Lucky Bunny

by Eva Luxe

  “I’m just saying this meeting is important,” Brian said, still on the same topic.

  “Right. Well, I’ve got this. Coach can’t afford to lose me.”

  “I bet he won’t miss your arrogance,” Dwayne Burton said. He stopped at the bench.

  I rolled my eyes. “Thanks for that,” I said to him.

  Dwayne shrugged. He looked down at my bag and pushed it off the bench. It was still unzipped. A few of my things fell out.

  I was getting angry.

  “What the fuck is your problem?” I yelled.

  I was sick of their elementary playground antics and snide remarks.

  Dwayne turned his back on me and walked away like that wasn’t the stupidest thing to do to a hothead like me.

  “Just let it go,” Brian said.

  He picked up my water bottle and put it into his own bag. They all knew I loved that water bottle because when I found it at REI I had let them know how awesome it was. It could keep hot liquids hot and cold liquids cold, and could be attached to a bag with a carabiner.

  They had teased me back then for continually talking about it so much, but it had all been in good fun. This was something altogether different.

  “They’re fucking with me,” I said.

  I was reeling. Anger boiled beneath my skin.

  “Yeah, so they’re being dicks. So what? Just imagine how happy Coach will be to see you after you picked a fight in the locker room.”

  I groaned. He was right, of course. Usually I would knock Dwayne upside the head for his stupid stunt. But right now I knew it wouldn’t do me any good at all.

  I kneeled, and Brian helped me gather my shit up and put it back in the bag. When I stood again, I took a deep breath. The team members glanced at me, unwilling to miss a show. I wasn’t going to give them one.

  But I was going to get my favorite water bottle back. On my way past Dwayne, I reached into his bag and grabbed it. He started to protest, stepping forward as if he was going to be the one to throw the first punch.

  Just do it, I willed him, wanting him to strike first so that I could get my revenge on him while also claiming self defense to Coach. But he glared at me and stepped back. He knew I would have the upper hand in any fight that might ensue between us.

  Fuck, I thought, but then I reasoned with myself that it was for the best. I had my beloved water bottle and he didn’t have a broken nose. Nor did I have one more thing to add to the list of why Coach was mad at me.

  It still ate at me that my teammates thought it was okay to treat me this way, though. I vowed to teach them some respect as soon as I was off probation. I headed out of the locker room, forcing myself to rein in my anger.

  Chapter 6 – Hanson

  Coach Thompson was on the field outside, looking up at the sky.

  “We had a good season start,” he said, when I walked up next to him.

  I nodded. I hadn’t been a part of it, but I’d followed the scores. We’d won some, and we’d lost others. We were somewhere in the middle of the league right now.

  “You ready to get back on the field, Hanson?” Coach asked me.

  I nodded. “Ready as ever, Coach. I’ve been keeping up my training and everything.”

  Coach nodded, turning to look at me. “I saw that, but it’s not that simple.”

  I frowned. “What do you mean?”

  Coach sighed. “Do you want to explain to me how the paparazzi got a hold of photos of you and two women?”

  Oh, shit. The photo in the hotel.

  “It was just a guest, following me around. You know how those maniacs can be. They all want their shot of fame by taking a selfie with me or selling something to the press.”

  Coach nodded. “I do know, but that means you have to be careful. Not that your actions are justifiable.”

  I groaned. “Everyone does it. Everyone else can have fun.”

  I knew I sounded like a five year old, but I didn’t care.

  “Everyone else isn’t on national TV.” He took a deep breath. “I’m going to be honest with you. We need you on the team. You’re one of my best players, and you were selected for a reason. But your reputation stinks, and it’s going to affect the team.”

  “What are you saying?” I asked.

  “I’m saying that if you want to get back on the team and stay there, you’re going to have to clean up your image.”

  I shook my head. “Because everyone else thinks I should be different than I am?”

  “You’re a brand, not just a person. You knew this when your career took off. If you want to be up here at the height of your success, the top of your game, with the best of the best, then there will be sacrifices.”

  I jammed my hands into my pockets. He was right. I did know that it was going to happen. I had just told myself that if I carried on doing my own thing, it would become part of this “brand” of mine and all would be forgiven. Bad boy makes good on the football field and all that. I suppose I had a false image in my head all along, and now Coach was bursting my bubble.

  “Let me give it to you straight,” Coach said. “You have to work with a PR Manager if I’m going to put you back on the team at all.”

  I groaned again.

  “Like a babysitter?” I asked.

  “No, like someone who will help you clean up your act so you’re really worth something on my team.”

  I shook my head. “I’m not doing it. I don’t need someone to tell me what to do.”

  Coach nodded. “That’s fine, Hanson. You do what you think is best. But realize that I’m not going to let you play unless you’re working with a PR Manager.”

  “You’re giving me an ultimatum?”

  Coach shrugged. “I’m just trying to help save your career. Take it or leave it.”

  “You can’t do that to me. I’ll go to the Board.”

  “Go ahead,” he said.

  I looked out over the field. I missed being in the game. I missed being part of the team. Football was my life. I had played it all through high school and college, and being scouted as a pro player had been my dream since I was a kid. I was twenty-four and at the peak of my career, DUI aside.

  I couldn’t lose all that now, not even because I didn’t want to be treated like I needed supervision. Especially because the DUI was such a bullshit charge to begin with. I know everyone thinks that, but in my case, it was the truth.

  “You’re not going to let me negotiate on this?” I asked Coach.

  He shook his head. “Your negotiating days are over. It’s a manager or nothing at all. I think it will be good for you. You can get yourself sorted out a little bit.”

  My image didn’t need sorting out. I was happy with who I was. Yes, the suspension had been shit, but other than that, I knew who I wanted to be.

  “What will it be, Hanson?” Coach asked me.

  I didn’t have a choice. I realized that. “You’re forcing me to say yes,” I said.

  “I’m not forcing you to do anything. You put yourself in this position. Not me.”

  I nodded “Okay, fine. I’ll do it.”

  Coach smiled and clapped me on the back. “I knew you would come to your senses. Come on. She’s waiting in my office.”

  “What? Already? My suspension isn’t even over yet.”

  Coach nodded. “I want you to get started as soon as possible. The quicker you pull yourself together, the better it will be for the team.”

  Coach turned and walked back toward the facility. I followed him. I didn’t have a choice. I was reeling. I had just been told I would have to get my shit together if I wanted to play at all, and now she was already here to tell me what to do. Not only did I have to have a PR manager, but it had to be a woman who would be in charge of telling me what to do .

  Fucking fantastic.

  We walked through the corridors. We passed the cafeteria where my teammates were eating. They sat around the table, talking and laughing. I thought about the incident earlier. They didn’t like me. That
much was clear. I knew they were pissed off about me being suspended, but they were being childish about it.

  We passed them and walked on. I wouldn’t be joining them today. At this rate, I wouldn’t be joining them anytime soon. I felt like an outsider with my own team.

  Coach turned to me before we walked into his office.

  “Just behave, okay? I don’t what you being rude to her.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” I said. “You don’t have to keep lecturing me on everything.”

  Coach looked at me long enough that I fought the urge to squirm before he opened the door.

  “Miss Townsend,” he said with a broad smile.

  I followed him in. I didn’t know what I’d expected to see, but it wasn’t this. When she turned to us, I stopped and stared.

  The first thing I noticed were her eyes. They were the clear blue color of a newly-formed icicle and looked just as piercing. Her eyes were offset by jet-black hair, short and styled around her face. Her look was fierce. And hot.

  I slid my eyes down her body. She was athletic and curvy in all the right places. Her legs and arms were more slender, but not in a reedy way. She worked out. I liked it.

  “Hello, Mr. Bell,” she said, holding her hand out to me. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

  Oh God, that couldn’t be good.

  I took her hand. Despite her strong appearance, her skin was soft and her handshake feminine.

  “I haven’t heard anything about you, Miss Townsend.”

  “Lacey, please,” she said.

  Her name didn’t suit her. It was a tame name for a woman that looked like she could be wild behind closed doors. I could just imagine what she would look like naked. Her body was in perfect proportion, her stomach flat, her tits the perfect size.

  She cleared her throat. I glanced up at Coach Thompson. His eyebrows were raised, arms folded over his chest. It was like he knew what I was thinking. But he had to be thinking something along the same lines when he looked at her. She was a walking orgasm.

  “We’ll be working quite closely together,” she said. “I expect you to make time for me. I’ll need you to send me your schedule so we can set a time every day in which we’ll be able to meet.”

  “You jump right into business, don’t you?” I asked.

  “It’s what I’m here for, Mr. Bell.”

  “Hanson, please,” I said, mimicking her.

  She nodded, her face an expressionless mask. She was so serious, so uptight. It just made me want to crack her and get her to relax.

  God, the things I would do to her.

  Too bad I couldn’t. Because she was here to reform my image, not let me fuck her.

  Except, something told me I could change that.

  Maybe it was the way she cocked her eyebrow to stare back at me as I continued gazing at her. That one little movement showed me all I needed to know: she was up for a challenge.

  Perhaps I could challenge her to see which one of us is better at oral sex. As an athlete, I was used to making everything a game.

  We could make a bet to see which one of us would come first: her, from the rapid circles my tongue would make all around her clit, or me, from the strength of her cheek muscles sucking on the head of my cock while her hand moved up and down along my shaft.

  I could already picture it in my mind. Now I just had to make it a reality.

  Even though I knew the coach would kill me if I so much as touched her, I couldn’t help but follow my basic instincts. Looking at the cleavage poking out at me from her blouse was enough to cement my decision to go after my brand new PR rep, no matter the consequences.

  Game on.

  Chapter 7 – Lacey

  Hanson Bell was a man who knew he was good looking and used that knowledge to get what he wanted. He had an arrogant grin and a swagger about him that came from an overdose of self-confidence and a history of being told he was more than good enough.

  “I’ll leave the two of you to talk,” Thompson said, after introducing us.

  If he had noticed that Bell’s attitude was different than usual, he didn’t let anything on. I had a feeling that the two of them had just had a talk, though. He held out his hand again, and I shook it. He shot a glance at Bell that I couldn’t read. A reprimand? A warning? Then he left the office.

  When the door closed behind him, I was aware of Bell and his ego, and how small the office was with the three of us crammed in here together. I knew what I was doing, though, and if there was one thing I didn’t step aside for, it was someone’s pride.

  “Right,” I said. “We have a lot to do if we’re going to get you sorted out by the time you hit the field again.”

  He raised one eyebrow at me. His smile was off-balance. I assumed it was his game face, and I wasn’t talking about football.

  “You look like just the person to sort me out.”

  He looked me up and down, his grin unfaltering.

  “I can tell we’re going to have a lot of fun.” He leaned into me and said in a whisper, “It’s what I do best.”

  His breath brushed the skin on my neck, and I shivered. When his eyes met mine again, I nodded briskly. I didn’t want to let on that he was getting to me. I wasn’t going to fall for his antics, even if he was one of the hottest guys I’d ever seen. He looked even better in person than he did in the photos.

  “Your innuendo isn’t lost on me, Mr. Bell.”

  I opened my phone and pulled up the image of him leaving the hotel with two women. Turning the phone to him, I cleared my throat.

  “And I’m up to date with your idea of fun. This is the kind of thing that will drag you down, and I’m here to make sure that doesn’t happen again.”

  He didn’t look as shocked as I had hoped for, but the grin had disappeared and he looked irritated.

  “What I do with my free time should be my business.”

  “If you want personal privacy, you’re in the wrong career.”

  He shook his head. His initial approach had evaporated. Thank God. Bell was so much more attractive in person, and I could only stay serious for so long when there was sexual tension like this.

  He sat down in one of the chairs, elbows on his knees. His arms were big, and inked up. The sleeveless shirt he wore showed them off beautifully.

  “I don’t need this, you know that, right?” he said. “This… image makeover thing you’re supposed to be giving me.”

  “What you need is to get back on the team and stay there.”

  “I managed it without anyone until now.”

  “You’re suspended,” I pointed out.

  He rolled his eyes. Oh boy. When he wasn’t putting forth his ridiculous charm, he seemed to have an attitude like a teenager. What fun. But I couldn’t help but want him. Despite myself, my panties dampened and my pussy clenched itself tight in between my thighs.

  I wouldn’t do it, I told myself. I wouldn’t let this guy drag me down career-wise, no matter how good-looking he was.

  I didn’t sleep with my clients. Ever.

  Looking back at his strong body and handsome face, I had to remind myself of that fact again. It didn’t stay in my mind as long as I had wished. Instead, it was pushed out by thoughts of Hanson pushing himself into me, filling me up and making me beg for more.

  Don’t do it, Lacey, I told myself.

  I knew I was strong enough to withstand this cocky player. I just wasn’t so sure that I wanted to.

  Chapter 8 – Lacey

  By the time I was back in my own office after meeting Hanson Bell, I knew exactly what I was in for with him. A hard time.

  Bell was the type of person that thought he was above rules, above the word “no,” and hot enough to get away with it. Coach Thompson was clever enough to know what he had in Bell as a player, but he was a little bit like a father, too nervous to reprimand his son.

  It made for a bad combination. Especially considering that my body seemed to think differently about Bell than my mind did. I was glad, however,
that he was gone, because without his presence to distract me, I was gathering the mental fortitude to focus on representing him instead of fucking him.

  “Lacey,” Conrad said, knocking on my door with papers in his hand. “Do you have a stapler I can use?”

  I nodded and opened my drawer. I held it out to him. His hair was messy and his tie askew. It looked like he’d slept in his office again.

  “I heard you got Hanson Bell,” he said, taking the stapler from me and crushing it down on the corners of his pages. “How did that go?”

  “Not as well as I’d thought it would. He’s a real piece of work. It’s not going to be easy getting this guy on track.”

  Conrad grinned and handed me the stapler back. “I could have told you that. The guy is a legend on the field, but off it? He’s a machine. Women fall for him wherever he goes. He’s like a modern-day Hansel, leaving women in his wake instead of breadcrumbs.”

  I chuckled. “That’s a terrible comparison.”

  Conrad shrugged. “It’s true.”

  I nodded slowly. I had a feeling Conrad was right, if Bell’s response to me was anything to go by.

  “What are you going to do with him?” Conrad asked.

  I shrugged. “My job. I’m going to get him back on track and turn his notoriety into esteem.”

  Conrad chuckled. “You would be the first woman that would make a lasting impression on him.”

  I shook my head, but I was smiling. “It’s because I’m not here to have a piece of him.”

  “And if he won’t change?”

  “I’m not going to ask him to change. I never ask anyone to change. I’m just going to ask him to put the side of him the public likes to see in the forefront and keep the rest to himself.”

  Conrad shook his head and walked to the door, still chuckling.

  “Some people aren’t as four dimensional as you paint them to be,” Conrad said, turning at the door. “What if there isn’t anything else to show? What if there’s nothing more to him?”

  “Then what they say about him is true,” I said. “He would be just a dick.”

  Conrad laughed at my joke and left my office. I turned my attention back to his file. I didn’t think for one second that the side Bell showed everyone was the only side to him. And it wasn’t just because of my dirty fantasies about him. Instead, it was the philosophy I lived by in this job.