Jock: A Secret Baby Sports Romance by Aubrey Irons

nothing.
    “Yes or no to the shower.”
    Okay, what the fuck. “Cocky and crude” was working just fine last night, but it’s like this morning she’s woken up back to being immune to my bullshit. Well, or at least making a very good play at pretending to be immune to it. But either way, the fact remains that ten minutes after waking up, I’m not making that sweet pussy come all over my cock as I fuck her against the wall of the shower.
    I’m just standing here like a douchebag with my cock out and a girl who clearly is not interested.
    I frown as I clear my throat.
    “I’ll just go grab that shower.”
    I wash off quickly, my cock deflating and a frown etching into my face at the fact that I’m in here alone like a tool. Stepping out, I grab a towel before peeking out of the half-open bathroom door.
    I grin.
    London has her back to me, standing in front of the bedroom mirror pulling a straightening iron through her hair.
    Huh, I had no idea it was curly.
    She’s also standing there in creamy white, lacy-if-not-formal-looking lingerie. She puts the iron aside as she reaches for her makeup bag, and I can feel the blood pulse through me again as she leans forward into the mirror with her eyeliner, her panties pulling tight and high across that perfectly curved ass.
    Goddamn, I want her again. I want to come up behind her and press right against the bureau. I want to pull those panties to the side, slip the head of my cock inside, and slowly fill her with every inch from behind.
    And I want to watch her face in that mirror when she comes for me.
    Except…
    Except judging from the coolness I got earlier, that shit is not happening. In fact, I’m one hundred percent sure that door’s been somehow shut this morning, given her attitude earlier.
    I slowly towel off, watching as she finishes her makeup, does another few touch-ups to her now straight hair with the iron, and then reaches for her clothes.
    I frown, watching the last of my morning fantasy slip away as she starts to hide that slammin’ little body behind a staid, stuffy, all-business blouse and knee-length office skirt. She bends to zip the side of the skirt, and when she looks back up, she suddenly catches my eye in the mirror and jumps a little before she turns to me.
    “What?”
    I slowly wrap the towel around my hips and lean against the bathroom doorframe again.
    “What?” I grin. “Well, first thing I'm gonna do with my new contract is buy you some clothes that don't have you looking like you work for the United Nations.”
    London flashes a quick smile before she hides it away. She finishes zipping her skirt before she steps barefoot across the room towards me. I grin as she steps right up to me.
    Finally.
    I lean down, ready to scoop her into my arms and claim that sassy little mouth all over again with my own, when she suddenly just reaches up and taps me on the nose.
    She fucking taps me on the nose , like a bad puppy or some shit.
    "What contract?"
    I frown, and she grins as she rolls her eyes.
    “I’m kidding.”
    Who IS this girl?
    She’s getting to me, and throwing me off my usual swagger, and generally fucking with my ability to keep my usual even keel.
    I shrug, playing it as cool as I can. “Yeah, the contract. Guess we never talked about that last night, huh.”
    London blushes crimson.
    Gotcha.
    She quickly brushes it off though, taking a deep breath to clear the heat from her cheeks.
    “Well, let’s discuss it.”
    “We could do other things.”
    This girl is not special. She is just like any of the other hundreds before her, and just like any of the God knows how many will come after her. And I’ll be damned if I let her think she’s got the upper hand here. I know how she moaned and how she begged for it harder and deeper and faster last night. She might have her business face on this morning, and doing her best to pretend she’s not still thinking about last night, but I know that’s all bullshit.
    And I’m determined to