Dirty Jock Read online

  Dirty Jock

  Sienna Valentine

  Dirty Jock

  Sienna Valentine

  Copyright © 2017 Sienna Valentine

  All rights reserved.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, dialogue, and everything else are products of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to people or events, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  A Note From Sienna

  As a special limited time bonus, I’ve included a few bonus novels at the end of this copy. So although Dirty Jock is about 70,000 words alone, that story will end before 100% on your device because there is plenty more steamy content to enjoy!

  Thanks for reading!

  1

  Tanner

  "Come out, come out, wherever you are..."

  I leapt around the corner into my kitchen, yelling out "Aha!" to an empty room, just as the timer on my phone began to chime. I gave it a quick tap to reset it for another two minutes.

  Since I had to take something off again, I elected for my pants this time. My socks had been the first to go, so now I was left in just my jersey and boxers.

  No one played strip hide-and-go-seek as well as me. Mostly because I invented the game.

  Less than ten minutes ago.

  "Losers have to act as a sex slave for the rest of the night," I called out, returning to the main room of my penthouse and dropping my clothes onto the floor.

  "No fair, that wasn't in the rules!" The muffled squeal of protest came from the hall closet. I just shook my head, wondering if Abbey had revealed herself on purpose.

  "This game is cutting edge. The rules are still being refined."

  Abbey practically rolled out as I yanked open the door. She was giggling as she looked up at me from the floor, towering over her in just my boxers and jersey. My phone alarm chimed again and she stopped giggling, raising an eyebrow at me.

  "What do we do now, Flash?" she asked.

  I shrugged. "You got caught, that means you have to strip completely. But I still haven't won, so I lose another piece, too."

  Abbey giggled again, but didn't hesitate to start pulling off her clothes. It took longer than it should have, and not because she was trying to be sexy. We'd already had far too much wine.

  Still, I watched until she was sitting naked, surrounded by a pool of brightly colored cloth.

  Those tits can't possibly be real.

  "Well?" She nodded up at my team jersey—LA Stars logo emblazoned brilliantly on the front—as she swayed slightly.

  "Right."

  I knew what she was expecting, and I hate to do what people expect, so I did the complete opposite. Before she could react, I slid my shorts down to my feet and then flicked them away with my foot as I stood.

  Judging by how much white I could see in Abbey’s eyes, she was surprised. But judging by her sloppy smile, she wasn’t disappointed. "That's... not what I thought you'd take off next."

  I started to laugh, but it came out as more of a choked cough when she quickly pushed herself up to her knees and grabbed me by the base of the cock.

  "Hang on," I protested. Obviously my move was as much an invitation as anything, but I was having second thoughts given how drunk we both were. Well, mostly her. But my dick hardened anyway, which didn't help to add any weight to my words. "The game's not over yet, what are you doing?"

  Abbey shrugged, a wicked grin teasing the corner of her lips. "Refining the rules." Then she winked and leaned forward, and it took every ounce of willpower I had to put my hand against her forehead to stop her from reaching her prize.

  Her disappointed squeal was almost enough to make me reconsider, but I knew the cheerleader kneeling before me would get over the disappointment. There was always tomorrow, after all. Or even later, if and when we sobered up. Abbey's blow jobs were the stuff of legend, and wasn't this the whole reason I'd invited her over in the first place?

  "Umm, what the fuck is going on here?"

  Correction. Invited them over.

  Tessa stood at the bottom of the stairs watching us. She looked annoyed.

  "I told Abbey the game wasn't over yet," I explained, happy to shift the blame. Tessa sometimes had a temper as dark as her hair, and a jealous streak to match.

  "So you guys were just going to leave me upstairs to hide all night, by myself?"

  "We started the game like ten minutes ago," I pointed out. Abbey remained kneeling before me, completely naked. She didn't even bother to try to cover up, and her one hand was still wrapped around my cock.

  I couldn’t help but admire her focus, even when drunk.

  Tessa pouted for a moment. "Well, whatever. I guess that means I win. By default."

  I wasted no time arguing with tipsy cheerleader number two. Instead, I reached down and pulled off my jersey. "I guess so." That was the beauty of strip hide-and-go-seek. There might be a winner, but there were definitely no losers. "So come collect your prize, then."

  She pursed her lips, eyes narrowing as she looked at me.

  "What, you don't consider this a prize?"

  Tessa was only able to hold back her smile for another second at the ridiculousness of me waving my hands in front of my naked body while her friend continued to crouch before me.

  She left a trail of clothes behind her as she approached. "I think this whole game of yours was rigged from the start, Flash."

  "It might have been," I agreed. Then I grabbed Abbey by the wrist, freeing my cock and guiding her back to her feet at the same time. Letting her stay there much longer would completely weaken my resolve, which was already dangerously close to breaking completely. I could see in Tessa's eyes that she was expecting the same thing and it was time for me to redirect. I grabbed the raven-haired cheerleader by her pale white ass and pulled her in for a quick kiss.

  "Why don't we discuss how unfair I was over here on the couch where we can get comfortable. Maybe we can put on a movie?"

  "A movie?" Both girls burst into a fit of giggles. "Did you really invite us over here just to literally Netflix and chill?" This time it was Tessa's fingers that grazed along my cock as she spoke.

  "Girls, girls, there's no rush. Number eighty-eight is only fast on the field, but I like to take my time in the bedroom." I glanced quickly at the couch I was leading the girls to and then amended myself. "Or living room, in this case."

  The girls shared a look and then shrugged, following closely after me. I stretched a soft blanket out across the cold leather of the couch and we all settled into a heap of body parts. There was far more shifting and getting comfortable than I'm sure was required, as each girl found a reason to slide a variety of tight and soft body parts against me while I chose a movie. But once I flicked a switch that dimmed the lights and the movie got going, it wasn't long before both of them had fallen asleep.

  Just as well. Judging by all the empty bottles on the coffee table, we were all in for a hell of a morning hangover. I didn’t have nearly as many drinks as they had, but still far more than I ever would have if the season wasn’t already over and I had a game to play in the near future.

  I settled in, letting sleep tug at me. I had a feeling these girls were going to want to make up for lost time in the morning, and once they’d sobered up, I'd be out of excuses.

  Not that I needed any. It really was the only reason I’d invited them both over in the first place, after all.

  I woke the next morning sandwiched between two gorgeous and completely naked cheerleaders. We were still lying in a heap on my couch, with Abbey wedged deeply between the back and bottom cushions, me sprawled across her and Tessa draped against my back. Other than the one keeping us from sticking to the leather, we hadn't needed any other blankets. We were creating enough heat of our own to keep us w
arm.

  At first I lay there grinning, trying to work through the hazy memories of the night before to latch onto some mental image of what we must have gotten up to. But my smile faded as I remembered that not only had we not actually done anything, but that not doing anything had been my idea.

  What the hell was I thinking?

  The pounding in my head answered that question even before I spied all the empty bottles. Still, that was last night's excuse. Today was a new day, and regardless of how badly my head was pounding, I had a reputation to uphold. No one would respect a football star like me that sent a couple of hot cheerleaders home without a proper fucking.

  I had a job to do, and one with purpose beyond simply getting my dick wet.

  I’d decided that a three-way might be all I needed to lift me out of the sour mood I’d been in lately, and I still hadn't tested that theory. It had been more than two months since Bullet misfired, ending our playoff run prematurely and sending us all on an early vacation, and I still hadn't let it go.

  Coop had been arguing since it happened that Bullet did us a favor, starting the party early instead of forcing us into the playoffs, but that's just because Coop doesn't give a shit about a championship ring. He’d always just been happy with his fat paycheck and all the partying it could bankroll.

  I love to party as well, but I wanted to go all the way. And we could have this year.

  We should have.

  Two seconds left and I was open, I could have won us the game and given us a shot.

  Fucking Bullet.

  The dark cloud that had been looming over me threatened to reappear.

  Let it go, Garrick. There's always next year. What's done is done, and Cooper's right. It's time to get into party mode.

  Hell, it was time two months ago, but I still had a couple months before practice for the new season started, and I wasn't willing to let regret waste those as well.

  Fucking two cheerleaders at once was how I had planned to kick it all off.

  Maybe three would have been better.

  The way I figured it, the more of them I invited over at once, the safer I'd be. If I just invited one, she may have gotten the wrong idea. She may have considered the whole thing a date, instead of just a hookup. And then if I'd compounded that by letting her spend the night like I'd just done... well, that would have led to even more complications.

  One night is the same as two days. And soon two days turns into three.

  Three becomes a week.

  Then all of a sudden the girl is leaving shit at your place, co-opting drawer space until you make a joke that they might as well move in and then bam! You're in a relationship.

  That just wasn't my scene. Relationships are a lot of work and headache, and they rarely work out. I've seen how bad they can get, first hand.

  No thank you.

  Nothing kills a buzz like responsibility and having to worry about someone other than yourself. And when you're looking to party, who the hell needs responsibility. I'd had more than my share of that.

  I was just getting ready to wake the cheerleaders when a sharp knock at my door startled me. Both girls continued to sleep, completely dead to the world, even as I wrenched myself out from between them. They only stirred enough to shift around until they found each other, pressing their soft parts together with a contented sigh.

  The living room couch was turned away from the front door, but still visible from the open hallway, so I was forced to throw a blanket over that beautiful sight despite a twitching protest from my morning wood. Grabbing my pants from across the room, I pulled them on quickly as I made my way to the peephole of my pounding door. I was determined to get rid of whoever it was quick enough that I wouldn't waste the throbbing erection that was creating an obscene angle from beneath my tight sweats.

  There was a woman standing there, looking away from the door and down the hall. It was hard to tell through the distorted lens and without her looking directly at the door, but she seemed pretty. Did we actually invite a third girl over last night after all? My hazy memories made the theory of another pre-breakfast booty call seem plausible.

  I unlocked the door and yanked it open, suddenly excited by the idea.

  The redheaded beauty standing there turned to me in surprise. She was a knockout, and for some reason that just reinforced the assumption that she was looking to join our party.

  Wishful thinking, perhaps.

  "Tanner J. Garrick?" she asked, recovering quickly. Her emerald eyes swept over my half naked body quickly, pausing noticeably at the bulge in my pants. But when she met my gaze again there was shock on her face where I'd hoped to see lust.

  I should have taken that as a sign, but it was far too early and I was far too horny to be thinking with the head on my shoulders.

  "You come to join our little party? As you can tell, you're overdressed, but I can help you catch up."

  She just stared at me, eyes wide. Suddenly another woman appeared from the direction of the elevator. She was older, hair that was already beginning to gray pulled into a tight bun. But what was more shocking was that she was carrying a small, sleeping child.

  "Are you Tanner?" the first woman repeated, choosing to ignore my earlier comment. Given that there was a kid next to her, that was probably for the best.

  "Yeah," I nodded. "What—"

  "Tanner, my name is Delaney, and this here is Isabella." The redhead gestured at the kid. "Your daughter."

  Oh, shit.

  2

  Delaney

  Given that football players all acted like Neanderthal's on the field, I guess I shouldn't have been surprised that Tanner just stood there gaping at me like he hadn't understood a word I'd said. I still wasn't sure any of this was a good idea, but I only had myself to blame.

  "Well, are you going to leave us standing out here in your hallway?" Miss Myers' voice was filled with a sternness I was sure had been intentionally honed from years of practice in dealing with men like Tanner Garrick. "With a child?"

  And that little touch of added guilt made it even more effective. Her reputation was clearly warranted.

  "Uh..." At first, her voice seemed to have the desired effect, and some of the smirk drained from the jock's face as he looked uncertainly back over his shoulder. He still stood in our way, shirtless, with abs that seemed chiseled by Michelangelo himself and shoulders, biceps and part of his chest covered in strikingly detailed tattoos—not that I noticed. But when he turned back, his icy blue eyes turned to more of a cold fire.

  He took a moment to let his gaze travel slowly up and down my body. It was a lingering look that hovered and paused over all the inappropriate places, but finally settled on my face as he spoke directly to me.

  "Look, I don't know what kind of a scam you ladies are trying to run here, but I can tell you right now that you and I have never fuc—" he cut himself off, shooting a quick glance at the still sleeping child, and then continuing with a slight change of language anyway "—never met before, let alone had a baby together. Trust me, honey, the more beautiful the face, the more likely I am to remember it. So I know I would have never forgotten yours."

  Was he seriously trying to flirt even as he was accusing me of being a liar or some sort of con artist?

  Gia, Gia, Gia. I loved you, girl, but you had some seriously bad taste in men. I mean, there was no denying how gorgeous Tanner was, but he was also clearly an absolute dirtbag. It seemed like everything I’d ever read about him in the media was true.

  "I'm not her mother," I snapped. Right then, anger seemed a more appropriate emotion than the tears that would usually accompany thoughts of my best friend.

  "Mr. Garrick," Miss Myers stepped forward, thrusting a business card forward with such authority that the football player just took it with a blink. "My name is Belinda Myers, and I work for Child Protective Services. We have reason to believe that this here is your daughter, Isabella Marcelo. Her mother is the recently deceased Gia Marcelo. Before she passed, s
he confided to her best friend here, Miss Delaney Chase, that you were the father."

  Tanner opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by a sudden giggling from behind. As he turned, his body twisted enough to allow me a glimpse at not one, but two naked women lying on his couch. As soon as they saw us standing in the doorway, their eyes went wide and one of them lifted a blanket up to cover them. Mostly.

  Now it was my mouth that hung open. No wonder he hadn't invited us in.

  "Oh," said the blond, as she looked from face to face. "We thought you invited someone else to join the party."

  "I think the party's over, Abbey," the other whispered in a voice that was almost comically too loud. Then the two of them leapt from the couch and wrapped themselves more completely in blankets as they rushed around the room, gathering clothing before scampering up a staircase and disappearing from sight.

  If Tanner was embarrassed by that at all, he certainly didn't show it. If anything, he looked even more annoyed at being reminded of what we'd interrupted.

  "Okay, right, so you two are here to tell me that some gal that I may or may not have slept with a few years ago has claimed I'm the father of her kid." He shook his head, letting out a sigh. "Do you think this is the first time someone has tried to pull the 'this is your baby' scam on me, Laney?"

  I grimaced at the all-too-familiar and casual way he shortened my name. I could tell by the way his eyes lit up that my discomfort amused him. Great.

  "No one is looking to scam you, Mr. Garrick," I countered. "Trust me, I’m no happier at being here than you are."

  "And yet here you are anyway. You just said her mother is..." he looked at Izzy and paused for a moment, "...is gone. But she never came looking for me and she never asked me for anything. Yet here you are, looking for a payday. Very nice. I hope this kid has a better support system in her life than you, Laney."