Wicked Player

by Lynn, Stacey

  “You can. Hold on.” Then his hand tightened further. He choked me lightly but firmly. I could breathe but it was difficult and that fear mixed with the loss of oxygen did it.

  He went wild with his thrusts, pounding into me until the bed shook and creaked. It was all magnified in my ears and then he ground his pelvis against mine.

  “John!” I cried out. My hand clawed at his arm. My other went to his hip. Then his hand was gone, at my breast, pulling my nipple, and it was all I needed. That sting of pain, the extra amount of air. I grabbed onto him, held on while a third and more beautiful, more painfully blissful climax careened me over the edge.

  He followed immediately. Cursing and groaning while his thrusts went erratic, hard and deep and oh so damn fast I was still in the throes of my orgasm when he pounded into me and stayed there. He pulsed inside of me and took my mouth, kissing me while he grunted and released his own orgasm deep inside.

  He stayed there, kissing me roughly but slower in pace. He seemed almost languid and unhurried now that he’d finished. My grip on his hip loosened.

  His forehead pressed again mine, as he made small, teasing thrusts that still felt beautiful. “Did I hurt you?”

  “Not even close.”

  “Good.”

  I kissed his jaw, his throat. I kissed everywhere I could reach by arching which wasn’t much considering the weight on me.

  Holy shit. I’d just had the most incredible sex with a man and I didn’t even know what he looked like. Talk about perverse.

  “I’m going to pull out. Stay where you are. I’ll be right back.”

  “Okay,” I muttered. Moving seemed awfully difficult anyway. I whimpered at the loss of him, the tender way he kissed down my belly, my thighs, to my ankles as he climbed off the bed. He was only gone for a moment, to dispose of the condom I imagined. A drawer opened and closed and I knew what that meant, but I still jumped when the warm cloth was pressed against my center. He cleaned me, wiped at my thighs and my center and then he was back in the bed, next to me, running his hand up my stomach, between my breasts, he tilted my head toward him and his lips met mine.

  “You were really fantastic.”

  “Thank you. You too.”

  “I don’t usually do repeats,” he said and at the mention of it…what this was…something in my stomach sank. It might have been my heart. “I want to see you again. Soon.”

  “Okay.” Did I sound cool? Too eager? I hoped for cool and nonchalant. Based on his chuckle, I doubted I did either.

  “I’ll set it up with Tristan then.” He was whispering as if what we’d done was special. It’d been intimate and rough, but special?

  To me, yes. Submitting was always gratifying. A stress relief. Hard and intense sex eased my mind and helped me relax.

  But I could never remember a time where it’d felt special. At least, not during the first time. Which also meant this guy was dangerous.

  I lifted my hand and brushed his cheek. He stilled for a moment and relaxed as I familiarized myself with the feel of him. Strong jaw, coarse but short hair. Good cheekbones. Much like everything else about him, his face felt hard and firm, as if he didn’t smile much or maybe wasn’t all that happy.

  He wasn’t my puzzle to solve though.

  “I’ll make sure Tristan knows I’m up for more time with you,” I said, choking down the words I really wanted to say.

  Please…let me see you.

  “Okay then.” He kissed my nose and moved, but it felt like it took forever, almost like he didn’t want to leave. “You really were great, Beth. I’m looking forward to next time.”

  “Me too.”

  “Stay here until the door closes, okay?”

  What was I doing? Another round with a guy I couldn’t see who would certainly keep that between us again?

  This had trouble stamped in bright red all over it.

  “Okay. Good night, John.”

  “Good night, Beth.” He pressed his lips to mine one more time. He didn’t use his tongue, just his mouth in a lingering sweet kiss, the kind you’d give your love at the end of a long day but needed that connection before sleep. That wasn’t what this was. I had to remember that.

  I didn’t respond. I rolled to my side while he dressed, the clank of a buckle and the rustle of his clothes a hundred times louder than before. And then his shoes. The door opened and I imagined him looking back, perhaps biting his bottom lip before he made the decision to stay a little bit longer.

  I ripped off the blindfold and sat up, hoping, wishing he was still there. Changed his mind. But the room was empty and I blinked several times to clear the haze of darkness I’d been shrouded in for so long.

  “Well, Elizabeth, you sure do know how to return to Velvet with a bang. That’s for sure.”

  Four

  Elizabeth

  “Elizabeth!”

  I jumped at the sharp shout of my boss Shane’s voice. He was a large man with a personality ten times larger than his waist. I’d worked at XTCP News for five years and he still scared the crap out of me every time he shouted.

  Across the desk from me, Will peeked out from behind the computer monitor. His blue eyes crinkled and his shoulders were shaking from laughter. “When are you ever going to get used to that?”

  “Probably never.” I’d already stood from my chair. When Shane boomed, I moved. I’d busted my butt for my boss, for this moment. The moment where I learned the head anchorwoman was going on maternity leave soon. I’d approached Shane last week, essentially begging him in the most professional way possible, to allow me the anchor seat while she was out for twelve weeks.

  This morning, barely awake, groggy from lack of sleep and sore muscles and my head in the clouds thinking of why those muscles were sore from Mr. Anonymous, I’d logged onto my computer, scanned my computer email, and grinned when I saw the XTCP family had a new family member.

  Chase Mason Jones was born at three o’clock in the morning.

  Which meant today, one of my lifelong dreams could come true.

  Hope blossoming, I grabbed my tablet and stylus and hurried to Shane’s door before he could boom my name again.

  He had a loud voice and a huge smile, with an even bigger belly. He also wore a full salt and pepper beard he kept cropped in the summer heat and grew out in the cooler winter months. By Christmas time, he wouldn’t need a fake Santa beard to play the role. He’d look exactly like Jolly Ol’ Saint Nick.

  He also had a wife and three kids he bitched about all the time, but in that way you knew he loved them more than he loved his beer and the Raleigh Rough Riders, our local NFL football team. And he loved his beer and football a whole heckuva lot.

  I left his door opened as I entered his office. Shane was a good guy, one of the best bosses I’d ever had. The only time his office door had ever been closed was the day he received a phone call from his dad, letting him know his mother had passed away unexpectedly.

  “Good morning,” I said as I entered.

  He pushed away from his laptop and settled his forearms on his desk. “Hey, Elizabeth. Come in and have a seat.”

  I was already on my way so when he was done speaking, I was able to slide right into the plush, dark gray chair across from him.

  “What can I do for you today, Shane?”

  My voice sounded professional. My thoughts weren’t. Please pick me. Please give me this. Please pick me.

  “As you know, Shayla is now officially on maternity with the arrival of Chase early this morning.” His grin went soft, likely remembering the births of his own three kids, and before I could say anything, he continued, “Want you to know I considered your request. Thought about it. Debated back and forth.”

  Please pick me. Please choose me. My internal chant was losing hope by the moment.

  “Okay…”

  “In truth, you’re a great reporter. One of the best reporters we have and I hate the idea of losing you to the desk. You’re engaging. Viewers love you and you report
fairly without bias while being able to inject humanity and realistic sympathy into every difficult story.”

  I heard it coming before he said it. Saw each letter form on his lips as they came out of his mouth.

  “But I’m temporarily giving the position to Amanda.”

  “Amanda,” I said, more of a sigh. Made sense. The beautiful and fit redhead had more experience. She’d been doing the afternoon news for seven years so of course it made sense to move her up to the evening news. “Okay.” I was already nodding. “Thank you for your kind words.”

  That soft smile he had when he mentioned Chase being born returned, turned even friendlier.

  “I said temporarily.”

  “Well, of course, Shayla’s maternity leave is temporary.”

  “I’m hoping so, but to be honest, I wouldn’t be surprised if she decides to leave us. Chase is her third boy. She’s going to have her hands full and I can imagine, since she’s mentioned wishing she could be home, that she might consider it these next few months.”

  Oh. Oh. “I hadn’t heard.”

  He flipped his hand to the side dismissively. “Shayla’s neither here nor there. I have a new assignment for you. I’m pulling you off the summer travel vacation spots for the next few weeks and putting Will on them. In two weeks, one of the Raleigh Rough Riders is being honored and named as a major donor and planner of the new Family Center at the Children’s Hospital. It opens mid-season, a busy time for our boys.”

  I all but rolled my eyes as he proclaimed our pro football team to be his boys. Fandom went deep in Raleigh and Shane had been waving his teal and blue flag high and proud since the team started.

  “And you want me to report on the opening?”

  “Yes. As Gage Bryant promotes the opening, newscasters will be essentially following him around. Fundraising events. Promotional events. He’s hosting a variety of things including a bowling function. There will be luncheons, a few dinners, and tours of the new wing before it opens. I want you covering it all. Reporting everything.”

  Wowzers. That was a lot to put on one reporter. I’d heard about the new children’s wing opening but hadn’t paid much attention. Also, football was as familiar to me as Russian so other than the fact a multi-millionaire was dishing out some money, probably due to contractual obligations of volunteer time or something else written in his contract, I really hadn’t given it much headspace.

  “Okay. Thank you. It sounds like a great opportunity.”

  “It’s the opportunity.”

  “Pardon?”

  Shane leaned forward and lowered his voice. “This is your opportunity, Elizabeth. Nail this assignment. Put your heart and soul and your entire intelligence and everything you know about journalism into these pieces. Nail it, and I will give you the desk when it’s done.”

  “Excuse me?” My voice went breathy. I was having trouble breathing. All my hopes returned with a rushing forcing knocking the wind from my chest. “Really?”

  “Amanda doesn’t want the night desk. She likes her afternoons and I’m willing to keep her there, but assuming Shayla doesn’t return, I need someone ready. You’re young, but ratings always jump when you’re on and you’re consistent and professional. I don’t want to have to look outside the station if the time comes and to be honest, you were the person I considered for it, but I really want this lifestyle piece to exceed expectations.” He leaned back, his palms at the edge of his desk and tilted his head. “Can you do that for me?”

  “Yes.” I’d turned into a bobblehead. Head shaking like a madwoman. “Yes. I can do that.”

  “My expectations are high, Elizabeth.”

  They always were. That he trusted me to do this and believed I could give him what he was looking for sent excitement buzzing to my fingertips and my toes.

  “I’ll do it. Thank you, Shane. Thank you for the opportunity.”

  “Good. Here’s the schedule of events. He’s kicking the events off with a press conference today after their practice.” He slid a manila folder across the desk. “Inside is everything you need, including press credentials to get in. Take Jason with you. I’ve already talked to him.”

  Jason was one of the main cameramen. I’d not only worked with him frequently, but we worked well together. Plus, he was a huge football fan. Which meant he could fill me in on who this Gage guy was before the conference.

  “Great.” With hands shaking from excitement, I picked up the folder. “Thank you, Shane. I won’t let you down. I promise.”

  He was turning toward his computer keyboard and grinned at me. “Never had a doubt you would, Elizabeth.”

  * * *

  “This is huge,” Will said, his voice a whisper-hiss. News traveled fast and I’d barely given him a shaky smile once I left Shane’s office, a quick stop at my desk before I went to squeal like a child in the women’s restroom. By the time I returned, he’d already heard. “I mean it Elizabeth. This is awesome.”

  “It is.” I rubbed my hands together. “And I’m excited and nervous and freaked. I know nothing about football or this guy. I have so many questions.”

  Like why him? Why was this guy dumping millions into a children’s center? Goodness of his heart? Volunteer requirement? Did he have a shady background and trying to project a new image?

  Will adjusted his black frames on his nose and shook his head. “Google is your friend, my dear, but I’ll tell you what I know. Gage Bryant is pristine. He’s a do-gooder and an incredible wide receiver. He’s been to the Pro Bowl the last two years. People love him and I’ve never heard a hint of anything hidden in his closet the entire time he’s been here.”

  I didn’t even know how long that was. And with my knowledge of football, had no clue what a wide receiver was, although I assumed it meant he caught the ball. And Pro-Bowl? Forget about it.

  “Oh God.” I dumped my forehead into my hands and groaned. I knew nothing about football. And while I covered lifestyle pieces, they were usually fluffier. Will was making this guy sound like a local celebrity and I’d never paid attention. Had he done anything like this before? Did he volunteer frequently? I had never covered a piece for the football team before. “I have so much to learn and I have to leave in two hours for the press conference.”

  Will smacked the top of my desk. “Then I suppose you start doing what you do best and get to researching.”

  Right. Of course. I could look into any story, dig deeper. I could do this. Knowing the game of football wouldn’t be that important, would it? I just had to learn who this guy was. Why the hospital? Why was he spending so much time promoting it beforehand?

  This was my job, one I loved, and I could do it easily.

  Lifting my head, I gave Will a thankful smile. He was one of the best encouragers we had. His wife was lucky to have him. “Thanks, Will.”

  “Anytime.”

  I did exactly what Will suggested. I pulled up Wikipedia, not the most relevant source of news but it was a starting point. I read about Gage’s high school, college, and pro career learning he’d been traded to the Raleigh Rough Riders four years ago. He stayed out of the papers. His parents were mentioned, but that was it. No spouse even though he was thirty-two years old. His Instagram feed showed nothing but photos of him on the field and pics of other players. A few he’d clearly reposted and they showed him dressed in the best well-fitting suits I’d ever seen on a man.

  I memorized his stats. Six-four, two hundred fifty pounds. Born in 1986. And then I stumbled on a photo spread he’d done for Men’s Health and my jaw dropped.

  Butt freaking naked. A football helmet held in front of him was the only thing covering him. And hot damn. This guy. Chiseled, strong jaw. Straight Roman nose. Piercing eyes.

  He was freaking gorgeous. My heart rate kicked into fast gear. My fingertips sizzled. I had to spend weeks following this guy around? The very idea sent a pulse of excitement to the tops of my thighs I tried to shake away.

  I couldn’t get a crush on this guy. He was
a source. A story. But good grief to the high heavens, he was the most beautiful if stern looking man I’d ever seen in my life.

  “Holy shit,” I whispered, forgetting we worked in an open office and even though I was quiet, people could hear me.

  “What is it, Elizabeth?” That came from Amanda. “Oh dear. You got the Gage story?”

  She was already at my back, peering over my shoulder. “Man as sexy as that shouldn’t be allowed to walk free,” I said.

  “I know.” She laughed and bumped my shoulder. “He’s God’s gift to women that’s for sure. And yet from what I’ve heard, he’s never had a girlfriend, at least not one he’s gone public with.”

  “Really?” I twisted in my chair and faced her. “Never?”

  She shrugged. “Not in the four years he’s been here. And I’d know. Rough Riders are my team. I follow all of ‘em on Twitter and Instagram. He posts a pic and gets over four thousand comments, mostly from women, but to the best of my knowledge, he’s never been seen in public with a woman except his mom.”

  Wow. That was…that was crazy. Everything leaked.

  “Hmm,” I said, tapping my finger to my lips. “So I would imagine the public would want to know if he was involved, right?”

  She laughed lightly. “Yeah, but watch yourself. This is a hospital piece, not a gossip column. You go digging too far and you’ll blow your chance. Which by the way, I’m rooting for you.” She stepped back and flipped her red hair over her shoulder. “See you later, Elizabeth. Drinks tomorrow?”

  Thursday nights were our nights. The girls at the station always took off and went for an afternoon happy hour once the afternoon news was done.

  I lifted my file of events. “I’ll get back to you. Haven’t had much time to study this yet.”

  “Sounds good.” She waved her hand and turned her back to me, already walking away.

  Five

  Gage

  “Okay. So, first, you’re going to go out there and stand with the president of the hospital as well as the contracting company who’s been building this addition. They’ll speak first.”