Blitzed by the Brit: A Secret Baby Sports Romance (36 page)

“
W
hen are
your parents getting here?” Barton asked, as Joey started climbing up his leg. He hadn’t been picked up by his daddy in five minutes and was getting restless. Barton bent over and lifted him high into the air, holding him above his head while Joey laughed and squealed.

“They were supposed to be here an hour ago, so who knows. You think we have enough snacks for the kids?”

“There’s plenty, honey. Stop stressing about the food. Clyde’s bringing loads of beer, and May’s been cooking all weekend. She’s been waiting for this day for a long time.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t get to consecutive Super Bowls in future.”

“I know, I really should stop being so awesome.”

I shook my head, but smiled as Barton blew raspberries into Joey’s belly. Joey screamed at the top of his tiny lungs. It was a noise only a parent could love, although I loved it a lot less when Claire was napping.

Sure enough, a crying sound soon came through the baby monitor.

“Your turn,” I commanded.

“I have this one,” Barton protested, holding up the screaming culprit.

I took hold of Joey, who was a little reluctant to leave his daddy until I passed him a cookie. Alright, so I wasn’t going to be winning mother of the year any time soon.

“Off you go. And don’t go getting her all excited.”

Barton was the greatest dad to our kids I could ever have hoped for—except when you wanted the damn things to sleep. He traveled a lot, so when he was at home, all he wanted to do was play with them. And all I wanted to do was watch him play with them. It lit up my heart every time.

“Hey, Kristi,” Tasha called out from the doorway. “Do I smell barbecued chicken?”

Tasha came straight into the kitchen holding her six-month-old baby which she quickly passed off to Clyde when she saw the food I’d prepared earlier.

“Damn, this stuff is good,” Tasha said with a mouthful of chicken.

“Don’t eat it all. I want some of it left for the game.” I left Tasha with the food and headed straight to my adorable little nephew. “Hello, you,” I said, in my best baby voice. Clyde passed Sam over to me, still holding him like something precious that might break at any moment. Barton and I had been like that with Joey, but by the time Claire arrived, we passed her around freely just to get a rest. Yeah, not the best parents, I guess.

I rubbed my nose against Sam until he laughed and blew spit bubbles. Clyde watched over me intently. This kid was going to be spoiled rotten. Tasha had gotten pregnant at almost exactly the same time as I had with Joey, but she’d lost the baby. A girl. She would have been born around the time of the Super Bowl, so this week was always tough for them. The loss had led to Clyde and Tasha splitting up for about six months, but they found their way back together. They loved each other, and I knew that love like that had a way of keeping people together.

Barton brought Claire out of her room, having failed to get her back to sleep. He pretended that he’d tried, but he forgot I could listen in over the baby monitor. If I hadn’t known better, I would’ve sworn he’d woken her up on purpose. Big softie.

“What happened in the playoffs, man?” Clyde asked Barton. “I had money on you guys.”

“You should have said something. I’d have tried harder if I knew you stood to lose twenty dollars.”

“He’s still a little sensitive about it,” I pointed out to Clyde.

“You’ve already got one ring, and been to two Super Bowls,” Clyde pointed out. “That’s more than most people get to accomplish.”

Despite having known Barton most of his life, Clyde really did have a habit for saying the wrong things.

“I need at least two rings,” Barton said. “One for each of the kids. Otherwise there’s going to be one hell of a fight between them when I die.”

“Mom and Dad here yet?” Tasha asked. “And where are May and Lance?”

“May and Lance are going to be late. The kids deflated the neighbor’s tires last night, so they have some damage control to do.”

“Damn, those kids are a handful.”

“Yeah, they make ours look like tame by comparison. Mom and Dad are....” The doorbell rang and my parents walked in. “Here, apparently.”

Mom and Dad shouted out “hello” but made an immediate beeline for their grandchildren, who quickly got smothered with attention. My parents didn’t care about football, and only watched the games that Barton played. They were here to keep the kids busy while the adults got a little tipsy.

As we gathered in the living room, I did what I always did when my entire family was together; I cried. Only a little. I could usually hide it from everyone except Tasha. Our life wasn’t perfect, but it felt damn close sometimes. It wasn’t the expensive vacations, or the VIP treatment that made me realize that. It was this moment every year—or every other year—when the family gathered to watch a game that I still didn’t much care for.

“Cheers everyone,” May said, just as the game was about to start. “Let’s hope we’re not all here next year.”

“Cheers.”

“
C
laire’s asleep
, but Joey is trying to stay awake,” Barton said, as he crawled into bed. “He thinks he’s missing all the fun.”

“We’ve all gone to bed,” I replied.

“I know, but he thinks we’re just tricking him and that we’re all going to go back out and party once he’s asleep.”

“Like I have the energy for that.”

“Yeah, me too. Playing football doesn’t prepare you for long days with the family.”

Barton wrapped his arm around my shoulder and brought me in close to him. Resting my head on his chest felt as special now as it always had done.

“Is it bad that a part of me doesn’t want you to play at the Super Bowl next year, just so we can do this again?”

“We’ll make an effort to do this more often,” Barton replied. “I love getting the kids together. Besides, you know the deal. A Super Bowl ring for each kid. I’m not stopping until I get that second one.”

I sighed. “In that case, I might have some bad news. You might have to win three Super Bowls.”

“You want a ring too?”

“No, honey, I don’t want a ring.” I paused while I waited for Barton to catch up.

“Oh. Oh crap.”

“Good ‘oh crap’ or bad ‘oh crap?’

“Good ‘oh crap.’ Definitely good.”

“What will we name it?” I asked. Joey and Claire had been easy choices—we named them after Barton’s parents.

“What about Leona?” Barton suggested.

“You’d better be joking.”

“Without her, we wouldn’t be together now.”

“Not Leona,” I insisted. “Not unless you’re happy with Milton for a boy.”

“Good point.” Barton smiled and looked at me longingly. “I love you, baby.”

“I love you too.”

Barton kissed me on the lips and rubbed his hand softly over my pregnant belly on the way down to the warmth between my legs. That night he reminded me how we’d conceived child number three in the first place.

T
he only thing
hurting worse than my head was my neck.

I tried to sit up, but my left arm was numb and wouldn’t move from the bed.

The sun shone brightly through cheap curtains, blinding me and sending pain shooting through my head in the process. I recognized the nasty blue fabric covering the windows. I was in student halls again.

I looked down and saw the reason for my numb left arm and bad neck.

“Hey, sexy,” a petite young blonde said, with the sweet innocence that only eighteen-year-olds could pull off. She was lying on my left arm, although to be fair she didn’t have a lot of choice. Why did universities insist on putting single beds in student dorms? It was rather inconsiderate to those of us who like to screw students and then get a good night’s sleep after.

Despite the headache, her perky tits captured my attention immediately, just as they had done last night in the bar. They weren’t huge, but they were tender and her tiny, pale brown nipples had my mouth watering. She’d had them on display last night; I’d always been a sucker for a pert set of titties.

I winced as I pulled my arm out from under her neck, while trying to remain perched on the edge of the tiny bed. Not an easy feat for a guy of my size, although at least she didn’t need a lot of room.

“Hey, gorgeous,” I replied with a smile. At least we weren’t using names, because I sure as shit didn’t know hers.

Now I just needed to extricate myself from this situation without leaving behind a trail of tears. I never used to care how I left things, but now I had to worry about my reputation.

The news will be out in two weeks. Maybe less. We’re just fact checking now. I hope you’re ready
.

That email still haunted me in my sleep. At least the journalist had given me a head’s up. That was decent of her. She didn’t have to do that, but I’d left her with pleasant memories from the night we’d spent together. See, it paid to sleep around; it was my way of developing contacts.

Knowing in advance didn’t help much though. I just had two more weeks of freedom before ‘my life got flipped—turned upside down’ Fresh Prince style.

“What do you study?” she asked. Just those few words helped me pinpoint her as probably being local to Yorkshire. Or perhaps Manchester. Two years of living in York after moving up from Berkshire, and I still couldn’t distinguish northern accents. I could identify people from Liverpool, Hull, and Newcastle, but everything else tended to mesh into one. I was a typical southern fairy in that regard.

“I’m not a student,” I replied.

And thank God for that.
Students were fun for fucking, but I couldn’t bear to be around them for more five minutes of conversation. They were either frustratingly full of ambition, or just flat-out pretentious.

Fortunately, the females of the species liked to let their hair down in the evenings. Hair down, and legs open: just how I liked them.

“I need to be in class in an hour,” the blonde said, as her fingers tickled my chest. “That leaves us plenty of time for some more fun.”

Normally I wouldn’t. I’d already fucked this little plaything six ways from Sunday when we’d come home from the club last night. She’d had the best night of her life to date; anything else was just greedy on her part.

But then I remembered.
The news will be out in two weeks.

I didn’t have long left to live a normal lifestyle. Might as well make the most of it.

“What’s your name?” I asked. I didn’t want to give commands to “the blonde” all morning.

A glimmer of disappointment flashed across her face as she realized I’d forgotten her name, but she moved past it quick enough.

“Sabrina,” she replied.

“Okay, Sabrina. How about you go introduce yourself to my cock?”

Sabrina smiled as she whipped off the cover and crawled down between my legs. Her tiny hand wrapped around my shaft, before she leant down and licked my tip with her warm tongue.

“You like that, baby?” Sabrina asked sweetly, as she stroked my cock.

“Yeah, real good, darling,” I replied. “Now suck it.” I slipped my fingers into her hair and pushed her down to my member in case she needed any further encouragement.

Sabrina’s mouth opened just in time to receive my cock. Her tongue pressed against my length as she sucked so hard she almost drew the cum out of me immediately. My tip hit the back of her throat, and she barely batted an eyelash.

This girl knew what she was doing. She’d earned the right to take control for a few minutes. I lay back and closed my eyes while Sabrina’s head bobbed up and down on my cock. She moaned and gasped each time she came up for air, but showed no sign of stopping. A trail of saliva hung from her lips and ended at my cock. That was enough for me.

Her wet mouth was just the starter. Now I wanted the main course.

I grabbed her hair again and pulled her off my cock, pushing her to one side so that she fell flat on her back with her legs open ready for me. Sabrina leaned over and grabbed a condom from the bedside table and slipped it from its foil wrapper. Women putting the condom on could be sexy as hell, but more often than not, it wasn’t worth the hassle. I grabbed the condom from her and quickly rolled it down my member before plunging my cock deep into her eager wet slit.

Sabrina groaned eagerly, as her eyes closed and her head snapped back, like I’d sent an electric shock up her spine.

It was nearly impossible to have a headache when a tight, wet pussy was wrapped around your cock. Her breasts heaved with every thrust, and her groans turned to screams as I delved deeper and deeper inside her.

I grabbed hold of her wrists and held them above her head, looking in her eyes as I pounded her with hard, deep thrusts. I brought her to the edge within minutes, and unlike last night, I didn’t have the patience to stretch it out. With my cock nestled inside her sex, I rocked my hips firmly against hers, rubbing her clit as my cock throbbed inside her. Her orgasm came quickly and loudly. She screamed in my ear, threatening to bring back my headache, as she spasmed under my firm grip.

While Sabrina shook on the bed, I lifted up her legs, pressing her knees up by her ears, as I watched my cock sliding in and out of her wet, bare sex. She looked so pure and virginal; I knew better.

I growled deeply as I came, keeping my cock deep inside her tight pussy as jet after jet of my spunk poured forth.

I collapsed down onto Sabrina, before remembering that I had no intention of lingering here any longer than I had to. I pulled out, carefully making sure the condom stayed on, and then went to the bathroom to dispose of it along with all the others. She had quite the collection of used condoms in there now.

They might be valuable in a few weeks, I thought, as I remembered the ticking time bomb that was due to go off soon and change my life forever.

A loud knocking on her door reminded me that I needed to get the hell out of here and quick. “Sabrina, are you ready?”

“Just coming,” she yelled.

“Again?” I asked. “I’m not even touching you this time.”

She threw my pants and trousers at me playfully, and I remembered that I shouldn’t be joking around with women like her.

“Do you live local?” Sabrina asked.

And that’s why.

“Relatively,” I replied, letting it hang in the air.

“Do you go to Tonic often?”

I used to, but I won’t be able to anymore. Not after the news is out in the open.

“Not really.”

I dressed quickly before things got even more awkward. I threw on my jeans and a shirt, not even bothering to stick my boxers on first. They just got shoved in a pocket, along with my socks. My shoes were on and I had my hand on the doorknob when she caught up with me.

“Why don’t you come by tomorrow night?” Sabrina asked. “We’re having a party on this floor, so it’s not like we’ll even have to go far if we want to… sneak away.”

“I can’t make tomorrow night.”

I opened the door and started to shuffle out. I really didn’t want her to be too pissed off with me if I could avoid it, but I was a shitty liar as well.

“Am I going to see you again?”

This time her voice was weak with emotion. Some girls got mad, some got upset. This one was a crier.

The news will be out in two weeks. Maybe sooner
.

“You are definitely going to see me again,” I said honestly.

“I am?” she asked with a big grin on her face. She looked almost as happy now as she had done when I’d had my dick inside her.

“Yes. And real soon, I promise. You’ll be sick of the sight of me by the end of the month.”

I couldn’t lie, but I could sure as shit bend the truth.

I stormed straight past Sabrina’s friend in the hall—hopefully quickly enough that she wouldn’t recognize me later—and headed down the stairs. I’d been in this building plenty of times before and knew my way out.

More importantly, I knew my way to the café on campus. It would be full of students, but it was also full of coffee and right now my need for caffeine surpassed my desire not to listen to students talk bollocks. Just.

Only two weeks left now.

Two more weeks of freedom, and then my life would change forever.