Hard: A Sexy Sports Romance Boxed Set

Grinning down at her, I say, “Okay. Deal.”

“Deal,” says Dani.

I take Isabella’s other hand and we skate around the rink for a few minutes, then Dani breaks off and does a single axel. When she lands, she turns back to us and smiles down at Isabella.

Our daughter laughs with delight and says, “You do it, too, Daddy.”

Dani gives me a smug look and I shake my head at her, then pull her in for a kiss. “Show off.”

“Your turn, Daddy.”

“Daddy doesn’t do jumps and twirls, but I’ll tell you what? I’ll teach you the secret to the perfect slap shot.”

“No, thanks. I want to twirl.”

Dani bursts out laughing, then pats her small tummy. “You better hope this one’s a boy.”

“I still have time to work on this one. I’ll change her mind yet.”

That night when I finish getting Isabella to bed, I find Dani fast asleep on the couch. Pregnancy takes it out of her, in spite of how she pretends it’s no big deal. I shut the television off and carry her up the stairs to our bedroom, laying her down gently on her pillow. Covering her up, I kiss her on the head, then go take a shower.

When I come out, she’s fast asleep. I get under the covers with her and put my arm over her, then pull her in tight. After a few minutes of snuggling, she stirs, and presses her ass against my cock. I slide my hand between her legs and feel that she’s not wearing any panties under that nightie. My cock twitches with excitement as I feel how wet she is for me, even in her sleep. Dani turns her head toward me and I lean over and kiss her. She sighs and arches her back, giving me access. I slide inside her pussy, feeling how tight and wet she is against my bare skin, loving the feeling of her full breasts in my palm. I rock my hips, as our bodies move together, perfectly in sync with each other, just like we’ve always been and like we always will be. Our love may have gotten off to a fast start, but it’s the kind that will last a lifetime.

The End

Take Me-Sneak Peek

One

TABITHA

I have the greatest job ever. Which is odd because I’m the unluckiest girl in the world. Don’t believe me? In grade ten, I was on the debate team (yeah, I know, geek alert!), and I was on stage in front of the entire school, about to make my final speech about why plastic should be banned, when my shirt buttons decided to quit on me. I took a deep breath and ‘pop’! All of them. All at once. It was like they said, ‘Ready? Now!’ In front of twelve hundred kids.

Good thing I was wearing my oldest cotton bra that I had turned that sickly gray when I washed it with my black jeans the day before. It wasn’t even underwire, so I had that whole saggy boobs thing going on. That little incident earned me the nickname ‘Gray Boobs’. My last name is Gray, so that made it extra easy for the jerk who came up with it.

After that, I learned about the glories of good lingerie, which I had to hide from my super religious step-mom, Lorraine. She spent my teenage years telling me about the dangers of boys and sex and the diseases you can get from them. She’s so disgusted by the whole thing that I swear I don’t know if she’s ever had sex, even though she has three kids of her own. All boys. All dick-heads. Lorraine and her boys are the reason I’m still a virgin. Between the four of them, they managed to turn me off guys and sex right around the age when most girls are starting to get curious about those things.

My dad married her three months after my mom died. Told you I was unlucky. We lost Mom to type one diabetes when I was ten. My dad was working nights, so the two of us were having girls night in. She and I were going to snuggle up and watch Beauty and the Beast right after she had a quick shower. She kissed me on the top of my head and told me to work on my spelling until she came down. Twenty minutes later, I realized something was wrong and went up to find her. By then it was too late. She was already gone.

That’s when Lorraine swooped in and snapped up my dad. He was a cop. A good one. And a great dad. Generous, but careful enough with his money so that we had a pretty nice house and no debt. Lorraine and her boys moved in, all traces of my mom immediately disappeared, and I was suddenly part of our ‘new family’. Three years later, my dad died. He got shot trying to break up a domestic disturbance.

And that was that.

I was alone with Mother Mary, Huey, Dewey, and Ewey (the one who always had a finger jammed up his nose).

As soon as I finished high school, I packed my lacy unmentionables and got the hell out of Virginia for good. Gray Boobs has left the building. I went to Washington University where I got my degree in economics, then managed to score my new job. I work for Theo Breckenridge—you know the one—the man who owns half of the western seaboard, the airline bearing his name, and most of the skyscrapers in downtown Seattle.

Mr. Breckenridge put an ad in the newspaper (seriously, the freaking newspaper) looking for a ‘bright, fun assistant’ and I answered it. It had nothing to do with my degree, but after six months of trying to find work and discovering that an economics degree is basically useless in the real world, I was willing to do just about anything to avoid going home again.

I’ve been working for him for almost a year now, and it’s been incredible. First of all, it pays well as far as assistant jobs go. But it’s the perks that really make it amazing. Mr. Breckenridge is eighty-five years young, and he’s trying to decide which charities get his billions. I know that sounds kind of sad, but it’s not. First, he’s super healthy and with it, so it could be another decade (or even two) before he says his final farewell. Second, he’s so happy that it’s impossible not to feel good when you’re around him. He’s a bit of a dirty old m

an, and he makes passes at me here and there, things like, ‘would you like me to share my endowment with you, Tabitha? It’s very generous.’ Wink, wink. It doesn’t bother me though because he’s harmless, and he’s only joking.

Besides, it’s kind of flattering in a weird way. This is probably because other than my ancient boss, I’m not exactly popular with the men folk. I’m pretty average looking—I’m a curvy, short girl with auburn, naturally curly hair that has to be kept at chin-length or it goes hog wild. I’m also super awkward around men and end up tripping over my own foot or spilling soup all over my lap. This actually happened once on a blind date. Tomato soup. Date over.

Anyway, I’m sure I could do better with them if I weren’t so awkward. But I am, and no matter how hard I try, I can’t seem to change it.

Okay, back to the perks. I get to travel the world checking out organizations that apply for his grants. I examine ten charities per year and Mr. B chooses one that gets the big money. And I mean big, like with eight zeros at the end of a two.