Dirty Saint: A Secret Baby Sports Romance

Dirty Saint: A Secret Baby Sports Romance by Vesper Vaughn Read Free Book Online

Book: Dirty Saint: A Secret Baby Sports Romance by Vesper Vaughn Read Free Book Online
Authors: Vesper Vaughn
    “Alright,” I reply, stepping away from her. “I’ve gotta shower anyway. See you tomorrow. Delilah .” I almost think she’s going to go on ignoring me when I hear her voice one more time.
    “Goodbye. Francis. ”
    There’s even a glint in her eye as she says it.

    It takes me the better part of an hour to wash the water bottles, empty out the cooler, scrub that , sterilize the footballs and line them all up perfectly.
    I’m just happy I’m not in charge of laundering uniforms. I’d be here all night.
    I finish rinsing out the cooler when I realize the sound of the water is making me need to pee.
    I flip the cooler upside down on the drying rack and rush out of the storage room, my hands dripping wet. I wipe them on my skirt and look desperately up and down the hallway. I see the doors for the coach’s office, the assistant coach’s office, and the locker room.
    There’s no woman’s bathroom in here. And why would there be?
    Football’s tagline might as well be “no girls allowed.” Unless they’re in skimpy uniforms on the sidelines, of course. But I’m seriously about to lose control of my bladder.
    I don’t have a choice. It’s either wet myself or go in the locker room.
    Coach’s words echo through my head. Don’t go in the locker rooms .
    Right. But he means while there are players in there. Practice is long over. Everyone is gone.
    I can sneak in, pee, and then run back out again. No problem.
    Then why is my heart racing?
    Probably because I’ve never done something like this before. Go into someplace forbidden and break explicit rules. I take a deep breath and walk confidently toward the locker room entrance. I glance into Coach’s office and see that it’s dark. He’s obviously gone home for the day.
    I pause with my hand on the metal handle. My heart is in my throat. I pull open the door and step inside. I realize that I’m squinting my eyes half-shut as if I’m about to walk into a room filled with entirely naked men.
    But the place is empty. I breathe a sigh of relief and step around the low, wooden benches. It smells horrible in here: like sweat and - well. It smells like guy . That’s the only way I can describe it. The air is slightly humid from the showers, and I wonder if anyone’s ever thought to open the windows in here. I step onto a bench near the wall and reach up to push open the clerestory panes near the ceiling.
    Fresh autumn air pours into the room.
    That is so much better. I hop from bench to bench opening all of the windows, enjoying the breeze on my face.
    Satisfied, I wander over to a stall. It’s clean, thankfully. I lock the door and take care of business.
    Just as I’m cleaning myself up, I hear the door to the locker room open.
    My stomach plummets through my feet. My hand is frozen on the flush handle. I have no idea what to do now.
    I hear footsteps; someone is wearing flip flops. They make a shuffling sound on the shiny concrete floors. I hear the swoosh of a shower curtain and the squeaky handle of the tap being turned. The steamy rush of water from the showerhead tells me I can get out of here without being seen.
    I flush the toilet and open the stall door. I really, really want to wash my hands. I pause, listening. I hear splashing water sounds that indicate whoever’s in here is safely ensconced behind a shower curtain.
    I pump soap into my palms and rinse them hurriedly, drying my hands on my skirt and quietly inching my way to the door.
    I stop dead in my tracks and whip around, blushing.
    But the blush on my face is instantly turned into a blazing inferno when I see who’s standing there.
    It’s Saint. In all his glory.
    His enormous, lengthy, full-bodied glory.
    “Oh my word!” I yelp, throwing my hands over my eyes too late. I turn around for double the coverage. “I just needed to use the bathroom. I thought everyone had gone home.”
    “I was up in the stands studying

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