Tackled (Alpha Ballers #1) (18 page)

Having Drake’s cock back inside me was amazing. He stayed like that, moving his hips back and forth from side to side, making me groan with pleasure. I cried out when he softly bit my nipples.

Once I’d gotten used to having his length back inside me Drake started to thrust in and out, slowly at first, but picking up speed. I didn’t even need to do anything except push back with my lower body as he moved in and out of me. I lay there with my eyes closed, feeling every sensation, only opening them to watch Drake fuck me.

I felt a second orgasm building up inside me and threatening to shatter me, just after I’d finished rebuilding myself from the first one. I wallowed in it, let it come, making no attempts to hide it.
 

“Fuck me, Drake, fuck me. I’m cumming again, oh,” was all I could say, and I wasn’t even sure if the words made sense by the time they left my lips. I was a mass of need and lust and sensation and sparks and when I came the second time, I was overwhelmed, arching my back and moaning like I was having a seizure.

Drake slowed down as I came down from the haze of my orgasm. Within a minute he was just lying there inside me, holding himself above me and kissing my breasts and neck. I finally came back to lucid consciousness.

Drake moved over to the side and I felt his cock leave me, but instead of feeling the loss of emptiness I felt him scoop me up in his arms and pull me close.

We lay there for a long time, without speaking, just feeling the rise and fall of each other’s chests, breathing and being one. Drake’s cock, still hard, pressed against me.

Almost without thinking about it, I started pushing myself back and forth against Drake, feeling his cock getting even harder as I moved.
 

As if reading my mind, he grunted and I felt his large hands gripping my waist. The next thing I knew I wasn’t on his side anymore; he’d rolled me on top of him. I spread my legs over his torso and sank down on to his cock.

I closed my eyes in bliss as my pussy got used to the deeper penetration this angle allowed us. I could feel my heavy breasts swinging in front his face, and every so often he’d raise his head up to suck on my nipples for a second, making me cry out softly each time. My hands moved to Drake’s chest for stability and I pressed down on his hard muscles, pushing my fingers into them as if to make myself believe they were really there.

When I opened my eyes I looked down on him watching me, his face placid yet intent. One of his hands was on my waist, guiding me as I raised and lowered myself onto his cock. With every press down he seemed to go deeper in to me, and each time I was moaning with pleasure. I tried to push down on him further each time, not satisfied with gravity alone. His other gripped my ass.

SMACK! The hand on my ass reached back and slapped me there. I gasped, not at all expecting that after how calm and regular our lovemaking had been just now. I smiled back at him; of course he knew I would let him do anything he wanted to me.

Drake grinned and I leaned over to let him play with my tits with his mouth, the heavy globes dangling tantalizingly in front of him. He smiled and started licking my nipples, switching between the two and moaning himself as I yelped in pleasure. His mouth was wonderful no matter where it landed on me. I couldn’t get enough of it.

I kept riding Drake like that, hunched over him to keep my breasts in his mouth, while he lifted me up and down on his cock, holding me above him every so often and not letting me lower myself further till I mewled in frustration.

“Lily,” he moaned, “oh Lily, you feel amazing.” My spirits soared, I loved hearing him talk like this. “I’m going to cum soon.”

“Mmm, yes, Drake, cum for me.” Just hearing me say that must have triggered something in him, because Drake came almost immediately, and I felt his cum filling the condom as his cock spasmed inside me. I went over the edge too, cumming for the third time in an hour.

I collapsed on top of him and felt his arms wrap around me. “Oh, Lily,” he whispered, “that was wonderful. You’re the best.”

We drifted off to sleep.

I woke up the next morning and Drake was gone, as I expected. I spent a little extra time in bed lying there and daydreaming about having him back here with me, running my hands over his strong muscles, trying to keep him close to me, enveloping me.

It was a nice morning. I hummed around my room, thinking about Drake. What I had thought originally to be a fling at training camp was starting to look like a lot more to me. Not only was I thinking about Drake’s body, but also how much I enjoyed being around him when we actually had clothes on.

It was…overwhelming, to say the least.

When I got to practice, though, things seemed a bit different. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it at first, but something was…off.

The weather was fine, it was sunny and warm as expected. The players were all accounted for, no one missing. None of those were the problem.

Yet it felt like there was a buzz around the complex, like something had changed. I tried to get a sense from talking to random people about it, but everyone just blanched and stepped away from me when it came up.

What was going on?

My heart sank. Did someone see Drake sneaking out of my room this morning? Shit, was that it? If that’s what had happened, I was fucked.

This would become a huge scandal and there was no way I would keep my job. Drake might get off with just a light reprimand, but as a journalist there was no way I should ever have gotten involved with the player I was covering.

Shit. What would my dad think?!

I needed to get to the bottom of this, but I couldn’t exactly disrupt practice and wave all the players down, and ask them what was going on. Nah, I had to find an inside source.

I found a staff member who I had talked to a couple times on background for the daily Drake Rollins stories and point blanked asked her what was going on, why was the facility buzzing like this?

“You mean you haven’t heard the rumor?”

“No,” I said, playing dumb for real, because for real I had no idea what was going on. “I haven’t heard the rumor, what is it?”

She stepped in close. “There’s a rumor going on that you slept with-“

OH SHIT.

“-Bill Thompson, to get your current job.”

Wait. WHAT?

I could feel the blood rushing through my ears, and it was tough to hear anything else around me for a few seconds.

“With Bill Thompson? Ew.”

“That’s what I thought when I heard it, but I couldn’t say that loud enough for some of these jackals. It’s not true, is it?”

“Of course not, never in a million years. I’d like to think if I was going to sleep my way into a job I’d have better taste, damn.”

“That’s what I thought!”

I thanked her and walked away. Shit, what was I going to do?

Then it hit me. I knew where this rumor came from.

It came from Annie Fucking Ross. It must have. This was exactly the kind of low down bull shit that Annie Ross would pull in order to get ahead.

Which was almost laughable because why would a nationally recognized TV reporter for ESPN need to tear down a lowly junior sports reporter from the Boston Globe? Talk about petty.

I remembered former Secretary of State Madeleine Albright’s words, that ‘there was a special place in hell for women who tore down other women,’ or words to that effect, and I tried to let the frustration and pain of Annie’s rumor wash over me and through me, knowing karma would have something to say about that in the long run.

It wasn’t easy, by any stretch.

I went back to practice and watched, holding my head up high and taking notes like I belonged there, because fuck it, I really fucking belonged there. I had earned this position and I was going to do it to the best of my abilities until the Boston Globe told me my services were no longer necessary, and if Annie Fucking Ross wanted to get in my way, then so be it.

I heard whispers all throughout practice and heard voices behind me, turned up in my direction. Ugh, this place really was just like high school. On the one hand I wanted to run away and hide, and on the other hand, I knew I had to stand there and pull up my big girl pants and just take it, because rumors like these could not bring me down.

If I had had a third hand with which to do things I would have walked right up to Annie Ross and slapped that smug smile off her face. I just knew it was her. Mainly because I remembered something else. At that summer journalism program at Johns Hopkins University two summers ago, it was Annie Ross who had slept with a professor in order to boost her grades.

I had remembered her boasting about it, but back then I didn’t have the courage to say anything to anyone about it, and I had let the matter drop. Somehow now I wish I hadn’t done so.

She would get what was coming to her, though, I knew that. That knowledge kept me standing there on the sidelines while everyone talked. I wanted to be anywhere else, but this was my job, and I had to watch practice, take notes for my daily column, and interview Drake when practice was done.

After the coaches let everyone out and the players dispersed, taking off their pads and walking back to the locker room to shower and go home, or stayed on and stretched out or played a little catch between friends, Drake jogged over to me.

He was covered in sweat, but the glint in his eyes and the smile on his face that normally came when he was done with practice was nowhere to be found.

“Everyone’s talking,” he said before I even had a chance to open my mouth.

“So I’ve heard.” I was surprised at how tired I sounded, given that Drake was the one who had just run around on a field in full pads for 2 hours.

“Is it true?”

My jaw nearly hit the ground. I actually reached up and checked to make sure it was still attached.

“Did you really sleep with Bill Thompson to get this job?” His voice was laced with disappointment.

Holy shit, Drake believed the rumor. He actually believed I had slept with someone to get this job instead of earning it the right way, with hard work and skillful writing craft honed over years of practice.

I could stand it from the rest of the staff, even the rest of the players, even if the rumor was totally false. I wasn’t here to cover them yet, I was here to focus on Drake Rollins.

But if Drake actually believed those lies Annie was telling about me, I didn’t know what more I could do here.

The tears came quick, and they were sharp. “You actually believe that shit Annie spews?” I choked out, before the tears overwhelmed me, and I ran away, back to my room, as fast as I could, and threw myself on my bed.

CHAPTER 20 - DRAKE

Lily’s reaction to my honest question threw me off, and I didn’t know what to do. I wanted to chase after her, but something told me I couldn’t do that. Maybe it was everyone standing around watching our little dustup, but something kept me standing there in one place.

I figured she needed her space, so I stayed away from her for a little while. I couldn’t help but keep thinking about her, though. In just a short amount of time, I realized that Lily Pearson had taken up residence in my head. Whenever I thought about something she was always there, and I wanted her to approve of my decisions. I wanted to show her I could be a good enough man to be with her, even when that got tough.

Unfortunately I had problems of my own to deal with. The football side of my life, what should have been the most important thing, really the only thing, I had going on at the time, was not getting any better.

Mike Sampson was still making me look bad in camp. I was getting more balls thrown my way, and I was even catching more and more of them, but still Lance Parker and Mike Sampson had this connection thing going on that I just couldn’t match.

Whenever Parker found Sampson on a route, they would connect, like they were reading each other’s minds, it was eerie.

I knew Sampson and I could both make the team, but every wide receiver spot was precious, and there were other returning veterans that had claims on other spots, so every single one of them counted, and I needed to make sure I was 1 of the 7 or so wide receivers the Patriots carried on the roster into the regular season.

I couldn’t go back to my earlier life - there was nothing left there for me, so I had to make this work - I had no choice.

I tried asking Lance Parker about it, considering that he and I were roommates and all, but he was almost never around, always in meetings or out on the practice field with his buddies. The guy was a machine. I couldn’t help but admire his work ethic, even if it meant we barely said two words to each other.

Finally, just after the second preseason game, one in which I caught all three of the targets he sent my way, I sat him down in our room. I straight out asked him if he had it out for me, if there was some unknown beef between us, something getting the way of him sending the ball in my direction more often.

Lance took it all in stride, swearing up and down that he was just following the playbook, going through his reads and making the calls that gave the team the best chance to win the game.

It was really frustrating to talk to him because it made me feel dumb, like I was the one not on the same page, like I was the one who needed to work harder. So that’s what I fucking decided to do, right then and there. I told Lance Parker I was gonna be his best target from here on out, and that we were gonna win a championship together.

Lance said he liked my guts, then he fell back against his pillow and was snoring loudly inside of 3 minutes.

Gee, thanks, roomie. Good talk. We would remember this one someday.

The next few days were rough. I stayed out of the way, working on memorizing the routes and running them whenever I had a free moment. I talked with the coaches, coaxing any more tips I could get out of them.

All of it made me feel really good about the next preseason game. Though there were 4 preseason games each year for each team, the third one is by far the most important. The last one was so close to the start of the regular season that most teams blow it off. So the third one was the biggest chance for an on the bubble player like me to shine, to show off, to make the big play and secure himself a roster spot.