The Unforgettable Kind

by Melanie Munton

  He leans back in his chair, sighing. It’s only then that I notice the dark circles under his eyes.

  “I have been. And I’ve been threatened with my job if I don’t stop.”

  The room goes silent.

  “What?” I whisper.

  “The commissioner called the board.” The FNN board. Mike’s bosses, basically. “They told me to keep what I know confidential or I’ll be removed from my position. Essentially, shut up or get fired.”

  My mind is spinning with possibilities of what this means. “Do you think the commissioner is trying to cover the whole thing up? Just to avoid some bad press?”

  I know Mr. Simmons. He wouldn’t do that, would he?

  “I don’t know,” Mike says. “I’m sure they’re looking into this, but they may just want to keep everything under wraps. Maybe they’re settling everything out of court. Or maybe they’re just waiting until after the Super Bowl.”

  I lean forward, jabbing my finger onto his mahogany desk. “But this should go through the courts. Federal charges need to be brought against everyone involved. People have the right to know about this. A cover-up is just as criminal.”

  “I agree with you, but I have no authority here. The board will have my ass if I ask any more questions, and they’ll have yours, too. Shit, Samantha. You’ve already been targeted. Allow the people in charge to do their jobs, and let this go for now.”

  “Dammit, Mike. I started this. I have a responsibility.” I shoot to my feet and pace across the floor. “If I do nothing, then I’m just as culpable as the people who are paying off those refs.”

  He comes around the desk and takes me by the arms, forcing me to stop and face him. “No, that just makes you smart. Sometimes doing our jobs means stepping back and letting the system do what it’s designed to do. This is a big deal, Samantha. And if the people running it are who we suspect, then it’s also a dangerous deal. I’ve only been threatened with losing my job. But you’ve been attacked at your own home. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

  Some of my anger softens at his fatherly tone. Mike and the rest of the guys I work with have really come to mean a lot to me. If our roles were reversed and any of their lives were in danger, who’s to say I wouldn’t be saying the exact same things to them?

  “Fine,” I finally concede. “I’ll back off for now.”

  He exhales. “Thank you. And before you ask, no, they still haven’t decided on who’s getting the commentator job.”

  “Geez. Why don’t you just kick me when I’m down, Mike?”

  He grins. “Sorry. Believe me, I don’t relish pissing you off. I think if you’d ever played football, your nickname would have been The Pit Bull.”

  I pat him on the back. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  “I suppose you would. Now, get out of here and go do some work.”

  It’s as close to a love you, kiddo as I’ll ever got from him, so I take it and walk back to my office. But our conversation doesn’t leave my mind. There has to be a way to get some information on the referee situation. I wrack my brain for options, something that will stay under the radar. Then it hits me.

  Aaron.

  He’s the commissioner’s son. He’s not directly involved with operations, but he’s privy to enough of the league’s business. Surely, he’ll be able to tell me something useful. We did, however, leave things on a pretty awkward note the last time we interacted. But when he came by the studio that day, wanting to get back together, the last thing on my mind had been to pump him for information. Maybe it’s wrong, but now I’m seeing the beauty of the opportunity.

  I pick up my phone and text him without giving myself more time to think.

  Sam: We need to talk. Are you free for lunch?

  It doesn’t take long for him to respond.

  Aaron: Good to hear from you. I’d love to see you, but I can’t make lunch. I’m in meetings all day, and then I have a late dinner with some associates. Probably won’t be free until closer to eleven.

  I think about it for a second. That will make it trickier to hide from Kade, but I’m desperate for whatever I can get.

  Sam: I can swing that.

  Aaron: Great. How about drinks at Ocean Zen? 11?

  Ocean Zen is a sushi restaurant downtown we used to go to all the time when we were dating. That sounds a little too intimate, and I don’t want him to get the wrong impression. I know I’m using him, but I also don’t want to lead him on.

  Sam: This isn’t a date. I’m sorry. Just have some questions and want to talk. I understand if you don’t want to.

  This text takes a little longer to come through.

  Aaron: Sure. At least I get to see you.

  Sam: Ok. See you then.

  I know I can’t tell Kade about this meeting. He’ll freak if he hears I’m going to meet up with my ex, regardless of the nature of said meeting. Not to mention he won’t like me going anywhere late at night without him. He’ll probably try to chain me to the bed if he finds out.

  No. I can’t tell him.

  I sound like such a hypocrite after my whole ‘no lying’ thing in bed last night. But I don’t have a choice if I want my information. I don’t know why, but I can’t let this story go. It will continue to eat at me until something is resolved. There’s this deep-seated hatred inside me for anyone who thinks they’re above the law because of how much money and power they have. Add to the fact that these people are making a mockery of the game that I love and you’ve well and truly pissed me off. They don’t deserve to get away with this.

  I’ll ask Kade for his forgiveness later, beg if I have to.

  It’s after six in the evening when my cell phone rings, a welcome reprieve after squinting at my computer screen for hours on end. I roll my chair over to my bookcase where my phone sits charging and pull the cord free. It’s Jaz.

  “Hey, lady. If you’re calling to check up on me again—”

  “I’m not,” she cuts me off, laughing. “I’m actually calling with good news. My good news.”

  I freeze. “Tell me.”

  “I got the job in New York!”

  I jump to my feet and scream. Probably a little too loudly, but who the hell cares. My best friend’s dreams are coming true. I’ll scream until the cops are called.

  “Oh, my God! Jaz, that’s amazing! Congratulations!”

  My office door suddenly bursts open and Kade storms inside, a frantic look on his face. A look that softens when he sees my gigantic smile. I cover the receiver and whisper, “Jaz got the New York job.”

  His mouth morphs into a bright smile. “Tell her I said congrats.”

  Instead of leaving, he walks around me and plants himself in my chair. Seeing my inquiring eyebrow lift, he winks. Cheeky, but damn is he beautiful.

  “Thank you!” Jaz does some screaming of her own, bringing me back to the conversation. “Holy shit, Sam, it’s actually happening. I’m literally going to be working with some of the biggest designers in New York. I can’t freaking believe it.”

  My heart swells for her. She’s worked so hard for this. “I’m so proud of you. When do they want you up there?”

  “The position starts in two months. Gah, I have so much to do. Find a place to live up there, probably sell some of my furniture here, come up with a lot more designs because I want to have a good portfolio before—”

  “Pull back on those reins, girl. A day like today, there is no room for premature stressing out. This is the time for celebrating, which we are going to do.”

  “Happy hour?” she asks excitedly.

  My eyes flicker down to my watch before moving to Kade. He’s watching me closely, and guilt stabs through me. If I time it just right, I can leave directly from happy hour with Jaz to go meet Aaron at Ocean Zen. That way, I’ll only be half-lying to Kade when I tell him I’ll be out drinking it up with my best friend all night. Loopholes.

  “Happy hour,” I confirm. “Meet at our usual spot in, like, thirty minutes?�
��

  “Hells yes! Mama’s going to get her martini ooooon!”

  I’m laughing when I hang up. Kade’s still watching me, his navy suit jacket hanging open, his thighs clenching as he rocks back and forth. If I didn’t have some place to be right now, I’d give some serious thought to climbing on top of him and making good use of that lumbar support. One of these days we’re just going to have to actually have office chair sex so I’ll quit wondering about it.

  “Going out with Jasmine?”

  I nod as I plug my phone back into the charger. “We’ll probably be out for a while. I’ll take a cab home if I drink too much.”

  He frowns. “Maybe I should come with you. I’ll keep my distance so you two can have your fun. It’ll just make me feel better if I’m there.”

  I strut over to him and place a finger over his lips. “You’re my boyfriend, Kade. Not my bodyguard. I’ll be fine. I’m literally driving from FNN’s parking garage to the parking lot by the bar, and we’ll be inside the bar the rest of the night. In a public place. Nothing is going to happen.”

  He doesn’t look convinced, but there’s a spark in his hazel eyes. “Say that again.”

  “Nothing is going to happen.”

  He shakes his head, pulling me to him until I’m straddling him. “The other part.”

  “That you’re my boyfriend? Are you just now figuring that out?”

  His mouth finds my neck, trailing kisses from one ear to the other. “No. I just fucking love hearing it. Never get tired of it. Do you know how many years I’ve waited to hear those words from you?”

  “I know the feeling,” I murmur, losing my concentration when his tongue dips and glides over my skin. “Is there something you want to say to me now?”

  He growls, and I know what that sound means. He’s getting all possessive.

  “I don’t know how I feel about my girlfriend going out drinking without me with so much shit going on right now.”

  “Your girlfriend will be just fine. Nothing’s happened in weeks. Try not to worry so much.”

  Those words are bullshit, and we both know it.

  He frames my face, touching his forehead to mine. “I’ll always worry about something happening to you. You’re mine, Sam. After all this time, I finally have you. And I’m never letting you go, not when I spent so many years miserable without you.”

  Oh, for Pete’s sake. My heart just turned into a big blob of goo. Why does he have to say all of this when I’m bound by Best Friend Code to leave him in—I peek down at my watch again—two minutes?

  I slam my lips against his, pouring everything I’m feeling into one deep, meaningful kiss. “I’ll still be yours when I get home tonight. And then you can tell me all about how happy you are to be my boyfriend.”

  His eyes fall shut. “Fucking love when you call my place home, too.”

  He gets another kiss for that. Then two. Then three…

  His hands are quick when they start pulling at my dress, yanking it up my thighs. He rips his mouth away. “Fuck this. You should have left when you had the chance. You have no clue how hard it is to see you prancing around this studio in those goddamn heels and tight-ass skirts and not be able to touch you whenever I want.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  I look down at his lap where he fumbles with his belt, pulling the buckle free. His straining erection is pushing against his zipper so hard I’m afraid it’s going to snap. The zipper, not his dick.

  Less than a second later, he’s pulled himself free of the constricting material, stroking his hand over his jutting rod. So smooth and gorgeous.

  God.

  I’ve become one of those women that literally starts drooling at the sight of her man’s piece.

  But when the piece looks like Kade’s…

  I know I need to get going, but I’m way too turned on and lost in the moment now. I won’t be of any use to Jaz until I’ve slaked this insatiable need. Slaked it for now, anyway. Surely she won’t mind if I’m a teensy bit late. She understands that some desires can’t be denied. Some tasks can’t be postponed.

  “The door locked?” I ask distractedly as his hand thrusts under my dress.

  He buries his face in my cleavage, groaning when I begin to rock against him. “Jesus Christ, yes. You going to fuck me, baby? I need you.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah. I’m hurting, Sam. Make it better.”

  How can I deny him when he’s in such pain?

  I’m not cruel, after all. Or merciless.

  After he helpfully pushes my panties aside, I lift my hips and slide down onto his girth. We bring our mouths back together, cutting off our loud moans. His hands go to my ass, his tongue pushes into my mouth, and I start to move.

  Office chair sex? Done.

  Chapter Fifty

  “Devil’s Dance”

  by Metallica

  Sam

  After two—er—four martinis, Jaz and I have lost the volume buttons on our voices. I don’t even know what’s so funny. I’ve lost track because I’m so excited for her. We could be laughing at a napkin at this point, and I would think it’s hysterical as hell.

  I lay my hand over hers. “I couldn’t be happier for you. You know that. But I’m seriously going to miss the crap out of you.”

  I imagine my cheeks look much like hers, flushed from our mutual buzz.

  “I know,” she says, pouting. “It’s the only thing that totally sucks about this plan. Maybe you could get a job at a network up there and move with me?”

  She knows her hopefulness is misplaced without me having to say anything. But I do, anyway. “Sorry, babe. That’ll never happen. I’ve got a good thing going with FNN. Plus, Kade is here now. Plus plus, the cold sucks balls.”

  She giggles. “I actually adore winter fashion, so I think I’ll survive.” She takes another sip of her martini. “I can’t believe you and Kade are finally together. I thought I’d never see the day.”

  You and me both.

  “Maybe you’ll find a man of your own up there. Ooooo, maybe a model or something. You could dress him and then undress him.”

  I waggle my eyebrows, and she bursts out laughing.

  “Sorry, hon, but pretty boys aren’t really my type. And for a lot of those male models, women aren’t their type.”

  “Fair enough. But I can always introduce you to a couple of non-pretty boys that play for the New York Giants.”

  “You’ve also offered to introduce me to some Atlanta Falcons,” she points out. “And I appreciate it, but I don’t want to be that single girl who has to be paraded around by her friends. The type who has to rely on those friends to set up pity dates for her because she can’t get one on her own.”

  I scold her with my expression. “You know that’s not what this is about. You’re stunning and can get any man you want. I’m just looking out for my girl, and I would never throw someone at you who wasn’t completely worthy of your awesomeness. I just want you to be happy.”

  “I know.”

  She stares down at the table for a minute, thoughtfulness coating her features. She tries to hide that wistful look when she tips her head back up, but I see it. I know my best friend well enough to understand how much she wants someone in her life.

  “I’m just concentrating on my career right now,” she eventually says. “When I need sex I’ll find it. Like I have been with Marcus. I’m sure I can find the same thing up in New York. I don’t have time for a relationship, anyway.”

  I let the subject drop because I don’t want to bring her down. Not what this night is about.

  “Well, when it’s supposed to happen, it’ll happen. Right now, you just focus on being the most fabulous designer New York has ever seen.”

  She lifts her glass in salute. “That’s the plan. Jasmine King is coming for you, Fashion Week.”

  We pass the next hour discussing her ideas for new designs and how well she’ll get along in New York. It’s only then that I realize I
haven’t looked at the time in a while, and it must be getting close to my meeting time with Aaron. I reach into my purse for my phone, and my hand comes up empty.

  You have got to be kidding me.

  It’s still on the charger in my office.

  After Kade and I nearly broke my desk chair earlier, I’d hurriedly rushed out of there to meet Jaz. In my haste to leave, I’d completely forgotten about my phone still sitting there charging on my bookcase. He’s probably already texted or called me, asking for an update on when I’ll be home. If I go meet Aaron after this and don’t at least let Kade know that all is well, he’s going to lose his mind.

  “Can I borrow your phone for a sec?” I ask Jaz. “I just realized I left mine in my office, and I need to let Kade know when I’ll be home.”

  “Sure.” She hands it over, and gets our server’s attention to ask for the bill. “You okay with calling it a night, anyway? I’ve got a Skype meeting with my new boss first thing tomorrow morning. Probably not a good idea to be hungover for our first meet and greet.”

  “No problem. As sweet as you are, I’ve got something even sweeter waiting for me at home.”

  She sticks her tongue out. “Don’t rub it in.”

  It’s getting close to eleven o’clock, so I’m going to be a little late meeting Aaron if I want to swing by the studio and grab my phone first. I still remember his number from when we dated, so I quickly type it in and shoot off a text, letting him know I’m stopping by the studio to pick up my phone and am running behind. Then I send one to Kade.

  Jasmine: It’s Sam. Texting from Jaz’s phone because I forgot mine in my office. I’ll be a bit longer with her, then I’m going to go by the studio and grab it before coming home. I’ll be maybe another hour?

  He responds quickly. I picture him sitting in his living room, watching a game on the couch, waiting for me to walk through the door. My deception floods my conscience with more guilt.

  Kade Jennings: Don’t worry about your phone tonight. Just come straight here after you leave the bar.