungry look at my body.

  “You’re lying,” I said, raining my hair all over his abdomen like the lashes of a whip.

  “Wanna find out?” He gripped the nape of my neck in a loose hold.

  “Are you challenging me?”

  He smirked, and every single hard muscle on his torso chiseled into high relief. “Wouldn’t dare.”

  Standing . . . slowly . . . I turned my back. My hands caressed my body from thighs to shoulders to my neck, and I listened to Brooks grunt.

  Biting my lip, I bent low over his left leg.

  Naked, I knew he had the perfect view of my engorged need, the wetness spilling down my thighs, my ass on view.

  “Delaney.” He groaned.

  “Give me your foot.”

  The boot rose, and I rocked forward when he planted his other sole on my butt. He pushed me forward, the cowboy boot coming with me. I quickly got back in place, my entire body fired up from the view I was giving Brooks.

  The second one came off fast, and I imagined Brooks wasn’t far behind. I spun around, hands at his jeans. I dragged them down and off and . . . holy mother of thick cock.

  He was long and thick and hefty when I weighed him in my palm. “Commando again? You really are a free-baller.”

  His head knocked back. His hands danced on my shoulders. His cock kicked in my hand.

  “Suck me.”

  “I don’t usually take orders anymore.” I lapped at his full balls.

  “I know. Just—”

  “This time I don’t mind.” I admired his cock for a few more seconds because I loved the feel of his iron hard rod leaping in my hand.

  Then I wet my lips and kissed the hot glossy dome. Precome dazzled my tongue, and I sucked it down my throat.

  His hips jutted.

  I bet his brain melted too.

  I loved his cock. I could probably get off just by giving him head alone.

  My stomach trembled when I slavered over him. On my knees because I wanted it, I licked up and down and rolled his balls into my mouth. Every time Brooks grunted, I moved to his cockhead and sucked at the ridge. I lipped his frenulum, lightly bathed his thick dick, wetting the shaft all over.

  “Beer-can-cock much?” I bit my bottom lip, stroking him in my fist.

  “Oh Jesus. Swallow it.” His toes curled, and he gripped his cock, rubbing it over my cheeks.

  He slapped the shaft against my lips, and I more than welcomed him.

  I loved it.

  I wanted it.

  Opening up to him, I slid my lips around the fat tip of his cock. I eased more and more of him into my mouth, listening to him swear as he stroked my shoulders and my cheeks.

  Rising to his feet, he fucked my face with slow steady strokes, reaching the back of my mouth and pulling all the way out. Every time my lips rolled over the big cockhead, he groaned. The muscles on his thighs stood out harder.

  His thumb moved to the corner of my lips, and he dipped my neck back until he was practically straddling my face.

  “Jesus fucking Christ, you look so goddamn hot with my dick in your mouth.” He pulled the wet length back, ran his fist over the bulging veins then pumped me full again.

  I spread my knees, the insides of my thighs damp, my pussy aching to be filled and fucked. I cupped his balls in one hand, my breast in the other, strumming my nipple.

  “Yeah. That’s it.” Harsh deep breaths rolled in and out of his chest. “Play with those tits.”

  His pace quickened. His dick got even harder. I pinched my nipple, moaning around the mouthful of incredible cock.

  “I’m gonna come.” His thighs spread. His pelvis jerked. “Are you gonna swallow?”

  I slid my lips free, tasting him with just my tongue. “Yes. Come in my mouth. I want you.”

  “Put it back in.”

  Reaching around to his ass, I grabbed his hard glutes and forced his ever-thickening cock into my mouth.

  His dick kicked between my lips, and I focused on the head, tasting his male musk.

  “Look at me when you—” The sudden swelling of his cock seemed to shock him. “Oh, Delaney. Fuck, fu—”

  I glanced up at his face—his expression raw, his eyes half-mast. Then long hot streams of ejaculate exploded into my mouth. Spatter after spatter while he flexed and groaned and shook.

  I loved his flavor. The warm wet flow. The sound of his rough voice. Swallow after swallow, I sucked on him.

  “Taste good? Fuck, Delaney.” He pumped in and out a few more times, probably loving the sight of my come-coated lips stretching around the lethally thick pole of flesh.

  “So good,” I whispered, licking my lips. “I want more.”

  His entire body shuddered. “Goddamn.”

  To prove my point, I sexily lapped at him. My tongue searching for every last drop of come. Brooks grunted and groaned, twisting his hips against my face.

  “Jesus girl, I’ve got so much more for you.”

  His cock stayed hard. It slapped upright against his belly when I let the rigid rod go. His balls still looked incredibly full.

  I leaned back, my fingers sliding down my torso and into my pussy. “I need you inside me, Brooks.”

  My hips danced and shivered, and with a sudden loud curse, he reached down. Brooks had me in his arms then on his bed. I stared as he loomed over me, my body a wet trembling mess of need. I lay panting, waiting for him to press his body onto me, for him to rub that massive cock against me, but he stayed just above me, looking but not touching.

  “I need a condom?”

  “I’m on the pill. I’m clean. I want to feel you inside me.”

  He sucked in a huge breath and let it out with a harsh groan. “You sure?”

  I nodded, rolling my hand low to feel the weight of his wet cock in my palm again.

  “I’m cleared too.” His gritty voice shivered over me.

  “Aren’t you going to fuck me then?” I drew my hands up the sturdy muscles of his arms and shoulders to his neck, tangling my fingers in the hair there.

  His neck arched sharply, and the heat in his eyes when his gaze locked on mine made my body sing.

  Then he grinned suddenly and boosted onto his back. “You’re in charge, Delaney.”

  As soon as I straddled him, his grin slipped away. I grasped the base of his shaft and rose to my knees. Slipping the hot tip around my lips, I rubbed it against my clit, arching and rolling my body as the feeling of wetness spread, my moisture leaking onto his cock.

  With a hand braced on Brooklyn’s wide chest, the hairs tingling my palm, I undulated into the zinging feeling of hot male cock against my sopping swollen pussy.

  I loved the pelt on his chest. The brawn of his body. The pubes at his groin and his thunderous groan that told me he ached as much as me.

  I knew I was teasing him. His features twisted. His lips parted. His heated eyes roved between my dangling breasts and the way I pleasured myself with his cock.

  “You still want me in charge?” I asked coyly, rolling my hips so the slick wet noise between us grew.

  He nodded, swallowing.

  I dipped just slightly down, and his fat head split me. My pussy lips opened slowly, kissing, sucking then closing around the ridge of the huge tip.


  I watched his abs tighten. “You wanna thrust all the way inside, don’t you?”

  “Fuck yes.”

  “But you won’t?” Achingly slow, torrid heat burning all along my body, I lifted up.

  His cockhead slurped out.

  A ragged rush of air streamed from his mouth.

  Lowering again, I swallowed the tip inside. I held him there, just the fattest part inside me, and ran my fingertips up and down the amazing length of him.

  “Fuck.” His hips shifted, slightly, just once after I’d repeated the same sexually agonizing move several more times.

  Unable to do anything else, Brooks brought his hands to my breasts. He fondled and plucked my nipples, and I howled at the body-screaming pleasure.

  I withdrew him from my slit again, and his head beat back against the pillows.

  A slow smile curved my lips. Draping myself on top of him, I slid my hot cunt over the hard roll of his cock. I bit his earlobe then licked it, my breath trembling.

  “Want to know what I want?”

  “Yeah.” His big palms slipped to my waist, and he moved with me, rocking his cock along my simmering pussy.

  “I want you to flip me over. Mount me. And fuck me full of your cock.”

  His jaw clenching, he stared at me with flashing eyes. “You don’t know what you’re asking for.”

  Sitting up, I slapped his cock against my bright pink pussy. “Yes, I do.”

  All his restraint tore away. Within seconds, he had me on my back, my thighs spread, my hips kicked up.

  “You want my cock? You’re gonna get it.” With a roar, Brooks thrust that epic length all the way inside.

  I screamed as he plunged into me, absolutely stretching me. His balls slapped against me, and he rested for a moment, grinding. An instant blinding orgasm ripped right through me—wild intense heat radiating from deep where his stiffness penetrated me.

  “Yeah.” He sneered down at me. “That’s it. Come on my cock.”

  Ramming, rough and raw, Brooklyn took me. I fucked right back, exquisitely full. So aroused even after the first orgasm. Clutching at him with every hard, long stroke, I wrapped my legs around him. I felt him pumping. The hairs on his chest teased my nipples for just a moment before he reared up on his massive arms, swinging that heavy cock in and out of me until the swirling heat gathered again.

  My entire body quaking, I heard him shout. He unloaded inside me as my body sealed tight around him. My insides clasping him, pulsating, eating up every hot spurt exploding from the cock he continued to fuck in and out of me. Milky come covered the root he kept driving into me, and I came again, my stomach full of butterflies.

  His hips stilled. I clinched him deep inside me. He dropped over me, warm wet mouth slipping from my lips to my cheek to my temple.

  “So good,” I groaned out, releasing my weak legs from around his hips.

  “You, Delaney Jones, are one hell of a wild fuck.”

  A triumphant laugh bubbled out of me.

  He rose up to peer at me with an eyebrow cocked. “You think that’s funny?”

  “No. It’s just . . . Guess I don’t need to be worried I’m frigid anymore.”

  “Frigid? Where the fuck did that come from?”

  I ducked my head.

  He tipped my chin back up. “Are you serious? That fucking asshole?”

  Flipping us over so I lay halfway across his chest, he smoothed a comforting palm along my hair and down my back. “Hell no. You’re not frigid. That was . . . yeah. Beyond the hottest experience of my life.”

  I smiled, idly playing with one of his nipples and tugging my fingers through the pattern of hair on his chest. “Mine too.”

  “You tired?” I loved the way his voice rumbled against my ear.

  “No.” But I yawned just after that.

  Brooks pulled a blanket around us, and I fell asleep within his arms, warm, satisfied, protected.

  ****

  I woke up sometime later, completely cuddled against Brooklyn. I had to admit, he was a better sleeping partner than snoring Raquel or groping Sammy. And he felt so strong, smelled so good—still with a hint of salty fresh air.

  Careful not to wake him, I leaned over. My hair brushed against his nose, and he smiled in his sleep, mumbling my name. I gently touched the perfectly sculpted beard and the slight parting of his lips. He was simply mouthwatering.

  I disentangled from him and rose from the bed. Pulling on his shirt, I tiptoed from the room. Downstairs I found the kitchen, more well stocked than mine in my little apartment. I grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and sipped at it as I walked through the house. There didn’t seem to be any signs of his ex anywhere, not even in the bedroom. The place was thoroughly masculine, just like him. And inviting, just like him.

  I finished the water, returning to his room. I cleaned up a little in the adjoining bathroom, noting his aftershave, his razor, the massive shower with multiple heads. A frisson of arousal tingled through me at the idea of soaping and washing him from head to toe to . . . good Lord, his cock.

  In the bedroom, I walked to his dresser. A brush. A watch. A photo of what had to be the ranch in Texas and a weathered-looking man with his same smile—it had to be his granddad.

  Big, gruff . . . soft-hearted Brooklyn Holt. My heart gave a little jump in my chest. Then I noticed myself in the mirror. I definitely wore the look of a well-fucked woman. And my chin, cheeks, breasts, and belly were a little red.

  “Who said you could leave my bed?” Brooklyn’s low teasing voice rumbled behind me.

  “I was just casing the joint while you were asleep,” I joked back.

  “Uh huh.” He padded up behind me, naked, sleep-rumpled, even more mouthwatering.

  “I have a beard rash.” I pointed at my chin.

  He took my earlobe between his lips and cupped my breasts. “Here too.”

  “Probably between my legs as well.”

  “I hope so.” He crowded closer behind me, his fully hard cock dragging across the small of my spine. “You’ll get used to the beard.”

  Slanting my neck, I pushed back against him. “I like it.”

  “I know. Now come back to bed. Not done with you yet.”

  He towed me with him then placed me gently on the bed before following after me. His eyes shined, skimming over my breasts.

  I turned onto my side and traced the hilled muscle of his bicep. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Shoot.”

  “Well”—I stumbled a little—“you said you wanted kids.”

  He leaned up on an elbow. “So did you.”

  “But I don’t know if everything works after . . .” My hand fell to my tummy.

  “I didn’t ask you to marry me or anything.” He looked at me, completely deadpan.

  “Brooks!” I slugged him on the shoulder.

  His face sobering completely, he cuddled me closer. “Sshhh. I’m not taking this lightly. I’m not taking you lightly.”

  “You’re not?” I asked as a tiny flare of hope bloomed inside me.

  “Fuck no. Do you know how much I’ve thought about you? I would’ve asked you out a hundred more times if I hadn’t been so shit-scared of you blowing me off.”

  “I was kind of hard on you, wasn’t I?”

  “Understatement. But so worth the wait.” His nose nuzzled against my hair. “I’m not that kind of man. Not like—”

  I pressed a finger against his mouth. “I don’t want his name said in this bed.”

  Brooks nodded, kissing the tip of my finger. He nudged me over then spooned back against me where he felt so right.

  “Anyway, the kids thing isn’t important. Not right now. You are,” he said quietly.

  Again, that glimmer of hope surfaced.

  I snuggled into him. “Okay. But I don’t want there to be expectations if I don’t know if I can—”

  “The only thing I expect is for you to be exactly who you are.”

  “Okay.”

  “C
an I ask you something?” His placed his palm on my belly. “Did you name her? Your daughter?”

  My hand covered his, holding his warmth against me as I whispered, “Katelynne. Little Katie.”

  Softer tears fell that time, a sort of ending, because sharing the pain of the past with Brooklyn finally healed the last wound inside me.

  Chapter Eleven

  Delaney Jones Has Big Cajones

  Brooklyn

  IT TOOK ME A long time to fall asleep again after Delaney talked about children. Told me her daughter’s name. Little Katie. She nodded off more easily, and I hoped it was because she felt at peace with me.

  In the morning, getting up at the normal early hour, I took care of the horses, then I took care of my woman. Breakfast in bed—hot coffee, hot omelet, and even hotter sex afterward in the double shower with soap lathered all around us.

  Delaney frigid? Her abusive asshat of a deranged husband. He’d clearly fucked with her mind as much as her body.

  I held her hand in the truck all the way to her place, kissed her long and deeply before walking her to her door.

  She pushed me away, finally, after I’d pretty much mauled her on the doorstep. “I’ve gotta get my kit together for practice.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” I dipped my head at her. “Sure you don’t want a ride?”

  “I think you gave me a good enough ride yesterday, and last night, and this morning.”

  Groaning, I fell back against the wall. “You just had to say that to me, didn’t you? So I’ll be thinking about you naked and in my bed while I’m on the field today.”

  “You’d have been thinking about me anyway.” She winked before disappearing inside.

  ****

  Getting changed in the locker room turned into twenty fucking questions from Rafe.

  What happened?

  Was Delaney cool?

  How’d she take to riding—wink wink.

  I couldn’t/wouldn’t tell him all but the basics. What? The fucker didn’t deserve the details considering he’d kept the secret about Peyton and Callum from me—from the whole team—for like a month. Besides, I couldn’t come right out and say shit about Delaney’s ex. Who wasn’t her ex. Yet. The fucking assmaggot.

  Then there was the bitch session from Coach Frank: