by Jamie Knight
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 the 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, tr
aveling 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 likely 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?”
“I did,” I tell him, shaking my head to snap myself back to this room. “Quite honestly, I’m flattered. But how would that work? Wouldn’t there be reporters lurking in bushes and…”
“Darling, it’s cute that you don’t know this, but I’m a billionaire and we don’t have to worry about staying local,” he says. “Maybe if we did, that would be true. But I have a private plane. We can go anywhere we want.”
My jaw drops and I blink my eyes several times, each time telling myself to stop, but not being able to.
“Yep,” he says, as if my eye-blinking was a question instead of an involuntary physical reaction to the bombshells he continues to drop on me. “I’ve invested my money well. There’s a guy who helps us set up accounts so we don’t blow it all. But I still like to blow a big portion of it. And I’d love to do that on you.”
Now it’s his turn to look shocked, at his own accidental double entendre. He raises his eyebrows playfully, as if he’d meant it to come out that way, but I really don’t think he had. For some reason, he was just being sweet and saying he’d like to spend money on having a good time with me.
I guess I’m not used to this. I keep wondering if it’s a trap. I wish I could get my mom’s voice out of my damn head.
“So, what do you say?” he asks. “We can fly anywhere you want. You have a passport, right?”
“Yeah,” I stammer, never so glad to have studied for a semester abroad and therefore to have everything I need in place to be jetsetter off in a whirlwind romance. “Somewhere.”
Despite my type A personality at work, I’m not the most organized person at home. Hopefully I can find it with my college books I’ve never bothered to unpack once I landed my journalism degree – I wasn’t a huge fan of school and was glad to be out hustling in the real world.
I didn’t think I’d have time for foreign vacations, but it turns out that I’m wrong. Apparently, that’s what’s considered a normal date to these football players.
“Okay, then, let’s do it,” he says. “And in exchange, I’ll give you that interview.”
He acts like only one of these things would be doing me a favor. Summoning the power of Monica, I decide to act as if that’s true.
“You’ve got yourself a deal,” I tell him.
“Let’s seal it with a kiss,” he declares triumphantly.
“We really shouldn’t…” I start to say, but he grabs me and pulls me closer to him.
His tongue is in my mouth before I can finish my sentence, but it’s clearly too late. I’m done with that train of thought and I don’t want to stop him.
Sure, someone could walk in any minute. But what’s one more minute, when we’ve already been sneaking around in here for so many of them by now?
I give in to pure passion and instinct as his tongue loops around mine. For a few seconds, it’s absolute bliss, until he breaks away, leaving my mouth feeling empty of the kiss he was just giving me while my pussy feels aching and wet for him.
“I know, I know, I should get out of here,” he says, as he goes towards the door. “Thanks for the nice talk though.”
He winks at me, and I say, “if that’s what you want to call it.”
Our lips were certainly talking to each other, that’s for sure, I think.
Almost as soon as he’s out the door, there’s another knock on it. Assuming it has to be him, and preparing myself to be stern and tell him we can’t possibly have one more kiss, yet already knowing I’m going to break that rule, I swing the door back open with a big smile on my face.
It’s a smile that quickly fades when I see Kirsten on the other side of the door.
“Stacy,” she says, the “t” sounding like a crisp staccato sound that makes me hate the sound of her voice even more than I normally do. “I was just stopping by to say congratulations on your big moment in the spotlight there.”
“Thank you,” I start to tell her, and I’m also about to tell her I was just on my way out.
But she’s inside the room in a flash, without even waiting for me to invite her and without asking if she can. Her arms are crossed over her chest and she’s looking all around. I’m sure she must have seen Elias in the hallway; this is almost the worst possible time ever.
At least she didn’t see him here in the room with me, though, although clearly she knows that he was, doesn’t she?
From the way she’s peering here and there in the prepping room, it’s as if she thinks he’s still in there.
“Hmmm,” she says, turning her head back around to face me. “Did you have a nice visit with Mr. Tucker in here?”
So, she does know he was in here. Maybe she’s looking for evidence of it, but for what? It’s almost like she’s a forensic analyst on a daytime TV drama. Perhaps she wants to snap a picture and sell it to rival presses, or blackmail me to leave my own. She always has wanted my job, and I know I’m stupid for providing myself with any
opportunity to slip up. I should be able to resist Elias, but I’m not.
I can’t explain or even understand why, but the simple truth of the matter is that I’m simply not.
“I wondered why he would give you the starting question,” she says. “It’s beginning to make a little more sense now…”
“Is it?” I ask her, surprising myself with how bold my voice sounds.
I know she really has nothing on me, if all she saw was him walking down the hallway, away from the prepping room. These rooms are small and there are several others on either side of mine, so she might not even really know if he was here or not; she might just be bluffing.
Plus, even if she did see him come out, so what?
It’s not like we were kissing, or even hugging goodbye. Lots of players come give private interviews after the main press conference is over, or they might just drop by to say hello or provide much needed first hand confirmation to help fact check a proposed article, or even just to ask us to paint them in the best light when we showcase them, or try to persuade us not to run an unfavorable story.
Sure, that wouldn’t normally be happening right now, during a media blackout except for approved press conference such as the one that had just happened. But it’s not unheard of. There are plenty of innocent explanations for this, right?
Luckily it seems that Stacy has already moved onto something else.
“You always struck me as the innocent type,” Stacy says, tsking tsking her disapproval at me. “A virgin, even. You’ve never let anyone pop your cherry, just as you’ve never let anyone take the stick out of your ass.”
I bristle at this comment, but I guess I’ll let it slide, seeing how she did lose out big just a minute ago. I was the one who got to ask the question, no matter how much she bounced around and flirted, so I’m sure that didn’t go over well with her ego.