Moody: A Bad Boy Sports Romance Read online

  A savage, masculine groan is his response.

  Moody’s expression is tight, eyes gleaming with lust.

  I sit up, lowering my head, as both hands curl around his thick shaft, and lick the small bead of liquid from the head of his cock. His hands slip into my hair and my name tears from his throat roughly, “God, Izzy.”

  Licking the head, I swipe my tongue over the tight flesh, then take the heavy width of him into my mouth.

  A strangled curse falls from his lips and his fingers tighten in my hair.

  I lick and suck, savoring the heat and taste of him.

  “Feels so good.” His voice is rough and heavy with desire.

  The tight length of his cock throbs in my mouth, and I know he’s close to the edge.

  I lift my gaze to his as I continue to suck, and a soft moan catches in my throat when I meet his eyes.

  “So damn beautiful.” His voice is strained. “And that mouth of yours is going to be my undoing.”

  I’ve never taken pleasure in the act, not like I do now, seeing the satisfaction in his expression.

  I almost forgot how good he feels. How sweet he tastes. And I’m not willing to let it go. Not again. I’m tired of being miserable. Living a passionless existence. Afraid of being burned.

  This – no matter how long it lasts – is worth it.

  Taking him deeper in my mouth, hearing his masculine groan, everything but him disappears, and I give into the flames that lick at me, threatening to consume the last hint of trepidation I’m holding onto.

  Moody’s face is flushed with lust, his eyes gleaming back at me with hunger.

  Him. This. Us.

  Damn if it isn’t the best thing I’ve ever experienced. And I know now, that I’ll do anything to hold onto it. To hold onto him.

  Chapter 20

  Moody

  Her mouth is sweeter than honey, but it’s her eyes, the flash of pleasure I see that makes me nearly lose the thin edge of control I’m barely holding onto.

  The head of my cock disappears into that sweet little mouth, her tongue stroking the sensitive underside. Her moan is like a caress, warm and rippling, making my balls tighten further with the need to come.

  “Izzy. No more, sweetheart.”

  She pouts up at me when I draw back, and I can’t help the smile that plays on my lips. But I have no plans on coming this soon.

  I use my size to press her back against the couch. This wasn’t my intention coming here. I’d planned on telling her about the deal I made with Jason. I know she’ll be mad. Probably try and talk me out of it. But I don’t want to think about that now, not when her sexy little body is under me, begging to be touched.

  Feathering my lips over hers, I shift between her legs, spreading them apart with my knees.

  “This right here…” I cup one breast, and flick my thumb over the nipple, making her squirm beneath me. “…is heaven on earth.”

  “Heaven is when you’re buried eight inches inside me.” Her hips arch towards my cock, trying to move against me, her wetness coating my erection.

  I groan and have to hold myself back from not giving into demand right then and there.

  “You’re killing me.” I suck her nipple into my mouth, savoring each little mewl that comes from her mouth.

  “I want you inside of me.” Her fingers are in my hair, pulling, tugging, while her body twists and squirms beneath me.

  “Always so demanding.” I nip at her breast gently and she lets out a small cry.

  “If you hadn’t made me wait four years.”

  “Smart ass.” I kiss her hard. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll make it up to you.”

  Leaning over her, I grab my discarded jeans and pull a foil wrapper from the pocket.

  Izzy licks her lips as she watches me sheath myself.

  Fist gripping my throbbing cock, I position myself between her hips. She squirms beneath me, greedy as always, and I have to hold back from sliding inside her with one powerful thrust.

  “God, you feel so good.” My voice is harsh as I work myself deeper. “So tight.”

  My cock throbs, heated and iron hard as I press to the hilt. I nearly come when I feel her muscles clench around me.

  Her fingers grip my hips, nails digging into my flesh. I start to move, slowly at first, taking my time and enjoying each little moan, drawing out the pleasure.

  It isn’t long before my thrusts become harder, quicker. Her hips writhe against me as I slam into her, giving her what she begs me for.

  “More,” she cries out. “Don’t hold back.”

  “You make me lose control.” My lips latching onto one of her taut nipples, driving into her until we’re breathless.

  She cries out my name, trembling and clenching beneath me, as her body convulses. I’m not far behind her, needing only a few thrusts before I explode.

  Izzy buries her head in my neck as the final shudders ease through her. I can feel her smiling against my skin.

  I shift up on my forearm, taking some of my weight off her, but not ready to leave her completely. I’m still buried deep inside of her.

  “Have I ever told you how incredible sexy you are?” I brush her still damp hair off her face, then rest my forehead against hers.

  A small blush creeps up her cheeks. “I’m glad you decided to come over.”

  I chuckle and start to move, watching her mouth turn into a little pout as I climb off the couch, grabbing my pants.

  Her eyes are on me, scanning my body, watching me with appreciation. She pulls her discarded towel over herself and stands.

  “Are you staying?” she asks, hope coloring her voice.

  “As long as you feed me,” I tease, moving down the hall towards the bathroom to discard the condom.

  I wince when I catch my reflection in the mirror. It’s not just the dark bruises that mar my face. I can’t count the number of black eyes and bloody lips I’ve had over the years. But it’s what this one represents. What I still have to do.

  “There’s left over tortellini, or I can call for a pizza,” Izzy calls out.

  I find her in the kitchen, bent over the fridge, blonde hair pulled up in a messy bun. She’s dressed now in a long t-shirt that rides high on her thighs.

  “Please tell me you’re not wearing anything under that,” I practically groan, pulling her into my arms.

  Already my cock is semi-hard, and I see her eyes widen slightly when I press against her.

  “I thought you were hungry.” She grins up at me.

  “Mmm.” I lower my head, running my tongue over her neck. “You taste pretty good.”

  “You can’t be ready already.” She presses her palms against my chest.

  “Sweetheart, I’m just getting started. But I haven’t eaten today, so the tortellini sounds perfect.”

  I smack her ass when she bends over to retrieve the cold pasta and she lets out a little yelp.

  “Careful.” She turns, holding the container away from me when I reach for it, a grin playing on her lips. “Try that again and I won’t be fulfilling any of your appetites.”

  With one sweep, I pull her into my arms, and easily take the container from her hand. I lower my mouth to hers, teasing her lips until I feel her melt against me, and a soft moan rumbles in her throat.

  “You’d really deny me what I need?” I say playfully against her mouth, watching her pupils darken.

  “You don’t play fair.” Her hands wrap around my shoulders, fingers tangling in my hair.

  “Never said I did.” I kiss her neck, free hand on her lower back, pressing her against the hard length of my erection. “You’re lucky I’m hungry for real food, or I’d be taking you in that bedroom right now and spanking that sweet little ass of yours.”

  A protesting gasp is her response when I give her a hard kiss, then move away, taking the cold pasta with me.

  “I’m not into that whole BDSM thing.” Her arms cross over her chest and she looks up at me with stubborn determination.
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  Finding the drawer with the utensils, I grab a fork, then take a seat on one of the island stools.

  “How do you know you don’t like it if you’ve never tried?”

  “Who said I haven’t tried it?”

  I raise an eyebrow at her. “Have you?”

  She shrugs, then leans against the counter, face turning a shade of red. “No.”

  “See.” I take a mouth full of pasta, watching her squirm under my gaze, and thinking about all the things I can’t wait to do to her.

  “Stop it.”

  “What?”

  “That thing you’re doing with your eyes.”

  “I’m just looking at you.” I grin, finishing off the last tortellini.

  “Like I’m your next meal.”

  “You are.” I stand, and she shrieks when I move quickly towards her, grabbing her waist from behind when she starts to run away. Her ass wiggles against my cock, and I groan.

  Capturing her breast in one hand, I slide the other down between the hot, wet flesh between her thighs.

  “Tell me you don’t want me to eat that sweet pussy of yours.”

  A soft, feminine moan is her only response, and when I slip my finger beneath her panties, I can feel her knees practically give out.

  “God, I love how responsive you are to my touch,” I say against her ear, sending another tremble through her body.

  “It isn’t fair,” she whimpers, when I brush my thumb across her clit, and press my finger inside of her.

  “Trust me, sweetheart, you have the same effect on me.”

  She shakes her head against my chest. “Not possible.”

  I turn her in my arms, capturing her beautiful face in my palms. “It’s very possible.”

  A flicker of disbelief crosses her eyes.

  “You can feel what you do to me.” My cock strains against the fabric of my pants, wanting to possess her. But it’s so much more than that. I grip her hand and place it on my chest, over my heart. “You’re the one in control here. Your pace. Your wants and needs. That’s all that matters.”

  Her eyes widen and her mouth parts, but she only shakes her head.

  “You don’t believe me?”

  She bites her bottom lip and her brows furrow. “I don’t know.”

  My chest tightens. The need to have her believe in me, to trust me, is overwhelming. I don’t know how to make her see that I’ve changed. That I won’t walk away from her again. Because I know that fear is there. And as long as it is, there’ll always be a piece of her heart that I don’t have.

  “Spread your legs, sweetheart.” I know it’s wrong to use pleasure as a tool to win her over, but I’ve never claimed to be a good man.

  “What?” She licks her lips.

  Hands on her hips, pushing up the thin cotton material, I kneel before her. “I said, spread your legs, Izzy.”

  Her breath hitches as she complies, allowing me access to the soft mound between her thighs. I pull back the fabric of her panties, and find her clit with my tongue. Damn, but she tastes like heaven. So soft, so warm, and I can’t suppress the moan that rumbles through me.

  “Oh my God.”

  She’s still sensitive from our earlier encounter, and each little flick of my tongue sends a tremble vibrating through her body.

  Her fingers are in my hair, and when I glance up her head is tilted back, eyes closed in pleasure.

  I bury my face in her as she rocks against my tongue, hips moving in a rhythm that makes my cock so fucking hard I think I might come.

  She’s close. I can feel the way she tenses, throbs. Already I’m in tune with the way her body responds, the small sounds she makes. She arches, and shudders against me, fingers tightening almost painfully in my hair.

  I ease back, holding her steady, knowing she doesn’t have the strength to stand by herself. I love that I do that to her. Make her lose control. Now I just need to find a way to make her lose her heart to me.

  Kissing a line up her stomach, I grip her ass, and order, “Wrap your legs around my hips.”

  She whimpers, but does what I say, face burying in my neck when I lift her, still trembling with the aftermath of her orgasm.

  I pray she isn’t tired, because I’m far from done with her.

  “Lips,” I growl, needing her mouth on mine.

  She leans back slightly, so that I can see her face. So damn beautiful it hurts.

  “I’m going to take you again. Hard this time. You ready for that?” I search her eyes, looking for any reservation and finding none.

  “Yes.”

  “Good.” My mouth crashes down on hers, primal hunger unleashed.

  I place her on the island, just briefly enough to unbutton my pants, and push them down and over my hips. My cock strains forward, pulsing with the need to fill her.

  Gripping her hips, I’m inside of her with one brutal thrust.

  “Hold onto me, sweetheart.”

  Her arms tighten around my neck, and I hold onto her, buried to the hilt, thighs straining as I carry her toward the bedroom.

  She squirms against me. “Against the wall.”

  Her request is a breathless whisper that tugs at more than my cock.

  “You want me to fuck you against the wall?”

  “Yes,” she whimpers, her hips rocking against mine.

  I chuckle, pressing her back against the hallway wall, one hand bracing against the side of her head for support. “So demanding.”

  “It’s your fault.” Her hands move almost desperately over my shoulders, arm and chest. “You make me that way.”

  “Don’t forget it, sweetheart.” I pull back, then thrust hard, burying myself to the hilt.

  She gasps, and her head tilts back. “More.”

  I comply, pulling out, then slamming back into her over and over again until she’s screaming my name, and we’re both gasping for air.

  Her body convulses almost violently, muscles tightening fist-tight around my cock, as she cries out with her release. I’m not far behind her, one thrust and I’m spilling myself inside of her, legs locked, holding us both against the wall.

  It takes a moment for my head to clear from the fuzz or ecstasy, and when it does, panic crawls up my spine. Because I realize that I’d forgotten to wear a fucking condom.

  I carry her into the bedroom and lay her down on the bed. Her eyes are dazed and clouded, a small smile curving her lips.

  “That was incredible,” she says between a yawn.

  It was. Except that I may have just gotten her pregnant. The thought sends a thrill through me. Damn if I wouldn’t love to have my baby inside her. But I know she’ll be fucking furious. Especially after what she went through before.

  I run my hand through my hair, and go to the bathroom to find a cloth to clean her.

  When I return, her eyes are closed, and she’s curled up under the covers.

  “Sweetheart.” I brush my fingers over her soft cheek.

  She mumbles something incoherent.

  “You need to wake up for a minute.”

  Her lashes flutter. “Are you leaving?”

  “No. I just need to clean you.”

  Her brows furrow and she looks at the washcloth, and I see understanding cross her expression.

  I wince.

  “Fuck, I’m sorry. I should have used protection.”

  She takes the cloth with a sad smile. “It’s okay. Unless you have an STD you didn’t tell me about.”

  I frown at her attempted humor.

  Reaching over, she turns off the nightstand light, but I can still see her pale face in the darkness. The frown that pulls on her lips. The worry in her eyes.

  She’s upset. Shit.

  “If you’re going to stay, then lie down.”

  Exhaling a heavy breath, I lay down beside her, pulling her into my arms, so that her back is pressed against my chest.

  “You’re not worried about…getting pregnant?”

  Silence.

  Finally, she wh
ispers, her voice raspy, “No.”

  “Are you on the pill or shot?”

  Her body tenses at my question, and I immediately regret it.

  “No.” Another single word answer.

  Shit.

  I tighten my grip when she tries to pull away. For a brief moment, a surge of hope blossoms in my chest. Maybe she wants to have my kid. My kid.

  “You have no idea how fucking happy it would make me to have you carrying my baby. It’s something I’ve been thinking about a lot lately. A family. Children.”

  Izzy breathes out heavily. “I can’t.”

  Those two words are coated in emotion, so thick they seem to make the air in the room heavier.

  “Can’t what?” A lump forms in my throat, because I already know what she’s telling me, even without asking.

  “Get pregnant.” Her voice hitches on the word. “There’s too much damage from the miscarriage.”

  The confession is like a punch to the gut, and for a brief selfish second all I can see are my own dreams of having Izzy carry my child, my children, crushed.

  Twining my fingers with hers, I bury my nose in her hair and breathe deeply.

  Silence stretches into the darkness.

  So many unsaid words, unexpressed emotions lie between us, and I can almost feel her rebuilding the wall around her heart. My stomach sinks and I say the only thing I can, “I’m sorry.”

  Chapter 21

  Izzy

  Despite how exhausted I am, I can’t sleep. All I can think about is how for the first time since the doctor told me I would probably never be able to have children, I’m actually disappointed. No, slash that, I’m devastated.

  I know the emotions that pour through me are just a combination of left over endorphins and oxytocin from a night of incredible sex. That and having Moody’s heavy limbs slung possessively over my body. But I can’t stop thinking about the child I lost, and the ones I’ll never have.

  After the miscarriage, I’d put everything – my heart, energy, dreams, into my work.

  Then there was Jason. He was stable. Worked hard. He’d seemed to share the same goals. Sure, he was cold and distant, but I needed that – because at the time, so was I.