THE PUCKING BAD BOY
ANENEMIESTOLOVERSSECRETBABYHOCKEY
ROMANCE
A J SUMMERS
ATTRACTION PUBLISHING
Copyright©2024byAJSummers
Allrightsreserved.
Nopartofthisbookmaybereproducedinanyformorbyanyelectronicormechanicalmeans,includinginformationstorageandretrievalsystems,withoutwritten permissionfromtheauthor,exceptfortheuseofbriefquotationsinabookreview
CONTENTS
Prologue
Chapter1
Chapter2
Chapter3
Chapter4
Chapter5
Chapter6
Chapter7
Chapter8
Chapter9
Chapter10
Chapter11
Chapter12
Chapter13
Chapter14
Chapter15
Chapter16
Chapter17
Chapter18
Chapter19
Chapter20
Chapter21
Chapter22
Chapter23
Chapter24
Epilogue
AlsobyAJSummers
ThePuckingFakeBoyfriend
Partieshaveneverbeenmything EspeciallynotonHalloween
The ones I have been to since I started at NYU are almost interchangeable: outrageous costumes, a mass of screaming,drunkenbodies,lotsofboozeandcheapcandythatstickstoyourteeth Ihaveavoidedthemsincemyfreshmanyear. Untilnow.
Ifrownatmyroommate as she drags me up the stairs “Idon’tknow whatI’mdoinghere,” Icomplainfor probablythe twentiethtimetonight.
Carolrollshereyesatme “Ineedyoutokeepwatch,”shesaysaswestepintothehallofamusty,darkbuilding,andshe proceeds to dragme toward the elevator. “Remember? It’s Mark’s party, and I’mscared I’mgoingto embarrass myselfby drinkingtoomuch You’remysobersponsor”
Iletoutanaggrievedsigh.Thelastyearofroomingwithherhasbeenthebestofmycollegeexperience.Andso,forthe sakeofourfriendship,Imustendurewhateverthisnightbringsforthenextcoupleofhours.
“Fine,”Ihissasshepushestheelevatorbutton “We’regoingtobeinandoutofhereinthreehours,though Deal?”
Carolflashesmeasloppysmile.“Don’tgetallseriouswithme.ThispartyisprobablythemostexclusiveinallofNYU. Youmightevenendupmeetingsomeone”
“Idoubtthat.Chicks beforedicks.Remember mymotto?”UnlikeCarol,myromanticlifeincollegewas less ofamessy Halloweenpartyandmorelikeagraveyard Ihadnothadaboyfriendsincesophomoreyear,whenmyex,Patrick,hadcalledit offinthemiddleofscrewingme.IstillfeelsomeembarrassmentwheneverIrememberthatparticularlyhumiliatingmomentof mylife.
“Idon’tthinkIcandothis anymore,”hehadsighedinmyear,his penis growinglimp “Youareexhausting I’mtiredof yourweirdkinksandhavingtotellyouwhattodoallthetime.It’stoomuch.You’retoomuch.”
Ew Couldn’theatleasthavewaitedtotellmethatafterhemademecome?
“Here,”Carolsays,slippingherhandintoherjacketandpassingmesomethingaswewalkintotheelevator.Ibracemyself foraminibottleofvodkaorsomeotheralcohol sobrietyforCarolisanythingbeforefourdrinks.ButwhenIlookdown,I seeit’sanelaboratefeathermaskwillcovermywholeface.
“What’sthisfor?”Iwanttochuckitbackather.
“It’s a masked party It’s Halloween, girl” She has the gall to sound exasperated “Alotofcool students are here Rich ones,futurenationalathletes,afewguysvisitingfromCornell.Goandplay.”
Iletoutanothersigh Thispartywassoundinglamerbytheminute,butmaybeitwasagoodthingnoonewillbeableto recognizeme.
Islipthemaskonjustastheelevatordoorsopen,spillingusintoamustycorridor.Carolleadsmetotheseconddooron theright.Loudmusicisblastingthroughthespeakersevenbeforeweapproachtheroom.Sheslipsonherblackcatmask,and wewalkthroughthehalf-opendoor.
It’saregularparty,withalotofscreaminganddancinginthevastapartment Noonegivesusasecondglance
“I’llgofindMark,”Carolscreamsinmyear.“IfI’mnotbackinhalfanhour,comelookforme maybeinthebathroom.” Istarttoprotest,butsheletsgoofmyhandanddisappearsintothecrowd
Great,Ithink,pushingpasttheteemingmassofsweatingbodiesandheadingtowardthekitchencounter,theleastcrowded placeintheroom.Idumpmyselfononeofthestickybarstools,wishingIwasbackinmydorm.
“Whatareyousupposedtobe?”
Ijumpatthesoundofthevoice.
Male Hard Dominant
Iturnaroundtolookathim.Hetowersover
facewithaprominentnoseandnomouth.He’sdressedinaHenleythathugshisframe,revealingabulgingchestandmuscles. Andwhilehedoeslookgood,I’mmostlyintriguedbyonething.
Thereissomethingprimalaboutthebarelycontainedpowerofhisbody Mennevermakemenervous ButIfeeltinybeads ofsweatonmybrow.“Whatareyousupposedtobe?”Iaskinstead,makingsuretodisplaytheveryimageofcalmness.
Hetakesastepcloser,thedarkeyesunderneaththemaskboringintome “Someonewhoexpectsanswerswhentheyask questions.”
Iswallow Hard Heatpoolsbetweenmythighs Thisguyisarrogant,borderingonrude.
ButIdon’tfeelputoffbyitatall.Quitethecontrary.
Mysterymanisthecompleteoppositeofmyex Hewouldsurelynotcomplainaboutmebeingtoo much Thatawarenesssendsdesireleapingintomycore.
“So ”hemurmurs,takingastepcloser “Whoareyou?”
Myskintingles.Itdoesn’toccurtometonotanswerhim.
“Apissed-offroommate,”Imutter,staringdownatmyjeans NotexactlyappropriatewearforaHalloweenparty Hiddenbehindthemask,Ican’ttell ifhecrackedasmileatmyjoke,butIimagineitanyway.Heleans over,hooks two fingersunderneathmychin,andraisesmyheadtohis.
Iinhalesharply Hisscentfillsmynostrils Hedoesnothing,merelystaresatmethroughtheeyeslitsofhismask Hedoesn’tneedtodomuch.
BecauseIfeelmyarousal IhadnoideahowneedyIwasuntilhetouchedme “Ibetyou’repretty,”hemurmurs,settingasparkoffinmychest.“Followme.” He takes one ofmyhands, pullingme to myfeet. Dazed, Iobeyhim. Ihave never beenina situationlike this, butonce more,I’munabletostopmyselffromdoingwhatheorderedmeto.
MaybeIsubconsciouslywantedtobeapartofsomethinglikethisforalongtime.AndIhadabsolutelynoidea. Heleadsmethroughthemassofpeopleloungingaroundthecorridor,towardthebackoftheapartment Finally,heopensa doortowhatseemslikeawalk-incloset.
“Afteryou,milady”Hebows
Enteringaclosetwithacompletestrangermustbeoneofthemostrecklessthingsyoucoulddoatamaskedparty,where fewsocialnormsapply.
Buttheglimmerofexcitementinthepitofmybellymakesiteasytoignorecommonsense. Mybodyisinflames.
Wewalkintotheconfinedspace,andhebangsthedoorshutbehindus Themomentthedoorclicks,withoutawarning,he flipsmetofacethewall,whilehishands,hardandwarm,grabmybreasts,strokingthemandpullingmyshirtaside.
Withoutwantingto,Imoan,backingupagainsthim Astrangeboldnesswrapsitselfaroundme,andI’msuddenlypushing myselfupagainsthim.Hereachesdownandgrabsafistfulofmyass.Anotherraspingbreathescapesmythroat.
“Good girl,” he mutters, his fingers wrappingaround myneck, squeezinggently. His voice is a rumble, sendingsparks alongmynerveendings andheatingthebloodinmyveins “Herearetherules Ifatanypointyoudecideyoudon’tlikeour gameanymore,yousay‘stop,’andI’llletyougo.Understood?”
Inodmyhead,myheartbanginginmychest Somehow,this stranger is revealingandfulfillingmywildestfantasyall at once.
Hisfingersworkatmyjeans,tuggingandshoving Suddenly,heisyankingthemallthewaydown,andthelowerhalfofmy bodyisbare.
“Niceass,”hegruntsasIstepoutofthem.Hispalmspanksoneofmycheeks,makingitjiggle.Hiswordsarebluntand unfeeling, revealingno emotionat all And somehow, that makes me pine for himharder Has he done somethinglike this before?
Iclosemyeyesandpushmyassintohim,desperatetofeelhim
“Easy,”hesays,yankingmeawayfromhim.“Iwanttoenjoyyou.EverysinglesecondIgettofuckyou.”
Hiswordsmakemynipplesstandatattention
Idon’tjustwanthimanymore.Ineedhim.
Andthen,withouttheslightestwarning,hetugsawaythecrotchareaofmypantiesanddigshisfingersintomypulsating center
Ascreamripsoutofmewithoutwarning.
Hepullsmecloser,andforthefirsttime,Ifeelthefullstrengthofhiserection,hardandthrobbing,pressingagainstmyass “You’rewetforme,”hesays,pullingouthisfingers.ThenextthingIknow,heisslidingthemundermymaskandparting mylips,forcingmetosuckmyownfluidoffthem.“Ilikeyouwet.”
Everythingaboutthis isawetfeverdream.
Ihearhimtugathispantsandbriefs,therippingofacondom.WhenIturnaround,Icatchaquickglimpseofhimslidingit
on.Heis…perfect.Huge,thick,hardandthrobbing.Anunusual,largebirthmarktheshapeofavasegraceshisinnerthigh. Iholdmylipstightly,awarethatI’mtremblingwithanticipation.
And then, he is up against me, lininghis cockagainst myentrance, teasingmyopeningwithhis tip His hands find my breasts,squeezinghard.
“Iwanttohearhowmuchyouwantme,”hemuttersinmyear “Rightnow” Anotherlickofpleasurerisesupinmybelly.
“Please,”Igasp “Fuckme” Hepushesintomeinasingle,slowthrust,leavingmebreathless.Thenhepullsoutslowlybeforeslammingintomeagain, thistimewithnogentleness.
ExactlythewayIhadhopedPatrickwould Ikeepmyeyesshutagainstthethroesofpleasure,lettingmyselfenjoyeverysecondofhimfillingme.TonightisallIhave withhim Tomorrow,thiswillbeafeverdream,andyearsfromnow,IwillrememberitasthebesthookupIhadinmyentire life.
OrsoIthought
Twomonthslater,I’msittingonthetoiletseat,staringdownatapee-stainedstickwithacrosssignontop. Thesignthatchangedmylifeforgood.
Seven years later
“SO,theysentinthesexyone.”
AsanewsreporterwhoroutinelyinterviewsNHLandNFLplayers,Ihaveheardandseenitall Menwhoburstoutcrying inthe middle ofaninterview because theyhad no one else to talkto. Menwho confessed to havinga secretaddictionor a shamefulpast.Menwhowoulddrunkenlybegmetojerkthemoff. Butthisonetopsthemall.
Ilookup atthe unsmiling, hardened face ofReggie Turner, three-time championofthe NHLand soon-to-be retiree. He looks exactlylike the pictures and videos Ihave seenofhim Tall, hugelymuscular, sleeve tattoos onhis arms He is huge enoughtocrushmewithonehand.Hisfaceischiseledtoperfection,hisshortbrownhairframingitinthemostappealingof ways
“Whatdidyoujustsay?”Iask,thoughIheardhimclearly.Manyofmycolleaguesliketoletstarshaveittheirwaywhile interviewingthem,evenentertainingacreepyjokeorsomeflirtingifitmeantgettingtheirreportfinishedontime.Ipreferthe opposite approach: take charge of the conversation, let the star know quite earlythat youdon’t find themas fascinatingas everyoneelse,andsettherulesoftheinterview.
Italwaysworks
Reggie should be backtracking and apologizing for his inappropriate comment by now. The last thing I need is Reggie Turnerassuminghecanrideandcontrolmeforthenextfewmonths
Hestepsoffthetreadmill,hiseyesgrowingcolder.Hismusclesaresleekwithsweat,andhedriesthemoffwithatowelas hestridesuptome.
“You’resexy,”herepeats,completelyunrepentant “Seemslikeyou’retryingtohideit Dowdydress,boringglasses Don’t knowwhy.”
Istareathim,lostforwords,barelybelievinghedaredtosaysomethinglikethis IsheaNeanderthal?Hasn’theheardof‘Metoo’?
“Now,”hecontinues,unfazed,swipingabottleofwaterfromthenearesttable,“Iknowyou’vebeensenttodoaprofileon meorwhatever,butletmetellyouhowthisisgoingtowork.Youwillnotfollowmearoundlikealostpuppy.Instead,I’lltell youwhatyou’regoingtowrite.Thenyou’llputoutafewinterviewsaboutmeandconvincepeopleI’vegotaheartofgoldor whateverthehellpeoplecareaboutthesedays Thenwepart Isthatclear?”
Iblink.Twice.
Thismightbecomingasasurprisetothisoaf,butI’mtheonesettingtheruleshere Iclosemyeyesandtakeadeepbreath,remindingmyselftostaycool.Icannotaffordtogetupset.Completingaprofileon thismanistheonlythingstandingbetweenmeandthepromotionIdesperatelyneedtosendmysontotheprivateschoolofour dreams.
Okay.
Theprivateschoolofmy dreams
Anall-boysschoolontheUpperEastSidethatproducesHarvardalumniandWashingtonpoliticians.
Theprivateschoolmychilddeserves
IfIhadtotakeshit andgiveitback fromthebiggestassholeplayerintheNHL,thenthat’swhatI’ddo. Isquaremyshouldersandlockmygazewithhis.“We’rejustmeetingforthefirsttime.”Myvoiceisdrippingwithhoneyed annoyance.“So,IfeelobligatedtotellyouthatI’mnotthekindofjournalistwho’llletyoubossheraround.Andyes,I’mgoing tofollowyouuntiltheprofileisdone.I'mgoingtowatchallyourgamesandrecordyouractionsonandofftheice.Andwe’re
goingtohaveseveralsit-downinterviewswhereyoutalkaboutyourlifeinexcruciatingdetail.Thisiswhatyousignedupfor whenyourequestedanationalprofilefromus.”
Iexpecthimtoregisteramusementoroffenseatmyrefusaltobackdown ButReggieTurnergivesabsolutelynothingaway.
He takes another swigfromhis water bottle,the sweatonhis tattooedarms glisteninginthe lightas he moves,shadows playingontheindentsofhispowerfulchest.“Isignedupforthenationalprofileforonereasononly,”hesays,matter-of-factly. “Myagentmadeitquiteclear thatIhaveanabysmal recordofbranddealsfor ahockeyplayer who’splanningtoretirethis season.SaidIneededtoputmoreofapalatableimageoutthere.”
“Yeah,andthisiswhatyouhavetodotochangeyourimage.”Iraisemybrows,completelyunsympathetic.“Sitforafew interviewswithme Talkaboutyourself ShoweveryoneadifferentsideofReggieTurner” “Yousoundjustlikemyagent.”Hiseyesflashwithsomethingclosetoanger.“This is everysideofme.” Mybrowsriseevenhigher “Whatyouhaveonisn’tevenapersonality It’sacliché Broodyinkedguywhosleepswith womenforsportandpreferstospendmostofhistimealone.I’vegottobelievethere’smoretoyouthanthat.”
Hestayssilentforamoment,hisgrayeyespiercingme “Kindofhypocriticalofyoutosaythat”
“Whatdoyoumean?”I’mnotquitesureifIshouldbeoffendedornot,butI’mcertainlyintrigued. “Becauseyourwholelifeispretense.”
Furyshootsfromthepitofmystomachtothebackofmyhead “Whatdidyoujustsay?” He is supremelyunconcerned bymyanger. “Imean, lookatyou. You’re wearinga fake pair ofglasses, a boxy, dowdy shirt,andthemostirritatinglyboringskirtintheuniverse IfImetyourandomlysomewhere,I’dassumeyou’reoneofthose womenwhodress poorlybecause theyeither don’thave time todobetter or they’re tryingtoprove some asinine point.But judgingfromthehighlightsinyourhairandyourbrashredlipstick,youdoknowbetter.Youarefashionable.So,I’mforcedto guessthatthisisallafacade.Forwhateverreason,youwanttohideyourrealself.”
Myjawdropstothefloor.
“Are you talking about my ‘happy to not impress you’ outfit?” I snark back “And maybe I’m not in any of the three categoriesyouputoutthere.MaybeI’mjustasinglemomwhodoesn’tcarewhatclotheswillcapturethemalegaze.”
There Thetrumpcard IhatetalkingaboutCarltopeopleIonlyknowonaprofessionalbasis,andIdetestthefactthatI’ve gottousehimtoproveapoint,butIwoulddoanythingtowipethearrogantexpressionoffReggie’sfacerightnow.
Butmybigrevealdoesn’tevokethereactionIwashopingfor.Notevenadamneyebrowtwitch.
“You’reamom.”Hesmirks.“Figures.So,youavoidthe‘malegaze’becauseyou’resureyourchild son,Iguess won’t betoocoolwiththeideaofastepdad?Andyouthinkthiskindofattirewillkeepmenfromnoticingyou’resexy?How’sthat goingforyou?”
Iswallow,myfurybackingupforaseconddose. Howdidthismeetingturnintothisjerkanalyzingmylife?
Andworsestill,whyamImoreeagertoargueagainsthispointsthanreturntowhatweshouldbetalkingabout?
“Again,”Isay,foldingmytremblingfingersintoafist,“you’rewrong.AndIreallythinkweshouldbefocusingon ” “Yeah,”hesayssuddenly “Imightbewrong” Iwidenmyeyes,barelybelievinghejustcaved.
Butthen,hetakesastepclosertome,thetiniestglintinhiseyes “MaybeyourreasoniskinkierthananythingIjustsaid” Mycheeksgrowhot.Iexhalesharply,hatingmyselfformyownreaction.
“Mr Turner,thismeetingisnotaboutme,”Isay
“Sure,” he retorts, foldinghis massive arms across his chest, inkwindingaround the veins and the dents ofhis muscles, shiftingwitheverymovement.“ButIshouldgettoknowthewomanwho’sgoingtobefollowingmearoundforthenextcouple ofmonths So,I’mgoingtolayoutexactlywhatIthinkaboutyou,andyoutellmeifI’mclosetothemarkornot”
“I’mnotgoingto ”
“Saythisisnotaboutyoubeingasinglemom,”hesays “Sayit’saboutsomethingmore,likeyou’rescared” “Scaredofwhat?”Iask,myvoicesoundingshrilleventomyownears.
“Ofbeingseen,”hesaysblankly “You’reawoman,andyou’vegotneeds Hell,everywomanhas needs,singlemomor not. But then, you’re going the opposite way and dressing down because you don’t want to be noticed, especially while workinginanindustryknowntohavelotsofattractivesinglemen.Thatonlymeansonething:thatyou’realreadycertainthat theycannotsatisfyyourneeds”
Mycheeksaregrowinghotterbythesecond.Iwanttoopenmymouth,totellhimtostoptalking,butIcan’tbringmyselfto putacoherentverbandanountogether
He takes another step closer, so he is rightinfrontofme. Then, he bends slowly, so his toweringbulkcurves over my frame.“Coulditbe,”hemurmurs,eyespinnedonme,“thatyour needsinbedaredifferentfromthoseofmostwomen?That maybe you want something special? That maybe you’re wary of attracting attention from guys around you because you’re certaintheboynextdoorwouldneverunderstand?”
The heatonmyface is spreadinginwaves throughoutmybody. Itake ragged, harshbreaths as goosebumps rise onmy arms.
EveryonewhowarnedmeaboutReggieTurnerwasright
He isn’t scream-at-you-and-cause-you-to-shit-your-pants terrifying. He is look-at-you-and-know-every-piece-of-yourbeingterrifying
AndthatisthekindIcan’thandle.
Iwanttobackaway,togobacktomyofficeandletmybossknowthatI’mpassingontheofferofwritingaprofileofthis athlete.Apromotiondoessoundgood,buttherehastobeanotherwaytosendCarltotheall-boysschoolthatdoesn’tinvolvea manthatcanuncovermydeepestsecretswithasinglelook.
“Closetothemark?”heasks,interruptingmythoughts Ijumpathisvoiceandaminstantlyirritatedbymyreaction.
“No,”Ispitathim “You’rewrong”
Hedisregardsmywords.“I’mgoingtotrytoguesswhatyoursecretis,”hesays,leaningbacktodrinkmeupinhisgaze. His eyes restunabashedlyonmybreasts, and Imentallykickmyselffor wearingmypushup bra to this meeting He lingers, staringatthemlongerandharderthananyonehasdoneinalongtime.
Andthen,Ifeelit.
Athrillrunningdownmyspine,causingmynipplestohardenunderhisgaze Damn.
Helooksupatmeagain “You’vebeenfightingforcontrolsinceyouwalkedthroughthatdoor Tellsmehowmuchyou’re addictedtorunningthingsinyourpersonallife.”Hepauses,andI’mfilledwithtrepidationforhisnextwords. Hedoesn’tkeepmewaitinglong.
“YoumustbedesperatetoletgoofyourtypeApersonalityassoonyouwalkintothebedroom,”hesays,theglintgrowing larger.“Itmustbearelieftoletsomeoneelsetakethereins.”
Myheartmissesabeatbeforeitstartsbangingfranticallyagainstmyribcage Reggie does notseemto know the suddenupheaval his words justcaused inme. He continues onthattrackmercilessly. “Whatisitthen?”heasks,hisvoicelower “Likeitrough?Enjoybeingtoldwhattodo?” Mybrowiscoveredinasheenofsweat.Ishouldsaysomething,tellhimtobackoff.Butmymouthisjammedshut. Especiallyashereachesout,hookstwofingersundermychin,andpullsmyfacetohis.
“Don’t worry,” he mutters, his cold eyes lingeringonmine. “You’re goingto like workingwithme then. Unless you’re alreadyfreakedoutandyou’redesperatetogetsomeoneelsetocoverthisproject.”
Ibarelyhearhiswords I’mthinkingofhowridiculouslycloseheis,thewarmthhistouchisspreadingthroughmybody AndI’mthinkingofhisprevioussentence: Like it rough? Enjoy being told what to do? Yes,myentirebodyiswhispering Yes to both Reggie’spersonalityisnauseating,butIhavenothadsexinsevenyears.Maybethat’swhymyentirebodyistinglingathis touchandwhyatinypartofmybrainiscravingforhimtopounce.Toaskmetogetonmyknees.Toaskmetounziphim.To… Unless you ’ re already freaked out “No.”ThewordspillsoutofmylipsbeforeI’mevenawareofwhatI’msaying. ButIdon’tregretit
I’mnotgoingtobackawayfromthissoeasily.
Itakeadeepbreath,gratefulforthereturnofmyvoice
“You’renotnearlyasscaryasyouthink,Reginald,”Itellhim,stuffingallmyfeelingsintoatinyboxinthepitofmyheart soIcanreturnhisgazeevenly.“Theprofilestartsnextweek.Ilookforwardtoseeingyouthen.”
Iturnaroundandmarchoutofhisgym,myheadheldhighandmyshouldersstraight I’mnotgoingtoletthisassdelaymypromotion.AndIwishIcouldsaythatistheonlyreasonIamgoingtocontinuewith theprofile
Butthetiniestpartofmeisalsocuriousaboutwhatitwouldfeelliketoworkwiththefirstmanwho’smanagedtoturnme oninsevenyears
REGGIE
orry,Reg PulsePixel isstandingfirm It’sherornoone”
“Fuck.”Islammyfisthardagainstthetable.Abunchoffilesslipofftheedgeofthedeskandfalltothefloor,and Paul’sassistantscramblestopickthemup PaulKellerman,myagent,looksamused.“What’syourproblemwiththischick,anyway?Ranabackgroundcheckonher. She’ssqueakyclean.”
Ihuffinannoyance,staringattheblankwallbehindhisfigure Sevenyearsasahockeyplayerandsevenyearsofattending miserablemeetingssuchasthis,andIhadstillnotgottenusedtohowdamnsoullessPaul’sofficeis. “Fine,”Paulspitsafterafewseconds Ilikebeingaroundhim heunderstandsit’sfutiletryingtogetmetotalkaboutmyfeelings. “Doesn’tmatterwhyyoudon’tlikeher Theywantheronthisjob She’sgoingtodotheprofile” “Damnit.”Igrindmyfistintothesurfaceofthedeskfor thesecondtime.Paul’sassistantjumps.Iscowl athim,andthe colordrainsfromhisface.
“Ineedto um restroom,”hesqueaks,beforeheflingshimselfatthedooroftheoffice,yanksitopen,andslamsitshut behindhim.Icanalmosthearthesighofreliefheletsloosethemomentthereisadoorseparatingus.
“Idon’tlikeyournewassistant,”ItellPaulblankly Heshrugs.“Toughluck.Youlikedthepreviousonestoomuch.Ihadtoletthemgodueto…”Heclearshisthroatandlooks atmemockingly “ conflictofinterest”
It’sthetermPaul usesasaeuphemismformescrewinghissecretaries.Forsevenyears,Paul hadnoproblemsreplacing themoncetheinevitablehappened.Until thelastone,Angela,whoturnedhysterical inthisveryofficeafterItoldheritwas overbetweenus Paulfinallygaveupandhiredaman
“Icannotdo the profile withHarper Morris.” Iredirectthe conversationbackto the matter athand. “I’d rather we find someoneelsethanenduretwowholemonthsofherfollowingmearound”
Paul’seyesarethreateningtopopoutofhishead.“Areyouserious?”
Nooneelsedaredspeaktomethisway.Butthenagain,Paulisalsomyclosestfriend.
“Youcan’tswitchnow.This is thefreaking PulsePixel. Tookme months ofbeggingfor themto evenconsider it. Idon’t knowifyou’venoticed,butyou’vepracticallyshotyourreputationtohellduringyourcareer.”
Ishrug “So?”
Frustrated,Paulrunshishandsthroughhisthinninghair.
Wehavehadthisconversationseveraltimesinthepast ButIcanneverbringmyselftoreachtheleveloffrantichedoes
“Because,”hedragsouttheword,“thisisliterallyyour lastchancetoshow thecountrythatyou’remorethantheperson theythinkyouare a woman-lovingdickhead, whose onlyredeemingqualityis the fact that he canmaneuver the puckand outskatehisopponents.”
Thecornerofmylipstwitch.“ButIam awoman-lovingdickhead.”
“You’vegottobemorethanthatifyouwanttoattractbranddeals Afewotherplayersareretiringthisseasonaswell I’ve lookedaround.Thepersonwiththeleastnumberofdealsonthatliststillhasatonmorethanyou.”
“You’vepointedthatoutonlyamilliontimes”
Paul’s angstseems to be growing. “Because youdon’tlisten,” he spits. “Look, this year has beengood for you. You’ve pulledinatonofmoney.Butallofthat’sgoingtostopinafewmonths.EveryathleteintheUSknowsthis.Allyouhavetodo nowistosecureenoughlifelongbranddeals,soyou’llbesetupfortherestofyourlife But ”
“ButIfuckedmywaythroughallofthefemalefansthrowingthemselvesatmeandhaveruinedmychances,”Iinterrupt. “That’snotwhatIwasgoingtosay Therearealotofpromiscuoushockeyplayersoutthere Hardlythereasonwhynoone canstandyou.”
Iraise mybrows.The lastthingIplannedfor todaywas togeta dressingdownbymyagent.Still,mycuriositygets the betterofme.
“Why,then?”Iask,withoutthetiniestbitofsarcasm OneofthefirstthingsIpromisedmyselfnottodoaftergettingintothe NHLwastostayupdatedonnewsclippingsaboutme.Ibarelyknewwhattheworldthoughtofmemostdays,evenafterlarge dramaticmomentsonandofftheice
“Becauseyou’re…adarksoul.”
What?
“Youdon’tspeak.Toanyone.Aboutanything.You’remissingeverytimetheNewYorkRangersgoouttocelebrateawin. Whenthehockeyseasonisover,youdisappearuntiltheystarttrainingagain.Nooneknowsanythingaboutyourupbringing.”
Myfistscontractoftheirownaccord,trembling Iextendmyfingersmindfully,tryingtofocus
“I’mforced to inquire whyit’s anyone’s business how Ichoose to lead mypersonal life. Iplay, Iscore. Thatshould be enough”
“Because the brands don’t trust someone they don’t know. Look at every sports player out there securing brand deals. They’vegotsomethingincommon”
“They’recringey?”
Paullookspissedenoughtopulltheremainingtuftsofhairoffhishead.“They’reopen.RememberAdamSanchez?”
Bilerisesupmythroat “TheBostonBruinsguywhoburstintotearsduringthatinterviewabouthisdeaddog?Greatrole model.”
Paul ignores mysarcasm “Whatyoumightnotknow is how manybrand deals he gotfromthatalone,” he says “That’s whatadvertiserswant.Someonetheycantrust.Someonerelatable.Someonewhocanconvincepeopletobuytheirproducts.” Isaginmyseat.Interactingwithothers usuallytires me outafter a while.EventalkingtoPaul has its limits.Especially whenhekeepsdroningonaboutbranddeals.
“It’sallwellandgoodwhenyou’rebringinginmoneyontheice,”Paulsays.“ButI’vehadameetingwithyourfinancial managerandcrunchedthenumbers Afterretirement,thequalityoflifeforsportsplayersgenerallydeclines,unlessthey’vegot agoodbrandbehindthem.Rightnow,youdon’t.Andonyourpresentsavings,you’regoingtorunoutofmoneyintenyears. That’swhythisissoimportant”
Paulhasbeensayingavariationofthesameforyearsnow.AndwhileIgenerallychoosetotuneitout,Ican’tignorehim anymore,notwhenretirementisliterallyknockingonthedoor.
“IalreadysaidIwasgoingtodotheprofile,”Isaythroughgrittedteeth.“Butyou’vegottoreplacethatreporter.” “Why?”Paulsays,thewordcomingoutlikeachagrinedwarcry.
“Why?”Ispitbackathim “Becauseshe’sthemostaggravatingwomanI’veevermetinmylife Hadtheaudacitytotellme thatshe is planningongrillingme oneverysingle detail ofmylife andwritingitoutinexcruciatingdetail.Wouldyoulook forwardtothatshit?”
Paullooksconfused.“Reggie,that’sexactlywhatshe’ssupposedtodo.” Mythroatclampsup.“Whatshe’ssupposedtodoisfuckinglistentowhatItellhertowrite.Butshe’sintentonobserving everysingleaspectofmybehavior,likeI’madamnedlabrat” Paul’sconfusiongrows.“You’reliterallydescribingaprofile,”hesays.“That’sherjob.Unless…” Ilookupathimashiseyesdarkenwithsuspicion “Youwereplanningtoliethroughall ofit,weren’tyou?”Paul says.“Makeupsomestoriesthathavenothingtodowith you?Andyou’repissedatthisreporterbecauseshe’snotlettingyouhaveityourway” “That’sonewaytolookatit,”Imutterdarkly.
There are several reasons Harper Morris gets on my nerves. One, she is hot. Long, wavy brown hair that frames her diamond-shapedfaceinthemostdelicateofways,hugeboobsspillingoutofabra,andhipsthatswaywhenshewalks Even herdowdyoutfitmadeherlookthatmuchhotter.Shelookedlikethesexylibrarianinaporno.Sheisatinylittlething,butshe alsohasasortofetherealconfidencethatmakesherlookbiggerthanshereallyis Whenshewalkedintomygym,thefirstthingIthoughtaboutwashowtogethertogooutwithme. Shewasscorchinghot I’venever hadtobearoundawomanthatlookslikethatwhileknowingthatI’mnotsupposedto pursueher.
Icouldhavegottenoverthat,Isuppose.
Until Igota hunchabouther sexual preferences Itwas a combinationofhow she carriedherself,her clothes,combined withastronggutfeeling.IjustknewIwasright.
AlthoughI have sexwitha lot of women, I rarelyenjoyit deeplybeyond the initial release Routine sexis especially boring.Foryears,I’velookedformorethanwhatmanywomencouldofferme.WhichiswhyIfinditsoeasytogetridofthem afterward.
ButIcouldtellthatHarperisdifferent.AwomanwhoisthatdomineeringinreallifeissuretodoanythingIaskherforin thebedroom.
Justthinkingofitmakesmehard.
KnowingthatHarpermighthaveakinkwillmakeitalotmorechallengingtoworkwithher. Especiallysinceshedoesn’tseemlikethekindofwomanIcanseduceintosubmission Shewilldoexactlywhatshetold meshewould.
Observeandwritethetruth
AndifHarperMorriswritesthetruthaboutme,myreputationisgoingtotakeanevenbiggerhit.
IlookupatPaul’sconfusedface “Ican’tdoitwithHarperMorris,”Itellhim “Ijustcan’t” “Toughluck.” He looks completelyspent. “Lookat it this way. You’ve got two choices. Get over yourself, impress the woman,andcausehertodoaprofileonyouthat’llsendadvertisersrunningyourwayandsettingyouupforlife.Orletgoof thechancetobefeaturedonthebiggestonlinemagazineintheUSandbeforcedtowaittablesintenyears Yourchoice” Istareathim,hatinghiscandor,butknowingdeepdownheisright.
Twomonthsisn’tthelongesttimeintheworld MaybeIcanmanagetofoolHarperMorrisintowritingsomethingdecent aboutme.
IfIdon’tletmyintrusivethoughtswin,liketheonesaboutwhatshewouldlooklikenakedandwrappedaroundme
HARPER
“Hello,Harper”
Mybodystiffens.
Ihad painstakinglyplanned for this conversationnotto happen Came home fromworkwiththirtyminutes to sparebeforetheeveningrush.EvendecidedtoskipgettinggroceriesbecauseitmeantIcouldslipintomyapartmentwithout beingnoticed.
Butitdidn’twork
AsIturnaroundandfaceMatthew,theguylivingintheapartmentabovemine,Iforceapolitesmile.Helooksthesameas always Clean-shaven,lightblondhair glowingintheafternoonsuncominginthroughthewindows,delightedexpressionon hishandsomeface.
“Hello, Matt” Franticallypushingonthe elevator button, myinsides are alreadyclawingatme, demandingIgetas far awayfromhimasIpossiblycan.
“Haven’tbeenseeingyouaroundlately.”Hiseyesareearnestashedrawsclosertome.“Iwasworriedaboutyou…and Carl How’shedoing?”
At the mention of Carl, my frigid heart melts some. How could it not? Matt is everything any woman would want successful,attentive,goodlooking Andhealwaysasksaboutmyson Hewouldmakeaperfectstepfather.Justlikehe’sbeenhintingforyearsnow. Butwhileheisstunninglyattractive,thereisaproblem
Ihavedatedguyslikehim adorable,stable,safe. Boring.
EverytimeIconsidergivinghimachance,Irememberthewordsofmycollegeex-boyfriend
This is too much. You’re too much.
Matthew is everythingIcould ever wishfor ina partner ButIwould rather staysingle thanbe sexuallyrepressed and frustratedfortherestofmylife.
Andthat’sexactlywhyIhavebeenavoidinghim.
“He’sfine,”Isay.Ithrowaquickglanceattheelevatorandseethatit’sonthegroundfloor.RelieffloodsmeasIturnback tohimandaimasympatheticsmilehisway.“Buthe’suptherewaitingforme,soI’dbetterrun.”
“Sure Sayhitohimforme Butbeforeyougo,I’dliketoask ” Idon’tlethimfinishthatdreaded sentence. The elevator doors part, and Islip into the cabin, pressingthe buttonto my floorasquicklyasIcan Oncethedoorsclose,Iheaveasighofrelief.
You’re wary of attracting men because you ’ re scared they won’t be able to understand you Thewordshitmelikeapunchtomytemple. Iblink,almostabouttolookaroundforwhojustsaidthem. ButIrememberamomentlater Iclosemyeyesandletoutagrunt,frustrationgrowingquicklyinsideme.
Damn that jerk to hell
IhatedeverysecondofbeinginReggieTurner’shouse.Itwasgratingenoughwhenheexplainedtomehowtheinterview wouldgo,butnothinghadbeenworsethanhearinghimdescribemethatperfectly.
Andnow,awholeweekafterourfirstmeeting,Ionceagainadmitthetruthtomyself Everysinglethinghesaidaboutmeisright.IdoshyawayfromperfectmenlikeMattbecauseIknowtheywouldneverbe abletounderstandmyneedsanddesires ButthatwasnottheworstpartofmeetingReggie.
Mypulseraces as Iremember thefeel ofhis fingers tuckedunderneathmychin.Hehadn’tdonemuch,merelyraisedmy facetohis.
ButthatsingularactionwasenoughtomakemeunderstandthatReggieisaboutthestrongestalphamaleIhavemetinmy life.
AndIloveit
Myheart is clamoringwildlyagainst myribcage. Insevenyears, I had not met a manI thought could matchmysexual energy Butmybodyistellingmethat,ifgiventhechance,Reggiecould EvenifheisthebiggestassholeonplanetEarth AndalthoughIwantedtopersuademyselfthatIwasimmune,thatIwassafe,IhavetoadmitI’mnot.
It isn’t just that Reggie is a stunning man. Through my work, I meet a lot of athletes and celebrities. People who are powerful,domineering,strong ButthereissomethingelseaboutReggie Thethoughtofhimtakingchargeisdizzying Andknowingthatscaresme.Alot.
AsIstepoutoftheelevator,I’mdebatingiftakingthisjobistherightthing Iputmykeyinthelockandturnit.ThemomentIstepintomytidytwo-bedroomapartment,IhearCarlscreamforme. “Mommy!” he yells, and everysingle thoughtofReggie is forgottenas mysoncomes runningtoward me and wraps his stickylittlehandsaroundmywaist.
Ihughimback,happinessballooninginmychestatthefactthatI’mtouchinghimagain.Carlwasanunexpectedsurprise thatdrasticallychangedthetrajectoryofmylife
ButIdon’tregretgoingtothatHalloweenparty.
Mychestconstricts,andIpushthefeelingaway LookingdownatCarl,Iaskhimcheerfully,“Howwasschooltoday?” “Great!” he yells, with all the exuberance of a six-year-old. “But Grandma’s having problems helping me with my assignment.”
Ilethimleadthewayfromourcozylivingroomtooursmallkitchen.Mymotherishunchedoverthediningtable,drawing straightlinesoncardboard.
“Hey,”Igreether “Thanksforpickinghimupandwatchinghim”MyparentshadbeenhorrifiedwhenIcamehomefrom mysenior year ofcollegewithapositivepregnancytest,andfor amoment,Ithoughttheywouldkickmeout.ButonceCarl arrived,theirdisappointmentwasreplacedwithgratitudeandendlesslovefortheirgrandson IwaitformymothertotellmeaboutCarl’sday,asshealwaysdoesafterIthankherforwatchinghim.
Instead,aworriedsmilespreadsonherface.“Carl,”shesaysloudly.“Gofindusagreencrayon.”
Ashespeedsofftohisroom,Igivemymomaninquisitivelook,wonderinghowconcernedIshouldbe. “What’swrong?Didsomethinghappenatschool?”
Shesighs,herfingersflyingupandkneadingthegrayinghairsonhertemple “No,nothinglikethat Butlookatthis”Her eyesaretrainedonthecardboard.
Ilookdown,thewordsincoloredinkatthetopofthepaperregistering
Morris’s Family Tree
“Ohno,”Ihearmyselfwhisper
IwaswellawarethatthiswouldbeamongCarl’shomeworkduringhisfirstfewyearsofelementaryschool.Almostevery childinAmericahastodothisassignmentatleastonceintheirlifetime
AndIdreadeditforyearsnow.ButI’dassumedIhadabitmoretime,atleastuntilthethirdorfourthgrade. Ilookatmymother,notbotheringtohidethemoltenfear inmyeyes “What ?”Istart,notevencertainaboutwhatI’m goingtosay.
Butsheanswersmyquestionanyway.
“Hesayshistreeisskewed,”mymothermutters “Thatit’sgotonlyonebranch,andallofhisfriendshavetwo” Herwordsdigaholeinthecenterofmychest.Itakeadeepbreath,tryinghardtomaintainasmuchcalmasIcan.“Carl can’tbethefirstchildthatevergrewupwithoutafather Theteacherswillknowhowtoexplainthatfamiliesaredifferent” “Harper.” My mother breaks out her rarely used stern voice. “It’s not about the assignment anymore. Don’t you get it? Beforeyoucamein,hewasaskingquestionsabouthisfather”Shelingersinsilenceforamoment Alargerholeformsinmychest.
No, no, no.
IthasbeensixyearssinceCarlwasborn,andmymotherandfatherhavebeencuriousabouthispaternityformostofthat time.Itwaseasytostaysilentonthetopic.ItrulyhavenoideawhoCarl’sfatheris. ButIhavetosaysomethingtohimeventually
“Hehasn’taskedmeaboutityet.”IheldontotheflimsiestbitofhopethatCarlwouldnotbecurious. Mymomrollshereyes.“Whydoyouthinkthatis?”Hervoiceisreproachful.“Hebarelyseesyou,andevenheismature enoughtounderstandnottoaskyoudifficultquestionsduringthefewhoursyouspendtogether.”
Carl
Fatigueweighsheavilyonmyshoulders,andIslipintoachair.Everythingshesaidtonightcutsdeep. “I’mtryingmyhardesttoprovideforhim.”Ihatemyvoiceforsuddenlybreaking.“Andit’sfreakingdifficult.” “Iknowthat”Asympatheticgazecrossesherface “ButCarlhasalwaysgottobeyourfirstpriority” “He is.” Myvoice is turningshrill. “That’s whyI’ve beenpullingall these longshifts. Because I want to get himinto privateschoolassoonaspossible”
“Butthat’snottheonlythingyoucandotohelphim,”shecontinues,notbackingdown.“Youcanhelphimunderstandhis heritage Wherehecomesfrom,whohisdadis” Feelinglikeafailureofaparentisnotfun.
HowdoItellmysix-year-oldboythatIdon’tknowwhohisdadis?WhetherItellhimnoworwhenheisanadultmakes littledifference Istilldon’tknowwhothemanattheHalloweenpartywas Iletoutahugesigh.“Ican’tdothat,Mom.”
Not because I don’t want to, but because I don’t know the truth, either “Hey!”Carl’svoiceringsbehindme,interruptingmytrainofthought.“Foundthegreencrayon.Whatdidyouneeditfor, Grandma?”
Mymothertakesitwithasighandstartstoshadetheleavesofthefamilytree.IrealizeasecondlaterthatI’mholdingmy breath,waitingforCarltoaskmewhyhedoesn’thaveapaternitybranch.
Buthedoesn’t
Slowly,Ireleasemybreath,lettingmydespairseepoutofme,replacedwithasteelyresolution.
Mymotheriscompletelyright I’mnotbeingthebestofmomstomyson keepinglatehours,neverbeingaround,noteven abletotellhimwhohisfatheris.
ButthereisonethingIcando.Leavemysonfortwomonths,writethedamnedprofileofReggieTurner,andcomeback withapromotionthatwouldgivemestablehoursandenoughmoneytopayforprivateschool.
AllIneedtodoistogetthroughtwomonthswiththemostaggravatingmanontheplanet.
Withoutlettinghimhavehiswaywithme
CHAPTER 4
REGGIE
Socialgatheringsarenotmything Leastofallthepre-flightmeetupsattheairportshortlybeforegettingontheplaneto headtoagameinanothercity.
Whilelockerroombanter,teamhuddles,andgroupdinnersareall tiresomeintheirownway,thisoneis special And when it is the first game of the season, even more so. Everyone is in a mood so hopeful and happy it makes mine positivelyfoul,astheyalltradestoriesfromthelastseasonorhowgoodourchancesare.
IkeepmypositionasfarawayfromthehubrisasIcan,myarmsfoldedandmybackupagainstthewall Myteammatesare chatteringand jokinglike a bunchofpreschoolers. Thankfully, not a single one walks up to askme questions about myoff seasonorwhatIplantodowhenwegetofftheplane
Stayawayfrompeoplelongenough,andtheywilleventuallyrespectthatyouwanttobeleftalone.
I try not to focus too much on what they are saying But then, a word floats to my hearing from the nearest batch of chatterers.
Boston
Ilookaroundforthepersonwhosaidit It’sAaronKnightley,apimplylittlebratjustdraftedfromoneoftheDivisionOne colleges.Helooksasnauseatinglyhappyasanynewrecruitwouldaboutgettingtoplaytheirdreamsportonanationallevel.
Iforcefullyturnmygaze away, remindingmyselfthatit’s notAaron’s faultand thatitisn’tpossible anywayto cramthe wordbackinhisthroat.OurfirstgameisinBoston,andwearegoingtobethereforasignificantlylongperiodoftimebefore movingoutagain
Acknowledgingthatmakesmewanttobashmyknucklesagainstthewall. Ilookaroundforadistraction.Anythingwilldo.
Andthen,Ispother aflightattendantwhoisgrippingthehandleofhersuitcasemuchtootightlyassheheadsstraightfor me.
Iraise mybrows, silentlyurgingher to go back Sure, abouta dozenattendants have approached me like this, and they alwayshadthesamereason.Abouthalfthosetimes,Iwasinterestedenoughtosqueezemyselfinthedamnedplanetoiletand getiton.Ienjoyeddoingthatonceortwice,butmostofthetime,thesexwasmediocre,maybealittleboring.
AndthelastthingIwanttodoishavevanillasexwhileflyingtothecityIloathedmorethananythinginthenaturalworld. Butshedoesn’tstop.Sheheadsstraightforme,herfacegettingwhiterwitheachstep. It’sonlywhensheisafewfeetawayfrommethatIrecognizeher Wemetonlyafewmonthsago,onareturnflighttoNewYorkattheendoflastseason. Itdoesn’tsurprisemeintheslightestthatIforgother Theencounterhadprobablybeenuneventful,andIfounditbesttonot cluttermymemorywithanaverageperformance.
“Hi,Reg.”Anervoussmilespreadsacrossherface.
Areluctantshiverrunsthroughme.Iabsolutelycannotstandforcedfamiliarity,peoplepretendingtoknowmeonacloser levelthantheyactuallydo.
“Myname’sReggie,”Igrindout,keepingmygazeexpressionlessasImeethers “JustReggie” “Sure.”Herfaceturnsevenwhiter.“IjustthoughtI’dsayhi,youknow.And ” “Great Hi”
Hurtseepsintohereyes.Anyothermanwouldprobablybesofteningalittleatthat,maybeevenenoughtoapologize.
ButIdon’tfeeltheslightestbitcontrite.Beforewegotdowntoit,Imadeitclearthatitwasgoingtomeannothingtome whenwelanded Andsheagreed
ButIshould have foreseenthatshe would read a deeper meaninginto our tenminutes offunand make me outto be the villain
“IsentyouafewmessagesonInstagram,”shemutters.“Youhaven’treplied.”
Anirritatedsighescapesme.
“Idon’treplytofanmessagesonsocialmedia.”
Sheletsoutasmall,painedgasp “Fan?” Imeethergazesquarely.“Yes.”
ShelookslikeIjustrippedoutherkidneyandhandedittoher “Itdidn’tseemtomelikeyouthoughtofmeasafanwhen youfuckedmeintheplanebathroomafewmonthsago.”Hervoiceislowandthickwithvenom.
Adimmemoryofwhiskingherintotheconfinedspacecomestome Butagain,nothingregistersaboutthesex Itmusthavebeenunderwhelming.
“I canhardlyremember what happened that day.” I refuse to backdownas hurt mounts inher eyes. “But I thought you understoodwhatI’msureIsaid thatwhateverhappenedbetweenuswasaone-timething”
Herknucklesgowhite.Sheopenshermouthandthensnapsitshutagain.
Then,Iseetheworstthingofall:tearsstartinginhereyes
“Fine,”shespits.“You’reafreakingdick,ReggieTurner.AndIhopeIneverhavetoseeyouagain.”
The feeling is mutual
ButIkeepmymouthshutassheturnsawayandmarchesoff,headraisedhighinfauxdignity.
Myshoulderssagwithrelief.
“Imustcommendyou,”someonesaysoutofnowhere,andIturnaroundtoseeCoachErnestsmilingatmefromafewfeet away.“Thatwentbetterthanthelastone.Youknow,whathappenedatDullesairportwhenthatwomanwentintoascreaming fitbecauseyourefusedtoacknowledgeher?”
ThelastthingIneedrightnowisanoffhandlecture.
“Yourpoint?”Iaskthroughgrittedteeth.
Coachshootsmeasmallsmile.“Nothingatall.”Heraisesbothhandsup.“Only…thisisyourlastseason,Turner.Tryto keepitinyourpants.Noshoutingmatches,atleast.AllwewanttodoiswintheStanley.Nothingmore,nothingless.”
AsIopenmymouthtoreply,myeyescatchsightofHarperMorris,sittingononeoftheloungechairsbehindErnest Her fakeglassesareperchedonhernoseandherhairisupinaprimponytail.Sheisdressedinapuffyblousethatdoesnothingto hidetheupthrustofherbreasts,andhermatronlyA-lineskirtgoesdowntoherknees
ButIdon’tspareasecondglanceatheroutfit,eventowonderifsheiswearinganythingunderthatarchaiclookingskirt. Becauseasecondlater,Iregisterwhatsheisdoing.
Watchingme.Listeningintently.And…mystomachdoesaroughsomersault…scribblingonagiantnotepad. Ithitsmethenextinstant.
HarperMorrisjustwitnessedwhathappenedbetweenmeandtheattendant Andsheintendstowritethatintomyprofile “Now,”CoachErnestissaying,“weshouldreallybetalkingabout…” “Pardonme,Coach”IstormpasthimtowhereHarperisseated,herheadbentoverhernotepad “You’vegottobefuckingkiddingme.”Myvoiceisfilledwithadeadlywarning.
Shelooksupatme,andI’mchagrinedtoseeafakesmileofsurpriseperchedonherlips.“Hi,Reggie,”shechirps.“Didn’t seeyouthere”
Grabbingherbythearmanddragginghertoherfeet,soIcanyellinherfaceisprobablynotthebestidea.Foldingmyown armstomaketheurgesubside,Ihiss,“Fuckinganswerme,Harper Whatthehellareyoudoing?Whatareyouwriting?”
Thesmiledisappearsfromher face.“I’mdoingmyjob.Youknow,thejobyour agentbegged PulsePixel to consider for months The one thatinvolves anhonestprofile aboutyou, so our viewers canknow everythingthere is to know And right now,”shesays,raisingherhandsanddroppingthemagain,“you’renotgivingusmuchofaninsidepeek.Yourdramawiththat flightattendantisprettymuchthesameoldstoryeveryoneknowsaboutyoubyheart.”
“Whichispreciselywhyyoucan’twritethingslikethat,”Ispitather,myfurymounting HowthefuckdidIgetstuckwith thiswoman,outofthemillionsofreportersoutthere?“Thisprofileissupposedtoimprovethepublic’sperceptionofme.”
Harperstandsup,resolutionheavyinhereyes “Wellthen,”shesays “Youshouldhavethoughtofthatbeforeyourquickie onaplane.Classy,bytheway.”
Her voice is a little louder onthe last few words most likelyintentionally and Inotice a few ofmyteammates turn around.Someoneevensniggers.
WhenIlookbackatHarper,shehasthesmuggestlittlesmileonherface.
Mythoughtsmorphintoarock-soliddecisioninaquicksecond
Tohellwithpropriety,Ithink,asItakeherbythewristandwalkawayfrommyteamandtowardhandicappedbathroom. Harperletsoutatinygrowlofresistance,butIpushthedooropen,dragherin,andlockthedoorbehindus Suddenly,weareallalone.
AndI’mexcitedforwhat’sabouttohappennext.
Afewsecondsago,IwaspokingfunatReggieTurnerforhowclassyitwasthathegotitoninaplanebathroom
Butthenhegrabbedmebymywrist,andIjustfollowedhimintoanairportbathroom.
Liketheweakestwomanintheentireuniverse
Notmuchclassier,ifyouaskanybody.
Themerethoughtofhavingsexinapublicplaceisthrilling,andIdon’tfeelanounceoffearashelocksthedoor,shutting usin
EventhoughIstilldislikeReggie,particularlyafterhearinghowhetreatedthatpoorwomanoutthere.
ButthelasttimeIwasconfinedtoasmallspacewithamanwhoknewhowtohandlemywildside,Ihadthebestsexual encounterofmylife.
AndReggieisexactlythatsortofguy
Myheartslamsinmychestashepushesmeupagainstthedoorofthebathroomandstepsasclosetomeashecanwithout ourbodiesbrushing.
“I’mgoingtomakeonethingperfectlyclear”His voiceis low withwarning “This profileisn’taboutwhatyoumayor maynotwitnessoverthenextfewmonths.It’saboutwritingwhatwillsellmetoyouraudience.”
I’mdistractedbythelow simmer inmybelly Thereis somethingprimal abouthim,asluttybadboymagicthatturns me molten.
“Actually,it’snot”Defiantly,Istarebackathim,curioustoseewherethisisgoing “It’saboutyou Theprofileisgoingto sellanyway.Maybeit’llsellevenbetterifpeoplebelievethey’vebeenrightaboutyouallalong.”
Heslamshispalmonthewallnexttome.Nothardenoughtofrightenme,butenoughtomakemeunderstandthatheisnot happy Asintenseashisgazeis,Iknow thatReggiewouldneverhurtawoman Afly,maybe Anotherman,forsure Butnot me.Ifonlyheknewthatallhiscavemandisplayachievedwastosendahotcurrentzippingalongmynerveendings.
IyawnasloudlyasIcan,wantingtoconveyhowunscaryIthinkheis
“Wedonehere?”Apartofmeisabitdisappointed.NotthatIactuallywantedthistogomuchfurther,butIdidthinkitwas goingtoplayoutinamorethrillingway.
“Farfromit.”Hebringshisfaceevenclosertome.Icatchawhiffofhismintflavoredbreath.“Givemethat.” Iraisemybrows.“What?”
“Thatdamnpadyouwerescribblingon” Ilookdownatthe notebookI’mclutching. “Notgoingto happen.” Islip itinto the pocketofmyskirt. Reggie mightbe rougharoundtheedges,butI’mpositivehewillnotfumbleundermyskirtwithoutmypermission Hisfacedarkens,andheopenshismouth,probablytobellowoutyetanotheremptythreat,butIgettohimfirst.
“Youcanholdoffonwhateveryou’reabouttosay,”Ispit.“BecauseI’mnotpublishinganythingaboutyou…yet.” “Whatdoyoumean?”
IstraightenupsoI’mnolonger leaningagainstthedoor.Hestill hulksover me,butI’malittlemoreincontrol.“Thisis supposedtobeaprofileaboutthemanbehindthemask,Reggie I’mnotgoingtowriteastoryaboutwhatIjustwitnesseduntil Iknowwhyyoubehavethewayyoudo.”
HelooksatmelikeI’mbatshitcrazy “Whatthehelldoyoumeanbythat?”
“Youcansave yourself.” Asmile forms onmylips as Iwhip outmynotepad and pencil again. “You’ll looka lotmore tolerabletoourreadersifyoutell mewhyyoutreatwomenlikechattel.Youbehavedlikeajackasstothatlady,andIcould tellthatwasn’tyourfirstrodeo”
“RemindmetokillErnestthenexttimeIseehim,willyou?”
Iscribbledownhiscommentaboutkillinghiscoachandputitbackinmypocket
“Moreproofthatyoucarryaroundalot ofragefornoreasonanyonecansee,”Iadd.“Butlet’sgetbacktothethingaboutwomen.Didsomeonebreakyourheartwhen
youwereateenager,andyoudecidedtobecomeaprick?”
His eyes flashwithfury. “This isn’ta fuckingtherapysession. Also, you’re notgoingto write anythingaboutwhatjust happened That’sanorder” An order.
Myskincrawlswithgoosebumps Thebarelycontainedpowerinhisbodymakesmyfemininityclench Pushingthe moment ofweakness away, Isuckina deep breath. We’re finallygettinginto a groove. Ihave interviewed enoughrage-filledmentoknowthatthebreakthroughsarealwaysontheothersideoftheirthreats Ijustneedtopushalittlebitmore.
“Also,Inoticedyou’renottoofriendlywithyourteammates.Youdidn’tsayawordtoanyofthem,andtheyskirtaround youtoo Why’sthat?”
Heplacesoneofhistremblingfistsonthewallnexttomyhead.“Stoptalking.Now.” IfeelthetiniestbitofirritationasIlookupathim “Orwhat?You’regoingtomakeme?”
Heholdsmygazewithhis,histensiondissolvingintoasuggestivesmirk “Icouldmakeyou.”
Somethingaboutthewayhesaysthosewordscausesalumptoforminmythroat.Goosebumpsarerisingonmyskinagain, butIpaythemnoheed
“Youcanmakemeleaveyoualonefasterbytalking. ”
Hetakesastepforward Iinstinctivelyretreat,pressedagainstthedoor Headvancesagain
“Don’tyouremember?”hedrawlsinalowmurmur.“IfiguredyououtfromthesecondIsawyou.Asmuchasyoupretend youlovehunchingdownandscribblingabsolutegarbageaboutpeopleonyournotepad,youwantmore Youwanttobeseen, outsideofthishorribleoutfityou’vegoton.”
Mythroatstartstocloseonitself.
Howdoeshemanagetopushmeoffmygameeverytime,withoutbreakingasweat?
Andwhatdoeshehaveagainstmyoutfits?
“Maybeyouevenwantmetowrestlethenotepadoffyou I’dhavetotouchyou,andyou’rescreamingtobetouched” Myheartisbangingagainstmyribcage.
Iforceoutalaughthatsoundsfoolisheventomyownears.“Onceagain,you’regettingaheadofyourself.” “AmI?”hemutters.Hisfingersreachforward,fillingthespacebetweenourbodies.Iholdmybreathashepressesagainst thewaistofmyskirt.Thenhegoeslower,brushingpasttheedgeofmypocket.
Ilookupathim Hiseyesarestillonmine Heiswaitingformetostophim,topushhimoffmeandtellhimtobackoff ButIdonosuchthing.
Becauseheisabsolutelyright Iwanttoknowwhathistouchfeelslike. Lettinghimhavemeisoffthetable.Butmaybethereisabitoffuntobehadbydancingnearthecliff. His fingers push into my pocket and find my notepad, but they don’t close around it Instead, he pushes backward, his fingersscrapingmybum.
Withoutwarning,hegrabsandholdsontomyass Tightly Asuddentidalwaveoflustovercomesme.Anerrantmoanslipsoutofmymouth,unbidden.
Thereisaglimmerofknowinginhiseyes,andI’malmostembarrassedtolookupathim WhileIwanttouncoverwhoReggieTurneris,Iwanthimtoholdmeevenmore.
“See?”hemutters,hislipsaninchfrommyear.“Youwantthis.Badly.”
Hesqueezesmeagain,andmykneestremble Iwanttohavealittlebitmoreresolve,butithas beenalongtimesinceI havebeentouchedbyaman.
Andnowthatheisdoingit,I’mfindingitimpossibletopushhimaway Withmylastbitofstubbornness,Istraightendefiantly.
“You’renotgoingtomakemewritewhatyouwant”
Helooksmildlyamused.“Notyet,anyway.”
Hegivesmyassonelastsqueezebeforehewithdrawshishandfrommypocket.Ikeepmylipsjammedshut,nottrusting myselftoholdmymoan
Hisgazedipslower,findingmybreasts.Thereisnotanounceofshynessinhisstare.Hecaressesmewithoutatouch,and mycheststartstoheavewiththeweightofhisattention
“Notyet,”hemurmursagain.“Butverysoon,Harper,you’llbebeggingmetotouchyou.”
A burning sensation courses through my chest. I want to raise my chin and tell him to go to hell, remind him how inappropriatehiswordsare.
ButIcan’t.Becauseheissorightitactuallypainsmetoadmit.Apartofmewantstobeghimtotouchmerightnow.
“And whenIfinallysee younaked…” He reaches out casuallyand pulls me in, his fingers heavyonmyass. Mylungs constrictasmybreastsarecrushedagainsthispowerfulchest“…you’regoingtobebeggingmetoclaimyou.AndI’mgoing tofuckyousogood,you’llforgeteverythingbuthowtomakemehappy EvenifitmeanswritingonlywhatItellyouto” Heletsgoofme,movesmeawayfromthedoor,andslipsoutthroughit.
Myheartispounding,andmybodyistremblingasIstareafterhim
Irecall the flightattendant, the wretchedness inher gaze as Reggie refused to acknowledge her and she stormed away. I was sorryfor her and angryatReggie ButIalso feltslightlyicky Iwondered whyshe feltthe need to go to himwhenshe probablyknewthekindofpersonheis.Reggieisdeathlyattractive,butthereareamillionotherguysoutthere.Hemightbe masterfulatsex,butthereisnowayheisthatgood.
Butmaybe itisn’tjustaboutthat Itcould be the raw, unmatched power he exudes Suchthatcould make anywoman includingme dowhathewantsregardlessofherowndesires.
IamstartingtounderstandtheappealofReggieTurner
REGGIE
Themomentthebuzzergoesoff,myteammateseruptinanuproarthatreverberatesaroundthestadium Iskateawayfrom themessofscreamingandhuggingbodiesbeforeitgetstoodamnmuchtohandle.Handingmystickovertheglasstoa randomkid,Ileavetheicefor thewidepassagewaythatleadsdirectlyintothelocker room Iappreciatethatall the fansstreamingfromthebleacherskeepawideberthastheyruntotherink.
Ever since we came to Boston, mymood has takena positivelyhorrible turn, whichis impressive, consideringit was alreadyawful Buteverylittlethingaboutthiscityfuelsarageinsideme,andeverycellinmybodyisitchingtogetaway Notevenwinningour firstgame ofthe seasonhas appeased me. And rightnow, Iamdesperate to getbackto myhotel room,takeahotshower,andsleepforhoweverlongittakestowashthetirednessoffme “Goodgame.”
IscowlatthevoiceofCoachErnest,who,ofcourse,isstridinguptome “Ididwhatyouwantedmetodo,”Itellhim.“Wewon.Whatelsecouldyouneedfrommerightnow?”
Hekeepsanirritatinglittlesmileonhisface.“Iknow,Iknow,”hesays,puttinguphishands.“Youdon’twantpeopleto associatewithyouandallofthat Heavenforbid,weeverseeyouhappy Howyoumaintainagoodgameontheicewiththat attituderemainsamystery.Youeverthinkyourreportermightgoeasyonyouifyoushowyouhaveaheartbytalkingtosome ofyourfansbeforeyouleavetherink?”
“WhatthehelldoyouknowaboutHarper?”Iaskhim.
WehavebeeninBostonforallofoneweek,butHarperisalreadydrivingmebatshit Sinceourepisodeinthebathroom theoneIwassocertainwouldcausehertobackoff shehasgonecompletelymental.Hernextcourseofactionhasbeento nagmeconsistentlyaboutdoingasit-downinterview.Andnomatterhow manytimesItell hertobuzzoff,shetakesitasan invitationtoaskwithmoreintensity
AsmuchasIhatetoadmitit,Iamattheendofmyrope.Itishardtogethertoleavemebewhentheoneweaponinmy arsenalisuselessagainsther
NottomentionthatIfeelmyselffallingpreytohercharms.
The time we shared inthe bathroomwas a clusterfuck. WhenI touched her, a current of electricityzipped throughme, turningmycocktogranite. Athickcoilofhairunraveledoverhershoulder,brushingmyarm,andthescentofhershotmeinto anearcatatonicstate,leavingmewithaburningandoverwhelmingneedtoclaimher. Ontopofit,shedidnotseemscaredlikesheshouldhave AndwhileIwantalotofwomen,Harperisdifferent.Primarilybecauseeveryaspectofherpersonalityiseerilysimilarto mine Sheissomeonewhowantstobeincontrol
Exceptinthebedroom.That’smytheory,atleast.AndI’meagertotestitsvalidity. Justthinkingofbreakinghermakesherdamnnearirresistible.Makesmewanttogoonthechasethatmuchmore. “Ionlyknowshe’sbeenrecordingeverysingleactionofyourssinceyougothere.” Igrimace.Coachisright.EverypracticeofourshasbeenwatchedfaithfullybyHarper,whospendsthetimescribblingin her fuckingjournal OnceImadeitclear thatIwas notgoingtospeaktoher,shedecidedtoobservemeinstead Andevery timeIletoutmyangeratsomethingorsomeone,Inoticeshescribblesabitfaster.
“Yeah,well,”Isay “Whatelse?”
“Someoftheotherplayersgotuncomfortable,”Ernestsays,stillwearinghisloopygrin.“So,Ihadtoconfronther.” “Idon’twantanyofyoutalkingtoher,”Isaythroughgrittedteeth.ThelastthingIwantisforthiscircustogofullyblown. Coachshrugs,unconcerned “Ihadto Playerswereconcernedshewaswritingaboutthem ButwhenImetwithher,she seemedtounderstand.Madeitabsolutelyclearshewasinterestedinonlyyou.”
“That’sarelief,”Isay,myvoicetingedwithsarcasm
Hedoesnotseemtonotice.“Butshealsomentionedthatyouarenotwillingtoengage.”
“It’snoneofyourdamnbusiness.”Ipushpasthimandtowardthelockers.
Hehurries after me.“Itis,ifitinvolves her followingyouaroundandspyingonthe restofthe guys.Talkingtoher will makeallofthisgoawayfaster”
“Ionlysigneduptodotheprofiletoliftthebadpublicityaboutme.”IhatethatI’mstartingtosoundlikeabrokenrecord. “I’mnotgoingtoletherx-raymebecauseofthat”
“Youdoknowyoucouldmakethismucheasieronyourselfifyouspentasecondsmilingatthefansbeforeleaving?Maybe she’llfindotherthingstowriteaboutyou,then?”
Iscowlathim.“Soyoukeepmentioning.Andbytheway,yousoundexactlylikeher.”
“Maybebecausewehadaconversationbeforethegame,”hegrins.“Pleasantwoman.”
Myeyesaresmartingwithanger
“Whythefuckdidyoutalktoher?”
He shrugs “Because Iwantedto,” he says easily “Butshe didshare whyshe needs tolatchontoyouas tightlyas she’s doing.”
Myfingersfoldintofists Great Shemanagedtoconvincemycoachthateverythingsheisdoingislegit Harperisaboutto becomeevenmoreinsufferable.
“Shedidneedafavortoo,”Coachsaysnow.
“What,permissiontowatchmeintheshower?”
Hegrins.“Well,no,”hesays.“Shewantedtoknowifitwouldbeokaytotalktotheteamaboutyou.”
“You’vegottobekiddingme”
“Shementionedthattheprofilewouldsuckifshestartedtoreleasepiecesaboutyourattitudearoundthem.Saiditwould lookbadnotonlyforyou,butfortheNewYorkRangersasawhole.Anewdraftseasoniscomingup.Wedon’twantcollege playersavoidingusbecauseyougaveusabadrepbeforeyouleft.”
“That’snevergoingtohappen.She’s playingyou.Andshe knows exactlywhattosaytomake youbelieve her ideas are valid”
CoachErnestisunconcerned.“Ican’ttakeyourwordforitoverhers,”hesays.“She’sbeenworkingthepressforyears. Youronlyexperiencewiththemishow topissthemoff Andevennow,whenyou’vegotachancetohunkerdownandleave withagoodrep,you’rebeingstubborn.”
It’sgettinghardertokeepmycool.“Again,noneofyourdamnbusiness.”
“Well,itmightbe,”hesays,foldinghisarms.“ItoldherIwouldtalkthingsoverwithyou,butI’mconsideringgivingher thego-aheadtotalktotheguys.Itdoesn’tinfringeonyourrights,anditmeansshegetstodoherworkfaster.Plus,ifandwhen theycondemnyouasanoutlier,ittakesthestinkofyourprofileofftheteam”
Iclosemyeyesandtakeadeepbreath,tryingtokeepmyswirlingheadundercontrol.
“I’mnotgoingtoletyoudothat,”Isay,oncemyeyesareopenagain Coach’sgringoeswider.“Yeah,Ithoughtyou’dsaythat.Shedidaswell.So,sheofferedyouanout.”
“An…out?”
“Yeah,” he says “She’s inthe little café bythe stadiumwaitingfor you Ifyoudon’twanther askingthe teamquestions aboutyou,meethertheresoyoucanfinallystarttotalk.Yougettotellherwhattowriteaboutallbyyourself.”
Also known as a sit-down interview
Ernestclapsmeontheshoulder.“Seeyou,pal.”Hechucklesashestrollsaway.
Istareafterhim,fuming Still,thefuryIhaveforhimisnothingcomparedtowhatInowfeelforHarper Itwasdumbtothinkthatasimple‘no’wouldholdherback. Sheisplayingdirty.
It’stimeIdothesame
Twentyminutes later, I’msittingacross fromher ina nauseatinglycutesycafé I have never walked into before. She is wearinga matronlydress thatfalls below her knees Her wavybrownhair is ina tightupdo atthe crownofher head Her beautifulfaceisbareofmakeup,butsheisstillspottinghertrademarkredlipstick.
“I’mgladyoucame,”shesays,pureinnocenceonherface
Myjawclenches.“Let’sgetthisoverwith.”
Shestaresdownatthenotepad.I’mdispleasedtoseethatit’slookingwaymorewornthanitwasjustaweekago.Ishould havetakentheblastedthingwhenIhadthechance
“Let’sstartwithyourupbringing.Didyougrowupinahappyhome?”
Mymindwanders,thinkingabouthowitwouldfeeltobiteonthosefulllips “Doesn’tmatter” “Idisagree.”Sheisalreadyputtingpentopaper.
“WhatonEarthareyouwriting?”
Her innocent smile is still in place as she looks up at me. “Well, being shady about your upbringing usually points to somethingdarkerunderneath.I’mjustmakinganoteofthat.”
Ihavetoclampdownontheurgetostandupandputthisinterviewtoanendbeforeweevengetstarted.
Instead, I stay put and grit my teeth. “That’s absurd. It’s normal not to disclose your life history to a stranger who’s basicallystalkingyou”
She shrugs.“I’dtell anyone whoaskedaboutmychildhood.People whoholdbackas muchas youusuallyhave a lotto hide”
“Fine,”Ispit,foldingmyarms.“Let’splayagamethat’llhelpmeopenup.”
Awarylookwashesoverherfeatures “I’mnot goingto propose yousit onmyface.” I grinas she turns cherryred. “Youanswer a questionof mine for any questionyouwanttoaskme.”
Shelooksconfused “Whatgoodisthatgoingtodo?”
“First,yougettobeonthehotseatforonce.”Ireachforthemugofcoffeeinfrontofherandtakeasip.“Second,Igetto learnsomethingaboutyoutoo It’sonlyfair”
“Ifyouwantitthatbadly,alrightthen.”
“I have one other request though” My shoulders tense up with the weight of my words “No questions about my childhood.”
“Yeah,notnow,but ”
“Ever”ThewordcomesoutsternerthanIwanteditto,butIdonotregretit Thisisnonnegotiable
Shestaresatmeforafewseconds.Then,surprisingly,sheletsoutadeepbreathandmoveson.
“Fine,”sheagrees “Whendidyoustartlikinghockey?”
The questionis a lot easier thanI would have thought. “Inmyteens. I saw a game whenI was twelve and decided to becomeahockeyplayer.”
“Didyoutellyourparentsaboutyourdream?Didtheyhelpyou?”
Myshouldersstiffen.“You’veaskedaquestion.Igettoaskmine.Whatageisyourson?”
Thewarinessinhergazeincreases Good MaybethisgamewillworkevenquickerthanIexpected “InevertoldyouIhaveason.”
“Youjustlooklikeaboymommy”
Sheletsoutasharpbreath.“Idon’tevenwanttoknowwhatthat’ssupposedtomean.”Shepauses,asifweighingthepros and cons ofgoingalongwiththis game. “Mysonis six,” she says throughgritted teeth. “Myturn. Is your lackoflong-term commitmenttoromanticrelationshipsachoice,or dowomenfindyouutterlyrepulsivebecauseyouassumeyouknow every littlethingaboutthem?”
Herangerwashesovermyfurylikeasoothingsalve MaybethismeetingisgoingtobealotmoreenjoyablethanIthought
“Idon’tassume.Iknowforsure. ”
“Youdon’tknowanythingaboutme”
Ifeel atinytwingeofamusement.“Iwasrightaboutyouhavingason.Iknow youkeepdressinginthoseabsurdclothes becauseyouarehidingsomething.AndIknowhowmuchyouwantmetotouchyou.”
Herjawdropstothefloor
“You’reludicrous.Andwhollyinappropriate.”Thereisaslighttrembleinhervoice. Isitstraighterandleanin “No,I’mnot You’venotbeentouchedrightinalongtime Icantell AndifIhaddecidedtolift yourskirtandfingeryoubackinthatairportbathroom,youwouldhavegonealongwithithappily.Youaredesperateforme. Sure,youfeelguiltyaboutitandcoveritupwithyourquestions,butyouarenotfoolingme”
“Youdon’tgetto…”
Itake her hand inmine, brushingmythumb over her knuckles and fixingmygaze onhers. It’s softand small againstmy callousedskin Therestofherprotestseemstodieinherthroat
Iwaswrong,Irealize.Yeah,Harperisadifficultwomantobreak,butsheisstillawoman.Andmaybeitisnottheworst thingintheworldtobreakher I’mmoreattractedtoherthanIwouldlike,butaslongasIremainincontrol,Icoulddoublethe fun.
“Here’sthethingthough”Icontinuecaressingherhand Herskinislikevelvet “Youdon’tneedtopretendwithme Isee you.”
Ashiverrunsthroughherbody,butshedoesnotpullback.I’mnotsurprised.HarperisasobsessedwithwinningasIam.
“Youknownothingaboutme,”shemurmursweakly
“I’ll take thatchallenge.” Ithrow a cursoryglance atthe restaurantaround us. We are tucked ina corner, awayfromthe attentionofeveryoneelse Stillsittingdown,Idragmychairtowardthetable Harperletsoutasmallgaspasmykneesbrush hers.
Asmiletugs thecorner ofmylips.“Youwouldn’tbethis scaredofmegettingcloser ifyouweren’tworriedaboutwhat youwoulddoifItouchedyou.”
“I’mnotscared.”Hereyesarefilledwithspite,alongwithsomethingelse.
Daring.
Sheisdaringmetotouchher.Daringmetomakeherlosecontrol.
“Youshouldbe”
Iletgoofherhand,placingbothofmineonmyknees.Slowly,Ireachforwardandbrushoneofherlegs.Harperflinches, butshedoesn’tprotestorpullaway Ihavealwaysenjoyedachallenge.
“Youdon’tmindifItouchyouthisway,doyou?”MyeyesarenotleavinghersasIreachoverherunnecessarilylowhem, slippingpasther toned legs and slidingupward. Imightlike to playrough, butnotwithoutconsent. Her eyes are trained on mine,andIgofurther,untilI’mbrushingagainstthelowerpartofherinnerthigh.
Therearebeadsofsweatonherforehead,butshemanagestomaintainadisdainfulexpression
“So,what,you’regoingtofingermeintoforgettingyoupromisedmeaninterview?”
“Wouldyoulikemeto?”
Shelookssurprisedatmyquestion.Buthermaskdoesnotfall.Yet. “Classy”
“IneverclaimedIwas.”
Shenarrowshereyes.“Youthinkyou’requiteskilledatusingsextogetoutofdifficultconversations,aren’tyou?Isthat whyyoukeepfantasizingaboutmysexlife?Andyoukeepthinkingyou’reright”
“I’mrightaboutyou.”Iglidemyfingersevenclosertohercenter.Harpershivers,butshestaysput.“Youcangooffabout howdirtyIliketoplay,butitdoesn’thideonesimplefact”
“Whatisthat?”
“That you want this.” As I slide my fingers higher, I expect to brush against her panties, maybe even some granny underwearthatIwouldhavetopushaside.
ButImeetnothing.
She is completelybare underneath Nopanties,nohair Myfingers are brushingagainsther slick,pulsingcunt Aroil of heatwashesoverme,whileallthebloodfrommyheadrushessouth,makingmelightheaded.
AgutturalgroanescapesmeasIstarebackather Shetiltsherheadandsmirks Sheistheveryimageofpoise,andnoone passingbywouldguessthatsheisthiswetforme,andthatIaminchesfromslippingmyfingerintoher.
Somethingaboutherabilitytomaintainastraightfacefillsmewithaneedtobreakher. Iwanttoseeherunravel.
Slowly,Ibrushagainstheropening.Shepartsherlips,panting,herhipsmovingtowardme.
“Youfeelamazing,”Igrowl,notbreakingeyecontact Hereyesarehalfclosed,herlipsparted,assheshamelesslygrinds againstmypalm. “Is all this creaminess for me, baby?” Ismile as Ipushmyfingers into her,almostlosingthe lastshred of control
WhatIwouldgivenowifIcouldhaveherinadarkalleyalltomyself.
Shecocksherheadtooneside,stillpanting,thoughtryingtoregaincomposure.“Areyouaboutdone?Orareyougoingto keepfingeringmebecauseyouthinkit’llmakemeforgethowtodomyjob?”
It’saharshsentence,buthervoiceisinshreds.
Isaynothing,insteadslidingmyfingersinandoutofher,pinchingherclit Harper’steetharejammedtogether,likesheis tryinghard notto letouta traitorous sound. Buther core is pulsingaround myfingers, quickening. She is grindingher hips againstmypalmnow,andI’mabouttolosemymindimagininghowshewouldfeelwrappedaroundme
“Letgo for me, baby. Letme see youcome undone for me.” Ileaninto her, whispering, as Igraze mylips over her ear, bitinghergently.Herpussyconvulsesaroundmyfingersinapowerfulorgasm.Istrokeherclit,brushingitwithmythumbuntil shestopsshivering Mydickishard,andittakesallofmyrestraintnottowhiskherbacktomyhotelroom
Herforeheadisslickwithsweat,andherentirefaceisredderthanatomato.
Slowly,Islipmyfingersoutofher,thethrillofvictoryrushingthroughme
“Youcan’tkeepdoingthis.”Harper’seyesarefilledwithacrazedamountofconfusionandlust.“Iwon’tletyoudistract mefrommyjobbydoing ”
Holdingmygazewithhers,Iraisemyhandtomylipsandlickherjuiceoffoneofmyfingers.
Sheinhalessharply.Hergazedropstomymiddlefinger,stillslickwithherarousal,andIbrushitacrossherlowerlip.
“Nexttime,Iwanttoseeyoufallapartonmycock”
Lustfillshereyesassheswipeshertongueoverherlips,andI’mabouttoexplode.
Strange I’mnotquiteinthehabitoflosingmyselfwhentryingtoridawomanofhercontrol
Sheisbreathinghard,hercollarbonesrisingandfallingrapidly.Shestaresstraightbackatme,andwesilentlychallenge eachotherinastaringcontest.
Finally,withasighofdefeat,shepushesbackherchairandstandsup.
“Thisinterviewisover,”shemuttersbeforeturningaroundandstormingoutofthecafé,herskirtflutteringbehindher.
Iwatchher,thejoyofwinningsurgingupinsideme.Butthereisanother,evenmorepowerfulfeeling. Thestingofloss.
BecauseIwouldratherholdHarperinmyarmsasshegetsmetospillmydeepest,darkestsecretsthanhaveherwalkaway fromme.
