BULL: A Secret Baby Sports Romance (19 page)
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Authors: B. B. Hamel
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Long: A Secret Baby Sports Romance
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I’m having that cocky jock’s baby, but he won’t have me.
Gibson Evans is the best college football quarterback in the country. He’s tall, broad, tattooed, and so incredibly handsome.
And he got me pregnant. It was supposed to be just one night, but a broken condom changed all of our plans forever.
People treat him like a hero, but I think he’s a total prick. Gibson gets whatever he wants, and now suddenly he wants me.
But I have enough to deal with. I have to stop daydreaming about his hands between my thighs and concentrate on having this baby while still managing to graduate on time.
He wants to make a deal. If I promise to spend time with him, he’ll help me with my final biology research. That means an entire semester of studying Gibson’s body.
I’m not sure I can do this. One second I can’t stand to be around him, and the next I’m touching his ripped muscles and trying to suppress my excitement.
I’m terrified he’ll ruin everything if I let this become more than just work.
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He took me from the mob, and now he’s going to keep me.
Travis Rock is rough, ripped, and so deadly. He’s a bad boy Navy SEAL, and he wants to save me.
When the economy went bad, my father took a loan from the mafia to keep our farm running. Now they want their money back, and they expect me to sell my body to the highest bidder.
That’s how I first met Travis. He took me from the mob and offered me his protection.
It was supposed to last just one night. I’d let him have his way and then we’d be done.
But now the mafia wants us both dead, and he’s playing a dangerous game. I don’t want to be owned by another man, but Travis isn’t letting me get away.
I need him to keep me safe, but he might destroy me in the process.
I’m afraid that if I give in to his intense body, I’ll be completely lost forever.
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I had that bastard’s baby and now I need his help.
Vince Mori is my enemy. He’s an infamous Italian mobster, all ripped muscles and dangerous tattoos. He’s a cocky a**hole, and for just one night that was exactly what I was looking for. He was a wild ride, a way to rebel against my strict family.
And he doesn’t know that he’s the father of my baby.
I’m the daughter of one of the most feared Russian mob bosses in the city. When I give birth to my baby boy Alexei, my father wants to tear my child away from me.
I won’t let that happen. They may be my family, but I’ll do whatever it takes to keep my baby.
The Russians are at war with the Italians, but I know Vince is my only chance. When I run away from home and ask him for help, I’m risking my life to save my son.
Vince is everything I’m supposed to hate, but secretly can’t get enough of.
He’s only interested in teasing me mercilessly with his dirty mouth and frustrating grin.
Now I’m trapped in the Italian mob’s mansion, living next door to my baby’s father. I need their protection, but the war is escalating faster every day.
If the cocky jerk Vince Mori can’t learn what it means to be a father, I might be totally screwed.
T
hey say
killers can’t love.
They say killers don’t feel a thing as they move through a room like an angel of death, their guns blazing, bodies dropping all around them. The hit men that work for the Russians and for the Italians don’t care about life or death, only cold hard cash.
He was one of those angels. Instead of wings, he had thick, roped muscles and black tattoos all along his perfect skin. His cocky smile said I owed him my life, and maybe a little bit more.
I never wanted to be owned, not by anyone, not for any reason. My father thought he owned me, and all I got from that was a roof over my head and a black eye every other week.
My father was a stupid man. He was a member of the mob, but not an important one. The only thing he loved more than drinking was gambling, and he owed thousands of dollars that he couldn’t pay to bookies all over Chicago.
It didn’t surprise me when the angels of death came for him with lead and steel. They killed my father and were going to kill me until he changed his mind.
“Look what we have here,” he said to me later, after he’d dragged me from my home and locked me in a closet. Fear and something else lanced through my chest. “You’ve got lips that make my fucking dick hard.”
He was crude and so cocky. He was good with his hands and with a gun, and he thought that made him unstoppable.
But I could see through him.
“I’m taking you with me,” he’d said earlier, his voice deep and soft in my ear. “Unless you want to die here.”
I hadn’t had a choice, of course. I either let him take me or his partner put a bullet in my head.
I knew what he wanted from me. He wasn’t pretending it was anything but my body.
“I’m going to make you glad I took you,” he whispered to me days later, after so much had happened, his hands moving down my skin. “You’ll be begging me to sink my thick cock between your legs before this is done with.”
I couldn’t argue with him. I could barely speak, my body rolling with desire and anger.
I wasn’t going to be owned by anyone, not ever again. I didn’t care if people wanted the both of us dead.
I didn’t care that he was the only one who wanted to see me alive.
My angel of death. He sent chills down my spine. “I’m going to taste you,” he said. “I’m going to slide my tongue along that clit until you can’t breathe.”
I wanted to feel him, his muscles, his dangerous smile. I wanted everything he promised.
But I wasn’t his. I wasn’t giving in, no matter how much I wanted to.
I was going to escape from my angel of death if it was the last thing I did.
