by Jamie Knight
I have just momentarily forgotten it because it feels like everyone in the entire world is looking at me, including you, with your enchanting eyes that are connected to your amazingly hot body I just want to rub myself all over.
Fuck.
Why do I have to go getting horny at times like these? For Elias, of all people.
This is why I always think I should lose my virginity. It has become a real distraction – wanting to have sex and always having to repress it. I wish my parents hadn’t been so strict and then I’d have this out of my system by now.
Focus, I remind myself. Focus.
Suddenly, an idea comes to me. A way to find out whether anyone has information about the guy who attacked me, without coming out and saying what happened.
It’s not at all what I was going to ask, which was about the starting lineup and whether Elias was going to be part of it, but it’s similarly related, and it might help me kill two birds with one stone. No one thinks that Elias is going to tell me who will be in the starting lineup – the Leviathans keep that information close to their chest.
But it’s the question reporters always have to ask anyway, and perhaps phrasing it this way I’ve just thought of will bring me more luck in getting an answer than just straight up asking it.
“Mr. Turner, my question is whether there have been any changes to the Leviathan’s roster,” I tell him, looking him straight in the eyes, “whether that would relate to you not being able to be in the starting line-up, or whether it would affect the line-up for other players we’re all expecting to be there?”
“Of course I’m going to be there in the starting line-up,” Elias says, his chest jutting out in that famous swagger he and other players on the Leviathans are known for. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
The crowd audibly gasps.
I did it.
I got him to admit he’d be there.
And now to push the even more important part of my question.
“I just wondered whether there might have been any last-minute additions, changes, or perhaps a new face around the field or the locker room?”
He is looking offended now, as if he can’t believe I’m tricking him like this.
I really didn’t mean to. I just thought of it right now, a few seconds before the words came tumbling out of my mouth. But the thought was golden. And I have to act on it. It’s my job.
It’s not like I could have just taken out my notebook and scribbled down my thoughts until I had a change to ask them later. I’m sick of doing that – being the mousy girl in the corner, observing and getting good stories by my power of deduction but not actually being the one in the spotlight, asking the hard questions.
Now is my moment.
And I am going to shine.
Chapter 9
Stacy
I’ll just go ahead and admit it.
This whole entire moment, this whole “it being my chance to shine” thing, is mostly all thanks to Elias.
I’m not so oblivious to obvious reason staring me in the face, even though my ego reminds me not to discount all the hard work and hustle I put in to get to where I am, so that I could even have this opportunity land in my lap – or more like, land like a kiss from Elias’ very skilled tongue in my mouth – that I can’t confess that right up front.
Just because he handed me the ability to ask him a question doesn’t mean I have to treat him with kid gloves, though. I realize, now, that in my planning of my questioning of him, I was doing that, without even knowing I was.
Because I want him.
Badly.
But although I loved the way he kissed me and I wanted to keep doing it – and a lot more – with him, the biggest reason I stopped it was because I knew I had to play hard ball with him out here for the press conference, and who knows when else during the rest of this season or afterwards.
It’s not like either of us are going to stop doing our jobs.
So, we’d always have that tension between us, and it’s not good to hook up with someone like that.
Plus, he has a big head. He obviously thinks he can just walk right in and kiss me, and that I’ll be just another notch on his belt.
Don’t trust him, I hear my mother’s voice whispering to me. Don’t trust anyone, and especially not any man. They’re just scum who will let you down.
(“What about Dad?” I used to ask her. Her answer was always that my dad helped create me and that’s what men are good for. And also that the Bible tells women to honor their husband, so now that she’s married to him, she isn’t going to trash talk him.
She’d always say that part like it was like some special exemption she was bestowing upon him. But then she’d stress that all men, until you find the right one that God wants you to marry, are evil and want to do evil things.
Evil, dirty, naughty things.
Maybe, for instance, Elias wants to pull down my panties and feel how wet he makes me. Perhaps he wants to feel it with his fingers first, and then with his tongue.
But I shouldn’t be thinking about this right now, not because it’s forbidden, like my mother thinks, but because I’m in the middle of some earth-shattering business that will help my career, if I can only keep my mind out of the gutter long enough to make sure I do it.)
“I… am not sure I know of any official word on that front,” Elias finally answers.
During the long pause while all these thoughts and doubts flooded my mind, it was as if he was deciding what to say. I know he didn’t want to deny what he saw but he also didn’t want to confess to it right now, and I didn’t blame him.
That wasn’t the point of my question.
The point was to plant the idea in peoples’ heads.
Everyone is here, paying a lot of attention, so why not alert them to the fact that there might be a stranger lurking around the field or locker rooms?
I had been wondering how I could even go back there, after what happened, and wondering if it might happen again.
What if this sick creep came back for me?
So, this is my attempt to minimize that possibility as much as possible.
If said stranger knows that everyone is on the lookout for him, he’ll be a lot less likely to come back again and start trouble.
“They don’t always fill me in on everything that happens,” he says, with a staccato laugh to punctuate the further silence.
Then as he’s looking at me, it’s almost as if something dawns on him: the purpose behind this question.
See, my inner voice – the one that likes to fight against my mom’s voice – tells me. He gets what you’re doing now. He sees the path you’re on and he’s willing to go down it with you. You can trust him.
“You know, I think there might be some rumors about something like that,” he says. “I can’t fill you in on any more details about who will or won’t be on the field, but I can safely confirm that it won’t be any kind of interloper or intruder. I would just hate for anything to hurt our chances on the big day.”
Beside me, Kirsten turns around sighs loudly, as if we’re in middle school. I know she’s upset because I just broke two big stories. I can already see the headlines now.
Elias Turner confirms he’s starting during the Superbowl.
Elias Turner warns fans of possible interloper pretending to be part of the team.
And Kirsten is green with envy.
Or, I should say, as I look more closely at her face, she’s more like red with envy.
Her anger is so palpable I can see it.
“Good job,” Monica whispers, close to my ear on the other side of me, while apparently resisting the urge to touch me again.
A normal person might hug me, but Monica is not a normal person. She’s a tough as nails reporter who knows you shouldn’t go around displaying huge emotions in professional settings, and so she doesn’t.
She’s what I never learned to be from my parents, but who I aspire to become.
So, even though t
he look on Elias’s face says something like, “Are you sure you really wanted to go there? Because we really, really went there,” and I’m having some second thoughts about whether that was really the best thing to do, since it kind of flies in the face of my earlier plan to keep mum about the attack and not cause any drama for the Leviathans this season.
Even though Coach Kramer is looking at both Elias and me like he wants to kill us, which could certainly cause some problems for both of our careers down the line, I tell myself to act confident.
I just smile and say, “Thank you, Monica. I told you I would be the first reporter he fielded a question from, and I delivered on my promise.”
Chapter 10
Elias
I wait a while after the press conference to make sure that everyone else has gone, but I know that Stacy will still be here. One way I know is that I saw Monica come out of the prepping room, which the reporters also use afterwards before they go home, exchanging a rare hug with Stacy as she did so.
If even Monica is impressed by Stacy’s performance, then you’d better believe the whole fucking world is.
But another way I know is that Stacy wants me, bad. She might act like she doesn’t, but she does.
It’s obvious to me that she’ll be there waiting for me to come take what’s mine. She’s what’s mine. As soon as I rescued her in my team’s locker room, I knew that she was.
I make my way to her, looking around to make sure no one else is still hanging about. I don’t need rumors or gossip in the press. The last thing I want is for them to say that I only gave Stacy the first question because we’re fucking.
Unless it’s true.
Then it would probably be worth it.
And I plan to make it true.
When I’m sure there’s no one else around, at least in this corridor of the different offices that are used by some of the news outlets, I rap my knuckles on the door, hard and fast, the same way I want to fuck Stacy. There’ll be no mistaking that I’m here, or what I want.
“Elias,” she says, as she opens the door.
Her tone has changed from the last time we met in this room. She looks happy to see me, even though she’s peering out into the hallway cautiously, as if I hadn’t already checked to make sure we’re in the clear.
Her cheeks are flushed, and her pretty eyes are open wide, just like I want her mouth to be for my cock. Her top button has become undone, giving me an unexpected view of more of her chest, which is a nice surprise.
Her hair had been up in a neat bun but now it’s tousled and flowing free, as if she had been running a hand through it while coming down from that high that was her performance at the press conference. It makes me think about how it will probably look mid-sex or right after sex, and that turns me on even more.
My cock is rock hard at the possibility of witnessing this firsthand in such a situation, which I fully intend to make a reality.
“Stacy,” I tell her, raising an eyebrow at her. “Good job completely throwing me a huge curveball.”
How come all my metaphors were from sports other than my own? I wonder, distractedly, and then I ask, “May I come in?”
She nods, as if she had been debating with herself – which she probably had been – and that settles it. I shut the door behind me and look at my little delectable treat from head to toe.
Then she says, “Sorry about that. I swear I just thought about it off the cuff. I knew it was risky and I wasn’t trying to cause any tr—”
She doesn’t get another word out because my mouth is down her throat. My hand is on her ass at the same time.
She kisses me back, thrusting her body closer to mine, and I’m helping by pulling her in. My mouth travels down her neck. I’m grabbing her breasts now, along with her ass, wanting to peel off her clothes and play with her nipples.
“Mmmm,” she groans.
She tries to pull back a bit, but my tongue is tightly around hers. I know this isn’t the smartest thing I’ve ever done but she turns me into a stupid fool. I don’t want to pass up this opportunity to keep our lips and tongue entwined for as long as possible. Now that I have her in my grip, it’s like I don’t ever want to fucking let her go again.
She does finally manage to break away from me, saying, “We shouldn’t be…”
“That was great,” I tell her, taking her hand. “You did a fantastic job.”
“Wow, that wasn’t the reaction I was expecting,” she tells me, smirking.
“Seriously. I mean, if I wasn’t making out with you right now, I’d probably be mad. You really did trick me up there. Who knows how much trouble I’m going to be in with Coach K? He stayed after for a private interview, so I haven’t had the pleasure of finding out yet. But who cares? It was worth whatever shitstorm it might have caused. Once I got where you were going with it, it was a brilliant idea.”
She beams proudly.
“Put the world on notice that there’s a stalker in our midst,” I tell her. “What a great plan. And, listen, I’m determined to find out who did this to you and make sure they can never do it again, but in the meantime, this is the next best thing.”
“Thanks,” she says, and I pull her into me for another kiss.
I know I’m losing my head, that I should only be focused on the upcoming big game, and not doing anything that could put my own career in jeopardy.
But I’m glad that the stunt she pulled is helping her career, and hopefully that it will stall things to give me enough time to bring her attacker to justice.
What can I say?
I know that she’s haughty, but she has a right to be.
I know that I should leave well enough alone.
But I can’t.
I don’t want to.
Because I just might be falling in love.
And there’s no way I’m letting her go now, without finding out exactly how far this road can take us.
Chapter 11
Stacy
I can’t resist letting Elias pull me back in for another kiss. I know I shouldn’t be letting him do this, that anyone could walk in and see us and blow everything for both of us. But I guess the forbidden nature of it is part of the excitement.
I place my hands on his chest and I can feel how ripped he is, even through his shirt. I really want to touch his naked muscles. To see his big cock instead of only feel it pressing up against me.
I lock lips with him ravenously, loving how he’s devouring my mouth. I tell myself I deserve a celebratory kiss, and that I’m grateful to him for all his help. But reason steps in, and nearly forces me away from him.
“Elias, I really like… this,” I finish, because it would sound too dumb if I said “you.” “But this isn’t the greatest place to be doing it.”
“I know,” he says, flashing me his charming smile as he grins at me sheepishly. “I just couldn’t resist.”
“I think we should try to focus on business,” I tell him, trying to act professional, as if his tongue wasn’t just all the way down my throat and, before that, traveling around my neck, as well.
I have tingly goosebumps all over my body and my pussy is dripping wet. I both love and hate this effect he has on me. It’s as if I can’t resist him, even when I want to. It’s so different from the sterile, boring emotions I’m used to, which I was taught to let be the only ones that I express.
“This is a really exciting time for both of us,” I remind him. “I know we both got caught up in the moment. But while I have you here, I’d like to ask for the opportunity to do another interview. Maybe right before the big game?”
I know I’m really pressing my luck here, but I’m trying to draw inspiration from Monica. I know that if she was presented this opportunity, she would take full advantage of it, so that’s exactly what I’m trying to do.
Sure, I’d love to keep kissing Elias all day. I’d love to let him take my virginity. But I don’t see how that would be a productive use of either of our time, and it is way more lik
ely to do more harm than good. Except for when it comes to my raging libido, of course.
It would do a lot of good there, but I’m trying not to focus there too much, since that’s the whole problem.
“I might be able to make that happen,” Elias says, with another devilish grin on his face that lets me know he has something else up his sleeve. “If you could do something for me in the meantime?”
“What’s that?” I ask, expecting him to say, “Sleep with me.”
Am I about to be propositioned? I wonder. And could I really go so far as to trade my virginity for an interview, even if it’s a career-launching one?
What would Monica do?
But Elias doesn’t say that.
Instead, he says, “Go on a date with me.”
“A… date?”
Does he mean like to the movies?
Walking around the park holding hands?
Eating ice cream?
Whatever he means, his suggestion is a whole lot more wholesome than what I was expecting.
“Yes. That old-fashioned concept,” he replies. “Where two people who like each other and want to get to know each other better converse and have fun together.”
Woah.
I thought he was going to say “two people who can’t keep their hands off each other,” or something like, “It’s a way to pretend you’re into a girl before trying to get into her pants,” but that was probably just my mom’s voice in my head again.
But the fact that he means an actual date surprises me.
I thought we had a hate vibe going on but maybe it’s more like hate-to-love.
Did I just think the word ‘love’ in relation to Elias Turner?
Then again, he had just admitted he’d liked me.
Hadn’t he?
My mind is spinning in confusion when Elias takes my hand in his, gently, and says, “Earth to Stacy? I know you’re probably rehashing the most amazing question any reporter has thought up to ask a star player, for which I couldn’t blame you because it was incredibly fucking impressive. But I’m just wondering if you heard my foolish attempt to ask you out?”