Quarterback's Unknown Baby Daughter: A Secret Baby Sports Romance Read online

  “That was a funny move,” she says with a low chuckle. “About the kissing. Do they teach you witty comebacks at training camp, in addition to passing plays?”

  “No, that one I thought up on my own. Us jocks aren’t the wittiest bunch, but I do know how to work the field.”

  “It was brilliant.” She nods. “You make a wonderful father. She’s already in love with you, I can tell.”

  “Hmm.” I grunt. “Goal accomplished. I’m in love with her too. It’s only been a few days, but I can’t imagine not having her in my life.” I turn to look at her again. “Or you. How does Mama feel about falling in love?”

  Deanna lifts her face to mine and levels me with that deep green gaze that takes my breath away, holding me in its grip until she speaks.

  “I think it’s like good whiskey,” she finally says. “Burning hot the first time, and twice as good the second.”

  My throat tightens at her response, the underlying meaning hitting me square in the balls. Damn inconvenient getting a hard on in the middle of Central Park. If she’s serious, if this is her way of saying she forgives me and feels the same attraction re-igniting between us, I don’t think I can spend another night in separate bedrooms.

  Visions of what’s possible race through my brain; could what we see at this moment be permanent? The three of us, making a go of a proper family life, maybe even having more children... Building a home in the country... maybe next door to my folks... My folks! I’ve not been in touch lately and hellfire if they wouldn’t be pleased as punch to know they have a granddaughter.

  “Oh!” Deanna gasps as we practically smash into poor Grace who has stopped walking and is standing directly in our path, football in hand.

  “Whoa there, missy. Didn’t see you there.”

  She looks back and forth between us, her face a study in the art of thoughtful deduction, her lips in a pout.

  “Wyatt, are you my father?” she asks point blank, as sure and deadly as pulling the trigger on a gun.

  I nearly fall backward with the invisible shot. Deanna releases my arm and sweeps Grace into a hug.

  “Oh, Gracie,” she says, her voice calm and even. “You’re so smart. You’re exactly right. Wyatt is your daddy.”

  I blink and give myself a mental shake. The intent of this trip was to break that news, but I hadn’t seen it going down quite this way. I’m grateful that at least one of us had our wits about us to handle the situation. I look about and spot a nearby bench.

  “Why don’t we all sit down and talk about this,” I say, guiding the pair of them toward it.

  “Good idea,” Deanna says, turning so that one arm is around Grace’s shoulders as we walk to the bench.

  We settle down with Grace between us.

  “It’s what we planned to tell you while we were here in New York,” I go on. “But I guess we didn’t have to; you figured it out on your own.”

  “You’re really my dad? No bull?”

  “No bull.” I laugh.

  Deanna looks slightly mortified at her word use, but if Grace hangs out with football players, I’m sure she’s heard worse expressions.

  Grace confronts her mom. “You said my daddy didn’t want me and that you and he went your separate ways. But you were still friends all this time. You lied to me.”

  “Oh, honey, it wasn’t a lie. We just didn’t see each other for a long time. And I never said he didn’t want you; I said we wanted different things. He was busy becoming the best football player he could be, just like you are. It takes a lot of focus to be the best, right?”

  Grace considers this, then nods. “Yeah, it does.”

  “And now he is the best, and wants to share all the good things he’s worked real hard for with us.”

  Grace turns to face me directly. “So, you just weren’t ready to be my dad before, but now you are?”

  I give a firm nod. “You bet I am. I’m sorry I took so long, sweetie.”

  Grace breaks into a wide smile, more beautiful to me than any sunrise or sunset that I’ve ever witnessed on this Earth. I’m blinded by its radiance and melted inside by its warmth. This is what parenthood feels like – being lifted to the heavens with a single smile from your child. This is my girl, my flesh and blood, the tie that binds. This is God’s gift.

  “That’s okay,” she says brightly. “My teacher always says, ‘Good things take time.’” And just like that, she’s accepting of the whole situation. I’m truly amazed. Grace glances back and forth between us, still grinning. “This is so awesome! Wait ‘til I tell the team that my daddy is Wyatt Connor! And my friends at school!”

  We all laugh together, and I’m relieved at having set the record straight. But broadcasting our family tree just yet is out of the question, and I can tell by the look on her face that Deanna concurs.

  “Well, that’s something else, honey,” Deanna says. “We wanted you to know the truth, but you can’t go telling all your friends yet, okay?”

  “Why not?” Grace’s joyful expression dims.

  “Well, you know that your daddy’s very famous. And you know how nosy the TV stations and newspapers and magazines are about famous people, right?”

  “Yeah, I know,” she says with a sigh of disappointment.

  “So, it’s important how we handle this; keep it private until everything’s settled, okay? Promise?”

  “I promise,” Grace affirms. “Under one condition.”

  We both look at each other in surprise over Grace’s head.

  “And what’s that?” I ask.

  “That we take one of those horse-drawn carriage rides. Right now.”

  Deanna rolls her eyes, but I have to admire our girl’s negotiating skills.

  “Oh, now that’s asking a lot,” I say with a wink. “But I think it can be arranged. You drive a hard bargain, Miss Player of the Game.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Wyatt

  COMING CLEAN

  It’s been a whirlwind week, and it’s nearly over. Grace and Deanna have to catch a flight back to Odessa in the morning, and I’m not looking forward to living in an empty penthouse again. I got used to having the two of them around; it made the place a home and not just a mailing address.

  I’m sitting shirtless in the living room, watching TV and thumbing through texts on my phone, keeping a pulse on the sports world and my team obligations while the two of them fuss about in their rooms, packing their suitcases and getting Grace ready for bed. The fragrance of sweet-smelling shower gel and shampoo wafts to my nostrils all the way from the bathroom at the end of the hall. I’m going to miss all the girly scents and sounds, colorful clothes and multiple pairs of shoes scattered about the place.

  I’ll especially miss the pleasure of admiring Deanna’s sexy curves as she sashays around the house. The willowy young blonde I used to know has turned into a voluptuous goddess I can barely keep my hands or thoughts away from, and the hinted-at but unconfirmed acceptance of a renewed relationship between us is making me a little crazy. I don’t want to rush things, but damn, the need to get her in my bed and fuck her six ways from Sunday is becoming nigh on unbearable. We have to try and come to some sort of agreement on the path forward before they leave.

  Grace comes running into the room and throws her arms around my neck. “Goodnight, daddy!” she says, planting a kiss on my cheek. No sweeter words have ever been spoken to me than those.

  “Goodnight, Grace. Y’all get some sleep now so we can get you to the airport on time.”

  “I will. You get some too; you have a big game coming up.” She releases her hold on me and pats me on the head before trotting off to her room.

  “Thanks, coach!” I call after her, shaking my head in amusement that she’s memorized my game schedule. What a character.

  I turn back to the sports news, and in a few moments, the living room lights switch off. I look up and watch in fascination as Deanna enters the room clad only in a gauzy nightgown and lands her sexy behind next to me on the so
fa.

  I clear my throat. “Hey, Mama. Our girl all tucked in?”

  “Yes, and asleep finally.” Deanna sighs. “It’s been an exciting week. She doesn’t realize how tired she is.”

  I nod in agreement, and on reflex slip an arm around her shoulders. Things have become comfortable enough between us that the gesture seems completely natural, even casual. But right now, the last thing on my mind is to be just casual with Deanna. The warmth and nearness of her, wearing next to nothing, is stirring every part of my body to life.

  “I don’t know how long we’ll be able to keep this all a secret,” she confides. “I trust Grace, but something’s bound to slip sooner or later. What are we going to do about that?”

  I’ve been avoiding the issue of how to handle a public announcement for a while now, but am no closer to making a decision. This past week I’d put it out of my mind completely so I could enjoy my time with Grace and Deanna.

  “You’re right. Talking to Grace was only step one. I have a meeting scheduled with the staff and coaches in a few days; I should advise them first, then let our PR team take it from there.” I look Deanna in the eyes. “It will eventually put you and Grace in the media spotlight. Are you prepared for that?”

  Her luscious mouth puckers into a determined line. “I reckon we’ll have to be.”

  I’m thinking about kissing all that concern clean off her lips when something else occurs to me. “Maybe there’s a way to test the waters. I know you have your business to run and all, but what would you think about coming back here in a few weeks? On your own, without Grace?”

  An adorable wrinkle creases her brow. “Why?”

  “An annual fundraiser is coming up that I’m expected to attend. Big dinner gala, thousand-dollar a plate kinda thing for charity. I’m a little tired of going alone, honestly. I’d be honored if you’d go with me. If you can get away.”

  She hesitates and looks away for a moment. “I’m not sure... I’d hate to put all that extra stress on Hannah... and I’ll have to ask Mama if she’ll stay with Grace while I’m gone. She’s back from her cruise, but... I can’t say until after I talk to her.”

  “I understand. But if she says yes, will you come? Be my date?” I give her shoulders a playful squeeze.

  “Oh, Wyatt, I...” She twists her fingers together, not finishing her sentence. Have I said something wrong? I felt we were moving closer together all week, but she seems reluctant now. “I’d like to, but...”

  Now she’s got me worried. Did all the great moments we’ve had in the past few days mean nothing? Is there no chance for us after all?

  “But, what? Tell me.”

  “I’m sorry, I know you paid for it and all, but... I’m afraid of flying. I’m not sure I want to do it again.”

  I try not to laugh. I’m a little shocked at this news but also relieved that her trepidation isn’t stemming from something more serious. This is, at least, a problem I can help fix.

  “Well, darlin’, there aren’t a lot of ways to get from Odessa to NYC other than flying unless you have three extra days to sit on a train or a bus. If I make sure you’re in first class and arrange for an airline representative to travel with you, would that make you feel better? Safer?”

  “You can do that?”

  In the blue glow of the television screen, Deanna looks so sweet and sexy in that damn nightgown. I’m transported once again to those faraway teenage days when all we had to worry about was who might catch us getting hot and heavy in the back seat. But here, now, there are no prying eyes or wagging tongues to hold us back.

  I nod and reach out to touch a luminous golden strand of her hair, reveling in its silken texture and the beauty of all that is her... my first love. The mother of my child.

  “Yes, I can. Will that make you say yes?”

  She laughs softly. “Maybe.”

  “Maybe a yes?”

  “Yes. Maybe yes...” She giggles.

  “I’m not sure that’s good enough,” I say, pulling her in until we’re nose to nose. The heat from her body and the heady smell of fragrant soap is making me sweat... in a good way. My hand slips down to touch her breast through the thin material, squeezing gently. “Anything I can do to help that decision along? Eliminate that maybe?”

  “Wyatt...”

  “I’m right here,” I whisper, bending down to kiss the skin of her throat and move south, planting a trail of more kisses.

  “Yes, you are,” she whispers back. “Right there.”

  “Anywhere else I should go?” I murmur against the soft mound cupped in my hand.

  My cock is straining against my jeans, demanding attention. I push aside the narrow shoulder strap of her gown and let the fabric fall away. Her hands are stroking the tight muscles of my back as she arches into my embrace, pressing the magnificent orb of her nude breast to my face. My tongue finds her nipple, roving in circles around the throbbing tip until it tightens to pebble hardness.

  “Yes,” she gasps out.

  “No more maybe?” I tease, dragging my tongue across the exquisite, rigid little nub while gliding my palm up the creamy expanse of her exposed thigh.

  “No,” she replies, bracing her hands on my shoulders and pushing us apart.

  I look up in surprise at her reaction. Christ, this is not the time to change tack with both of us all hot and bothered.

  She shakes her head. “No more maybe. I’ll go anywhere that you want me to, Wyatt. But I haven’t thanked you properly for this wonderful week. I’d like to show you my gratitude.” She pushes me farther, forcing me flat on my back.

  I don’t resist, but wonder what she’s got in mind. “By all means, show me.”

  Her hands fly to my belt, deftly popping the rivet on my jeans and pulling the zipper. In a flash, my aching cock pops free of its restraints, standing tall and proud as a flagpole on Independence Day. God Bless America.

  Deanna straightens, straddling my legs. “Now don’t y’all move...” she whispers, a delightfully evil smile on her face.

  Not a chance.

  She grasps the hem of her nightgown and slips the entire garment over her head and tosses it to the floor. My God, she’s all gorgeous tits and flowing blonde hair floating above me like a goddess from Olympus, and before I can admire the view any further she leans forward and... Holy. Fuck.

  My mind goes blank as her lips caress the red, swollen dome of my cock, then she slowly takes my length inside the hot, wet cave of her mouth. I let out a mindless groan as she works it up and down, worshipping it like a Popsicle on a hot Texas day, taking long, glorious sloppy licks and sucking hard.

  I could happily lay here for hours taking this treatment, but fear I may not be able to hold out that long. As I near the danger zone, I gently tug on her long locks that are fisted in both my hands to make her stop. She raises her head and lets my anxious member spring free of its heavenly prison.

  “Am I doing it right?” she murmurs, blowing air across my shimmering wet skin.

  Doing it right? She could write a how-to book on the subject.

  “Oh yeah, baby, right as rain, but...”

  “Then hush...” She moves to reposition herself. She rises to her knees and inches forward, nesting the tip of my waiting cock in the lovely trimmed triangle of her pussy.

  Oh, Mother of Mercy.

  Deanna lowers her hips over me, her sweet inner walls claiming my shaft, inch by delicious inch until I’m balls deep inside her.

  “Deanna...”

  She puts a finger to her lips, then points toward the bedroom and our sleeping daughter. I smile and shut up.

  “Just enjoy the ride, cowboy,” she whispers. She wiggles her hips, twisting my buried cock in the most delightful way then rises up on her knees again, readying for another salvo.

  I’ve been around ranches plenty, but there’s no wild ride to compare with this. I stifle a grunt of pleasure as her body slams down on mine, the happy smacking of flesh on flesh the only sound in the room as she ride
s me into the wild blue yonder, where the last reins of my control snap and break.

  My world goes white as I let everything go, plummet over the cliff like the ill-fated buffalo, my cock pulsing and blasting shot after shot of hot cum all the way down.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Deanna

  FISH OUT OF WATER

  “Do I look alright?” I ask as I stand before the mirror in Wyatt’s giant walk-in closet, running my hands across the shimmering gold fabric of my strapless gown. The push-up bodice produces some serious cleavage, and the full-length skirt stretches snugly across my thighs then fans out at the knee. I’ve never worn anything so outlandish and provocative in my life, and I’m afraid I look like a giant golden mermaid.

  I’m nervous enough about what people will think of my appearance, but as Wyatt strides up behind me I reckon not even my dazzling dress compares to the dashing figure he cuts in his exquisite designer tux. Expertly fitted over his broad shoulders and impressive chest, it makes him look even more ultra-masculine than in his football uniform – if that’s possible. I already feel inferior despite the magnificent gown and matching heels he’s bought me for this occasion.

  “Stunning,” he replies, placing his hands on my bare shoulders and gazing at our dual reflection.

  “The dress is stunning. I’m not so sure about me.”

  Wyatt smiles and kisses the skin where my neck and shoulder meet. “Deanna. Don’t be so unsure of yourself. You’re a gorgeous woman. My woman. And tonight, the whole world will know it.”

  My heart flutters at his words. If only my stubborn brain would allow me to believe them. My second flight to the Big Apple wasn’t nearly as scary thanks to Wyatt’s careful planning. But now I don’t know what I’m doing standing here about to step into a grand ballroom at the Met with the most handsome hunk of man in the whole world. At least the handsomest in my world. I’m nervous as hell. I’m no New York debutante.

  “Are you sure I’ll fit in? I don’t know what to expect at these kinds of things, how to act, how to walk or eat. And my accent is pure Texas barbecue.”