Free Tackled by the King: A Bad Boy Sports Romance by Christina Clark

with her cunt, Carrie unbuttoned my slacks and steered my cock out of my boxers. She cupped her fingers around my chin and started nibbling on my lip, aiming my cock with her free hand. I retracted my hand and relaxed, the leather of the cushion crackling behind me.
    The lips of Carrie's cunt stretched out over the head of my cock, slowly descending on my throbbing shaft...  
    And that was all I remembered – the rest of the night was blacked out by the alcohol cooking in my system.
     
    XXX
     
    “Augh...”
    I spat out a mouthful of hair, smacking my lips to get the taste out of my mouth. Lifting my arm off the warm body next to me, I geared my head to the left, turning away from the glare of sunlight shining straight in my eyes. But as I rolled around, I frowned at the sound of wrinkling leather underneath me.
    My eyes fluttered open sluggishly, adjusting to my living room. Without moving from my spot, I reached over my head lazily and started feeling around until I felt my phone. Stifling a yawn with my fist, I clicked the power button on the side of my phone to unlock my screen. And that's when I saw it.
    Right above the alert of 29 missed calls were the unmistakable digits of the clock – 12:22 PM.

Chapter Ten: Kingsley
     
    “Aw, shit!”
    I reached for my shirt draped over the coffee table clumsily. Losing my balance, I rolled off the sofa and hit the ground. The sleeping figure on the sofa with her back to me started to stir. Her black hair unfurled, sweeping across her bare back.
    “What's – what's going on?”
    “Carrie?”
    She sat up groggily, her nose wrinkling as she blinked around the room. I sat there in disbelief for a couple of seconds as it started to dawn on me. The mind-blowing events – or at least, what I remembered about it – last night wasn't just one of the best wet dreams I'd ever had. My eyes fell to the glorious orbs of her tits peeking out from behind her hair, remembering how soft they felt in my hands last night. But when I started getting a semi, I looked away, the seriousness of my quagmire coming back at me at full speed.
    “What are you doing down there?” Carrie blew her hair out of her face and squinted out the window. The motorized blinds had done too good of a job, sealing the room in darkness from the glaring sunlight. “What time is it?”
    “12:23,” I answered gruffly as I stumbled into my slacks.
    “12:23?” Carrie repeated sleepily, but she cut herself off mid-yawn. She leaped off the sofa, her eyes bugging out in panic. “12:23?! Oh my god, you're –”
    “I know!” I called out behind me as I sprinted to my bedroom.
    I yanked open the door to my walk-in closet. My chest deflated in my relief. Sitting under my wall of special edition kicks was my gear bag, primed and ready to go.
    “That's why you the man, Odell,” I mused. I got dressed, slung my gear bag over my shoulder, and headed back out the door.
    When I got back to the living room, Carrie was about dressed. She stood in front of the foyer mirror, combing her hair with one hand and slipping her other arm into the sleeve of her red bomber jacket. I stepped into my shoes, unzipping my gear bag for a last minute check of my equipment. Finding the 3-legged toad pendant, I slipped the cord of my good luck charm over my head and tucked it inside my shirt.
    “You mind if I hitch a ride with you?” Carrie strapped her heels back on, looking up at me hopefully. “Jamie's got my car. I took a cab over here last night.”
    “Shit, I was hoping you had your car.” I swallowed, checking my phone for the time. “Fuck. 12:29. My car's in the shop getting detailed, and the Uber driver they arranged to pick me up at 11:50's long gone by now.”
    “Well, you better pray to whatever god you pray to and hope we get a cab downstairs, then.”
    I opened the front door, only to get hit by a second whammy staring me in the face. Farrah stood on the opposite end of the doorway, carrying a bag from the bagel place