Stallion: A Bad Boy Sports Romance (6 page)

I’d submit totally. That would be the only way. Maybe his hands grab my arms and pin them above my head. Or maybe he grabs my thighs and spreads my legs open, taking me completely and fully, pushing every inch in, making me take it.

I need two fingers now.

My hand moves faster. I feel the swell of pleasure spreading out across my thighs, growing and growing as I press down. A moan escapes my lips, and I cover my mouth with my other hand. The cold water is doing nothing to cool the waves of heat flooding through me. My feet clench against the floor in each corner of the shower, and I brace my body against the wall, preparing myself for what’s about to come.

I can just feel him inside me, the heat from his body and the strength of his grip. I’m his. He’s taking me, stretching me, filling me and using me for his pleasure. He’s sweating now, and it’s dripping down onto my chest. His breathing is heavy, and I know he’s close.

So am I…

“I told you it would be incredible,” he’d say.

His body jerks, and he growls in my ear. I feel his cock twitch and shoot his hot cum deep inside me. It pushes me over the edge.

“Fuck!” I shout into my hand as I climax. My body shutters against the wall of the shower stall, and my legs shake so hard I almost collapse. It’s unlike anything I’ve felt before. The waves of pleasure just keep coming, and my hand moves faster and faster. I want to cry out. I want to scream his name.

Walker!

Finally, my body shudders one last time, and my hand slows. My heart is racing. Slowly, I reach out and turn the water as cold as it will get. I feel like there’s steam coming off my body I’m so hot right now. I can’t even remember the last time I fantasized like that.

“Chantel!?” A girl’s voice shouts from the door. “Is that you!?”

For a second, I don’t answer.
Did someone catch me masturbating in the shower?

“Chantel!?”

“No!” I shout back sheepishly. “Sorry!”

“Oh, okay…” the girl says, closing the door behind her.

Jesus, talk about a buzz kill!

As I open my eyes, the reality of my situation comes back to me, like a splash of cold water to the face – literally.

I have a boyfriend. I’m a reporter. Walker is a story. Fantasies like this can’t happen! That’s all he is – a fantasy, and one I can’t allow myself to have anymore. So what if just thinking about him resulted in the most intense orgasm I’ve had since I can remember?

Filled with a new determination, I shut the water off and grab my towel.

Focus. Focus
!

Tossing my hair aside, I stride quickly down the hall to my room. The door is cracked. Abbey must be home.
What do I tell her?
“You were right all along! Walker is totally sexy!” I can just see the smile on her face. Even if I hide it, she’ll know something’s up. Abbey has always said I have the worst poker face in the planet and that I should never gamble with real money because I’d go broke in ten minutes.

No choice. I have to come clean. Maybe she’ll have some advice for me – some advice that
doesn’t
involve sleeping with him.

“Okay, you can say it!” I say, pushing the door in. “I totally want to sleep with—“

My voice catches in my throat when I see. My boyfriend, Ronald, is standing there smiling in the middle of my room! He raises his eyebrows with a naughty grin on his face.

“Sleep with who? Me? I was hoping you’d say that.” He says in that voice he always puts on when he wants to be lovey-dovey.

Quickly, he moves towards me and wraps his arms around me.
What if I had finished that sentence
? I think as he pulls me close to him.

“I’m all wet,” I tell him, trying to back away. But he pulls me closer.

“Mmm, just what I like to hear.”

“No, you big goof!” I smile, slapping him jokingly on the chest and pulling away. “Not like that!”

“No?” He asks, raising his eyebrows inquisitively. He’s in a mood tonight. After eight hours of studying, this is usually how he gets. Sometimes it feels like I’m just a convenient way of blowing off steam for him. “Come on, baby. You know I have a big test tomorrow and I need to relax.”

Ronald is ready for his pre-test ritual he’s gotten so accustomed to, but the truth is that treating our love life like this has started to take its toll on me. I know he wants to go all the way, but I haven’t felt ready. I’ve learned how to use my hand to keep him happy, but I mean, it’s not exactly the most romantic thing in the world. Ronald is a clock watcher and a stickler for being on time, so our alone time has become scheduled, almost like another one of his classes that he has to make time for.

Whatever happened to spontaneity? Things have felt…cold between us when it does happen, and it just feels like there’s no spark anymore. And after what I just went through in the shower, the last thing I want right now is some robotic lovemaking session crammed in between Ronald’s last class and evening study session.

“Oh, baby,” I say. “I’m so sorry, I completely forgot. This isn’t exactly the best…time for me.”

Ronald’s face drops off, and I almost feel bad for a second, but when his face transforms into that of a toddler that just learned his mommy wasn’t giving him a second helping of juice before bed, that all goes away.

“Baby,” he whines. “You know how tense I get before my tests. Isn’t there
something
you can do?”

I can’t help but think of Walker. Would Walker ever beg for sexual favors from a girl? Doubtful.
Actually, Hell no!

If Walker wanted me badly enough right now he’d rip my towel off, throw me on the bed and take me. And I would love it. But this…it’s almost like I’d be doing Ronald a favor, and nothing could be less sexy.

“I’m sorry, honey,” I say, patting him gently on the arm. “It’s just not a good night.”

Any ounce of guilt I have is completely washed away when Ronald’s pouty face goes into overdrive and he starts to whine.

“What the Hell is your problem, Emmy?” He says angrily. “You know how important these tests are to our future. The least you could do would be help me out a little. I mean, this is the rest of our lives I’m talking about here!”

Ronald’s dramatic nature has hit an all-time high lately. While I do sympathize, his constant worrying and the enormous amount of pressure he puts on both of us has become incredibly stressful, and I just find myself wondering where the magic in our relationship has gone? Taking things seriously is one thing, but putting this much pressure on every little detail of our lives is another.

We don’t even really spend time together anymore, except for Ronald’s carefully scheduled visits. We don’t relax, we don’t watch movies, we don’t do couples stuff. Everything is so regimented. It’s like being in the Army or something.

“Can you not freak out, please?” I ask him.

Visibly upset, Ronald moves to speak, but stops himself, closes his eyes, takes a deep breath and straightens his shirt collar. No matter what day of the week it is, Ronald always makes sure he has a perfectly ironed dress shirt tucked into a pair of pleated khakis.

“Emmy? Baby?” He says, making every word sound like a question. “I don’t mean to upset you. I know my behavior is sometimes unsettling and I put a lot of pressure on you. But I see us as a team. A power couple. You understand? If we don’t work together on this, the consequences could be very severe.”

“I don’t have the energy to fight tonight, Ronald,” I tell him, pulling open the door of my closet and moving behind it before stripping off my towel. For some reason, I’m not comfortable being naked in front of him yet. I’m not sure if it’s guilt from all my thoughts about Walker, or just the fact that I know if he sees my naked body he’s just going to want it even more. And I just can’t do that tonight.

Quickly, I pull on my least sexy pajama bottoms and a baggy t-shirt.

“No one wants to fight, baby. I just want—“

“Hooooow’d it go?” I hear Abbey call as she storms into the room. “Did you succumb to his charms?!”

Abbey freezes when she sees Ronald standing angrily in the middle of the room. Assuming she’s speaking about him, Ronald puts both hands on his hips and replies.

“No. No she didn’t, Abbey.”

“Oh…” Abbey says slowly, chewing over the word, trying to get a handle on the situation. I shoot a look her way that says
Oh, God. Save me!
Quickly, her whole demeanor changes. “Well, I had an
awful
night. I can’t even begin to tell you! Like, the
worst
! I just want to lay down and die.”

Pushing her way past Ronald, Abbey tosses her arms around me and hugs me like an oversized teddy bear. “I should have just stayed in with you tonight.”

“Well,” Ronald pouts. “I can see where this is going. I guess I’ll just leave you two alone, and hopefully this doesn’t impact my performance tomorrow!”

Without waiting for a response, Ronald turns on his heels and paces quickly from the room. Abbey listens as his footsteps echo down the hall. As soon as the door to outside opens, she pulls our door shut and locks it.

“What’s with him?” She asks.

“Ugh. I don’t know,” I say, sighing and covering my face with my hands. “He’s upset he’s not getting his pre-test handie tonight.”

“Oh…” Abbey says, sounding disgusted. “Is that like you guys’ ritual or something?”

“It’s become that,” I sigh. “It’s just so—“

“Completely unsexy?” She says, finishing my sentence.

“Exactly! I mean, I’m just supposed to schedule it into my day like an appointment or something. How unromantic is that?”

“About as sexy as making out after eating garlic and asparagus,” Abbey replies, making me grimace. “But let’s be honest. You turned him down for another reason, didn’t you?”

“What do you mean?” I say, remembering her comments about my poker face. Uh oh. There interrogation is coming.

“Don’t be coy!” Abbey says, inching forward towards me like a leopard stalking its prey. “I can read you like a book! You’re glowing!”

“I am not!”

“You are too! You banged Walker Johnson!”

“I did not bang Walker Johnson!” I say indignantly. I knew this was coming, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.

“Admit it!” She shouts, leaping to her feet and pointing a finger in my face.

“I will not!” I shout back. “Didn’t happen. Not gonna admit to something that didn’t happen.” I cross my arms defiantly in front of my chest, blowing a stray hair out of my face.

“Hmmm,” Abbey says, examining me like a detective, inching closer, peering at me through squinted eyes. “But he tried to, didn’t he?”

I remain silent, not giving her anything to go on. I’m certainly not going to tell her what I thought of his body…

“So he tried to, like I’d expected. But you held out. But you’re glowing…” She twists her lip in concentration. Then a look of realization comes over her face, which slowly morphs into a smile. She’s got it. I brace myself. “You rubbed one out to him!”

How is it possible that Abbey knows me so well? Am I that transparent? Caught, I hang my head defeated.

“You should have just boned him!”

“No, I shouldn’t have just
boned
him!” I reply, doing my best to look angry. “I don’t just…
bone
people. He’s the subject of my story, Abbey.”

“And you have a boyfriend,” she says.

“Yes. I have a boyfriend,” I repeat. “You don’t have to remind me.”

“Well, you could have boned your boyfriend and pretended it was Walker Johnson,” she says with a naughty wink.

“Oh my God, Abbey!” I laugh. What a whirlwind tonight has been, and all because of Peter and his stupid story.

I have a boyfriend. But Walker Johnson…Walker Johnson wants me…

T
hat babe
from the Tribune has me all twisted. I’d wanted her from the second I saw her, and it messed my whole night up not getting with her. I’d turned down a girl named Sandy, who had straight, bleached blonde hair and a boob job, because I couldn’t get that reporter girl out of my head.

I lean back on my bed, staring at the ceiling, thinking hard, trying to shake off last night. I’m pretty beat, but that’s nothing new. What
is
new, is this girl running through my mind.

The whole house still smells like the party, but that’s nothing new. What I can’t get away from is the memory of her scent.
Boy, she smelled good
. I don’t know if it was perfume, deodorant, a combination of both, or just
her
. But either way, I like it.

What was her name? Emily? Emilia?

Emmy! Emmy. That was it. Emmy with the great rack. And boy was it great. She doesn’t even know how great her rack is, and that makes it almost hotter. You can tell she has no idea how to dress to her strengths either. I mean what was that outfit? She’s like a supercharged V8 engine in a car some idiot painted puke green and pink. Most guys would overlook the whole car and not even take a peek under the hood – but I’m not most guys.

I can see potential.

My cock had strained against the fly of my jeans the minute she turned around. But why the Hell didn’t she come upstairs with me? She obviously knows who I am. I mean, she’s been assigned to do a story on me. So what’s the deal? I can’t even remember the last time a girl didn’t respond to my game. Hell, half the time I don’t even have to run any game at all. Usually “Hey, I’m Walker Johnson” is enough. Then it’s down to business. And I never disappoint.

But she turned me down. And not just once.

I mean, she didn’t even look happy to be doing a story on me. Does she
really
know who I am? A story on me could get her foot in the door for sports reporting at a high level. I mean Hell, maybe once I get into the big leagues I toss her an interview every now and then. Or maybe, depending on her skills as a writer, I make her my exclusive go to reporter. Imagine what that could do for a career!

Whatever
,
she’s probably one of those snobby chicks that thinks she’s better than everybody
.

But seriously. When was the last time a chick turned me down? Freshman year of high school probably. No one knew what a star I was yet. I was just another fourteen-year-old kid at that point. But then the season started. I caught my first thirty-yard pass and got our team the first win of the season, and my popularity was off to the races.

Even senior girls were hitting on me. It was insane. All the guys started hating on me until they realized that just by hanging out with me, the spillover would get them all drowning in chicks. By my sophomore year, I was the coolest guy in the whole school, and by senior year? Forget about it. I was a superstar.

Being nicknamed the Stallion before your eighteenth birthday, and having every girl know what the name refers to, is something most guys can only dream of. Jessie Meryl, the Queen Bee of South Houston High, actually asked me out. It didn’t last long, and I ended up making my way through her three best friends. None of them seemed to care. In fact, I think they secretly joked about it.

That’s just how good I am.

And now, here I am. I’m the collegiate star with a fast lane ticket to the NFL, and some snooty reporter from the Tribune is going to turn me down? I mean, what’s her history like? Probably zero. Wouldn’t even surprise me if she was a virgin by the way she dresses. Most guys wouldn’t recognize the potential in a girl like that. I mean, she doesn’t have any clue how to make herself look nice, but I know that once you got her naked, everything would change.

The guys on the team don’t have an eye for women. They go for the typical blonde with the big tits and the tan, because that’s the kind of girl everyone expects them to date. I mean, I’ll fuck those chicks too, but I’ve got a more discerning eye when it comes to the female form. They’re like ice cream, and I like all flavors.

Emmy…
is that her name?
Well, she’s like the mystery flavor in the corner of the freezer that’s made by some company you’ve never heard of. The packaging looks like crap, and it’s probably got some stupid name like Elephant Batter or something, and so everyone grabs the name brand stuff with the flashy packaging that all their friends like.

But little do they know, that flavor in the corner they ignored is really the best flavor in the freezer.

And the best part about Emmy, is that she doesn’t even know it.

The look on her face when I told her she had a great rack? Priceless. And she does too. Whoever spilled that beer on her did me a solid. I mean, those babies are perfect. I’d love to get my hands, and lips, around those things. The fact that she didn’t dress to show them off somehow turns me on even more.

She wasn’t dressed like a slut, which is the typical college party uniform. The fewer clothes the better is the generally accepted rule, and some girls take it to the extreme, showing up in “bikini bottoms” that are really just a g-string, and nipple pasties with a Colt hat. Heels too. Emmy would look fucking fantastic from behind with a pair of heels on.

But she was dressed like a reporter. I mean, you can tell she takes her job seriously. She doesn’t want to be unprofessional, and that turns me on. What would be hotter than getting up in the middle of an interview, taking her pen, taking her notebook, lifting her up off her chair and bending her over the desk?

Would she wear a skirt to our interview if I gave her one?

Whatever. Even if she wore pants, that wouldn’t slow me down. I’d rip those babies open in half a second and have them down to her knees before she knew what hit her. I’d run my hand up her shirt and cup those breasts and lean in and let her feel my erection against her ass, ready to burst out of my jeans.

I’d grab her tightly, nibble her ear and whisper, “You want this?”

She’d hesitate, but then she’d nod and reply softly, “Yes.”

I’d be fully hard by then, and unzip my fly and press my cock against her ass, letting her feel all of what she was about to get. She might take a deep breath before I slid inside her.

Shit, I’m getting horny just thinking about this! I might have to rub one out real quick…

I do need a shower, so I toss my clothes and wrap myself, and my semi, in a towel and head for the shower. I’m getting all boned up at just the
thought
of banging this girl out. I can’t even imagine what it would be like to get the real thing from her.

I crank the water on hot, hang my towel on the hook and step into the shower. Walker Junior’s already at half mast, and picturing what Emmy’s tits would look like bouncing back and forth while I fucked her from behind, is just putting fuel on the fire.

I wish she was here right now
, I think, taking my hard cock into my hand. I’m already dripping precum, and I spread it over my shaft, using it as lubricant as I start stroking.

First she would suck me
, I think. Then I’d go down on her. I don’t go down on most chicks. In fact, I don’t go down on
any
chicks that aren’t my girlfriend, and seeing as I haven’t had one of those in years, I haven’t had my face between a girls thighs in a long time.

But I’d show Emmy how talented my tongue is.

I bet she tastes as sweet as she smells. I wonder if an uptight girl like her does any maintenance down there. A nice shave or waxing makes my job a whole lot easier, but I can’t picture her doing that sort of thing. Probably thinks it’s gross or weird or something.

Whatever
.

Just watching her face as I made her cum on my tongue would be worth it. Even if she’s the most uptight girl in the world in the sack, I’d still get her there. I’m as talented with my tongue as I am with a football, and we all know when it comes to the field, I’m an all star, so imagine what it’s like when my tongue decides it’s time to perform.

My cock is at full attention as I picture myself between her legs. First I’d make her cum, and then I’d slide my dick inside her.

I can’t wait to see her reaction
.

That’s the best part – seeing their faces when I stick it in. But it would be all the more worth it on Emmy with her uptight ass. No matter how hard she’d try to deny it, her face would say it all. She’d love it. She
will
love it.

I stroke my cock faster, thinking of pounding her from behind on my bed. I’ll slide my hands underneath her and cup her breasts, squeeze them and feel them rock back and forth as I slam her.

It will hurt. My cock is bigger than anything she’s ever had before, I guarantee it. And it will take her some getting used to. But once she’s broken in, she’ll never want anyone else again. I’ll ruin her for any other man.

When she cums on my cock, I’ll bury all my inches inside her and hold it there, feeling each contraction in her pussy. Maybe I’ll nibble on her ear and neck and talk dirty to her.

I can feel myself getting close as I picture her ass jiggling as I slam her. I’ll spank her and fuck her hard and show her what a real man is.

I’m close and jack myself faster until I finally cum, spraying a huge load all over my hand.

“Fuck,” I groan, trying not to be too loud.
I came a lot!

That’s how you know it’s a good fantasy. Normally when I jack off, it’s a quick one and done, but this time I find I’m still semi-hard, and I consider going for round two. But I hear a knock at my bedroom door.

“The fuck—” I stammer. “Who is it?”

“Your mother!” A voice shouts back, followed by a chuckle.
What the fuck!?

“Hang on!” I shout, quickly washing my hands. What a time for a knock. First I don’t get to bang this girl, and then my jerk session is interrupted? What’s next?

I shut the water off and grab my towel. Pissed off at being interrupted, I stride quickly to the door.
Is that Jared? It must be Jared.
I just about rip the door off his hinges.

“Jared, what the—“

But it’s not Jared. It’s Benny, and he’s laughing his ass off.

“Sup, chief?” He smiles, tossing me a comical salute.

“Jesus, Benny,” I sigh. “I was about to rip your head off. What the Hell are you doing here? Who let you in?”

“Let me in? Have you been downstairs yet today? It’s like a warzone down there. Your front door looks like an angry bear charged through it.”

“Oh,” I say, scratching my head. “That makes sense. But yeah, still. What the Hell are you doing here?”

“Christ, you’re dense, Johnson,” Benny says with a smirk, knowing he’s the only one alive I’d let get away with talking to me like that. “I’m here to save your ass from failing out of school. Remember?”

Shit, I forgot!
A hard night of partying will do that to you, and I’ve had nothing on my mind but Emmy since she walked out of the house in a huff. I wonder if she tutors? That’d be a great way to get us two together. Of course, then all I’d do is spend my time trying to get in her pants. Coach probably figured that and that’s why he assigned Benny.

“Can’t this wait, Benny?” I ask him. “I haven’t even eaten yet.”

Benny reaches into his bag and pulls out a sandwich wrapped in foil. “Like meatballs? Come on, I bet you do! All you jocks love a nice meaty ball.”

I can’t help but laugh and shake my head as I take the sandwich from Benny. This guy really does come prepared. It’s no wonder he’s in the top of our graduating class.

“I like you, Benny,” I tell him, tossing a shirt on. “Turn around a sec, will you? I don’t want you getting a glimpse of my dick and jumping on me.”

“In your dreams, champ,” Benny says. But he turns around, and I toss my towel and slide into my boxers and a pair of shorts. “All right.”

I snag the sandwich and start unwrapping the hot foil and getting a whiff of spicy marinara and fresh meatballs. “Why can’t you have nice tits and a fat ass, Benny?”

“Hey, I’m working on my figure here,” he says with a laugh, pulling out a bunch of books from his bag. “What do you want to start with first—?”

“Do you know a girl named Emmy?” I say, interrupting him.

“Do I know a girl named Emmy? You know how big this school is?”

“She works for the Tribune. Nice rack. Snooty little attitude?”

Benny grins and shakes his head. “What’d she do? Blow you off?”

“Hey!” I say, glaring at him as I take a big bite of the sandwich, which is actually fucking amazing. I may have found a new hangover meal. “Nobody blows off Walker Johnson.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Benny says, chuckling to himself. “Then why do you need to know if I know her? Couldn’t you just go over to her and bang her or whatever?”

“Didn’t get a chance to,” I say quietly, stuffing another bite into my mouth. “She ran outta here before I could get her upstairs.”

“Listen, man. Not all girls are vulnerable to a charming smile. Trust me. I’d know.”

Benny really is a good guy. If he had an athletic bone in his body, I could probably convince the rest of the guys on the team to hang out with him, but this guy can’t even throw a stick for a corgi, let alone play an organized sport. He’s also got a bit of an arrogance that comes across from being so smart, and if you’re dumb as a box of rocks, like most of the guys on the team, he can come off as a bit of a dickhead.

Benny snaps his fingers in front of my face, and I realize I’ve been staring into space like an idiot, marinara sauce dripping down my chin.

“This girl really did a number on you, huh?” Benny laughs. “What’s this bitch got a golden pussy or something!?”

I know he’s joking – just trying to bust my balls, but for some reason I snap.

“Hey! Shut the fuck up, man! You don’t even know this chick!”

Benny recoils and frowns at me like he doesn’t even know me. My blood is practically boiling. Am I already getting possessive of this chick that I’ve only met once and haven’t even slept with? Possessive is not even a word in my vocabulary when it comes to chicks.

No promises. No commitments.