Hook Up (A Bad Boy Sports Romance) Read online

  Hook Up

  A Bad Boy Sports Romance

  Bella Love-Wins

  Contents

  Copyright

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  1. Chris

  2. Josephine

  3. Chris

  4. Chris

  5. Josephine

  6. Chris

  7. Josephine

  8. Chris

  9. Josephine

  10. Chris

  11. Josephine

  12. Chris

  13. Josephine

  14. Josephine

  15. Chris

  16. Josephine

  17. Josephine

  18. Chris

  19. Chris

  20. Josephine

  21. Josephine

  22. Josephine

  23. Chris

  24. Epilogue – Chris

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  More Steamy Romance Series By Bella Love-Wins

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  This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

  Hook Up

  Copyright © 2016 Bella Love-Wins.

  First edition. June, 2016

  Written by Bella Love-Wins.

  All Rights Reserved.

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  1

  Chris

  I walked into the Raging Bull Saloon, and my hometown crowd went wild. It was the first week of August, four days before the end of my college football offseason and the first official day of fall camp. Over two hundred party people all showed up at the local bar, here in what most people around these parts considered the suburbs of El Paso, Texas. They were here for my last college sendoff party before I graduated and hopefully got drafted by one of my top five NFL teams. Over two hundred people in a bar that had capacity for no more than maybe a hundred patrons. It was jam packed and absolute bedlam.

  “Whatcha drinking, Chris?” Someone shouted from a few feet away.

  “Beer! What’cha think? It’s a party, ain’t it?”

  The sheer force of the swell of this large crowd led me to the bar. All I could feel were hands on my shoulders, pats on the back, and the noise was off the charts. Hundreds of voices were chanting wildly to me and each other, drowning out the country music that usually blared out of the overhead speakers. I finally got to the bar when all the chants became one particular word they repeated over and over.

  “Speech! Speech! Speech!”

  I jumped up to stand on top of the mahogany counter, waving my hands to quell the noise long enough so I could give them what they wanted. When they finally quieted down, I took off my black Stetson cowboy hat with the cattleman’s crease design and shouted, “Thanks for coming out tonight. I want the keep the party going, so I’ll keep this short. All I really need to tell you is this.” I paused for effect, put my hat back on, and pointed both hands to my chest. “This here El Pasoan is gonna get back out to Baton Rouge, Louisiana, and make y’all proud as fuck. I’ll work hard, play hard and come back a winner. No one, and I mean no one, gets to mess with El Paso, Texas!”

  The crowd erupted into a deafening roar of cheers. It was haywire. While I was still up there, out of nowhere someone threw a life-sized stuffed animal—a calf, no less—into my arms. What were they expecting me to do with this thing? Jesus fuck, I didn’t want to hazard a guess. I was relieved when some guy jumped up on the bar next to me, pointing to a massive Velcro bullseye dartboard-like object hanging on one wall on the far side of the place. It was probably eight feet in diameter. He hushed the crowd.

  “All bets are almost in, sonny. There’s two thousand smackers on the line so far, and four-to-one odds that say you can’t nail this sucker on the bullseye. Let’s prove these cowboys and cowgirls wrong!”

  More cash began to excitedly change hands in the crowd as people upped their bets or joined in on the action at the last minute. I reared back my right arm, ready to throw, and before I did, yelled, “I play to win, motherfuckers!”

  The crowd went silent when I released the baby calf. It flew across the tops of everyone’s heads, hurtling toward the bullseye, and caught the Velcro with the tail on the inner bullseye and the nose on the double ring. They all went apeshit. Heaven knows why. I was a cornerback. I could have an entire NFL career and never, ever throw a ball, and still be super successful. Playing the corner position meant I had to be quick and agile. I was the one who did the baiting, tackling, blitzing, catching, covering the trail and stiff-arm jamming. Throwing the ball? Not so much. But whatever. I threw that calf and hit its ass on the bullseye, and now I had some extra cash in my pocket.

  The guy next to me went off in a corner to distribute winnings, and the swell of the crowd followed in this direction. Before I got down from my elevated perch, I saw her. She was the only woman in the place who wasn’t screaming, cheering or reveling in my greatness as one of only a few El Pasoans in the SEC, and probably the only NFL hopeful of the upcoming college football season. In fact, she had an annoyed scowl on her pouty, sexy pink lips. She was stunning, with big bright eyes I couldn’t tell the color of yet at this distance and a face that was framed by golden red silky tresses. And now she was looking right at me. Hot damn, she was all curves and so fine.

  My gaze got fixed on the swell of her breasts under that soft pink spaghetti strap camisole she wore, then roamed down to a flat stomach and tiny waist. She was a confident little thing. She turned around right then, as though she knew exactly what I was thinking and wanted to give me a show. My dick stiffened in my jeans, and I knew I liked her already. My eyes wandered a little further down her body, past the way she arched her back, down to her shapely hips under a stretchy jeans skirt that fit snugly over her round ass. The dark blue denim stopped just below her ass, revealing smooth pale skin that went on for miles down her shapely legs until it tucked into her ankle-high tan cowboy boots. I took off my hat and handed it to the bartender. I had to go investigate.

  Instead of making my way to her empty-handed, I hopped off the bar and asked for four Bud Lights in the bottle. Two were for me, one was for her, and one was for the chick standing beside her, who I reckoned was her wingwoman. Or maybe it was the other way around, which would explain the earlier scowl. As I waited for the bartender to bring over my order, I got another good look at her. She’d turned back to face me and made sure I was looking when she smiled and gave me a seductive wink.

  That was all I needed to make my way over there. Ignoring the flirty tugs of the many other ladies in the crowd wanting some one-on-one time with me, I nodded politely in their direction without making eye contact and kept moving to her. When I made it over, I handed over two beers from one hand and nodded to her friend. I didn’t need a pickup line. Pickup lines were for chumps.

  “Thanks,” she said in a voice as smooth as silk, passing the second bottle to her friend. She craned her neck to look up into my face, placed her free hand on the top of my abs on account of her height, and smiled. “So, who the fuck are you?”

  Okay. That was one way to make an introduction. “Chris.”
>
  “I’m Jo. And that’s not what I meant. I’m guessing you’re a college football star or something?”

  “Sure. Yes. SEC football player hoping to make it to the NFL next season. And how about you, darlin’?”

  “Me? I’m not in the SEC. If I were, I could teach you cocky bastards a few things,” she hummed without moving her arm from my stomach.

  “You kiss your momma with that mouth, little lady?” I asked, slightly offended but not offended enough to stop my dick from springing to attention.

  “Not anymore. She died.”

  “Oh. Sorry.”

  “It’s okay. It was a while back.”

  I reckon I walked right into that one. For the first time in a while, I wasn’t so quick on my feet. I scrambled for a comeback. What was I supposed to tell her? Give her my deepest condolences? Tell her I had a bad case of verbal foot-in-mouth syndrome? Realizing there was no right thing to say to that, I shrugged and scratched my head. I was sure she’d do an about face and head back to the other side of the bar after that snafu, but she didn’t. She just stood there, neck craned up toward my face, staring up at me as though she was giving some idea a heck of a lot of thought.

  At that point, I could only hope that whatever was weighing on her mind would involve me jammed between her sexy, shapely legs, gripping her tiny waist and with my head buried between her ample breasts. The cute thing was all curves and sexy as hell, and for a second I was tempted to take her hand and spin her around just to check out her ass again. My bet was it would be just as round and firm and shapely as everywhere else on her body.

  “You’re a mouthy little thing, aren’t you?” That mouth of hers would still look damn good wrapped around my dick right about now.

  She tiptoed up to tell me something, and I had to duck my head down for those lips of hers to make it to my ear. She was so close her soft full breasts were brushing up against my chest. “You think that was mouthy, big boy? You haven’t heard anything yet.”

  “You sound like you’re fixing to give gingers a bad name, you feisty little firecracker.” I nodded in the direction of the men’s restroom. “Why don’t you put your money where your mouth is and show me, sweet thing?”

  She downed the beer I’d handed her in all of four long gulps, slapped the bottle down on the nearest table, and absently ran her tongue over her luscious top lip. By now I was ready to devour those lips and tame that feisty tongue of hers. Grabbing my free hand, she said, “I damn well thought your sorry ass would never ask.”

  I quickly finished my first beer on the way to the corridor that led to the restroom and handed the second bottle to some lucky chick who happened to be passing by. We walked into the men’s room, and she upped the ante. She turned the lock behind me and slammed me against the closed door. She slammed me. If the little five-foot-nothing, hot-blooded woman didn’t have my attention before, she sure as fuck had it now.

  I looked down into her eyes and all I saw was sexual need, fearlessness, and raw lust, yet behind all that there was a sadness I don’t think I’d ever seen in anyone so young. I wanted to give that emotion some air time, but my dick wasn’t ready to get all deep and shit. I went with the lust, the need. Yes. She was hot and ready, and when I buried my hand in her gorgeous red hair and tilted her head back, she purred like a kitten.

  She opened her mouth to whisper something, but I stopped her with a fierce kiss, ravaging her mouth as I picked her up by the ass and wrapped her legs around my waist, with her skirt already halfway up her hips. In one pivot, I had turned and pressed her up against the door. Her hands went up to the back of my head and gripped onto the roots as she pulled me deeper into the kiss like my tongue wasn’t far enough down her throat yet. She was a wild one, and fuck, that made my cock want to burst free from these jeans and dive deep into her center.

  I wedged my hand between her ass and the door again, feeling every inch of that roundness until I slipped two fingers under her lacy panties and over her tight asshole. Boy was she whimpering now, writhing her hips and practically begging for a release. I ducked my head to her neck, nipping and sucking on her sweet skin that tasted like vanilla and woman. God, what I wouldn’t give for a bed to spread her across and taste every inch of her.

  Unable to resist that need, I lowered her legs to the floor and dropped to my knees, spreading her legs and tugging her panties aside so I could get my wish in at least one special spot. She was soaking wet and sweet like honey when my tongue ran over her clit. Her hands gripped my shoulders, pulling me in. I sucked and bit and hungrily tasted her clit before penetrating her with my tongue. I picked up one of her sexy legs and rested the heel of her cowboy boot on my shoulder to get more access. She moaned, and was riding my face, begging me to come inside her and fuck her as she got closer to a climax.

  That was all the invitation I needed. I got to my feet and picked her up again, kissing her lips as I walked over to the counter of sinks. Using it as my personal rest spot, I half-leaned, half sat on it. I shifted her up my body to undo my belt and zipper, and rolled a condom onto my dick, which was hard as granite and aching to get up inside her.

  Little Miss Jo with the feisty mouth got really creative then. Hanging on to me with her one hand around my neck, she propped her cowboy boots against the counter on either side of me. She pulled her panties aside, then she dragged the neckline of her top down below her breasts, giving me the best view of her beautiful firm tits and pink sensuous nipples. I licked my lips, ready to get right up in there. She picked up her hips, angled herself at the head of my cock and began to lower herself down my shaft. I think my eyes rolled to the back of my head just then, partly from how good she felt, but I had to admit a part of me was in awe of this woman, taking what she wanted sexually, unafraid of that wild, sensual side.

  That awe I had, it quickly turned to savage passion. A second later I held on to her hips and began to give her a real taste of what it felt like to have me so deep inside her, she was liable to scream or cry or both. I squeezed her hips, spreading her ass as I pushed in deeper, lifting her off me and pulling her down again, filling her pussy to the hilt.

  Yes.

  She did both.

  She cried and she screamed.

  She hung on and moaned, gripping my shoulder so hard and digging her nails so deeply into my back, I was sure I’d look like a mountain lion attacked me the next day. She arched her back, giving me just enough room to do what I’d been contemplating since I was up on the counter earlier. I spread my hand across her back for support and took one of her nipples between my lips, licking and tasting until she was grinding her pussy into my groin like a wildcat, bringing herself to a wicked climax all on her own. Well, almost on her own, after all she was still sitting on my dick with her breast in my mouth.

  Her orgasm was my signal to let loose and finally relax enough to come. As her movements wound down, I took her perfectly-sized ass cheeks in my hands and pumped into her tight pussy, burying my cock deeper each time. I spreading her wide with my firm grip on her firm butt, sucking harder on the other nipple until every part of my body went tense with the knowledge that I would come with her still tightening core clamped around my shaft and her swollen clit rubbing against the base.

  Which I did.

  Hard.

  As I got back to my senses, she kissed my neck and stretched her legs up, lifting off of me before gliding down my front to stand on her own two feet. She looked up at me with a seductive smile while she got her clothes in order, and then she freshened up at the sink. I took a few breaths to savor the fleeting moment, and got rid of the condom before getting my pants in order.

  I gave her the nod of acknowledgment I usually save for the ladies I enjoyed yet was sure I’d never see again. A part of me hoped this had happened in the frat house. At least then she might have still been hanging around from time to time. Oh well.

  “Have a good evening, Miss Jo,” I told her, motioning to the door so she could leave first. Oh no, I didn’t
forget my manners.

  “You too,” she told me, swaying her sexy hips as she headed out ahead of me.

  That was one hell of a hookup.

  2

  Josephine

  That was one hell of a hookup.

  If I’d known that jock I picked up was so good in the sack, I’d have gotten his name again. Too bad I wasn’t paying attention to a word he said when he approached me. I was too busy admiring his ruggedly handsome face, his wide, bright, mischievous grin, his broad shoulders, and those big hazel eyes framed in ultra-long lashes I’d never have even with mascara. After that my eyes had roamed down his body, taking in each well-chiseled muscle on his chest, stomach and arms. Arms that picked me up with ease and made me feel as light as a feather, which was quite the opposite, because by all standards of womanhood, I may have been short, but I was no waif. In fact I was pretty darned chunky.

  My ass was massive, my hips were broad and my double-D breasts were too damn big for my just over five-foot tall body. I had a hell of a time finding clothes that fit me perfectly. Half the time, I’d stuff my fat ass into a size twelve jeans just so the waist wouldn’t pucker up in the back or cause me to look like I had a gut when it bunched up around my stomach. If I could manage it, I’d pay for custom made stuff, but that was nowhere near the vicinity of my self-assigned clothing budget of under one hundred dollars every quarter.

  All I had going for me was a reasonably narrow waist, not bad legs and a decent looking face. As for my hair color, well that was a double edge sword. Some men loved it, others hated it. Personally, I never dyed it or put in highlights because it was the only thing I had left that reminded me of my mother. That and this car.

  Thinking back on the big strong stud I banged in the men’s washroom, I remembered he had said something about Louisiana when he was giving his little speech to the crowd. That was where I was headed too. New Orleans was about to be my new home, and this men’s room escape with what’s his name, well that was me letting off some steam and mentally preparing myself for one hell of a long road trip and the next chapter of my life.