Hard and Fast

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Hard and Fast Page 12

by Lisa Renee Jones


  “Not everything.” That was the best she could up with in front of an audience.

  “She asked to talk to me,” Tony said, moving his chin to dismiss the other two players.

  Saved by Tony’s need to be the center of attention. His interjection rescued her from a mess with Brad. Plus, she’d guaranteed his willing participation by asking to speak to Brad and Kurt.

  The three men exchanged a few words, then Amanda found herself alone with Tony. Arms crossed in front of his body, an expectant look on his chiseled face, he confronted her.

  Clearly, he was on edge, even though he wanted this interview. He wanted the attention but not the questions about anything beyond his home run.

  “Tony, it’s important to me to earn the trust of the team. I figure to do that, I need to shoot straight,” she said, repeating the words she’d practiced in her head while waiting for him. Saying them out loud, however, she worried they came off as lame and insincere. “That’s why I’m not going to print anything that could be damaging without talking to the player involved first.”

  His eyes darkened, the rich brown color becoming deep black. “What does that have to do with me?”

  Touchy. She wondered why. “Maybe nothing,” Amanda told him, “but sticking to the commitment I just made, I want you to be aware of a few things regarding Laura. She’s been clinging to me a lot, doing a lot of talking.”

  “So what?” he said, his tone clipped. “She’s the social type.”

  “She’s talking about you, Tony. She gets upset and cries, and threatens to tell some big secret.”

  “I don’t have any big secret,” he said, hands going to his hips. “Whatever you’re trying to find out here, it won’t work.”

  “I’m not digging. And I’m not trying to find out anything. So far I don’t recall asking a question.” Amanda let her statement linger a moment for impact before she went on, choosing her words with care. “She hasn’t confessed anything, and I don’t push her to. Frankly, a jealous girlfriend isn’t the best of sources.”

  “She’s not my girlfriend.”

  “She thinks she is. I’ve seen you with her and I know you have made your lack of commitment clear. But she’s not listening. She’s young, Tony. She’ll get hurt easily and lash out.”

  He turned away briefly and sighed. “I’ve never done anything but shoot straight with Laura.”

  “I believe you.” Tony was proud of his well-earned reputation with women. An apparent lover of variety over longevity, he never kept a woman around for more than a few weeks. “But that doesn’t make this situation less of a problem. If she comes to me and shares this secret and I do nothing with it—assuming it merits a story—then she’ll go to someone else. Maybe to Jack.”

  “Great. So this is a heads-up that I’m screwed.”

  His statement was telling. If he had nothing to hide, he wouldn’t have said such a thing.

  “What I’m saying is the most I can offer you is a chance to tell your side of things before it hits the press. I won’t print anything she tells me without talking to you first. The thing is, I’m in a bad spot, Tony. If I pull away from her, I might not be the one she tells. That’s another reason I came to you. I don’t want you thinking I’m trying to work her. Frankly, I feel damned if I do, and damned if I don’t.”

  A moment passed, then he gave her a slow nod. “I appreciate the position you’re in and your willingness to come to me before printing anything.”

  She swallowed, hating the next subject. “There’s one more thing.”

  He scrubbed a rough hand over his jaw. “Do I want to know?”

  “Probably not and honestly I don’t even want to bring it up, but—”

  “Just say it.”

  “Okay,” she said. “I’m following a lead about steroid usage on the team. I believe Jack is, as well. If he gets the story before me, he won’t give any of you a chance to save yourselves.”

  She searched his face for a reaction and found none. No shock. Nothing. Maybe Tony wasn’t her guy.

  She shifted her stance, waiting for a response. When it didn’t come, she said, “Just point the right people my way if you get the opportunity.” Deciding to end on a positive note, she charged onward. “Heck of a hit tonight, by the way. How close are you to that record?”

  Tony stared at her. Finally, his lips stretched into a smile, straight white teeth showing. “Two more.”

  Amanda grinned. “Amazing. So close you can taste it, I bet?”

  He was quick to respond, talking openly about a subject he enjoyed. She followed with several more questions geared toward her next feature. By the time she said her goodbye, Tony seemed happy.

  Now to the next challenge: Brad.

  The sooner she talked to him and cleared the air, the better.

  BRAD STOOD by his truck, watching Amanda talk with Tony. Beside him Kurt waited, as curious as Brad to find out what was going down.

  “I like her,” Kurt said out of the blue, hands settling on his hips.

  “Who asked you?” Brad asked. He watched the animated way she moved her hands as she talked, her hair floating around her shoulders as it had that night at her hotel.

  “You like her, too,” Kurt commented.

  Brad cast him a sideways warning. “Like I said. Who asked you?”

  Kurt laughed, apparently satisfied he’d gotten whatever reaction he was digging for. Before he could launch his next smart-ass remark, Amanda and Tony parted and Tony headed their way.

  “So, what’s the damage?” Kurt asked as soon as Tony was within hearing distance.

  Tony leaned against Brad’s truck. “That was the strangest conversation I’ve ever had with a reporter.” He shook his head. “I don’t know what to make of it.”

  “Off the truck,” Brad ordered. “You’ll scratch the paint.”

  “It’s a damn pickup truck and you’re on it,” Tony protested, not moving.

  “It’s mine and I can do what I want to it. We can’t all drive Porsches.”

  “But you can drive a Porsche,” Tony argued. “You chose a truck.”

  “I like my truck. Get off.”

  With a low growl, Tony pushed off the truck, hands in the air before they fell to his sides. “Do you want to hear about this or not?”

  “Yes,” Brad and Kurt said at the same time.

  “She warned me about Laura. Told me about the phone call and other conversations she’s had with her. Says she wants to earn our trust.”

  Brad snorted. He might think Amanda was hot, but he wasn’t a fool. She was a reporter and almost all of his encounters with the press eventually turned bad. “In other words, Laura didn’t tell her squat so she was trying to get the story from you.”

  Tony dismissed Brad’s cynical remark. “I didn’t get that from her. But her warning, on top of what you guys have been saying about watching my back, has me thinking. Laura’s a problem and I’ve known it for a while now. Every time I pull away from this chick, she freaks out on me. And no,” he added, fixing Brad in a direct look, “she has nothing on me.”

  This was where Tony’s self-centeredness and his the-world’s-all-about-me attitude backfired. He’d used Laura and it was coming back to bite him. “I told you to stay away from those groupies.” Brad had been lucky that his days of sampling the groupie pool hadn’t resulted in any scandals. No, his scandals all came from other places.

  “Yeah, well, I can’t do squat about what’s already done. She can make shit up and I can’t stop her. I’m working toward the biggest goal of my career and I don’t want it overshadowed by gossip.”

  “And Jack has an agenda he’s working. Watch your back with him.” Brad could relate to Tony’s dilemma. After that bar fight, legal issues and bad press had overshadowed anything he did on the field.

  “Yep,” Kurt said. “You’re knee-deep in shit for sure.”

  “Once you’re that far in,” Brad commented, “sometimes you just have to say screw it and face the situation he
ad-on. If it were me, I’d stay away from Laura. You can’t let her hold you prisoner.”

  “He’s right,” Kurt agreed. “Cut it off now. The longer you wait, the worse the ending.”

  “I can’t. Not this close to breaking my record. I don’t need the trouble she could create.”

  Brad shrugged. “You’ve got to do what feels right.” What else could he say? He pulled the keys out of his pocket. “I’m outta here.”

  “You’re skipping the bar?” Kurt sounded surprised.

  “Yep. Places to go. People to see.”

  “What’s her name?” Tony asked, grinning.

  Brad had already opened the door so he lifted his hand in farewell. There was no her but they didn’t need to know that. The best way out of the game night celebrations was to let them think he had a date.

  And he did. With an ice pack and a bottle of Advil. The only woman on his mind was Amanda, and she caused almost as much pain as his arm. He didn’t want to think about her. He didn’t want to see her. So why was he sitting in his truck thinking about her?

  He pounded the steering wheel with his good hand. “Get out of my head, Amanda.”

  With a deep breath, he started his engine, and faced facts. Amanda wasn’t anywhere close to getting out of his head.

  13

  AS HE DROVE HOME, Brad still thought about Amanda. Almost halfway there, his thoughts managed to churn into suspicions. He had to confront her to make sure she wasn’t jerking Tony around. Problem was, he had no idea where she lived. In some remote corner of his mind that fact registered as a warning he should stay the hell away from her. He ignored the warning and dialed information. Sure enough, she was listed. Name, number, address.

  Fifteen minutes later, he stood outside her door, telling himself to leave. But he hesitated. He’d come to talk about Tony, hoping the secret between himself and Amanda would be ammunition to head off trouble.

  Yet, if he were honest, he’d admit these were excuses. He’d come here because he simply couldn’t stay away.

  Without giving himself time to back out, he knocked. A few seconds passed with no response and again he debated walking away.

  “Hello? Who is it?”

  “It’s Brad.”

  Almost instantly, the door flew open, and Amanda appeared in the doorway, her face lit in panic. She still wore the sexy, form-fitting dress she’d had on at the game. The one that hugged her curves in all the places he wanted to.

  Before he knew her intentions, she reached forward and grabbed his arm, yanking him into her house then slamming the door shut behind them.

  Whirling to face him, she went on the attack. “Are you crazy?” she demanded. “I rent from the weather woman at the paper. She lives next door.”

  He wasn’t used to embarrassing the women in his life and her outrage hit a nerve. “She didn’t see me,” he snapped. “I don’t see why it matters.”

  “Of course, you don’t. But it matters to me because—” She shut her mouth, cutting off her own words. “Why are you here? How do you even know where I live?”

  “Finding you wasn’t hard. You know, you might want to switch to an unlisted number, considering your job is in the public eye. And for the record,” he added, “if you think I like sneaking around, you’re wrong.”

  “Then you shouldn’t have come.”

  A muscle in his jaw jumped. “I had to. Besides, no one saw me. I parked a few blocks away.”

  She didn’t seem comforted by his words. “Why? Why are you here?”

  Whatever he’d expected coming here, it wasn’t this frustration. She was acting as though she was pissed off to see him and he found himself getting defensive and edgy. “We need to talk about this Tony situation.”

  Apparently not the right thing to say. If he’d thought she was upset before, it was nothing compared to what followed.

  “Tony.” Her tone was low and terse, as if she barely restrained herself from yelling. “To make sure I’m not screwing him, I assume? Well, I’m not. Contrary to your low opinion of me, I’m protecting him.”

  “Amanda, I—”

  “In fact, I’m protecting him despite my boss’s demands that I do whatever it takes to get the story before Jack. If my landlord sees you here, everyone will think that’s exactly what I’m doing. They’ll think I sleep around to get my stories. After all, people will reveal anything across a set of pillows.” Her hands slashed through the air. “I’ve worked too hard to get that kind of reputation, Brad. Why didn’t you just call? You’ve done it before. I know you know what a telephone is.” She leaned against the wall, giving him free access to the door. “You should go.”

  Could he feel like more of a low-down dog? “Amanda—”

  “Just go.”

  “I don’t want to,” he said. “I’m on edge and I know it. I was unfair.”

  “Yes,” she said. “You were.”

  He didn’t know what to say. Emotions he didn’t understand or like burned in his gut. Damn it, she got to him, this woman. And he got to her. A need to hear her say as much pressed him to act.

  He pinned her against the wall with his body, his legs framing hers, his hands on either side of her head. He was rewarded with the soft, flowery scent of her. He was addicted to that smell. No. Addicted to her.

  “I want you, Amanda.”

  “You had me,” she said, her hands pressing against his chest to maintain space between them.

  “It wasn’t enough.”

  “It has to be.”

  “Do you really want that?” he asked, knowing it wasn’t. He could feel the slight give of her body as it softened into his. Her hands stopped pushing him away.

  She drew a shaky breath. “You have to leave.”

  “I can’t leave,” he said, resting his forehead against hers.

  “I can’t do this, Brad.” Her voice was low.

  He eased backward a bit, letting her see the truth in his eyes. “I didn’t come here about Tony. I told myself that was the reason. I’m really here because I needed to see you. Because I couldn’t help myself.”

  “You said—”

  “I lied.”

  Confusion flashed in her eyes before her expression hardened again. “You left my hotel room acting as if I couldn’t be trusted. I’ve done nothing to deserve that. And now you admit you are the one lying? I don’t want to play these games with you.”

  “No games,” he said. “I can’t get you out of my mind.” They stared at each other, sexual tension building between them. “That’s the truth.”

  “I don’t know what to believe,” she murmured. “I don’t…We can’t.”

  He leaned forward, resting his cheek to hers, relieved that she didn’t push him away. She felt so good to him. He felt her inside and out. Felt her everywhere. What was she doing to him? He could barely breathe from the way her touch, her nearness, stormed his senses.

  “Tell me to stay,” he whispered in her ear.

  “Brad.”

  “Tell me to stay.” He forced himself not to kiss her, not to press more than he already had.

  Her hand went to his face, a tender touch that tightened his gut. “This is so not good for either of us.”

  Her response spoke of acceptance and he responded. His lips slid along her jaw, brushing the sensitive skin with a long caress as he traveled. He absorbed the sweetness of her as his lips touched hers.

  “Trust me,” he whispered, his hands leaving the wall to cup her face as he stared down at her. “No one will ever know.”

  “Like you trust me?” she asked, her voice soft, full of passion, but her eyes alive with challenge.

  The way she challenged him was arousing. “Trust is earned.”

  He brushed his mouth over hers, this time using his tongue to tease hers, barely sliding past her teeth for a quick, tantalizing taste. “We could start tonight.”

  “How exactly do you propose we do that?” she whispered, her mouth near his, their breath mingling. His hands slid down her
neck, her shoulders, her sides.

  “Every time you let down your guard,” he said, “every time you trust me a little more, I’m going to reward you with pleasure.” He let the promise linger in the air for several beats. “How does that sound?”

  14

  EVERY TIME you trust me a little more, I’m going to reward you with pleasure.

  Amanda replayed the words in her head. How did that sound? It sounded like trouble. Like temptation. Like pure heaven.

  Staring into Brad’s eyes, Amanda processed the low hum of sensual energy inching through her body. Regardless of why he’d shown up here, only one thing seemed to ring in her mind. How much she wanted Brad.

  He shifted, fitting their hips together, proof of his arousal pressing against her stomach, teasing her with thoughts of their naked bodies molded together in passion. Images of their earlier night flashed in her mind, tormenting her with what she might miss if she sent him away.

  “What do you say, Amanda?” he asked in that deep, raspy voice that worked its way along her nerve endings. “Do I stay or go?”

  His fingers inched her skirt up her thigh, his hand sneaking beneath the hem and scorching her bare skin. She swallowed against the sudden dryness of her throat. “You’re rather persuasive.”

  His palm caressed the curve of her backside. “You don’t even know the half of it, I promise.” He lifted her leg to his waist. His mouth lingered close to hers. “Tell me to stay.”

  “I already did,” she countered, reaching for his mouth, only to have him pull back.

  “No,” he told her. “You didn’t.”

  It was clear she wasn’t getting kissed until she met his demand. Considering the delicious warmth spreading through her body, the price seemed a small one to pay. “Stay.”

  He smiled and slowly lowered his head. His lips closed over hers, his tongue engaging hers in sensual play. She melted into the kiss, into him, as a strangled moan escaped.

  He seemed different tonight. More potent and forceful, yet, safer. He seemed to demand in a way that didn’t command, but rather, invited submission. And, good lord, she wanted to submit.

 

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