Hearts in Overtime: A Bad Boy Sports Romance (5 page)

Wait…what?

It takes a second to register what’s really happening. I thought for sure that Charlotte would flounce out of here—after giving me a shrill lecture, of course—and that would be the end of her. Is she really going to…?

She drops to her knees and starts unbuckling my belt.

Yeah, she definitely is.

I’m not sure how to feel about this. On the one hand, she’s hot in a wholesome, girl-next-door-with-giant-tits kind of way. I’m stoked that she’s agreed to suck my cock. In fact I’m elated. But I hate the idea that she’s only doing it out of obligation.

I hate the idea that I bullied her into this with my childish behavior.

She’s gotten my belt unbuckled and now her pretty pink painted fingers are fumbling with the button of my jeans.

This isn’t what I want.

“Charlotte, wait.”

I reach down with both my hands to pull hers off my crotch. She gazes up at me with curious eyes, and I wrap my fingers around her hands.

“What’s the problem?” she asks.

Oh, fuck. How can I answer this without sounding like a pansy ass bitch?

“Look,” I say with all the authority I can muster. “I may be a lot of things but I’m not some sleazy jackass who has to bully chicks into performing sexual favors.”

She gives me a thoughtful nod.

“So…” Leaving the rest unsaid, I motion for her to get up.

She doesn’t budge, which isn’t helping matters at all. I’ve got a hot chick down on her knees in front of me. It’s no wonder that my cock is desperate for freedom.

Charlotte places a hand on my knee, but instead of using it as an aid to get back up on her feet, she runs it slowly up the length of my thigh. She looks up at me with those gorgeous lips of hers in the cutest little pout.

“Well…that sucks,” she murmurs.

Again, she’s thrown me into a loop. What’s she saying here?

“I kinda had my heart set on tasting you, Ryan.”

Oh,
fuck
. My cock is straining against my clothing like a wild fucking animal. Either we go ahead with this or I’m going to have to rub one out. Like now.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m positive,” she says.

With a nod, I give my assent. She doesn’t waste any time unbuttoning and unzipping my jeans, and I breathe a huge sigh of relief when she sets my cock free.

She looks up at me with a smile as she adjusts her position, nestling that soft, curvy body of hers between my thighs and taking the head of my cock into her mouth.

Fuck me. She’s good. I lean my head back and utter a low moan as she swirls her tongue around the tip in a playful sort of way. She gives me slow, seductive kisses all the way down my shaft and up again before opening wide and swallowing me down.

I groan, burying my fingers in that thick, lush red hair of hers as she bobs her head up and down over my lap. Her movements are slow and methodical, very sensual and
very
sexy.

She reaches down and finds my balls. Her soft, delicate hands stroke and massage them as her lips slide up and down my cock. Every now and then she gives my ball sack a little pinch, which only adds to the all the awesome sensations I’m feeling.

“Oh, fuck,” I mutter, tightening my grip on her soft red curls.

I’m getting close now, and she knows it. She starts increasing her speed gradually at first, but before I know it, she’s sucking my cock like she’s on fast fucking forward. God, she’s gorgeous! The image of those ripe, juicy lips of hers sliding up and down my shaft is more beautiful than any work of art.

I come with a fury, shooting my load right into her, and to her credit, she doesn’t even react. She just keeps on bobbing up and down as I coat her throat with my seed. Only when my breaths return to normal does she slide her lips up off my cock for the last time and look up at me with a smile.

“Charlotte,” I say, shaking my head in awe. “That was amazing.”

“I’m glad you think so.”

I reach down to pull her up to my lap. She takes care to avoid crushing my cock, balancing easily on my left thigh and leaning her side against my chest. We’re a comfortable fit. I love how soft she feels against me. It’s been so long that I’ve been with a girl who wasn’t taut and toned within an inch of her life that I’ve forgotten how it feels to be with a more natural girl. Well, I just have to say it feels nice.
She
feels nice.

Our eyes meet and I reach over to stroke her cheek, her jaw, her lips.
Those lips
. I can’t resist the urge to lean in and kiss her. She responds by parting those gorgeous lips of hers and I explore the mysteries of her mouth, tasting my own salty cum mixed in with her sweet saliva.

As our tongues become entangled, I pull her closer to me so I can feel those big, fleshy tits pressed up against my chest.

That’s it. That’s so good. So good.

This girl. She’s so ripe. And she’s sweet, so sweet, in more ways than one. I don’t know what’s coming over me, but I know I’ve got to make her feel as good as she’s made me feel. So I slide a hand under her ass and get to my feet, holding her easily with one arm.

She pulls back with a gasp, and I can see the fear in her eyes. She probably thinks I’m going to drop her. No doubt she’s only been with weak ass dudes in the past whose stringy arms lacked the strength to carry her around. Well, not this dude. I give her a soft, reassuring peck on the lips before turning and setting her gently down on top of the table.

She looks up at me with a questioning frown, and I respond with another quick kiss before I reach down and start unbuttoning her jeans.

“Wait, Ryan. No,” she says.

“Really?”

I look into her eyes and find her torn. She looks completely petrified! Is she worried about getting caught? Funny that didn’t occur to her when she had my cock in her mouth. But on the other hand, the desire she radiates is positively palpable. She wants it, obviously, but something is holding her back.

“Are you sure?” I ask, sliding my fingers under the waistband of her jeans to massage her smooth, warm skin with sexy strokes.

She closes her eyes and utters a soft sigh.

“Is this okay?” I ask as I slowly unzip her fly.

“Yeah, okay,” she says in a breathless voice.

Cool.

I place a hand on either side of her waist and set her feet back on the floor so I can slide her jeans down her legs along with her panties. Once those things are out of the way, I can get down to business.

Holy fuck. The scent of her pussy is heady and powerful. I lift her up and set her back on the table with her legs dangling off the edge. Her eyes are huge, her pupils dilated to such an extreme, there’s no sign of blue in this girl’s eyes. She licks her lips and reaches out to me.

That’s when it occurs to me that she thinks we’re going to fuck. Well, she’s got another thing coming. I take her hand and kiss the back of it before letting it go. And then I kneel down and bury my face in her pussy.

“Oh my GOD,” she moans.

Oh my god is right. She tastes so good; I can’t even handle it. The girl is dripping wet and I take my own sweet time lapping up the juices along her slippery folds.

Nudging her thighs open wider, I make my way up her slippery slit to her clit. With a muffled shriek—she must have her mouth pressed up against her arm or something—Charlotte’s entire body starts trembling violently.

I take this as the cue I need to go to town on her. As I massage her mound with my fingers, I wrap my lips around that beautiful little pebble of hers and start twirling my tongue around it.

Panting loudly, she rakes my scalp with her fingernails.

I speed things up a bit, sucking on her clit as I batter it with my tongue.

“Oh, GOD!” she cries.

Her body is convulsing with such incredible force. It’s been a long ass time since I’ve seen a girl come so quickly. Part of me wants to slow things down a bit. I’d like to take my time tasting her, increasing her pleasure like a slow burn. But that would be a serious asshole move. At this point, it would just be cruel to prolong things.

Hoping I’ll get a second chance at this, I crank things up yet another notch and whirl my tongue around that gorgeous clit of hers, bringing her higher and higher to the peak of orgasm. Only after the last tremble makes its way through her body do I pull away.

“Wow,” she says, gazing down at me with shiny, dazed eyes.

I get to my feet and then reach down to help her to hers. Without a word, we embrace, and I hold her as tightly as I can. I still can’t get over how much I love the feel of her soft, curvy body. So feminine. So real.

Of course it’s not long before my cock starts stirring again. It’s still hanging out of my pants, and Charlotte is completely naked from the waist down. I consider asking her if she’d like to fuck—not in so many words, obviously—but something’s holding me back.

“We’d better get dressed,” Charlotte says, and it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that she’d felt my cock twitching against her belly.

“That’s probably a good idea.”

I let her go and reach down to shove my cock back into my underwear and zip up my pants. She retrieves her jeans and panties from the corner of the room. Shit. I didn’t know I’d thrown them that far. She hurries to get dressed and then glances around the room as if looking for something. It’s obvious the girl is frazzled about what just happened. She’s definitely avoiding my eyes. I need to do something about this.

“Hey,” I say.

“Yeah?”

I reach for her hand and close my fingers around hers.

“Things don’t need to be weird between us. It’s all good.”

She gives me a grateful smile, and I lead her to one of the chairs on my side of the table. After she’s seated, I take a seat next to her and repeat, “It’s all good. Trust me.”

“Hmm. Yeah, right. I’d have to be an idiot to trust you, Ryan Blake.”

I respond with a good-natured laugh, but the truth is, that remark doesn’t sit well with me. I may not be a model citizen, but I’m not
that
bad. And I’m not a liar. Refusing to answer and answering with a lie are two very different things.

“Anyway…” she says.

“Anyway,” I echo.

She turns and gives me a wary look. “Ryan, I really appreciate the fact that you decided to reciprocate. It was an amazing surprise, and an even more amazing experience, but I hope you don’t think it excuses you from holding up your end of the bargain.”

“Huh?”

I honestly have no idea what she’s talking about. She doesn’t respond except by narrowing her eyes, and after a moment it hits me.

“Oh, yeah. I agreed to answer some questions.”

“You agreed to tell me anything I wanted to know about your high school years,” she reminded me.

“Right.”

Shit. This sucks. I never thought I’d actually find myself in this situation, but I guess things could be worse. At least none of the seriously crazy shit went down during my high school years. If she expected me to open up about a few years prior…well, that would be a whole different story.

“So, are we good?” she asks. “Can we proceed with the interview?”

She’s so fucking adorable. How many other women would be able to come down off an orgasm and get right back to work? I just want to pick her up and take her home with me.

Smiling to myself, I say, “Sure. Fire away.”

“Thank you.”

She reaches over to squeeze my arm. In that one small gesture, it seems like she’s trying to say she understands how hard this is for me, how difficult it’s going to be for me to spill my guts about my past. Maybe that’s not the case at all, but that’s how it seems to me.

And I really appreciate her making the gesture. A lot.

“Now,” she says, propping her elbow up on the table and resting her chin on her palm, “First and foremost, where did you grow up?”

I have no idea how to answer her question.

“Let me amend that. Where did you spend your senior year of high school?”

Taking a deep breath, I tell her, “A po-dunk little town about a half an hour northwest of Pittsburgh.”

She gives me a nod of encouragement.

“Did you play on your high school football team?”

“Of course.”

“Were you guys any good?”

I can’t help but crack a smile.

“God, no. The town was mostly Protestant, so obviously there weren’t a whole lot of students enrolled at my school. St. Mary’s. Coach couldn’t exactly afford to be selective. Practically half the guys in the school were on the team.” I shake my head at the memory.

We really were a sorry ass bunch.

“So you grew up Catholic?” Charlotte says.

“No.”

She frowns, gazing intently at me with those beautiful blue eyes.

“So even though you didn’t grow up Catholic, your parents sent you to a Catholic school in a mostly Protestant town,” she recaps.