She picked up her bag, switched off her computer and walked over to the elevator. She realized she was more tired than she usually was. It was because of all the emotional and physical baggage.
Waiting for the elevator, thoughts about Crosby started entering her mind again. The memory of him holding her against the wall and ramming into her made her feel wet again. She had to push the thought out of her head. It would only make her sad and angry. As attracted as she was to him, he had used her. She shouldn’t be thinking of him that way.
Tamsin waved goodbye to the security guard who was half asleep at his desk, and exited through the revolving glass doors of the building. Her car was parked in a street nearby and Tamsin walked to it. It was dark by now, and only the street lamps lit her path.
She could hear the clicking of her heels as she walked, and started fumbling in her bag for her car keys when she thought she saw a shadow behind her.
She whipped around and barely had time to scream. His hand was on her mouth and he pushed her against the car.
“Where have you been?” Adam growled, as she tried to push him off her. His hand was searing through the flesh around her mouth, he was holding her down so violently. She could feel the sharp metal of the door handle digging into her back as he held her there. Her first thoughts went to her baby. She didn’t want anything to happen to it.
“I’ve been calling and texting. Where the fuck have you been?” he growled again, and Tamsin struggled against him more. How had this happened? She hadn’t expected things to get this out of control. She didn’t know Adam properly, of course. She’d met him at a bar months ago and drunkenly fallen in bed with him. She was trying to scream, and tried to scratch his face with her nails, but he pinned her down.
“You’re coming with me,” he said, right in her ear. Then she felt the grip of his hand loosen and could finally scream loudly. But she didn’t need to, Adam was falling away from her, backward. She could barely see in the dark, but it looked like some force was pulling him away from her.
She clutched at the tear in her blouse tightly as the darkness cleared. Somebody had grabbed Adam by the neck and shoved him to the ground. She heard the spine-chilling sound of his skull hitting the cement pavement. Then she heard a voice.
“Stay away from her.” Crosby’s voice was unmistakable as he pulled Adam up by the collar again. Adam had a thin stream of blood gushing down his forehead where the pavement had cut his skin. He was gritting his teeth and trying to throw punches at Crosby, who held him by his collar at arm’s length.
“Who is this asshole?” Crosby turned to Tamsin, who was cowering near her car.
“His name is Adam,” she blurted out, shaking in her shoes.
“Who is he? How do you know him?” he thundered.
“She’s my girlfriend,” Adam growled, trying to look at her, but Crosby held him in place. He couldn’t move.
“He’s crazy. I only met him once. He’s been stalking me ever since,” Tamsin wailed, wiping her eyes with the back of her hands.
“She’s my girlfriend,” Adam screamed again, and this time Crosby brought him closer to his face. He was glaring into Adam’s eyes, rage boiling out of his ears.
“If you ever try and talk to her again, if you ever even come close to her, I’ll kill you.” Crosby let go of his collar suddenly and Adam fell to the ground. “Get out of here before I call the police,” Crosby thundered, and it didn’t take long for Adam to get up and run away.
Tamsin collapsed on the ground next to the car.
“Are you alright? Your clothes are torn.” Crosby rushed towards her. His voice had changed, it was much softer now.
“I’m fine. I’ll be fine,” Tamsin mumbled. Crosby pulled her up into his arms. His touch was warm and protective. She rested her hands on his shoulders, needing to be oriented before she could stand properly.
“What if he comes back? What if he…” She was crying now, and he gently pushed her head to his shoulder and stroked her hair.
“He won’t. And if he does, if he so much as texts you, you call me, okay?” His voice was still gentle. He was still stroking her hair and tightened his arms around her. She could feel her body shaking, but with the force of his arms, she was beginning to relax. This was the father of her child, although he didn’t know it.
“C’mon, let’s get into the car. You need to sit down,” Crosby said, and he pulled the car door open with one hand.
She sniffled, shivered and climbed into the car. Crosby shut the door, walked around the car and got into the driver’s seat.
“Tamsin. He’s gone. I’m here, you need to relax.” Crosby closed the door. They were sitting in the darkness of the car together. She was still breathing hard, even though the shock of the experience was slowly wearing off.
“I can’t believe that just happened. And it’s all my fault,” she said, more to herself than to him. Her hand was on her belly, it had gone there subconsciously. She wished she could feel it, feel that the baby was okay.
“How is it your fault? He’s not right in the head, clearly.”
“It’s my fault because I got drunk and slept with him and gave him my number. That was so stupid. Stupid.” Tamsin hit the dashboard with her hands and felt tears roll down her cheeks again. Crosby was quiet, letting her vent. “Who knows what he would have done if you weren’t here. If you hadn’t shown up, what might have happened to my….” Tamsin finally turned to him and looked into his eyes, allowing her voice to trail off. She had stopped herself just in time.
Crosby looked worried. His face was crestfallen, and he was clearly concerned for her. Again, she was seeing a side of him that she had never known existed. Perhaps nobody else knew it existed.
“Happened to your…what?” he asked, and she saw his eyes fall on her hand, which was still placed on her belly.
“Why did you show up?” she asked, looking at him.
“I found out where you worked, and I was waiting for you to leave. Probably just like that asshole,” he said, and she noticed how his eyes flickered. He looked like he was embarrassed, or at least shy to admit he had been waiting for her.
“Why? After all these days,” she blurted out before she could stop herself. “Why were you waiting for me?”
“I wanted to see you again and apologize. I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind,” he said quietly. Tamsin looked away from him. She didn’t need another reminder of her bad decisions.
“You don’t need to apologize. You were doing what you wanted. I was doing something stupid. As always,” she said, biting down on her quivering lip.
“You weren’t stupid with me, Tamsin. There was a real connection there. I felt it,” he said. She turned to look at him. What was he talking about? Was this one of his games? What would he say if she told him the consequences of their actions?
“I can see you don’t believe me. And why should you? But what started off as a ruse to get you into bed turned into something different. At least for me. Those things I told you about my childhood, about my father who I never talk about... I felt like I was talking to a friend. I’ve never told those things to anyone. We had just met, but I could trust you.” Crosby looked her in the eye as he spoke, and Tamsin wanted to look away. It wasn’t the same expression that had been in his eyes that evening at his house. He wasn’t in a daze, he didn’t have an excited glint in his expression. He was being serious.
“Is there something else that you want?” she asked him, trying to keep her thoughts civil. She shouldn’t be letting her feelings run amok again. They had already got her into more trouble than she could handle.
“Nothing other than a proper date. One date, at a public place with our clothes on,” Crosby said. Despite herself, Tamsin laughed. He was smiling too. The air was easier now and she could breathe better.
“So you’re asking me out?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re more than just a conquest. I want to get t
o know you.”
“What about all your other supermodel girlfriends?” Tamsin asked, raising her eyebrows at him.
“Clearly I need to change my game plan. I haven’t found a soulmate among them. Yet with you, I could sit here and talk for hours.” Crosby reached for her lips, and traced her skin with his fingers. Tamsin closed her eyes, breathing in his scent. She wanted to kiss him, wanted to feel his lips on her skin, the clenching of his muscles underneath her fingertips. She wanted to run her hands through his hair. Tamsin’s neck craned as Crosby traced her throat with his finger.
“Stop!” she shrieked in an attempt to snap herself out of it. Crosby pulled his finger away as if burnt.
“What?”
“I need to tell you something. I need to be honest with you,” she said, inching away from him. This was going to be very difficult, to keep her wits about her when she was so close to him.
“What is it?” he asked, and sat back in the seat.
“That evening. When we…when I was at your house. I…” She couldn’t bring herself to say it, and she looked away from him. Crosby was silent. What was he thinking? When Tamsin looked back at him, she caught him staring at her hand on her belly.
“Tamsin, are you pregnant?”
They looked at each other silently, and then she nodded.
“Mine?”
“There has been nobody else since and at least for months before you. Ever since that night with Adam, six months ago, I had been keeping myself away from men,” she said. Her voice was quivering, and she watched as he moved towards her. Instead of anger, doubt or mistrust, which she expected to find, Crosby placed a gentle hand on her knee and looked into her eyes.
“Well, I’m glad I was here then. I wouldn’t have wanted anything to happen to my kid,” he said. She could see a smile beginning to spread across his face.
“You’re not upset about this?” she asked him, and Crosby laughed.
“Upset? No. Surprised? Yes. It wasn’t in my plans, but you weren’t either.”
“We don’t know each other at all. I’m sure you don’t even remember my last name,” Tamsin said, her shoulders and muscles relaxing now. His attitude and the smile on his face had put her at ease.
“It’s Clarkson. And so what if we don’t know each other? Doesn’t mean we can’t have a baby together. We’re already going on a date. I already admitted that I can’t get you out of my head. Maybe it’s meant to be.” Crosby inched closer to her and Tamsin sighed.
“You didn’t look like a guy who believes in destiny,” she said, dropping her eyes to her lap. Crosby Jones was playing his magic on her, again.
“It’s not destiny, it’s just you,” he said, and touched her cheek with the backs of his fingers. Tamsin closed her eyes and smiled.
“So it’s decided then, a date with clothes on and…” But before she could finish, he interrupted her.
“And the following ones don’t need a dress code,” he said, and within seconds, he was kissing her and making her forget where she was.
*****
THE END
Quarterback Daddy
Description
If I win, and I always win, I get an animalistic rush that can only be satiated by a woman’s body. And there she is, waiting to interview me.
Erica
I wasn’t attending the NFL game to see Kyle Murphy, like everyone else. I was there because I had a job to do. I had an interview to take, and I was willing to do anything to get it.
Chiseled body, six-pack abs, permanent obnoxious smile. He decided to undress in front of me, in the locker room. And then he invited me to watch him take a shower.
And I was floored. All self-control was out of the window. He was going to have me, and I was willing to abandon all professional ethics for the sake of the interview I wanted.
But then everyone found out. And I was left with a secret that not even he can find out.
Kyle
I get an adrenaline rush after I win a game. An instant, animalistic instinct that can only be satiated by a woman’s body.
So I was lucky that Erica Lee, a fresh-faced young reporter was waiting for me after the game.
But unlike all my other fans, she was a tough nut to crack.
When I succeeded, it was like nothing else. I had to have her again. I wanted more.
So when my manager said I needed a pretend girlfriend to clear my name, I knew exactly whom I wanted...
Chapter One - Erica
I have been chasing news stories for the past year. Nobody thought I could do it – a girl trying to make it big as a sports journalist? But I was determined to prove them all wrong, especially my dad, who always wanted a son but got me instead.
So when I was called into my editor’s office the other day, you can imagine how on edge I was. The worst thing that could happen was my being demoted to write fluff human interest stories without a byline. The best thing that could happen was that I got to cover the next NFL game.
What ended up happening was that my editor gave me an assignment that was so good that I hadn’t even dreamt of it. Kyle Murphy. I was supposed to interview Kyle Murphy.
Before anything else, I should let you in on who Kyle Murphy is. As you can predict, he is an NFL superstar. Why else would I even be interested? He was being touted as the next big thing. He might have been only twenty-four years old, but he wasn’t green to the game. He had been picked up, touted at the tender age of eighteen and he had been making a splash ever since. Teams had fought over him, and he obviously took up the most pricy offer. Because that is who Kyle Murphy was.
I hadn’t ever met him in person, but I had formed a pretty accurate impression of him. I had interviewed and hung around enough footballers to know exactly how much the fame got to their heads. But with Kyle Murphy, it was a completely different level.
The guy looked like a Greek God, for starters. His body was pure muscle. It was hard to miss the layers of chiseled and well-sculpted sinew under his jersey while he played. His face was sharp, his jaw square, his eyes a piercing emerald green, and his lips flawlessly pink and juicy. His hair was dark, and he kept it short in a buzz cut so that it never interfered with his game.
So, Kyle Murphy’s stardom wasn’t all just about his prowess on the field. It was also about how irresistibly gorgeous he looked. This contributed to all the media attention he got. He was never seen without a beautiful model or film star hanging from his arm and he always left them heartbroken. Kyle Murphy was known as a serial non-committer and I could never understand why these women kept trying. It was like they couldn’t help themselves.
Men wanted to be like him and women wanted to tame him. That was the legend of Kyle Murphy. I had always watched from the sidelines, interested in his success story. Never before did I have the opportunity to actually meet him in person, interview him. He was larger than life – too high profile for me to actually meet. But, finally, here I was. For some reason my editor had thought I was ready to report on him and I was sure not going to mess it up.
So, during the game I stood in the middle of the hallway near the locker room. I could watch on the large screen TV that had been fixed at the entrance, so I wasn’t really missing out on the action. My plan was to intercept him on his way back to the locker room after the game. Kyle Murphy was notorious for not keeping his word with reporters for interviews. He could very well change his mind. Then what was I supposed to do? Become a failure? I was determined to get this interview. It was my job and I was going to do it well.
But the whole time I stood watching the game, my brain was split in half. I could see him on the screen, taking his team to victory. He moved swiftly on the field, the cameras always remained focused on him. Even with his helmet on, even when he was being tackled, Kyle Murphy had an obnoxious smile on his face. The cameras captured the sparkle in his eye, the way his body cut through the wind as he ran.
I was watching him. That is to say, I was watching the team win. I couldn’t h
elp but think about my dad and the look of sheer surprise he would have on his face when my interview was printed the next morning. He’d see my name, my official mugshot at the top above the article and the realization would sink in: his daughter had interviewed Kyle Murphy, the model son he wished he had. He would be in disbelief for the first few minutes that it was actually his daughter, and then he might regret all the words he had thrown at me. He might regret the passive aggressiveness he had tortured my mother with, blaming her for not presenting him with a son, for not being able to have any more children after me.
Kyle Murphy represented more than just a lucky break for me. He was going to give me the opportunity to prove to my dad that I was capable of anything. That even though I was a girl, I was way closer to the NFL than any son of his might have ever gotten.
The game had come to an end, and I could see Kyle Murphy on the screen being lauded by the crowd. Some of his teammates had lifted him up on their shoulders. He had yanked the helmet off his face, smiling and laughing for the camera. Kyle Murphy was celebrating and I was silently celebrating too, hoping that he wouldn’t forget that he had an interview to give.
Chapter Two - Kyle
That fresh after-victory feeling overcame me when I walked off the field and back towards the locker room. I have to admit – it was the biggest thrill. It was why I played the game, why I trained every day of the week, every week of the month. I pushed my body to the limit, I worked hard to stay fit and on top of the game, to be the best… because I love to win.
Hot CEO: An Enemies to Lovers Romance Page 17