Quarterback's Surprise Baby (Bad Boy Ballers Book 2) (9 page)

“Yes,” I concede. “Actually I have.” Her eyes widen. She wants details. “A few times. And I'm pretty certain that he's innocent of his charges.”

“Wow, what a mess. If he’s innocent, that’s good… but are you sure that's not just the sex talking?” she queries me suspiciously.

“Honestly? No,” I admit. “But I'm going to find out for certain.” I cast my eyes down, feeling a little shy about just how good the sex has been. “I’ve hired a private eye, and I'm going to find out everything there is to know about Gryphon James, his accuser ex, and their relationship.”

“Good for you. Take matters into your own hands, girl,” she says. “Be the person who knows the most about the whole situation, and you can't ever be wrong.”

I nod. Sandra is wise. “So how 'bout you, any new men in your life?”

“Well as a matter of fact,” she smiles. “I did go out with somebody.”

“Oh is that right?”

“He's a lawyer—well he's a paralegal. He's studying to be a lawyer,” she says. Now it's her turn to blush. “It’s not serious, but maybe he has potential. I guess. We’ll see.”

“Are you cradle-robbing, Sandra?” I tease, taking another sip of my drink.

She giggles. It's nice for a moment to have the attention off of me for a change. I’ll try to relax for the time being: Kent can learn and report all the information about my case, and I can listen to Sandra tell me all about her younger man over some sweet margaritas.

“It probably won’t go anywhere, but he has the most dreamy eyes,” she begins, and I relax for the first time in a while. Out of bed, at least.

T
he team runs
around the pylons again. I’m just not satisfied with their agility. I’ve got them practicing every day on it, but nothing seems to make them any better. Coach is on my ass again about everyone’s performance now, and I’m tearing out my hair. He’s left them to me for the day and he wants to see some progress.

“Better, Griff?” asks Drake. “Faster?”

I look at my stopwatch. “No, man, not better. In fact, three seconds worse.”

“Dammit!” he says. “I’ll set up the pylons again. I nod, but the method’s just not working. I’m at a loss.

Our linebacker goes through the sequence, and I time him. Again, it’s worse. I’ve already yelled, I’ve pleaded, I’ve cajoled, I’ve threatened.

“Hey is that your girlfriend?” says Ray, the Defensive Lineman, pointing to the stands, and I see Odell. She’s graceful, dressed in a way that hugs her sweet curves. Coach isn’t here, so I jog over and give her a kiss.

“Odell! What are you doing here? Everything all right?” I ask. “Is it something about the case?”

“Oh, no, Griff, nothing like that,” she answers softly, but her smile is wide. “I just wanted to see you. I didn’t want to get in the way, you should go on with your practice.”

“Yeah, it’s not going very well,” I say with a grimace, raking a hand through my hair. “These guys are just not picking up their feet.”

“Yeah, I saw that,” she agrees. “You know, there’s a great ballet move that would probably help them. You should get a ballet coach in here.”

“Oh yeah?” I’m skeptical, but at the same time, nobody is a precision athlete like a dancer. “You think you could do it?”

“It’s been ages since I did any real dancing,” she demurs. “But it would do the trick, I’m almost certain,” she nods to herself.

“Why not give it a try?” I ask, and open the door to the field. “Here, jump down,” I take her hand, hers small in mine, and her eyes are shining.

“Are you serious, Griff?”

“Why not?” Anything would help right now. I just have to shock these guys out of their complacency.

“If you mean it,” she says, stepping down onto the turf. “Are you sure?” I swear, I see a hint of rosy pink growing on her mocha cheeks.

“Damn sure, we need all the help we can get.” I jog back to the field, and all the guys watch her sexy walk to the middle.

“Bring it in boys, we have a new coach in town today.” Drake gives a long low whistle, and I glare at him. “Knock it off buddy,” I growl.

“Sorry, she’s just fine, that’s all,” he says with a shrug.

“She’s not just fine, she’s mine,” I answer, and he grins. “Ok y’all, this is Odell!” I shout. “She’s going to lead you through some ballet drills.”

“Ballet?” I hear. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.” “Has Gryphon gone crazy?”

Odell stands in front of the team, her face clear and confident. “Hey everyone,” she smiles, and they look at her expectantly. She takes off her heels. “I’m going to take you through some old drills I learned as a young girl in the ballet studio,” she continues, and I hear someone scoff. “Don’t laugh,” she smiles. “They’re not easy.”

She stands with her arms above her head. “Follow me please,” she says, and soon her natural authority wins over one player after another. I stand at the side, marveling over what she’s been able to accomplish in just a few short minutes. They might not look like ballerinas, but my team is going through the positions she’s showing them, and groaning with the effort. “Gryphon,” she says, shooting me a look. “Don’t think you’re going to get out of this! Get up here!”

I walk up and stand beside her, doing my best to mimic her movements. She teaches them positions, plies, and a bunch of exercises I don’t know the name of, fluttering her legs like a butterfly, before moving through a series of stretches.

When we’re finally done, Drake pipes up, “Now I feel like a proper dancer!” and the boys all laugh. Odell’s smile is good-natured.

“If you feel like a proper dancer, then your feet and your butt hurt!” she grins.

I put my arm around her, sliding my hand down the small of her back and let my fingers rest on the curve where her ass begins. “Thanks babe,” I whisper. Turning away, I tell Drake to set up the pylons again, and I hear groans.

“No bellyaching!” I shout. “We’re going to run them again, and I’m going to let Odell time you!” Our eyes meet as I hand her the stopwatch. “Let me show you how it’s done!” She pushes go, and I run them, twisting and turning through the obstacles, and I do feel smoother and more limber after her workout.

“One minute twelve seconds!” She yells out as I finish. “What’s the record, Griff?”

“That’s the record,” the running back says, impressed. “That’s why this guy makes the big bucks.

“You try,” I say, wiping the sweat from my forehead with my shirt. Odell catches a peek of my abs, and I wink at her.

“All right,” he says, and stands at the beginning of the course. Odell yells, “Go!” and he takes off, not as well as I did, but pretty great.

“One twenty!” she says.

“See, you work, you improve!” I yell. Each man goes through, and each shaves time off his total.

“I think we got a new coach here, Griff,” says the linebacker. I smile. “No, not you, your lady friend!” The fellas laugh, but my face is serious.

“She’s way too expensive for us, boys,” I grin. “Now Drake, take them through their cool down, and I’ll see you guys in the locker room in a few.” I grab Odell’s hand and we walk off the pitch, ignoring the sounds of hooting and hollering coming from the players.

“That was amazing,” I say. “You know, you might have a career in football.” I chuck her chin and brush a bit of stray hair that always falls in her beautiful face. “I was getting nowhere with them.”

“Well they clearly adore you,” she smiles at me, “like you’re their hero.”

“I am,” I laugh, pretending to polish my nails on the front of my jersey. “But I don’t want to be their hero,” I say, leading her up the stairs to the hallway. “I want to be yours.”

“Gryphon,” she says, gently hitting my arm.

“Oh are you giving me a massage?” I ask. “Do it again, feels good.”

She leans in and looks at me, her Godiva eyes alight. I kiss her, hard.

“Maybe you are my hero,” she says softly when we stop.

“Maybe you’re mine,” I reply.

“
I
want
you to be mine. Only mine,” Gryphon says. His hand begins to trace my collarbone, then slowly slides down to the top of my neckline. I shiver a little. He keeps on: “I adore you, Odell. I want you.” Looking in my eyes, he opens one button and then the next. His finger slips under the lace of my bra. “Only for me.” Breathless, I’m unable to answer.

And with that he leans toward me and his body presses up against mine, and he has me up against the door of his bedroom. His cologne, a clean soapy smell underlaid with a soft musk, fills my nose. My fingers hungrily explore his back, his neck, his arms, feeling the powerful movement of sinew and bone, muscle and skin. His face is so close, his hot breath on my cheek. His mouth covers mine and I’m silenced and filled with light as our tongues touch and then taste each other before passionately mingling, pulling back and joining again. His lips are so warm and soft and slippery. I gently bite his lower lip, pulling it slightly into my mouth as I sense myself swell and warm. I am starting to feel like his. And it’s dangerous. But I don’t want to be with anyone else, I just want to be with Griff. I can feel the stress of everything wash away as he kisses me.

He unhurriedly pulls up my shirt, and the soft fabric stretches across my nipples underneath my skimpy bra, and the silky feeling makes them even more erect. Griff pulls the fabric away and takes each one in his mouth, his tongue and teeth gently playing on my stiff peaks. He reaches back and unhooks my bra, and it falls on the floor, forgotten. He kisses down the center of my chest and my hips begin rocking and bucking into him, pressing against his thigh, feeling the increasing tightness of his pants and the hardness of him, his stiffness against me, so eager and ready.

“
O
dell
,” he whispers. “You’re so beautiful. You’re mine, Odell.” My hands scramble down to his fly, like they’re moving of their own will, scrambling to finally free what is gathering strength under the fabric. With a rush soon his cock bounces free, and proudly stands - and my panties dampen in response, ready for him to plunge inside, to make his claims real. My hands take his length as he kisses her face and her hair, and I marvel at its hardness, its size, its clear desire.

But before he makes me his, I have to make him mine. I kneel and take him into my mouth, as far as I can, licking and sucking him, feeling the rose-petal soft flesh on his rock hard shaft. His hands tangle in my hair. His magnificent cock – soft skin and so, so hard - I slowly licked the tip of his quivering cock, tasting and savoring the salty sweetness. Again my hands are moving on their own, electric, fingertips reveling in each sensation as I feel the skin of his balls contract and move in response to my touch. Cock still in my mouth I look up at his face. A new expression is in his eyes – the first time I’ve seen him completely vulnerable, his eyes half closed and so unguarded, staring at me, fierce eyebrows knitted together, soft lips slightly pursed and mouth open.

I can’t keep my eyes off him as I slowly pull every inch of him into my mouth. I want him inside me every way possible. He cries out as my hands encircle his taut ass and pull him in even deeper. He’s sliding in and out, back and forth as I lick the tender skin, both of us rhythmically breathing along with the movement, faster and faster.

“Odell,” he says, stopping me. “You feel amazing, but I have to fuck you, baby,” and pulls me up, bending me over the bed, facing away from him. Now he’s kneeling on the ground, fingers gently spreading and opening my ass cheeks, thumb gently moving back and forth between my soft folds, then he slides it in a little, stroking me tentatively, then more insistently. Kissing the backs of my thighs, the spot where my legs meet, he takes my lips in his mouth. He licks and sucks around my slit, teasing, then takes my clit with his tongue, teasing and retreating, then lightly sucking. Before I realize it, I’m feeling the most delicate of pleasures as his tongue moves toward my rear, first encircling, then entering. I’m a bit shocked with myself – I’ve always been such a good girl – nobody has ever touched me there, and now he’s tasting me, fingering me, opening and licking me, and I love it.

After a gorgeous eternity he stands up and presses the head of his cock against my slit, pausing. “You want me Odell?” he asks. I can barely breathe.

“Yes, oh yes!” I manage to say. I feel like I need him inside me more than I’ve ever needed anything in my life. Everything is pale is comparison. “Yes please,” I say, and he pushes inside me in one slick motion. My pussy drips as he moves his glistening cock inside me, his hips swiveling and his balls swinging against my clit. Griff grasps my hips and dominates my movements, taking control of me expertly. My breath comes back to me but nothing like words come from my mouth. I come once, and then again, stronger as his strong thighs push against my ass cheeks, slapping gently, quickly. When he leans over, he pinches my nipples lightly and the electricity goes straight to my clit and I come again. “Gryphon…” I scream as the ripples go through me. He only cries out in response, filling me with spurts of hot cum, dripping out of me, as he collapses on me and we lay there, breathing heavily.

I am his.

I
order a piece of pie
, but I find myself unable to touch it. Kent’s meeting me at the coffee shop to give me a full report, but I wish I could’ve put him off today, despite how much I want to get the information from him.

I’m not sure if I’m sick or if it’s just that nerve-wracking to deal with this stress. I’ve tried to stay on the down low this week while Kent’s investigating, but I haven't been able to stop thinking about Gryphon,what we are building, and how much could be lost if he gets charged with DV. And what it will mean to me if Sabrina Forbes is telling the truth and he did attack her. It all leaves me wondering if I will have the courage to leave Griff even as I fear I'm falling in love with him. My stomach is churning.

I need to know the truth and that’s why I’m here.

Despite Carlton’s espionage, neither Griff nor I have been able to ignore each other. We text pretty constantly when he’s not on the field and I’m not working, and we’ve been stealing as many nights together as we can. Through the pleasure, the thought of what could happen if things don’t work out for him, for us, lurks around the corners of our happiness.

Four possibilities exist: Griff is innocent, and he gets cleared of all charges—my dream scenario. Two: Griff is innocent and he doesn't get cleared. That’s my nightmare, because it feels as if I am the only one who is ultimately responsible for that. Not only does Griff go down, but the firm will put me under suspension. Three: Griff is guilty and gets off anyway; which would mean that I would have to face losing him as a lover and a boyfriend, just to save myself. And fourth: Griff is guilty and loses his job, and goes to jail. And, while my position at the firm wouldn’t be in any more jeopardy than it already is, I would lose my budding love affair with the most gorgeous, sweet lover I have ever had the pleasure to be with.

There is only one possibility that works for both of us.

My stomach churns, and I play with forkfuls of the pie, though the thought of eating it has lost all appeal. Even my coffee isn't going down easy. The only thing I can manage to drink is water. I lean back and rub my forehead, hoping I can avoid a trip to upchuck in the bathroom.

Kent walks in. Seeing him this week brings me right back to being a kid at my parent's parties; he used to stand in the corner, tall, wizened face, scotch in hand. He always looked more serious than the rest of them, and every once in a while he would engage me in conversation and I'd feel so grown up. Now I
am
grown up, and I know Kent can be my silver bullet, if I'm only right in my suspicions. He’ll do his best for me.

“Odell!” he says happily when we meet. The corners of his grey eyes crinkle into crows' feet at the delight of seeing me. I jump up and hug him, and he returns the embrace. “Every time I see you I just marvel at the woman you’ve become.” He said that last week too. What a sweetie.

“That's right,” I smile proudly. “All grown up.”

“I always knew you would make something of yourself,” he says as we sit. “Your parents must be very proud.

“I suppose they are,” I answer, a wry tone in my voice. “But you know how they are—they never show it.”

“Yes, they always have kept their cards close to their chest,” he replies musingly, before suddenly smiling. “Something a lot more people should do, if you ask a former Private Eye like myself.”

Kent puts his briefcase next to him and the server is over in a flash.

“I'll have what she's having,” he says before getting out a sheaf of papers.

The waitress looks hard at my plate.

“A coffee, and a piece of pie to mangle?” She grins. “Coming right up.”

“Pie no good?” he asks after she leaves.

“Oh no, it's lovely, I'm sure. I'm just too nervous to eat. My stomach's queasy.”

“Nervous, eh.” He just looks at me a moment and I don't know what he's thinking. Then he gets his briefcase from the vinyl seat beside him. “Ok, I've been able to get some pretty interesting info on your case. Your client, the famous footballer—I have to admit I am a fan of his—seems to have quite a spotted past. His parents did not exactly provide him with a stable home life; in fact, he was in and out of foster care since he was a young kid. And of course, there was the tragedy with his mother and father. His mother was a victim of domestic abuse, and then she ended up shooting and killing his father. Yes Gryphon jJames had a very tough start in life.”

“Yes I know about a lot of it,” I say. My mind goes back to that night he told me everything he had to deal with growing up. The way his eyes looked, stormy and sad, with a touch of young boy in them. His face faraway and his lips closed tight before he spoke. But when he did, it was like he’d never stop, the words flooding out of him. I just wanted to hold him, to staunch the flow of pain somehow but I could only listen, and try to contain it. To be the one who could care for the real Gryphon James—not the ones who wanted to take him and use him for everything he had.

“In fact,” Kent says, jarring me from my thoughts, “it’s quite amazing that he been as successful as he has, considering everything he's been through. He hasn’t seemed to have gotten in any trouble at all since he was a young kid in high school. Just the regular stuff for a young man like him. He was on the up and up in college. Grades weren’t great, but not too bad. He lived in a big old mansion there, kind of like a frat house for the football royalty of the school. Kept mostly out of trouble and won a lot of games.”

I fight down another sip of coffee. “So has he ever been accused of such a thing before? Any fights with girlfriends?” I steel myself for the answer. This could be what makes or breaks my case; any whiff of wrongdoing and Gryphon will go down hard in the courts.

“That’s the question, isn’t it.” Kent opens his briefcase with a loud click. “Well, why don’t you read my full report, and if you have any questions, you can ask me.” He hands me a few papers and I take them, almost afraid to see what he’s found out.

My stomach contracts as I begin to read the first paragraph. I just want Kent to tell me if I lose, which one I’m going to have to say goodbye to—my job, or my boyfriend.