The Baller's Baby (15 page)

Stacey felt the rush of arousal as Cole sought to pleasure her, his fingers diving into her wet center. Pushing her hard Cole found the deepest pleasure in her breathless gasps. Unable to wait, he settled between her legs, anxious to join with her. Bringing her mouth to his, Stacey felt the power of his need when he pierced her, sliding deep into the welcoming warmth of her body. Each thrust was a powerful reminder of their passion, of the love that flowed like water between them. Reaching for him, Stacey ran freshly clipped nails down the muscles of Cole's back, loving the tightness in his body as he strained for control.

                                                                      ***

Plunging into her, Cole felt the depth of her body press against him. Stacey's moans of pleasure were driving him mad as her body clamped down around his shaft. She rose up to meet him, her hips grinding against him as their bodies joined with a passion that was tangible. Cole took her hard, needing her pleasure to be audible. “Let me have you, baby.”

“Cole I-”

“Yes, take me,” Cole was lost now, to the rhythm of their bodies, the natural progress of giving and taking in return. Cole ran his large hands along the sleek lines of her long legs. Cupping her ass, Cole brought her hips up, clenching and releasing her bottom with the rhythm inside her body. Looking into deep, dark brown eyes, Cole smiled before taking her mouth. The kiss ran deep, like the love between them. Stacey bucked her hips, pulling Cole deeper into her center. Squeezing she pushed him back, building a rhythm that shoved Cole toward the beautiful crest. He could see her now, coming towards him. Her body wrapped in white silk as she steadily, with precise care and a focused determination, stepped closer. Closer still, until he had no choice but to jump. Cole felt his release like the first breath of air after having the wind knocked out of you. Stacey's body followed as his cock pulsed inside her, her orgasm cinching down around him in a rhythm that had her crying his name. Grabbing her hands Cole pulled them high over Stacey's head as her body simply surrendered to him and the way they made each other feel.

“I love you, Cole,” Stacey said, a huge smile on her face.

“I love you, too, Stacey.”

The lovers talked as twilight approached. Cole wrapped them beneath his comforter, hitting the button for the fireplace. Tomorrow he'd bring up some wood, but tonight they'd have to make do with the fake fire. All heat and no flame. Looking over Cole noticed that Stacey was sleeping, her head propped against his shoulder. Sliding down and adjusting his arm, Cole gently pulled Stacey into him, bringing her head onto the pillow and off his arm. Moving his arm down and around until he got comfortable. Within minutes he'd fallen asleep to the gentle sound of her deep, calm breathing.

                                                                      ***

The next morning, Cole and Stacey took Michael and Nina to a preset boxing match. Michael enjoyed explaining to Cole the different techniques and how he'd counter them if it was him in the ring. They introduced Michael to some people he'd eventually need to know and then took the couple to lunch. Stacey ate light, still feeling the ever present nausea.

“So how was your first night in New York?”

“It's quieter than I imagined,” Michael said, taking a bite of his garlic bread knot.

“That's because we don't actually live in New York City. You go downtown and try to sleep, see how that works out for you.”

“I'll take that under advisement,” Michael said, making them all smile. “So when do I start fighting?”

“You'll have to get in the ring, probably the octagon given your fighting style and background, with some rookies. Once the managers and fight promoters see how well you do, they'll adjust your schedule so that you're doing bigger fights. The more promotion, the higher the payout. Your original contract will be amended based on what you're making for the first few major fights. After a year, my rate gets slashed by fifty percent. If you stick with me, you'll know that you're getting the fights that are right for you and your percentage off the top will be phenomenal compared to other agencies around town. However, I realize that I'm not the right fit for everyone. After the first year, if you choose to find another agency, we don't renew your contract, you sign with someone else and I call you and Nina up for lunch or shopping or to babysit.”

“Speaking of, how's the baby?” Nina asked.

“It's still really early in the pregnancy so there's not much to tell. We'll know more about how the baby's doing when we see our midwife in about six weeks or so.”

“Ah, I like midwives,” Nina smiled. “I'm a little surprised they use them here in the U.S.”

“They're not as common as I'm sure they once were, but I just really like the idea of personalized care. I don't want to feel like a number or deliver under the care of someone who doesn't know me or my baby.”

“Exactly,” Nina agreed. “That's why my mother became a midwife. She felt the exact same way, so when my little brother came along, she had him at home with a midwife. When he was old enough to go to school my mother went back as well and became a certified midwife. She's helped many mothers birth their precious babies. It's a magical experience for sure.”

Cole and Stacey took Michael and Nina to a Thai marketplace and helped them shop for things they'd need to get them through the next week. Stacey ran by her office to see how things were going and told her staff she'd be back to her regular activities in a couple days. They spent the afternoon at the park and did some window shopping, stopping by some baby stores to check out the latest fashions.

“What do you think about cribs?”

“I don't know,” Stacey said, shrugging. “I'm not opposed to them really, I just don't know if I want to use one. My mother never did and I don't know. I've been reading a lot about something called a co-sleeper. Apparently it attaches to the bed and allows the baby to have a safe, roomy place to sleep close to me. It gives great access for nighttime nursing and will make sure you don't squish him.”

“Me?” Cole teased. “It's you who rolls around like a crazy person, you snuggle monkey.”

“I beg to differ, mister. I have my legs pinned by yours every time I wake up.”

“Oh please. You might be nursing him or her when the baby's born, but I've got daddy duty you know.”

“Absolutely,” Stacey laughed. “You get daddy diaper duty. Whether it's pee or poopy, it's your duty.”

Cole just watched her as Stacey nearly collapsed in a fit of laughter. Watching her he was reminded of how extraordinary his life was with her in it.

“I'll do diaper duty when you need me to Stacey,” Cole said when she was finally able to continue walking and talking. “I figure if you're going to carry our baby, birth that sweet miracle and poop while you're doing it, it's the least I can do.”

“That's so a lie,” Stacey admonished, mortified. “Women don't poop while they're in labor.”

“Maybe not, but according to a book on pregnancy, labor and delivery I've been reading, something like eighty percent of women poop while giving birth.”

“Gross,” Stacey said, making a gagging motion. “Oh why'd you have to tell me that? Now I'm not delivering.”

“Yes you are, well in about nine months or so,” Cole said, soothing Stacey's pride with a gentle rub to the small of her back as they walked around.

“Don't you have practice?” Stacey asked, as her phone started to vibrate.

“It's still a couple hours off,” Cole said, grabbing her hand and interlacing their fingers. Turning it over he looked at her engagement ring and smiled, knowing that this was just the beginning for them.

“Patterson,” Stacey said into the phone in her,
I'm all business
tone. Cole kept walking with her as she relayed information to a player who was considering a contract for the NFL. “No...Absolutely you will...yes....yes....hell no Damante. Look, I can be on a plane tomorrow morning if that's what you need,” Cole listened intently, trying to keep his irritation to a minimum. “Yes, then do it. Fax me the contracts and I'll look them over and see if I can negotiate with Denver. Alright, sounds good. Bye.”

“Who was that?”

“Damante Jackson. He's considering going to Denver, but isn't sure their contract is worth it. I'm going to compare it with another offer and see if I can get Denver to go a little higher for him. He's a phenomenal wide receiver who had extensive experience on the field and as a tight end.”

“Great,” Cole said. “That's terrific. What's he looking at?”

“I can't tell you that Cole,” Stacey said, noticing his irritation. “Look, you're my client and my fiancé` and my lover, but there are certain things I can't tell you. I can't share personal information about my other clients. In fact, I'm shifting your profile to Jack, official this week. Now that we're engaged I don't think it's prudent for us to be seen intimately and have it be known that I'm your agent.”

“Fine,” Cole said, almost pouting. “Jack did great for me while you were gone. He said if you didn't mind he was going to put together my file for the NBA.”

“That's awesome,” Stacey smiled. “I'll have him get to work on which teams he thinks you'll be suited for the most.”

“He already did,” Cole said sighing. “I didn't say anything while you were away because I wasn't sure how you felt about it and didn't want to upset you, especially after finding out about the baby.”

“It's okay,” Stacey assured him. “I'm not going to cry over spilled milk. So when do you hear something?”

“I should be hearing something before the end of the week.”

“Can you imagine?” Stacey squealed, bouncing up and down. Imagine getting the Indiana Pacers or the Miami Heat. It'd give anything to sit on the beach right now, before my belly takes over my body.”

“I wouldn't complain about Miami,” Cole agreed, pulling Stacey into a side hug. He might be irritated and she might be annoyed, but damn they made a great team and looked damn good while they were doing it.

                                                                      ***

Cole got the call two days later. He had tryouts later that week with the Miami Heat, Indiana Pacers, and the Phoenix Suns. Stacey worked with all three teams, trading emails and conference calls back and forth.

“I've got to get going or I'm going to be late,” Cole said, itching to get on the road.

“I know, I'm sorry,” Stacey said, padding to the kitchen. Still wrapped in her night robe, she looked like a pampered princess. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Cole said, tipping her face up and kissing her quick, affectionately before saying, “Goodbye,” and heading out the door.

He made it to Indiana in time to check into his hotel and settle in. The next morning the teams' personal assistant picked him up in a company car and drove him over to the Pacers stadium. Cole spent nearly thirty minutes just looking around at the place that he might be calling home for the foreseeable future.

“You must be Cole,” Frank Vogel said, extending a hand.

“I am,” Cole answered.

“Great, well we're going to put you in some gear and see what you know about basketball,” Frank said. Thirty minutes later Cole was scrimmaging like articulated back yard school ball. There weren't any rules except to get the ball to the net and score.

Frank watched Cole's footwork, dribbling, ball handling and improvised thinking. He made notations about how many times Cole dribbled before shooting, his shooting percentages from the side and top three point line, the top of the key, the paint and free throw lines.  Two hours later Cole, feeling like a million bucks sat on the bench next to Frank a wet towel on his head.

“You've definitely got some skill,” Frank said. “You're footwork is great and your dribbling is passable. You shoot well from the key and paint, but your three pointers need some work, especially from the sides.”

“I couldn't agree more,” Cole said, nodding.

“That being said,” Frank continued. “I'd like you to stick around and watch the team play tonight, if your schedules' clear?”

“Absolutely,” Cole said, shaking the coach's hand, “I'd love to.”

“Great.”

Cole stayed for the game and got back on the road for New York the next morning. He made it home as evening settled over the city. As he stepped from his car, he saw Stacey silhouetted in the doorway, waiting for him. Their kiss echoed the changing state of their relationship. While passionate it was also sweet and solid, stable in the knowledge that theirs was a love that was meant to last.

“So, how'd it go?” Stacey asked, unable to contain her excitement.

“Vogel thinks I've got talent, but was adamant that I need help with my three point shots, especially from the sides. I didn't disagree with him. I'd like to do the talks with the Heat and Suns still though.”

“That sounds like a smart idea.”

“Good,” Cole said, taking off his jacket.

The Suns ran a hard man-to-man defense that Cole thrived on. He strong, successful picks, great ball handling and confident leadership had the Suns faxing a contract to Stacey to perusal. Cole would start as a rookie of course, but with his experience level so advanced, he'd be given a veteran's salary; two point five million a year for three years. After that he'd be free to resign, renegotiate, or change teams.