Читать книгу Hard and Fast - Lisa Renee Jones - Страница 8

TO CELEBRATE her first foray into the Rays’ locker room, Amanda shared dinner with her assigned photographer, Reggie Sheldon. Considering she’d only met him that morning, Amanda was surprised she already felt comfortable with him. He’d guided her through what could have been a rough first day of work, and helped her make sense of all the new people and places. The hole-in-the-wall restaurant he had sworn she’d enjoy had indeed been an exceptional choice. The food was phenomenal.

Amanda tossed her napkin on the tiny square table and sighed. “You were right,” she admitted. “That was great Mexican food. I thought for sure I’d given up such fare when I left Texas.”

“Told you,” Reggie said, pushing his empty plate aside. “Los Angeles is the other Texas.”

Amanda laughed. “Not sure what that means but okay.”

“L.A. is a melting pot. There is so much diversity here. It keeps things interesting.”

Reggie himself seemed to be a melting pot of characteristics. A heavyset black man with dreadlocks and stern features, his forearm sported a tattoo of Mickey Mouse. She was coming to know his choice of tattoo matched his unexpected sense of humor.

“Interesting is moving in a matter of days,” Amanda commented. “I still can’t believe this time two weeks ago I didn’t even know I was moving. I’ve started working before most of my wardrobe even crossed the state line.” She glanced at her watch. “Wow. It’s late. I have to write up something about tonight’s game for tomorrow’s paper.”

“That’s just a quick write-up, at least. It’s a good way to get your feet wet. The real pressure, I imagine, is your first feature.”

“Oh, yeah.” Butterflies fluttered in her stomach thinking about submitting that feature. “It’s not due until Monday night, so I have three days to fret about what to write.”

“I have a feeling you’ll do just fine,” he assured her. “But I better get you home to write tomorrow’s piece.”

“You mean my hotel?” she asked, but she didn’t give him time to respond, her mind on the work ahead of her. “Speaking of my story, did you get any shots of that home run Tony hit?”

“The one he blasted halfway to Texas?” Disbelief laced his tone. “What kind of wingman would I be if I missed that kind of shot?”

“Wingman, huh?” She kind of liked the sound of that. Back in Dallas, she’d been lucky to have her own coffee mug, let alone a wingman.

“That’s right, honey cakes.” He gave her a nod. “The right arm to your left. The holder of thy hand in troubled times.”

“Honey cakes?”

“What?” He lifted his eyebrow. “You don’t like your new nickname?”

“I guess you don’t like Amanda?”

“Amanda is a fine name.”

When he said nothing else, she took the bait. “But?”

He shrugged. “It’s what everyone else calls you. I don’t like being like everyone else.”

“You’re joking right?” she asked. “Using my name would make you different. The players called me every name imaginable but Amanda. Honey. Baby. Sweetie.” She rolled her eyes. “Men.” Then quickly added, “Present company excluded, of course.”

They paid the bill, then left the restaurant.

“What do you know about Jack?” Amanda asked, as they settled into the van.

“Jack Ass?” Reggie asked. “I mean Krass.” He started the ignition. “I guess I should have warned you about him.”

“Ya think? Seems a wingman’s duty if I ever heard of one.”

“Yeah, well, I hate to waste good air talking about that sorry bastard.”

“I take it you don’t like him any more than I do,” she commented. “So what’s the story?”

“In a nutshell,” he said, maneuvering the van onto the highway, “he’s an asshole.”

“And a chauvinist bastard. He treated me like I didn’t know sports because I’m a woman.”

“Jack lashes out when he feels threatened.”

“He didn’t act threatened.”

“Oh, he’s threatened. Kevin finally got smart about who he hired to replace star Jack. You have an advantage over the two guys before you, and Jack knows it.”

“And what exactly would that advantage be? Because I have to tell you, I didn’t feel any advantages back there in that locker room.”

Reggie cast her a sideways look. “A woman has an edge when it comes to men. You can get guys to admit to and talk about stuff they won’t with other guys. What you do with that edge is what counts. And right now, Jack knows you are getting attention he wants as his own.”

Amanda digested that information in silence. She’d never considered being female as one of the reasons she was good at her job. But then, it wasn’t until after her makeover that she’d started to see her feminine assets.

Still, her gender couldn’t completely explain Jack’s reaction to her. “Jack seems pretty tight with the Rays. Don’t get me wrong, they gave him a hard time. But it was in a you’re-one-of-the-guys kind of way. When we were in the other team’s locker room, not so much. But with the Rays, he was the one who seemed to have the edge.”

“He’s been around a long time.” They pulled up to a stoplight and Reggie gave her his full attention. “When he first started with the paper, he seemed real down-to-earth. A good guy. He was eager to earn the players’ trust—always printing their side of the story while still being objective. And the team takes care of their own. Jack ended up with all kinds of exclusives.” His lips thinned. “And that’s when the real Jack showed his colors. He changed in a big way. One minute, a nice guy. The next, cocky and demanding. The bigger his readership, the bigger his head.”

“And the players?” Amanda prodded. “Did they notice?”

“Oh, yeah, they noticed. But he was inside their circle. He’d looked the other way on some things, didn’t oversensationalize some career-damaging incidents, so the team hung tight. Until Jack does someone dirty, the guys won’t kick him out. But let me tell you, he will. Jack’s new job is a stepping stone to bigger things. He’s going to do what it takes to get to the next level.”

From the conviction in Reggie’s words, she knew he had experienced the bad side of Jack firsthand. “Jack did you dirty.”

The light turned green and Reggie focused on the road. “When we worked together he talked a lot about the two musketeers. All for one and one for all.” Pause. “In the end, Jack was out for Jack.”

“He burned you pretty bad, huh?”

Reggie didn’t look at her. “I let it happen,” he said and didn’t elaborate.

Amanda wanted to push him for details but decided it was best she leave it alone. They’d only just met, and Reggie had no reason to trust her. But in time, maybe he’d feel he could tell her the entire story.

“After being burned by Jack, I’m surprised you’re so willing to be my wingman.”

He laughed, but not with humor. In fact, the sound rang with a hint of bitterness. “Because of Jack, I’m willing to be your wingman.” He cast her a sideways glance and winked. “I want to see him go down, and I’ve a good feeling you can kick some Jack Ass. In fact, I’m counting on it.”

“You and me both,” she murmured, feeling the pressure of success more than ever.

She’d known her predecessor would be tough competition. Now, she knew Jack was more than that. If he would stoop to such low levels to achieve success, even burn those closest to him, he’d certainly bury her, given the chance.

But Jack Krass wasn’t standing between her and success—and she refused to let him. He reminded her of her ex, who’d been willing to do anything to get ahead, even marry her. Though she’d put her marriage behind her, she had learned to be wary of people like her ex, like Jack.

She wouldn’t play dirty the way Jack did. She’d play smart. And she would prove good reporting and good ethics could defeat big egos and dirty deeds every time.

BY MONDAY NIGHT, Amanda had written and rewritten her first feature story so many times, she wanted to rip her hair out. Now as she stared at the blank screen of her notebook computer, the pressure of that short time frame she had to capture an audience had her second-guessing herself.

One angle played over and over in her mind. If being a woman gave her an edge, why not use that edge in her column? How could she translate that advantage to the page in a way that connected with readers? She toyed with the hem of her oversize T-shirt while she considered and discarded potential story threads. As seemed typical since meeting him, her thoughts strayed to images of Brad wearing that skimpy towel. In her fantasies, a bolder version of herself tugged off that towel and indulged her every sensual impulse in the perfection of his body. Maybe she should make him the focus of her feature, write this crazy urge out of her system.

Her cell started to shake on the bedside table, disrupting her thoughts. Eying the caller ID, Amanda wasn’t surprised to see her sister’s number. She put the receiver to her ear, and before she could even speak, the verbal barrage started.

“You didn’t call me,” Kelli reprimanded. “It’s been days and not one phone call. How am I supposed to know what’s going on if you don’t phone?”

Amanda leaned against the headboard, preparing for a long chat. “Hello to you, too.”

“Screw hello. I’ve used great restraint not calling before now. I want the gossip. Tell me everything. How did the first night go?”

“I didn’t trip and fall, and my skirt did not get stuck in my panty hose. I’d say it was a success.”

“Falling isn’t so bad. Nothing wrong with creating opportunity for chivalry.”

Amanda remembered all too well her tumbling act, smack in the middle of the food court at the mall, when she’d switched from flats to heels. “Preferably not when landing facedown, looking like a fool, I would assume.”

“You didn’t look like a fool.” Kelli gave an unladylike snort. “Okay, a little, but it was your first day in heels.”

“I still can’t believe I fell,” Amanda said. “I never do stuff like that.”

“Walking like a goddess in heels is an art.”

“So I found out,” Amanda agreed. “I’m just waiting for the toe-pinching to subside.”

“You get used to that, too.”

“One day I might grow up and be a diva doctor like you,” Amanda teased.

“You could never be a doctor. You turn blue at the sight of blood. Besides, my dear little sis, why would you want to develop a God complex? Doctors, pilots and athletes all have gargantuan egos and you are much too sweet to either acquire one or date one.”

“Diva doctors are much better than God complex doctors,” Amanda replied dryly. Her sister had reason to be a bit cocky, since she was one of the best sport medicine doctors in Dallas, possibly in Texas.

“You don’t see me running off getting married,” Kelli said, not disputing her diva status one bit.

“No, you certainly are not. No marriage for you. I’ve heard it a million times.” Amanda mimicked her sister, “All play and no stay.”

Kelli wasn’t fazed. “Speaking of play, how ’bout them ballplayers?”

A smile lifted Amanda’s lips as she thought again of Brad’s towel. “I don’t remember the locker rooms being so—”

“Hot?” Kelli asked. “Heck, yes. There is enough beefcake in the locker room to keep a girl drooling for hours. You were so freaked out by the blood, you stopped hanging out with the guys before you were old enough to enjoy the scenery.” She made an unladylike sound. “Well, that and the fact you were talking like a sailor. It was quite comical. Cute little thing until you opened your mouth.”

“Well, I’m enjoying it now and, believe it or not, my sailor talking past comes in handy these days.”

“Just don’t go falling for one of those beefcakes.”

“Daddy’s a doctor.” Surely their father proved the exception to Kelli’s God complex rule.

“And Mom is a saint.” Apparently not. “Which reminds me. Call Mom and Dad. They are freaking out worrying that their little baby is okay.”

Amanda rolled her eyes. “Good grief. I’ve only been gone a few days. I’m twenty-eight and divorced, not eighteen and headed off to college.”

“That’s Mom and Dad. You know how they worry.”

“I’ll call,” Amanda promised. “But I have to make my deadline first.”

“How’s that going?”

“Not good.” Amanda went on to explain her run-in with her competition. “I’m thinking the best way to fight him is by embracing the whole woman power thing. Maybe try to draw female readers who might not otherwise even open the sports section.”

“Hmm,” Kelli said, pondering. “I like the concept but how do you do that and write a sports column?”

“What if my column could be the Cosmopolitan of sports? You know, take the personal side of the athletes, and blend it with their performance on the field.”

“I’m not following.”

“Well, I found out about a lot of superstitious stuff the guys do before the games. It gave me an idea about sharing the secrets behind the players. Digging into the men behind the uniform. I could top it off with suggestions for a sexy headline.”

“I like it. You have to have the game stats, though.”

“Right. But after the rundown, I’ll highlight a player’s more personal side. I was thinking I’d start with Brad Rogers.”

Kelli made a purring sound. “Good place to start. Yu-m-m-y. Oh crap. I have to go. I have a date in ten minutes, and I still haven’t fixed my hair. But I love your idea. And don’t forget to take your vitamins. Kisses.”

The line went dead.

Amanda rolled her eyes as she punched the End button and dropped her phone on the bed. Her sister was an herbal supplement freak, which made absolutely no sense, since most doctors hated them. But then, her sister wasn’t what anyone expected a doctor to be. She was as unique as they came.

Speaking of unique, Amanda had a kick-ass article to write. A kick-ass article featuring Brad…

She sighed, and leaned against the headboard, giving herself a few minutes to consider how hot he’d gotten her. After two years of being single and pretty damn close to celibate, she’d started to think her On switch had been locked in the Off position. Thanks to Brad, she knew not only was she on, but she was downright smoking.

Her mind pictured those rippling abs. The trail of blond hair starting at his navel and disappearing beneath the towel. She so wanted to see where it ended.

Yet, if she found out, if she dared to get lost in those sultry blue eyes, to taste those full, sensual lips, she knew how that would look. No one would take her seriously and it would be impossible to do her job. She would have to pack and go home. Any success she might have would be wiped away, dismissed as part of her bedroom antics.

Regret settled in her stomach. It had been so long since she’d felt this fire of attraction, this desire for physical satisfaction, and her libido had chosen a man out of reach. The only place she could have Brad was in a fantasy.

Maybe a little trip down fantasy lane was what the doctor ordered. A little mental satisfaction would rid her of this restless sensation. Amanda’s lashes fluttered, and she inhaled, allowing the sensual tension to flare.

What would sex with Brad be like?

Her hands settled on her stomach as she visualized him lying beside her, sprawled naked on the bed, sinewy muscles glistening in the candlelit room. He’d be hard for her, ready for her to take him inside her. But she wouldn’t give him what he wanted. Not at first. She’d take control, tease him, make him wait and want.

She’d climb on top of him, straddle him, his cock pressed to her backside. She might even reach behind her and stroke its length.

Her hands traveled over her body. She’d touch herself as he watched, tempting him without allowing him to caress her. She slid deeper into the imagined feel of naked skin against naked skin. Amanda palmed her breasts and her nipples puckered and tingled as she thought of Brad’s gaze, of his hunger as he watched her pleasure herself. He’d try to pull her close, to take control, and she’d shove his hands away, warning him not to touch…not until she said he could. Not until she gave permission. Yes. Dominating a man so wholly male was enticing. Exciting.

She’d lean forward, her nipples brushing his chest, nestled for a moment in the soft sprinkle of light brown hair there. From beneath a pillow, she’d produce the tools to ensure his compliance, two long silk scarves. She’d watch her intent register in his eyes, see his conflict as he debated resisting. But in the end, he’d let her tie him up. He’d hand over his power. And he’d be rewarded….

Taking her time, Amanda would secure his wrists, one by one. Her nipple would brush his lips and he’d claim it with his lips, pulling it into his mouth, suckling the hardened peak. Just thinking of that moment made her body ache, made her wet with desire.

When she’d secured him, when Brad was her prisoner, she’d begin the real game. She’d move between his powerful thighs, his cock hard, her hand circling its width. And she’d watch him watch her as she drew him into her mouth. Watch his eyes shut as he took a breath of pure pleasure.

Amanda thought of all the ways she could tease and please him. Her fingers slid between her legs, into the wet heat of her body, images of a new scene with Brad taking hold. Images of climbing on top of him, of taking him deep. Of riding him until she shattered with release.

Driving herself wild with desire, she felt the throbbing pressure of her orgasm build until, finally, she found release. And with release came regret that, as much as she wanted to, she could never dare to do these things to him, with him, outside of this fantasy.