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Babymaker: A Best Friend's Secret Baby Romance by B. B. Hamel (56)

4

Owen

The driver pulled up outside Taylor’s apartment and I got out. It felt weird to have a driver, but the team had insisted that if I went anywhere in the city, I had to use their official cars. That was probably just to make sure the players didn’t get themselves into trouble, which made sense.

Still, I hadn’t grown up with a damn driver. It was convenient, but I felt weird sitting in the back and letting him take me around.

I walked up to her apartment door and found her name on the list. I buzzed her and waited.

“Owen?” she answered after a second.

“It’s me,” I said.

“I’ll be down in a second.”

I leaned up against the wall, smiling to myself.

I didn’t normally go out before an early morning practice, but for some reason I couldn’t get Taylor out of my head. As I’d been sitting back at my place, I had kept seeing her in my mind, her smile and her body, and the way she pushed back at me like she didn’t want anything to do with me.

I just had to see her.

A few minutes later, she came down the stairs. She was wearing a tight little dress that accentuated her sexy, curvy body. She smiled at me as she stepped outside.

“Not bad,” I said.

She frowned. “You didn’t give me much time.”

“You don’t need it.” I nodded at the car. “Ready?”

“Where are we going?”

“Friend of mine told me about a new club in town.”

“You have friends? I thought you just got here.”

I laughed. “Okay, fine. Raylon told me about it.”

“That makes more sense.”

We headed over to the car. I opened the door for her and then climbed in beside her. The driver headed out, knowing where we were going already.

“Just to be clear,” she said, “nothing is going to happen between us.”

I looked at her and laughed. “Sure. Whatever you say.”

She made this face, adorable as fuck and defiant. “I’m serious. Nothing.”

“That dress says otherwise.”

“We’re going to a club. Was I supposed to wear a sweater?”

“I don’t know what you’re supposed to wear. I only know what that dress says.”

“It says nothing. Get it?”

“I’m pretty sure it screams, ‘fuck me until I can’t breathe.’ And I speak fluent dress.”

She sighed. “Are you always like this?”

“If you mean charming and handsome, then yes.”

She couldn’t help but smile a little bit. I liked that I was cracking that icy exterior.

The club was only a five-minute drive, and before we knew it we were pulling up outside the building. The sound of pulsing bass wafted out from the front doors softly as we climbed out. We headed to the front of the line, and the bounced nodded as he let us in.

I smiled at Taylor, and I could tell that she was impressed. The people in line weren’t too happy to see us getting in ahead of them, but that didn’t matter. Being a professional athlete had its perks.

The club was packed inside. The place was modern looking, all clean lines and wood mixed with an industrial metal vibe. The dance floor was packed, but I steered Taylor toward an empty high top table.

I got the waitress’s attention and ordered a whisky for myself and a gin and tonic for Taylor.

“Cool place,” she said loudly over the music.

“I guess.”

“Not really my scene.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know. It’s loud and crowded.”

“That’s right. It’s a club.”

“Maybe I don’t like clubs.”

“Do you like dancing?”

She shrugged. “Everyone likes dancing.”

“Then you like clubs.”

“I’m not sure that’s how it works.”

“Sure it is. Trust me. Once I get you on that dance floor, you’ll like it here.”

“Who said we’re dancing?”

I moved closer to her, my lips near her ear. She didn’t pull away, just like I knew she wouldn’t.

“I said we’re dancing.”

“This was supposed to be just one drink.”

“We’re at a club. We can’t just stand here.”

The waitress returned with our drinks. I held mine up and we clinked glasses. “To dancing,” I said.

She sighed. “Okay. Fine.”

“I knew you’d give in. Can’t resist it, can you?

“I can’t resist dancing; you’re right.”

I laughed and downed my whisky. “Come on.”

She reluctantly followed me out to the dance floor. The place was packed, but that didn’t matter to me.

The only thing I could focus on was Taylor’s body as she smiled and pressed herself against me. We fell into the rhythm of the music and danced together, our bodies pressed close in the crowd. We slowly drifted into the middle of the dance floor, other moving bodies all around us.

I only had eyes for Taylor. The girl was fucking gorgeous, and she knew how to move her hips. She gave me these coy fucking looks, pretending like she was all innocent and shit, but I could tell that there was a freak underneath all of that professional talk. The way she shook her ass only proved me right.

I was hard as fuck, but she didn’t seem to mind. She kept twisting her hips, shaking her ass, and grinding up against me. I’d danced with plenty of fucking girls in my life, but that was the first time I wanted to drag one off the dance floor and fuck her mindless in the bathroom. I felt like I couldn’t wait a second longer. Normally I liked the anticipation, the buildup, but with her it was more intense, more primal.

With every new song and new twist of her hips, I wanted more. I grabbed her and pulled her against me, feeling her hips against my hard cock. She lifted her hands up and put them above my head. Then she slowly moved them down along my hair and face as we moved together, our bodies shaking like one.

It was almost fucking. With the way her dress was riding up her hips, it really could have been. I wanted to take her right there on the dance floor, wanted to press against her until she moaned.

But just as I moved my lips down to her ear, there was a flash to our right. I stood up and looked over. Some guy was standing there with his phone out, taking a picture of us.

Taylor looked horrified. I yelled at the guy to fuck off. He disappeared into the crowd, but it was too late. Other people were looking at me, taking out their cell phones.

I took Taylor by the hand and pulled her away. We headed back toward the bar, walking fast.

“What was that?” she asked me.

“Just some asshole fan. Probably recognized me.”

“Does that happen a lot?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. We’ll find out.”

We ended up back at another high top, but the waitress was nowhere to be seen.

“Stay here,” I told her.

She frowned. “I thought just one drink.”

“You’re free to leave whenever you want,” I said to her, and then I headed over to the bar.

The crowd was two deep, but I managed to slip through. The bartender recognized me immediately and took my drink order, the same drinks as before. I glanced back toward the table and frowned.

Taylor was still there, but some guy had come up to her. I couldn’t see what they were saying, but she didn’t look too happy. As I watched, I realized that it was the same asshole from a few minutes ago who had taken my picture without asking.

The bartender came back with the drinks. I paid and tipped and picked them up as I headed back toward the table. I walked fast, because Taylor’s look of distress and annoyance had turned into anger.

“You should leave,” I heard her say loudly.

“Come on,” the guy answered, “just one dance. I want to dance with the slut Owen Rack is fucking.”

“Back off,” she said again. “I’m serious, asshole.”

“Dance with me, you slut,” he said, stepping toward her.

Calmly, I placed her drink in front of her and then slammed mine back.

“What?” the guy asked me. “You tough or something?”

I smiled at him, set my glass down, and then punched him in the jaw. He stumbled back as I stepped up to him, punching him again in the stomach and again in the face.

He dropped like a stone, blood streaming from his nose. People were staring, and I noticed more phones coming out.

“Fuck,” I said. “Piece of shit.”

The guy groaned. I turned and grabbed Taylor by the hand. I pulled her along behind me as we got out of there.

The crowd parted for us, and I pushed out through the front door.

“Hold on!” she said as we headed down the block. “Owen!”

I was so fucking angry that I could barely think. That piece of shit scumbag was being a fucking shithead to Taylor, and he deserved everything he got. But there had been a lot of phones out, and I couldn’t be sure that nobody got it on video or maybe even as some pictures.

“Owen!” Taylor said again, and finally we stopped.

“Are you okay?” I asked her.

“I’m fine. Why did you do that?”

“Because that piece of shit wouldn’t leave you alone.”

“I was handling it.”

“Did you hear what he called you?”

“So what?” She shook her head. “Owen, you’re a professional athlete. You’re a public figure now. You can’t do that sort of thing.”

“Fuck that,” I said. “I won’t back down.”

“It’s not a matter of backing down,” she said, clearly frustrated. “You have to be smart.”

I shook my head. “I’m smart to a point, but when he called you a slut, he was finished.”

She sighed. “You don’t need to defend my honor.”

“Maybe not.”

“Call the car. I want to go home.”

I looked at her for a second, and I realized that she was probably more upset about what I had done to that guy than she was over what he had said to her. I didn’t understand that, but fuck it. If she wanted to go home, I’d get her home. I got out my phone and texted the driver.

He picked us up a few minutes later. She wasn’t talking, and I wasn’t going to force her to talk. I was too fucking angry and amped up to really have a conversation anyway.

I was used to that sort of thing from college. I’d had plenty of guys step up to me and want to fuck with me just because I was good at football. I’d even had people take pictures of me.

But this had been different. It had felt like the whole club knew who I was and was staring at me. Maybe that was part of being a professional athlete, but I wasn’t letting it stop me from fucking up an asshole when he got out of line.

It just wasn’t in my personality to back down. I’d protect my girl no matter what. Even if she didn’t think she needed protecting, I’d still protect her.

We pulled up to her apartment and sat there for a second in silence.

“Look, I know you meant well.”

“Nobody talks to you that way,” I said simply.

“Thanks,” she said. “See you tomorrow.”

Without another word, she climbed out of the car and went inside.

I sighed, leaning back in the seat. I knocked on the divider once she was inside, and the driver headed out.

As we went back to my place, I still couldn’t get her out of my head. I had thought taking her out would get it out of my system, but it had only made me want her more. That dancing, that fight, it all got to me.

She was something special. I wanted more of her, and I was going to get it.

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