by Kahlen Aymes
Jensen gently pulled his mouth from mine, and his body stilled, still embedded deep within mine. His hand pushed back the hair from the left side of my face as he stared into my eyes; his expression softly concerned.
“What is it? Did I hurt you?” His words were soft but laced with urgency. What am I doing wrong?”
I swallowed as two silent tears spilled from the corners of my eyes, rolling down the sides of my face and onto the pillow beneath my head. I shook my head. “Nothing. You’re perfect. I just can’t believe you’re real. That being with you like this… is real. I never knew it could be like this.”
A soft smile lifted the corners of his mouth, his eyes glowing with intense emotion as he bent to take my lips in a gentle, open-mouthed kiss. “I want to make you forget anyone else has ever touched you. From now on, it’s only you and me.”
I closed my eyes as his softly spoken vow reverberated over me. I gave myself over to him, allowing my heart to open, and my soul to trust like never before. He brought my body to the brink twice before finally letting me crash over in a hard, pulsing climax.
“Missy look at me,” he demanded as wave after delicious wave of pleasure rushed through me. “Look at me,” he whispered more softly.
My eyelids lifted languidly as my head raised trying to recapture his mouth with mine.
He thrust into me harder now, each one getting him closer to his own release, but still careful to press his pelvis into mine to ring the last shudders from me. “Uhhh,” he groaned, “Ummmm.” His voice was low and guttural as his muscles tensed and he finally allowed himself to come.
Jensen collapsed on top of me, his weight heavier as his breathing evened out. I wanted to wrap my body and my whole world around him. I used my inner muscle and clenched around his still hard cock, as I cradled his shoulders and head, kissing the side of his damp temple, and I wrapped my legs around his waist, not wanting to let him go.
A few minutes later when he lifted his head and stroked back my hair; his expression was serious. “I love you, Melissa. You’re mine. Say you’re mine.”
Joy burst within me like fireworks, and I offered a trembling smile. “I’m yours.”
The dimples in his handsome face appeared at both sides of his mouth, but his eyes never broke with mine. “Forever.”
I bit my lip, even as my heart soared. “You drive a hard bargain, mister,” I teased.
His expression sobered in a split second. “I want you; you and Dylan. It’s all or nothing.”
My heart stopped inside my chest. This was the moment I’d been waiting for my entire life.
“Well, let’s see… I choose… all.”
I barely got the words out before his mouth swooped down and took mine in another series of passionate kisses.
And just like that, my future exploded, like fireworks, into a million brilliant possibilities.
MISSY
I stretched lazily in bed; my nakedness under the covers reminding me of the beautiful night spent in Jensen’s arms. A slow, delighted smile spread across my face.
“Jensen?” I called, bolting upright into a sitting position. The blinds were drawn, and I couldn’t tell if it was morning or the middle of the night. The room was silent and pitch black, but there was a lingering scent of shampoo hanging in the air, hinting that he had showered and was already gone.
For a brief moment, I was sad that he left without saying goodbye, but then I remembered what we were doing here in Baltimore; the game and the pregame interviews.
Instantly, I scooted over to the edge of the bed, fumbling around blindly on the nightstand for the switch to the lamp. When I turned it on, the room illuminated, and I squinted in the brightness. My short pajama pants had been unceremoniously dumped to cover the glaring red numbers of the digital clock. I laughed lightly. No doubt, Jensen had placed them there sometime during the night.
My phone pinged, and I moved away the offending garment to find it next to the clock. The time glared at me like some obnoxious cartoon bounding out to inform me how late I was.
Holy crap!
It was already 8:30! I dropped my phone and scrambled out of bed and into the bathroom to hop in the shower. What a way to start my new job.
Jensen said the “talent” didn’t need to be at the stadium as early as the production crew, but I wanted to watch them set up and get a handle on the process, start to finish, and make notes. My only other experience on remote was the one trial weekend in L.A., and I had a lot left to learn. I shook my head, chastising myself as I quickly washed my hair and soaped, then rinsed my body.
“Awesome, Missy. Shit!”
Sleeping with my producer was bad enough. I wasn’t going to let him lower his expectations or give me special treatment. I had to make sure he knew it. No. This wouldn’t do at all.
I quickly dried off and used the blow dryer provided by the hotel on my hair but decided to forgo makeup. I cringed at my reflection. The last thing I wanted to do was see Jensen a la natural after our night of hot sex. I wanted to look my best for him, but right now, my appearance couldn’t be helped. I inwardly groaned, wondering if I should take the navy-blue suit and chartreuse blouse with me, and change later, or just get dressed now.
Ultimately, I decided to stuff my high heels into the garment bag, throw on some jeans, the ESPN polo, and sneakers, and just get over there as quickly as possible.
I shoved my phone into the back pocket of my jeans, grabbed the keycard to the room, my press pass lanyard, and purse; then ran out of the room and to the lobby.
In the cab on the way to the stadium, my stomach grumbled, and for the first time, I remembered I hadn’t eaten anything. “Awesome. Well, that’s what I get,” I mumbled.
“What was that, miss?” The cab driver asked.
“Oh, nothing,” I said, reaching behind me and pulling out my phone after it pinged for the second time that morning. I was sure Jensen was wondering where I was. I read his earlier text, then the second.
Morning, Sunshine. Last night was perfect. ‹3
Are you up? Jarvis will bring you over to Bank Stadium with him. Can’t wait to see you.
I could feel myself blushing. It was stupid. No one was looking, but still, I felt self-conscious. I needed the crew to see me as professional and in control of myself. I couldn’t act like some giddy schoolgirl. Somehow, I’d have to put my evening with Jensen out of my mind.
I sucked in a breath, considering what to say. I didn’t want him to think it didn’t mean anything, but it was crucial for the future of my career at ESPN, that we not let the others know. At least not right away.
Hey. Last night was perfect. You were perfect. (Don’t take this wrong), but I’m going to try to keep things on a professional level today.
I waited breathlessly for his reply, praying he wouldn’t be hurt or angry.
No problem. I feel the same way. However, as you pointed out last night, we weren’t fooling anyone.
I sighed, rolling my eyes at the irony of the words on my screen.
You’re right, but still. We don’t need for our body language making it obvious to the others that we boned all night. Behave.
If I must. Sigh…
I giggled as I typed out my response. I wasn’t sure we’d pull it off, but it would be fun trying.
You must. I’m on my way over now. I want to be there for everything, all day.
Okay. I’ll text Jarvis and let him know you’re already on your way. Just know, when I see you I want to kiss you. I won’t. But I want to.
Me, too. XOXO
Just about that time, the cab pulled up to the press entrance on the south side of the stadium. I paid the driver and got out, dragging my suit bag with me, then lopping it over one arm.
“Thank you. Have a great day!” I beamed, waving, then turned hurriedly into the building, anxious to lay eyes on Jensen, but reminding myself to keep my smiles to a minimum. Maybe people would interpret my enthusiasm as first-day-on-the-job excitement. I’d
just keep telling myself that.
Several local and national networks were covering the game with camera crews setting up at various points around the field, and around the locker rooms. The hallways were bustling with activity as I weaved my way through them in search of my crew.
Jensen had mentioned that the media booth was on the upper mezzanine level, on the South side of the stadium, and so I made my way in that general direction. Being so unfamiliar, it took me a few minutes, but finally, I found Liz running out of the booth in a hurry.
“Hey,” I smiled brightly, stopping her with a hand on her arm. “Is this where I’m supposed to be?”
She glanced up and smiled but shook her head. “Hi! You’re here early!” she exclaimed. Her face was flushed and covered in a light sheen. “The booth is already set up, but David forgot his headphones up here, and I have to get them down to the field.” She held them up for me to see. David Bocker was our director and apparently, was somewhere other than the booth. “He’d forget his fucking head if it weren’t attached,” she muttered, irritated. “We’re setting up for the pre-game interviews on the thirty.”
Liz started to rush away, and I glanced behind me at the booth, unsure what to do next and then back at her, bewildered. “Liz! Before you go; what should I do?”
The woman paused in mid-step. “Oh,” she looked at me. “Is your suit in that bag?”
I nodded. “I wasn’t sure if should wear it all day. I didn’t want to get it all sweaty if I had to haul equipment.”
“Well, typically, the talent doesn’t help set up.”
“But I want to learn everything I can.”
“Then, put it in the booth for now, and come with me. You wanna see everything, huh?” Liz’s expression twisted wryly. “Hurry up. I’ll wait! We’re the third section over.”
I was smiling as I turned and made my way through the door and into the glass booth that overlooked the field. The view was spectacular! I recognized one of the audio techs plugging in some of our microphones into the existing board in the booth.
“Hi, Jeremy!” I said breathlessly, my eyes searching for a spot to leave my garment bag.
“Hey, Missy!” He smiled, glancing up from his work.
“Where can I put this? Liz is waiting for me?”
He nodded toward the wall at the back of the booth, behind three rows of chairs. There was a row of doors that looked like closets, each one with a network name stenciled on the front of it. “Back there,” he nodded at the door labeled ESPN. “You see it, right?”
“I do! Thanks!” I literally scrambled up the aisle and quickly hung the bag inside. “See you in a bit!”
“Okay, but if I don’t, good luck today!”
I flashed him a quick smile. “Thanks!”
In seconds I found an impatient Liz waiting near the stairs outside the booth that would take us down through the stadium to field level.
“You know, you’ll be sorry you’re learning all of these things. If the director or the producer find out you can do more than smile in front of the camera, don’t be surprised if they take advantage in the future,” she threw over her shoulder as I followed her down the stairs. The stadium was big, and it towered above and around us when on the field.
“I don’t mind. I’m just happy to have this job,” I answered.
It wasn’t the first time I’d been on a professional football field, but the massiveness of it was awe-inspiring. Soon, the doors would open, and fans would begin filling the seats, and the place would come alive.
“You say that now,” she huffed under her breath as we walked up to the director, speaking to more of the crew on the sidelines. “Here, Dave,” Liz said, handing over the headphones.
He took them without missing a beat in his conversation.
My eyes, hidden by my sunglasses, scanned for Jensen and finally located him a few yards away. He was speaking to a well-dressed man and woman. They both looked like they were some high-powered, Wall Street, big wigs.
I touched Liz on her arm, making her look away from the clipboard she was perusing. “Who is that with Jensen?”
I used one hand to hide the other one pointing in the direction I wanted her to look. She pulled down her sunglasses and glared. “Ugh,” she moaned. “Agents. They’re trying to get air-time for their players.”
“We already have the list of interviews,” I said under my breath, my eyes narrowing as I watched their interaction. The woman was blatantly flirting with Jensen; touching his arm and doing a little hair flip while laughing at something he said.
My eyes widened territorially, taking her in.
“Exactly. The players have to perform well in previous games to get interviews,” Liz said. “Doesn’t stop them from last-minute lobbying, though.” She stopped, getting a closer look. “Good God, not Amy Hale.” She rolled her eyes in disgust before shoving her sunglasses back into place. “She represents players from ten NFL teams.” She huffed out her disapproval. “That bitch will stop at nothing to get new clients and then get her players in front of the camera. I bet her doc has her taking never-ending antibiotics. I’ve seen her coming on to Jensen before. Many times.”
“Really?” I cleared my throat, doing my best to appear nonchalant, but I could almost feel the heat seeping up from my neck and into my face.
Jensen was casually dressed in jeans and the standard blue and orange ESPN jacket over a white button down, and I watched him while he spoke to the pair, drinking in his tall form, dark hair and handsome face. His expression was all business, but the woman was animated, flashing smiles and leaning in toward him.
Liz gave an over-exaggerated nod, pursing her lips. “Oh, yeah, definitely. The more he ignores her, the harder she tries. Just look at her; if she weren’t so sickening, she’d be funny. Of course, no one would blame Jenson if he took what she so blatantly offers.”
“She’s certainly beautiful,” I said, suddenly acutely aware of my lack of make-up and network attire. Unable to tear my eyes away from the woman, I mentally compared my dowdiness with her glamour. I was heartened to hear Jensen wasn’t interested in Amy Hale; watching as he had turned his attention to the male agent and engaged him in a conversation, leaving the polished woman clearly chagrined; her face hardened, and her full red lips flattened into an annoyed line. It was clear she wasn’t happy that Jensen had moved on.
Liz shrugged. “I guess, but Jensen is well aware that there’s a booby-trap in her pussy just waiting to bite off the dick of anyone dumb enough to venture in,” she dismissed dryly.
My mouth fell open, and my head snapped around to look at my new friend, stunned that she would say such a thing. She was grinning, tongue in cheek, and in less than two seconds, I burst out laughing with her.
“Nom, nom, chomp!” Liz continued outrageously, making me continue to giggle even harder. Her brilliant smile flashed as the trio glanced in our direction having heard us giggling. “Have a good show, hon!”
“Thanks!” I called as she walked away.
I was still grinning a few seconds later when I made my way over to Jensen’s group, thankful for the sneakers on my feet. I bit my lip hoping to stop smiling.
The other woman’s heels were sinking into the turf; she wobbled as she pulled first one, then the other foot, loose from the sod only to have them sink again as the second she replaced her weight on them. It was chilly, but not cold enough for the ground to be frozen. Surely, she knew what she was doing?
Idiot, I thought cattily.
The dimple in Jensen’s left cheek appeared as I approached. He was definitely curious why Liz and I had been chortling. I sensed his first instinct was to slide his arm around my waist, but he stopped short. Still, a thrill shot through me: Jensen felt possessive.
“Here she is,” he said warmly. “The new correspondent I’ve been telling you about.”
“Hello,” I murmured, nodding to the others, painfully aware that Amy was sizing me up and down. I extended my hand, first to the woman,
and then the man. “I’m Melissa Ellington.”
“It’s a pleasure, Melissa,” the man said. He was attractive, but not overly so, and polite. “I’m Steve Sheridan. I represent Mick Jade.” He offered his hand, which I took.
Mick Jade was one of the names I remembered from the list. “Ah, yes. We’re interviewing him, pre-game, I believe.”
“You are,” Steve beamed at me. “I just wanted to introduce myself so, when I call you throughout the season, we’ll both have a face to put with a name.”
“Good idea,” I smiled at him. “Do you have other players, besides Mr. Jade?”
“Oh, yes, indeed,” he responded.
“No doubt, it’s too much for her to remember now, Steve,” the woman interrupted sharply. “I’m Amy Hale. I hope you’ll give my players the attention they deserve.”
I could almost feel the hair at the back of my neck stand up. “Your reputation precedes you, Miss Hale.” I smiled sweetly, and Jensen cast me a skeptical glance. “I assure you, I’ll do my best, but as you say, I don’t have them all committed to memory just yet.”
After a bit more small-talk, Jensen excused us from the agents with the excuse of work. “Amy’s reputation preceded her, huh?” The brow over his right eye rose and the corner of his mouth lifted in a grin as we walked back to our crew about fifty feet away.
“Oh, yes,” I said, biting my lip. “Liz filled me in.”
“She did, did she?” His tone was teasing.
I nodded but couldn’t push down my smile, finally letting out a breathless laugh. “Yep. Nom, nom, chomp!”
Jensen’s head fell back as he laughed hard, fully understanding the meaning behind Liz’s comment. “Leave it to Liz. I couldn’t have said it better, myself.”
My eyes widened innocently as a secret smile still played around my lips. “What? Not a fan of the barracuda type?”
Jensen smiled briefly again, then sobered as our eyes locked. “Not at all. I prefer a much softer approach, as you well know. Last night was incredible,” he said, making sure to keep his voice low. “I wish I could kiss you right now. I wish I could touch you, Missy.” His words ran straight through me like an electric current; his blue eyes roamed over me like a physical caress. I knew that I had no reason to be jealous of Amy Hale or others like her. Jensen was an attractive man. Too attractive, and it was certain women other than me would think so.
