Sweet Spot: A Bad Boy Sports Romance (Bad Boys of Summer Book 2) (14 page)

I parted my knees and he buried himself between my legs. He entered me with a finger first, plunging into my pussy. I bucked wildly as he fingered me, teasing my g-spot until I was seeing stars.

“Baby, watch me, I want to look into those beautiful fuckin’ eyes while I eat you.”

My eyes fluttered open and locked onto his as he dipped his face down and took his first taste of me. His tongue flicked over my pussy, and I hissed against the flood of pleasure that danced over my skin like glittering fireworks were flashing and exploding over my body.

He plunged his mouth to me, licking, teasing, and sucking. A slight layer of scruff on his jaw scratched my tender skin and added a new layer of sensations to the ones provided by his lips and tongue and fingers as he explored and pleasured me.

With Trey, it was hard to hold back, and I climbed to an intense orgasm, the waves of warmth and tension rising and falling until I was clinging to the edge of heaven. Trey sucked my pussy between his lips at the same time he worked his finger on my g-spot and I lost my last remaining shred of decency. My hips went wild and out of control, rocking and bucking against his face. My hands gripped onto his strong shoulders and I was pulling him close and pushing him away all at the same time. I wanted more but needed a moment to breathe.

Trey slid up my body and applied his skilled lips to the side of my neck, kissing and licking at the bared skin as my head rolled against the pillow, still reveling in the aftershock. “Roll over, baby,” he whispered, his breath hot on my ear. I glanced over at him through heavily-lidded eyes and he grinned down at me. “Come on. You know you want to see where my dirty mind is going to take you next.”

I laughed, the sound husky. “Your mind does work in fantastic ways,” I replied, thinking of the way he’d lined us up last time so that I could watch him fucking me in the reflection on the window.

I rolled over onto my stomach and Trey grabbed my hips, raising them up, and forcing me onto my knees. I sighed as he stroked my pussy from behind and heard the sound of a condom wrapper ripping open. Seconds later, he was plunging into me and I gasped at the fullness. His finger circled my asshole and I nearly jumped out of my skin.

Trey gave a dark chuckle and circled the tight opening again. “Relax, baby. This is going to be good.”

He pulsed his thick shaft in and out of me until I was moaning his name and fisting the covers in my clenched hands. When he pressed the tip of his thick finger into me I flinched again but let him go without question. The sensation of being entered in both places was overwhelming and another orgasm built up fast and hot.

Trey groaned and thrust into me a little harder. “Come on, baby. Come for me. Come all over my cock.”

I groaned his name and pushed my ass up higher, begging for more. I was on the cusp and when his other hand slapped my ass cheek, we fucking collapsed over the moon together and everything inside of me clenched and let go all at once in an earth-shattering release.

Fuck.

Me.

White spots danced behind my eyes as I hit the top and then relaxed back down. I went limp and boneless, sagging down to the bed the moment Trey pulled out. He disappeared for a few minutes and I caught my breath alone in his bed. He returned with a massive grin on his face and climbed in behind me. He dragged me against his chest and I reveled in the warmth and comfort of his large body. “Told you to trust me,” he whispered in my ear. “I’ll only take you to nasty good places.”

I giggled. “I guess so…”

“No one’s ever played with your ass before?”

“No!” I said, laughing harder. “You say that like ‘you’ve never had cheddar flavored popcorn’ or something. Like it’s totally a
normal
thing.”

He laughed and I smiled and relaxed against him even more. His hand rested on my hip and he drew lazy circles on my sweat soaked skin. “It is normal, baby. Especially with an ass like yours. It’d be damn hard not to wanna play with it.”

“Good to know.” I laughed again and shook my head, unable to fully believe what was happening. Not only had I managed to wind up back in Trey’s bed, but we were talking kinky shit like old lovers.

I wiggled and Trey tightened his grip on my hips. “You’re not leaving. Not right now. I’m not done with you.”

I craned around to look at him. “You’re very demanding. Has anyone pointed that out to you before?”

He laughed. “Once or twice.”

“Uh huh.”

He kissed the bridge of my nose and the sweetness of the gesture melted away the rest of my argument. I settled down next to him and sighed deeply.

“What are you gonna do when we’re back in Oklahoma City?” he asked.

I shrugged. “I have no idea. I’m sure my boss will rip me a new one for screwing up the assignment. Then, if I still have a job, I’ll probably be put back on the coffee detail and go back to wishing I could quit.”

“Why don’t you?”

“Quit?”

“Yeah. I mean if you hate it so much and your boss is a prick who doesn’t respect you, why not walk?”

I laughed. “Because, Mr. Delgado, we’re not all rich, powerful sports stars. I have these pesky things called bills to pay every so often.”

He pinched at my sides. “I’m not a complete fuckin’ idiot, you know. I get that you have bills. But you could do anything. Why throw away your twenties on some shitty job you hate?”

“Isn’t that what most twenty-somethings do?” I teased, though, a study of my peers would show it was mostly true.

“You’re not like everyone else, Josie. You could do big things. You just need the right connections.”

“Well, thanks for the vote of confidence. But until I find those connections, I’m going to have to either cut my losses and go home with my tail tucked between my legs and ask for Daddy’s help—which I don’t want to do—or go back to waiting in line at Starbucks three times a day to keep my much more experienced co-workers caffeinated.”

Trey groaned. “I could—”

“No, no! Stop right there,” I interrupted, holding up a hand. I rolled away from him and flipped over to face him, covering my butt with the twisted top sheet. “I’m not taking anything from you, Trey.”

He frowned at me. “You’re stubborn.”

I laughed. “I know.”

He reached for me and tugged on my hip until I scooted over to him. He rolled me onto him and I straddled his hips. A smile formed on my lips as the hardness of his ready to go again cock rubbed against me. “Round two already?”

Trey grinned up at me. “Apparently your stubbornness is a turn on.”

* * * *

The next morning, Trey woke up early to catch his flight back to Oklahoma City. We said goodbye on the sidewalk outside of his hotel. He kissed me soft and slow, letting his thumb linger on the side of my face. “See you back home.”

“See ya,” I replied.

He took off at a slow jog across the parking lot to get onto the large charter bus that would take the team to the airport. I watched him go and then hurried to cross the street and went back inside my own hotel. I needed to get through the checkout process before seven in order to get to the airport on time for my own flight that was set to take off a couple of hours after the team’s private jet.

The bed was freshly made and I grinned at the memories made in Trey’s bed the night before. We’d gone at it every which way—which was probably the reason I was so damn stiff this morning—and when he finally conked out, I was so tired I could barely walk to the bathroom to brush my teeth. Once I was packed up, I called a cab, and then went downstairs, suitcase in tow, and went straight to the front desk to return my key card and sign off on the room.

My stomach growled as I waited in line for the next clerk to call me forward and I glanced around. The hotel didn’t have a restaurant but there was a small coffee cart over to the side of the lobby and there were a few bistro tables and chairs set out. I checked out and then went over to order a large coffee and a blueberry muffin. I glanced at my phone while waiting for the women working the cart to finish making my drink. As I waited, my thoughts went from the night with Trey to thinking about what was waiting for me back in Oklahoma City. I technically had the day off, for travel, but bright and early the following day, I’d be expected to meet with Mr. Jones first thing and get the final verdict on my trip.

“Here you go, Miss.” The coffee clerk passed my drink and warmed muffin over the side of the cart. I thanked her and took my snack to a table. The thought of meeting Mr. Jones got my stomach twisted up in knots but I forced a bite of muffin into my mouth. I knew I needed something to eat or I’d be even more miserable on the flight home.

Trey’s words from the night before echoed back to me. I knew I was destined to do bigger things than being the stations gopher. But I didn’t have any ideas for how to get from my current position to the reporting job of my dreams. It wasn’t something my professors had taught me in college. Which, in hindsight, seemed like a pretty big problem. It was an industry that was run by networking, where who you knew was more important than any actual talent. And as it stood, the only person I knew with sway in the industry was Mr. Jones. And he wasn’t going to be a glowing reference.

I sighed and chugged my coffee, hoping the caffeine jolt would lift my dark mood. I glanced around the busy lobby as people were checking out at the front desk, likely to go to the airport. My cab would probably be along shortly. I pulled my phone from my pocket. A flash of movement caught my attention and I glanced up to see two men settling in at a table a few feet away from mine. They were both wearing dark suites and sat so that they were turned away from the rest of the lobby. They spoke to one another in hushed tones. All at once, it hit me where I’d seen one of them from. The older of the two men was a senator from Oklahoma. What the hell was he doing in this dumpy hotel in Denver? And who was that sitting with him? Why did he also look familiar? Was he a politician as well?

I wasn’t a political fanatic in the least, but being an aspiring news reporter—I knew the players
and
the hot button issues. Who was the guy sitting with the senator? They both looked out of place in the low brow hotel lobby. The suits they were wearing were sharp and crisp, a stark contrast to the oatmeal colored walls and floor all around them.

As I watched, over the rim of my to-go cup, a stirring in my gut told me there was something going on. When the younger man turned my way, I ducked my chin and stared at my phone, feigning that I was engrossed with whatever was on the screen. When I dared to glance up again, the younger man was slipping an envelope in his breast pocket. Did the senator just give him an envelope? My heart pounded in my chest. There had to be a story here—but what? I had to figure out who that man was and why he looked familiar.

I held my phone up, fluffed at my tangled hair and acted like I was primping for a selfie, all the while, actually snapping bursts of pictures of the secretive-looking meeting. I prayed I caught a few good angles before my phone rang. The taxi I’d ordered was outside. My time was up.

The men stood up at the same time as I did, shook hands, and then took off in opposite directions like they were total strangers. I scurried out the front doors, tucked myself in the backseat of my cab, and immediately started flipping through the pictures. Three of them gave me face shots of each of the two men. I didn’t know why I was so engrossed by the meeting. But something told me that what I’d just witnessed was a piece to something bigger.

Something that smelled a lot like a story.

Trey

“You disappeared pretty damn fast last night, Delgado. You hook up with that reporter?”

I glanced up from my phone to see Robby Brown sliding into the empty seat across the aisle from mine. We’d been in the air for about an hour and I’d used the first leg to catch up on sleep since the night before with Josie wasn’t exactly restful. Not that I was complaining. Far from it. Every tired muscle and ounce of exhaustion was worth it. Being with Josie, watching her come undone was like a drug, and I was officially hooked.

“So what if I did?” I replied, dropping my attention back to my phone.

Robby chuckled. “Damn, man. I’m not the nookie police. I don’t care who you banged. She’s a hot little number. I don’t blame you.”

I eyed him. “Aren’t you married, Brown?”

“Engaged,” he corrected. “And Paris doesn’t care who I eye-fuck as long as I keep my dick in my pants.”

I considered him for a minute, wondering what kind of weird ass, open-marriage shit he was mixed up in. I passed off any judgment with a shake of my head. Open marriages were way more common than most people would think, especially in the sports world. There were plenty of chicks who’d cut your dick off for hooking up, but there were others more than willing to hand out hall passes—as long as they got whatever they wanted in return. I was about to turn away, go back to minding my own business, but paused long enough to flick a hard stare at him. “Well, I
do
care who you eye-fuck. At least as far as Josie is concerned. She’s mine.”

Robby just laughed. He crossed his legs at the ankle and leaned back in his reclining seat. “Fair enough, man. I just would advise you to not make out where photographers are lurking. Did you see the headlines on Pulse Sports today?”

“No…” I replied, a pit of dread forming in the bottom of my stomach. Pulse Sports was a popular sports gossip site, usually filled with the off-season antics of pro ballers. I’d made their front page more times than I could count. Especially in the last six months as my life spiraled out of control. “Why?”

“Check it out,” Robby replied, his eyes still closed as he settled in for a nap.

I flipped to the page on my phone and groaned.

“Yup…What did they say again? Delgado’s auditioning his next baby mama?” Robby laughed.

Sure enough, right there on the front page, a picture of Josie and me, tangled up together, right against the wall just a few feet from the postgame press table. Most of the shots were fuzzy, taken from too far away, with not enough light, but a couple of them were clear face shots of Josie. Beside the photos of us together, they had a picture of Josie that I’d never seen before. She was wearing a business suit and had her hair slicked back in an all business ponytail. It must have been something from the station where she worked. Then, the final picture was her wearing those damn cut off jean shorts and the boots the day we’d first met. The writer of the story—if it could be called that, it was more like a verbal shit on paper—was making the argument that Josie and I had been sneaking around for some time and that we were keeping it low profile to keep from upsetting my
delicate
situation involving the she-devil claiming to be my baby mama.