“You know that bluffing at cards only leads to trouble. We don’t know anything about that skeleton in his closet. It’s a good thing that he thinks that we do. I think that we have a reason to celebrate. We’re going to have a good time tonight. You said all of that with a straight face. I’m not sure that I should be impressed or scared that you can lie through your teeth so easily.” I did enjoy the way that they had no choice but acknowledge my existence. I could see that it was easier for Michael than it was for his father. That was a man that had a certain way about him. He was used to using intimidation tactics like fine print in a contract.
“I’ve never been so turned on in my life. That was great, but what fueled my sexual appetite, even more, was putting that old man in his place. There was a crack in his stoic façade that I couldn’t stop smiling about.” He lifted me from the chair and placed my ample posterior on the table. He sat down and placed his head in my lap with my fingers moving through his short hair.
“It was interesting to see that switch turn on and off. This is not going to be easy, but in life, anything that is worth doing is worth doing the right way. I can only speak for myself, but I have this hunger that needs to be fed. Breakfast was good, but I’m sure that there is something that you can give me to wet my appetite.” I was alluding to the long and packed sausage in his pants. “We don’t have to be to work until tomorrow. We have all day and I think that we can make good use of that time in a constructive way.” He raised his head and lifted me once again into his arms.
“I think that you are a dirty girl in need of a good scrubbing. Let’s go see what we can do about using that sunken tub.” I had a feeling that there was going to be water everywhere.
I found out later that I was pregnant with his child. I was going to keep that to myself until there was a more advantageous time to spring this on him. We had spoken about children in the past and I knew that he wanted a big family. That was one thing that we had in common amongst others.
As he bounded up the stairs two steps at a time, I knew that the fire that we had for one another was never going to be contained. It didn’t matter what country we were in or what kind of workload we had. We would always have special moments just for us. I was looking forward to a bright future with the man that I loved.
Mia’s Hot Seller - Fair Play (Complete Story)
BLURB
Sean Donovan runs like the wind and parties like a hurricane. How do I get a hot stud like him to notice a simple girl like me? Easy, by pretending to be the kind of girl I know he can’t resist...
Kate Asher: Don’t tell me to play fair. I’m going to do whatever I have to do to get an interview with hard-partying football star Sean Donovan, even if it means dressing up like a hooker and playing bump-and-grind with him on the dancefloor.
Sean Donovan: On the field, I play fair, but in life, it’s anybody’s game. The second I saw her red hair and red lips I knew that I’d be making a forward pass. And when she flashed that cleavage, whew man, it was game over!
She wants to get inside my head and I want to get inside her pants. I think it’s time we talk about a trade…
Kate Asher
“Forget it, Kate, he’ll never talk to you,” Walter said, shaking his bald head slowly and making the squinty face that reminded me of that old cartoon character, Mr. Magoo.
I was doing my best to keep the whine out of my voice. Walter hated whiny women. I said, “But I don’t understand why I couldn’t at least try to contact Sean Donovan and—“
He gave me a dismissive wave, like he was shooing away a bad smell. Walter was in his late fifties and had drank like a fish and smoked like a chimney for decades. His voice was gruff and irritating, especially when he was dealing with what he considered to be overeager young journalists who were pitching him silly story ideas.
He said, “It would be a total waste of time and resources, so just forget it. Sean Donovan is still pissed at us for posting that video of him having a three-way with those two groupies in Chicago. Our people can’t even get past the guards at Kings Stadium anymore. We hav
e to cover their home games by watching them on TV or listening to them on the radio.”
I blew out a long breath and bit my lip. Arguing with Walter Thompson was like having a battle of wits with a brick wall. No matter how sound your argument, there was no way to convince him that your idea had merit once he decided that it did not. And Walter rarely gave merit to any idea I came up with.
I was a girl.
A chick.
A broad.
Hired to keep the EEOC off his back.
I should have been off writing for Glamour or Modern Bride. Professional sports reporting was no place for girl, at least in Walter’s mind. He’d never say it out loud, of course, because it would get his ass sued off. But I had worked for Walter since getting out of journalism school two years ago. I knew exactly how he felt about women journalists in sports, even good ones like me.
Walter was my editor at Sports Insider Online. He was the guy who assigned stories to writers and decided what went in the magazine, what went online, and what went in the trash.
Walter was an old-school sports guy, always reminiscing about the “good old days” and how things used to be, i.e. when all sports reporters were male. Walter was also a sexist pig who thought that “little girls” like me should be on the sidelines in slutty cheerleader outfits rather than on the field covering the game with the boys.
I sat in the chair across the desk from him and silently fumed for a minute. I’m not sure what I expected when I came in to pitch Walter the idea of me doing an exposé on Sean Donovan, the New York Kings star running back.
Hell, I didn’t even know if there was anything left to expose at this point. Sean Donovan had more dirt floating around the internet than Charlie Sheen, yet the good old boy sports reporters and TV analysts painted him to be a god.
The fans loved him, and who could blame them?
He averaged two touchdowns per game. And in football, that was all anyone cared about. As long as he wasn’t abusing women or kicking puppies, his off-the-field antics were more or less ignored.