Two Bad Bosses_An MFM Menage Romance
Page 86
“Some great sound bytes, Ringo,” I said. “Thank you so much.”
“Thank you,” he replied. “And speaking of amazing, may I say that you are an amazing human being as well.”
“Oh, thanks,” I said.
That’s when I got a bad vibe from Ringo. He wasn’t giving me an interview to be nice. He wanted to get into my pants.
Immediately.
“Why don’t we continue this interview back at my hotel suite,” said Ringo, turning on the charm. “There’s a great view of the Philly skyline from my hot tub.”
“Thanks, but I’ll have to pass,” I said, trying to keep the mood light. “I have to interview some other players.”
Ringo moved in closer. I backed away and found myself against the lockers. The room suddenly seemed small. I felt trapped and far away from the other players on the other side of the locker room.
“C’mon, Lexi,” said Ringo, mildly annoyed. “You just said I gave you some great sound bytes. At least have a drink with me.”
Ringo was a nice looking guy, professional athlete, but something about him just screamed “creep.”
“I’m sorry, Ringo, honestly,” I said. “Another time, maybe?”
He punched a locker, not enough to do damage it, but enough to startle me with the noise.
“Bitch, what’s wrong with you?” he snapped.
Ah. There it is. Creep.
“I’m about to win a Super Bowl and you don’t want to get with this?” he said, incredulous. “After I do you a favor? C’mon, now.”
“You just called me a bitch.”
“Well, stop being one and at least have the drink. Damn.”
“I think you’re very attractive, but—”
“Damn right I’m attractive! I’m a professional God damn athlete!” he pointed out, taking the shirt from around his neck. “Look at these abs. I am cut! Feel them muscles.”
“I don’t think I—”
Ringo grabbed my hand and rubbed it across his chest.
“You feel that? That’s some hard body shit! And you don’t want to get with this?!”
On the last sentence, Ringo moved toward me. It was really uncomfortable. Fortunately, Jackson Blake emerged from around the corner. The quarterback was the “old man” of the team. The veteran player had been in two Super Bowls, but had no rings. He was pushing himself past the limits this year. He wanted to end on a ring.
Jackson had what could only be described as “rugged good looks.” He was 31, white with brown hair and a full beard— in another time, he would’ve been a lumberjack or an explorer. He had started life as a small town farm boy, but made it big. There was still a lot of farm boy in him. He had a kind of soft spoken nobility that made most players listen to him.
“What’s going on here, Ringo?” asked Jackson, sounding like a scolding father.
“Fuck off, Blake. This don’t concern you,” Ringo said, visibly annoyed.
“This whole team concerns me,” corrected Blake.
“Yeah, well this ain’t high school. I don’t have to listen to your shit, QB.”
“I don’t want another incident, Ringo.”
Ringo exhaled in frustration, then turned around and got into Blake’s face.
“Yo, listen here,” started the angry Ringo. “I protect your ass out on that field, but I’ll damn sure kick your ass in here if you don’t get out of my face!”
“I ain’t going nowhere,” said Blake, standing his ground.
Things got tense for a minute, then Carey Ellis rounded the corner. After four seasons on the Sea-Eagles, he was now the star player. He was a massive African American with a completely bald head. At 26, he had the world by the tail and would let everyone know it, in a fun way.
“What’s going on over here, QB?” asked Carey, turning the corner. “Ringo stinking up the place?”
Kyle Fowler trailed in behind Carey. At 23, he looked like some college kid who had snuck into the stadium and stole a football uniform. Less gregarious than his colleagues, he hovered in the room, waiting for his moment. He was a lean black kid with a short fro and kind eyes.
“What is this? Gang up on Ringo Day?” demanded Ringo.
“Why you gotta do this?” asked Kyle quietly. “We on the same team, my brother.”
“You call me brother after what you did?” snapped Ringo.
“I told you, I didn’t know you were dating Tina. She came on to me,” insisted Carey. “You know how it is. We’re on the road, women throw themselves at us all the time, man!”
“C’mon, man,” added Kyle. “You need to move past this.”
“You move past it, Kyle!” snapped Ringo. “Y’all are against me, but I’m wise to you motherfuckers. Never forget, I’m the key to this team!”
“Last time I checked, I was the quarterback, Ringo,” said Jackson. “And Ellis is the star now.”
“Yeah, because of politics!” snapped Ringo.
“Oh, grow up, man! You had a problem. And you brought it on the field!” corrected Jackson.
“I was still performing!”
“Not like before,” said Kyle. “Stats don’t lie.”
“Is that why y’all gotta cockblock me with this honey?” said Ringo, gesturing to me.
“Look at her, Ringo! She’s scared of you. And she’s a reporter!” said Carey. “Sure, she’s hot, but you can’t date in the workplace, man.”
“We all know what you did to that cheerleader,” reminded Jackson.
“I was just talking to her!” insisted Ringo.
“Yeah, talking to her until she started crying,” said Kyle.
Attacked from all sides, Ringo finally decided to give up the ghost. He looked back at me, and, seeing that I still wasn’t interested, stepped away.
“Y’all whacked,” he concluded. “I don’t need this bullshit. Got plenty of ladies on my jock.”
Ringo brushed past his teammates as dismissively as possible. I was thinking at this point, I should probably just leave. The players looked pretty mad in my direction.
“Guys, I’m so sorry,” I began. “I’ll just go.”
“It’s fine,” assured Jackson. “It’s not you we’re mad at. Ringo’s always been a handful.”
“The guy just can’t get out of his own way,” said Carey, looking after Ringo and shaking his head sadly.
“Look, some of the stuff that’s said, you can’t print that or broadcast that,” Jackson said. “It would really hurt the team and Ringo’s already been punished for it.”
“I didn’t have my camera on. What I did film with Ringo was actually really good,” I said. “Would be great if I could get an interview with you guys too.”
“What network are you with?” asked Kyle.
“Sports Ring. My name’s Lexi Aaron.”
“Sports Ring? I never even heard of that,” said Carey.
“They’re new,” said Jackson, half laughing. “I don’t even know how they let you in here.”
“I’m tenacious and a huge Sea-Eagles fan. You guys, as my dad would say, are doing God’s work,” I added. “He is just about the biggest Sea-Eagles fan ever.”
“We should sign a ball for him,” suggested Carey.
“Oh, my God, that would be amazing!” I gushed.
“Why don’t we get cleaned up first? Can you hang?” asked Jackson.
“Yeah, great. Tell you what. I’ll buy you guys dinner, we can relax and do a laid back interview. Sound good?” I suggested.
“I’m starving and I can eat two meals at once on a bad day,” said Kyle. “You sure you want to feed three football players?”
“Sports Ring gives me a per diem,” I smiled. “It’s all good.”
“All right, then it’s a date,” said Jackson. “We’re gonna get cleaned up. Just hang out here and if Ringo comes back, we should be in shouting distance.”
“Is he that bad?” I asked.
“Not that we’ve seen,” assured Jackson. “He just acts very intimidating towards w
omen sometimes.”
“I’ve seen guys like him before,” said Carey. “They’re all full of themselves, but insecure deep down. They gotta swing their, pardon me, dick around to impress everyone. But really, everyone’s just annoyed by them.”
“Yeah,” added Kyle.
As tense and as creepy as it was talking to Ringo, it was pleasant and relaxing talking to Jackson, Carey and Kyle. I was so caught up in the conversation, I almost followed them right into the shower. I quickly backed away before I embarrassed myself, although I caught a glimpse of Jackson’s magnificent ass as he threw aside his towel going into the shower. Professional athletes really just have the best bodies.
“You mind if I just look around out here?” I asked the guys.
“You can look, but don’t touch,” said Jackson. “My locker is the third down.”
I spotted Jackson’s cubby hole. It was neat, orderly and contained all equipment. Some of the guys had pictures of their wives and kids. Not Jackson— he had been divorced three years ago. His sweaty jersey was on the bench nearby. It was so close I got a wif of it. I knew it would seem weird to admit to anyone out loud— so I wouldn’t, but, it smelled amazing. God, it was addicting. Sweating. Manly. It filled my head and made me stagger a little.
“You okay?” asked Jackson from the shower.
I came to my senses while shaking my head. I was glad he couldn’t read my mind.
“Uh, yeah, sure,” I assured him, taking a step toward the shower.
It was at that moment I really pushed my luck. I look a quick peek into the shower. There was a privacy screen, so all I could see were soapy feet and hard bodies from the chest up. Still, it was a good view. For a second, I thought Carey made eye contact with me, but I looked away and pretended to be interested in another locker. No way he saw me.
“Look at me,” I said to myself quietly. “My first professional gig at Sports Ring and I’m acting like a high school girl in the boys’ locker room.”
Being around guys my own age was a welcome change. I had been taking care of my father for the last five years, basically since I got out of high school. I guess this was the down side of being a virgin at 23. All the wildness and horniness I would’ve gotten out of my system in high school and college was finally bubbling up.
But we were all adults. It was fine to be attracted to good looking men, right? I wasn’t doing anything wrong by thinking that, was I? And it wasn’t like anything was going to happen at dinner. We were just going out as a group.
Chapter 2 – Carey
So I was in the shower after talking to this hot reporter from Sports Ring, right? As always, Ringo had to start some shit and Jackson had to calm him down. Kyle and I backed him up and, long story short, the hot reporter asked us all out to dinner. There was something about this girl. I had to get to know her and I was hoping she’d want to get to know me. Sure enough, early into the shower I caught her taking a peek at us!
“Yo, Jackson, Kyle,” I whispered. “I think Lexi’s sneakin’ a peek at this.”
“No one wants to see your dirty old junk, Carey,” joked Kyle.
“I don’t want her to get scared and think it’s an anaconda,” I joked back. “But seriously, did you catch the vibe between us? I’m thinking maybe you guys do me a solid and forget about dinner.”
“Hell to the no,” said Jackson determined. “The vibe you’re sensing is between me and Lexi. That much is clear.”
“Pfff, you’d better get those glasses checked, old man,” I said, half joking. “Did you see that hair flip? That hair flip was in my direction.”
“Uh, not at the angle I was standing,” insisted Jackson. “Besides, we just told her a story of how you were fighting over a girl with Ringo. She has to assume you’re still with her.”
“No one’s gonna make that assumption,” I insisted. “That’s stupid. That’s a stupid assumption.”
“C’mon, the implication is clear. If you were fighting over a girl?”
“But that was Ringo.”
“She don’t know Ringo like we do.”
“You’re trippin’ Jackson,” I insisted. “What makes you think she’s into you?”
“First off, I’m the quarterback. That’s like being the lead singer of the band.”
“I’m the star halfback. That’s like being the lead guitarist!”
“Yeah, but that’s not the order,” assured Jackson. “It’s lead singer first, then guitarist.”
“What am I?” asked Kyle.
“You’re like a… drummer,” said Jackson.
I had to laugh at that. Jackson could be funny when he wanted to be.
“A drummer? Are you shittin’ me?” said Kyle, sounding a little outraged.
“What? Drummers get pussy all the time,” assured Jackson.
“No, way,” said Kyle.
“All right, you’re gonna stand there and tell me that the drummer for Metallica doesn’t get chicks?” asked Jackson.
“Not over the singer and the guitarist!” said Kyle. “I’m like the last guy left in the band!”
“No,” I pointed out. “That’s the bassist. No one gives a shit about the bassist. Except Flea from Red Hot Chili Peppers.”
“I’d rather be Flea,” said Kyle.
“Fine,” said Jackson. “You’re Flea. Happy?”
“Yeah,” said Kyle. “That’s why Lexi Aaron is going to go home with me.”
“What?” I said. “Now you’re both trippin’!”
“I am Flea,” reminded Kyle, a little hurt. “Besides, did you see the way she looked at me?”
“She was looking at me,” corrected Jackson.
“At me!” I insisted.
“Whoa-whoa-whoa, slow down,” said Jackson, trying to analyze the situation. “Has this already become a Tina situation?”
“It’s not a Tina situation,” I insisted. “Don’t call something a Tina situation when it’s not a Tina situation.”
“Well Ringo was involved!” snapped Jackson.
“But Tina wasn’t!” I pointed out.
“Why do you think a prim and proper, girl-next-door type is going to be into you?” asked Jackson.
“She ain’t prim and proper,” I assured him. “That chick is wild underneath. I can see it in her eyes. You remember that girl in Houston?”
“That CEO we met in the skybox?” remembered Jackson. “You got with her?”
“Yes! And that girl was a freak,” I told them. “On the outside, she was reserved and all business. Behind closed door, oh my Lawwwwd!”
“How wild?” pressed Jackson.
“First off, there wasn’t nothing this chick wouldn’t put up her pussy,” I explained. “I mean, half the shit in my hotel room she tried, just to do it. Then she went into the hotel bar and tried to pick up another girl to have sex with both of us.”
“Did she do it?” asked Kyle.
“Naw, the other women turned her down. Then one threw a drink in her face and that was it for the night. I was relieved. I think she had problems,” I said.
“You got Lexi all wrong,” said Jackson. “She not wild. She’s a sweet girl. The moment I walked into that room, I could see that. Ringo leering over her. She needed someone to save her, man.”
“Whoa, listen to you. Do you believe this shit?” I said to Kyle.
Kyle just kind of laughed and rinsed his head off.
“It’s true,” insisted Jackson. “Women like that have a romantic notion of being swept off their feet by a white knight.”
“White knight?”
“You know what I mean,” said Jackson, not getting derailed. “She needs a strong man to pick her up and take her away from all the bad shit in her life. I’ve seen it before.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. That was some corny-ass shit.
“What?” said Jackson, incredulous.
“Jackson, that shit says way more about you than her,” I laughed. “You’re the one living your life in a fairy tale, not her. Back me up
here, Kyle!”
Kyle nodded and smiled. Jackson looked a little annoyed.
“I’m not saying I want that; I’m just saying that’s what she wants,” explained Jackson.
“Save me, Jackson! Save me,” I joked.
Jackson sprayed me with some Axe body spray. He knew I hated that shit.
“Aw, God dammit! Now I gotta soap this shit offa me.”
As I started to rewash, Jackson couldn’t let it go.
“Seriously, that chick— That woman— There’s something about her, man,” said Jackson. “I could really fall for a girl like that. Like if I had to picture a woman I wanted, Lexi would look like that woman. Is that weird?”
“Nah, man. That ain’t weird,” said Kyle. “But I don’t think she’s like what you said. All helpless and needing a man and shit.”
“What’s your take on her, big man?” asked Jackson.
“Women like Lexi got a quiet power about them,” explained Kyle. “An inner strength that’s nurturing and loyal. She’s the kind of woman you have kids with and lots of them. Like nine kids.”
“Nine kids?” said Jackson, astonished.
“Holy shit,” I laughed. “You’re doing some advanced fantasizing now, Kyle!”
“But that’s just an example. I can see it in Lexi. Nine kids? No problem? You hurt yourself? She takes care of you. Whatever the problem is, Lexi can overcome it. That’s what I see. I mean, she appreciate our help with Ringo, but if we weren’t there, she would’ve dealt with that her own way,” explained Kyle.
“You saw all that?” said Jackson, mildly impressed.
“Yeah, man,” said Kyle. “You can see that in her eyes. Windows to the soul.”
Kyle didn’t talk all that much, but when he did, sometimes he’d get deep.
“All right, before this turns into a Tina situation,” I began.
“You said it wasn’t a Tina situation!” snapped Jackson.
“I said before it turns into one,” I corrected. “We should decide who gets Lexi. Let’s all state our reasons. I should be the one to date Lexi because I’m the best looking.”
“That’s totally subjective!” dismissed Jackson. “You can’t state that as a fact.”
“Well, I didn’t want to say, but we could do a dick measuring contest and you know what the facts are in that,” I pointed out.