by Romi Hart
“Fine,” he nodded. “Good luck writing your article.”
"Thanks," I muttered, and got up off the bench and scurried off to the other side of the street so I could flag down a taxi and get the hell out of there. I didn't know why I'd freaked out as badly as I had. I could have just taken things down a notch or hell, politely excused myself from the situation – but no, I had gone in there swinging and basically told him to fuck off and leave me alone. Way to shoot yourself in the foot.
I got in a cab and gave them my address, and soon enough we were on our way to the other side of town, back to my apartment. I pressed my forehead up against the glass in an attempt to cool myself off, even though I knew I was being ridiculous. That had only ever been a way for me to get my story, nothing more, nothing less, and acting like it was anything different had just gotten me into trouble. I reached for my Dictaphone, and found, to my horror, that it wasn’t there.
What? Fuck! I scrabbled around in my bag for a few seconds, tipping it upside down and emptying a pile of crap onto my lap in the process – but it wasn't there. What the hell? How had I managed this? I crammed everything back into my bag and stared angrily out the window. Did this mean I would have to see him again? Damn my drinking, if I had just stayed a little more sober, I probably would have been able to get away with just re-doing his answers from memory.
My phone buzzed, and I checked it, already knowing what I was going to read. And right enough, there was a message from him sitting there waiting for me.
“You left your Dictaphone. Want to pick it up tomorrow after training?”
I stared at the words for a few seconds, trying to figure out whether or not I should just leave this up to chance, but I knew that if I blew this interview it would be the last time I ever saw even a sniff of the kind of work I actually wanted to be doing. Sighing, I texted him back in the affirmative.
I arrived back a few minutes later, and headed upstairs to find Tara sitting up on the couch going through her phone. I closed the door behind me quietly, and she looked up and smiled.
"Goodnight?" She asked softly, and I nodded.
“I already put Jacob to bed – he was out like a light,” she went on, getting to her feet and reaching for her jacket. I gave her what I owed, thanked her, and she headed out into the night, leaving me alone with my thoughts once more.
I went into Jacob’s room, and found him passed out, sleeping deeply, chest rising and falling rhythmically. It was peaceful, just standing here and watching him, even though I knew that I would freak him out if he woke up and saw me standing there. I leaned on the door, all the tipsiness gone as I watched him. My heart swelled with love for him, and I wondered how in the hell I had managed to keep my mouth shut about him for so long to Adam. He was the most important thing in my life, by a stretch, and knowing that Adam didn’t know anything about him, that he didn’t even know he existed, made me ache a little bit. He didn’t really know me at all. I had kept that part of myself at arm’s length, knowing that if he found out he would likely lose all interest in me. I mean, what kind of guy – let alone a guy like him, a playboy with a reputation and practically every woman in the city throwing themselves at him – would stick around for a single mom if they had the choice? I closed the door softly and headed through to get ready for bed, doing my best to put Adam from my mind and failing. I had all I needed to complete the interview. I just had to get through seeing him one last time tomorrow, and then we’d be done, and I could put this all behind me as nothing more than a weird story I would tell people when I’d had a couple of glasses of wine. The time I made out with a soccer star. The time I would have gone further if I hadn’t snapped out of it and remembered who I was and what I was doing there.
I crawled into bed and pulled the covers up around my chin, remembering all the times Jacob had slipped in here with me after he’d had a nightmare. It was happening less and less these days, which was good, but I missed the feel of his little body next to mine. I couldn’t help but smile as I thought of him; if keeping him from anyone was a prerequisite for being with them, well, I just couldn’t do it. He was far too important and precious for that. My eyes began to drift shut, and before I knew it, I had fallen into a fitful sleep, filled with stress-dreams about what I had to do the next day.
I woke early, way before I had to be up, and turned over to grab my phone off the counter before I had so much as a chance to open my eyes all the way. There were no new messages from Adam, and I felt my heart dip a little in disappointment when I saw how little he was interested in actually communicating with me. Then, I remembered how abruptly I’d ducked out of our date the night before, and realized that I didn’t really have any right to complain.
It was early enough that I had time to get up and make myself a coffee before I needed to get Jacob out of bed. Usually, I appreciated the time I could get to myself in the morning, stealing a few minutes to stare out the window and think about whatever it was I was working on. But today, I found myself pacing back and forth and wondering what to do about Adam.
I wasn't thinking about anything serious with him, not yet – I'd have been crazy to. It was way too early for any of that. But I did want him, more than I'd ever wanted anyone since Jacob had been born, and since he wanted me back I was having trouble getting him out of my head. Should I go for it, fulfill the desires I thought had died for good? Or should I be upfront with him about the truth and let the cards fall where they may?
I sipped on my coffee and furrowed my brow, the caffeine lancing through my system and setting me on edge. I grabbed my phone and before I had a chance to think twice, I tapped out a message to Adam asking when I should stop by. I would have to go by the office first to explain what had happened, and no doubt give Irina a run-down on what had happened the night before. She might be my editor, but she had an ear for gossip that knew no bounds and I knew she'd be keen to find out exactly what had gone down.
The sound of little footsteps took me by surprise, and I turned to find Jacob standing the doorway, rubbing his eyes and looking up at me blearily.
“Is it time to get up yet?” He asked, and I shook my head, reaching out to ruffle his hair and turn him around.
“Not yet, baby,” I cooed. “Go back to sleep.”
He padded away down the corridor and I watched as he left, unable to keep the smile off my face. He was my lifeline, my reminder that everything was going to be alright. I pulled my shoulders back and took a deep, soothing breath. I just needed to get through today, and then I could put this whole confusing mess behind me. It couldn’t come quickly enough.
I got Jacob ready for school and sent him off, then dropped by the office to let Irina know what was going on with the story.
“But you think you got everything you need to come up with a good story?” She raised her eyebrows. I nodded.
“I think so,” I confirmed, trying to sound as confident as I could and failing. “I think…I’m pretty sure he’d answer any questions that I wanted a follow-up on, anyway. Really.”
“I’ll bet he will,” she cocked an eyebrow. “So you’re seeing him again today?”
“Just to pick up my Dictaphone,” I replied quickly. “It’ll be after his training session so I doubt I’ll stick around for long. He’ll probably just want out of there.”
“You know, he could have gotten an assistant to drop it off back here,” she pointed out. “Or left it at the stadium for you to pick up.”
“I know…”
The thought had crossed my mind too, but I hadn’t allowed myself to linger on it too long. He obviously did want to see me again, but it was probably just to get an answer as to why I’d fled from our date so abruptly.
"So you'll have the transcripts of the interview to me tomorrow?" She leaned back in her chair, tapping a couple of times on the screen of her tablet. I nodded.
“Yeah, and then I’ll come in and we can talk about angles,” I agreed, and got to my feet. “I’ll see you then?”
> “Good luck with your new man,” she teased, and I rolled my eyes as I stepped out the door. I knew I shouldn’t have given her the time of day about this kind of stuff, but she had a habit of getting it all out of me. It was what made her a great reporter and editor, I guessed.
Adam texted me with a time and a place – that was it, nothing more, no kisses or flirtatious little missives like the ones he attached to the first few messages we exchanged – and I headed out to meet him at the stadium, my mind racing the entire time. I wondered if he’d given everything as much thought as I had. Probably not. Hell, he could well have hit up some new chick in the time it took me to get back to my apartment. The thought made my stomach flip uncomfortably, but something unpleasant in me sneered “well, what did you expect?”.
I arrived faster than I expected, my brain so wracked with distracting thoughts that I could hardly keep focused on the speed I was going or the way the road whipped by me. The receptionist at the desk seemed to recognize me and waved me straight through, and I made my way down the winding corridors to Adam's dressing room once more. I hesitated outside the door, just like I had done the last time – I could tell him that I couldn't make it, ask him to dump it at the desk for me to pick up later. I forced my fist up to the wood and knocked. No. I had a story to write, and I wasn't going to jack it in just because I was awkward about seeing some guy I made out with.
I heard movement inside, and a few seconds later the door opened. My breath caught in my throat when I found myself faced with him, the guy who’d been cluttering up my brain for the last twenty-four hours.
“Hey,” he greeted me, his voice neutral. “Come in, I’ve got your Dictaphone.”
I stepped over the threshold and leaned awkwardly up on the chair next to the table, not wanting to make myself too comfortable but wanting to read as though I was half out the door either. He paused as he walked back in, observing me with something that looked like amusement.
“You can sit down, you know,” he remarked, amused, nodding towards the large seat I’d occupied last time. I perched myself on the edge of the seat and smiled up at him tightly, trying to keep my pulse normal as the heat levels in the room seemed to rise by about a dozen notches.
He went to his desk and rummaged for a second or two until he came up with the small recording device; he handed it over to me and I took it gratefully. Our fingers touched for the briefest moment, and I had to close my eyes for a second to keep from pouncing on him right then and there.
“You alright?” He asked, and I nodded, eyes flying open and a smile plastering my face at once to cover up any weirdness.
“I’m good, just a little tired,” I replied truthfully. “Thanks for letting me pick this up. I should-”
“Can I ask you something?” Adam cocked his head at me, cutting me off and bringing me to a standstill in front of him. I nodded, sitting back down and getting the feeling that this wasn’t going to be over with as quickly as all that.
“You ran out last night in such a hurry after we kissed,” he began bluntly. “What’s up? Did I do something wrong?”
“No, it’s just…” I shook my head and tried to think of a good reason to palm him off with that didn’t involve admitting that I had a son. “It was just too much. What with the interview and all I figured I should probably keep things more professional.”
"Fair enough," he shrugged, leaning up against the desk. He eyed me briefly, his gaze traveling up and down my body in a second. "The interview's done now, right?"
“Yeah,” I admitted. “I mean, I might need a couple more answers, but…”
“But there’s nothing more for you to be professional about,” he pointed out, his words dancing around me, enveloping me as he drew me in.
“What are you trying to say?” I tilted my chin up to meet his gaze, and he raised his eyebrows, looking back down at me steadily.
“I’m just getting the facts straight,” he replied, his tone unreadable. “I don’t have a lot of women walk out on me like that. I wanted to know what I was doing wrong.”
“You weren’t doing anything wrong,” I blurted before I could stop myself.
“Oh, really?” he seemed to perk up with interest. “So you liked it when I kissed you like that?”
“Yes,” I breathed, forgetting everything I’d told myself before I’d come out here, pushing it all out of my mind as his eyes bore into mine, heated and heavy and hungry. He was standing directly in front of me, taking up most of my line of vision, and I couldn’t drag my eyes away from his. I could have just gotten up and left, walked out and shattered the intense atmosphere that was growing between us, but I couldn’t find it in myself to do it. It was just the two of us, alone in that dressing room, and I wanted more. I wanted him. It had been so long since I’d wanted anyone that way, but he seemed to draw it out of me, leaving me desirous and dizzy at the thought of his hands on me again. My gaze flicked to his fingers, and I remembered the deft way he’d tucked them between my legs the night before. My muscles tensed at the thought, my body growing stiff.
He crouched down in front of me suddenly, getting on my level and looking me dead in the eye. He placed a hand on the side of the chair, not touching me, but making me so aware of his presence.
“I haven’t been able to get you out of my head since last night,” he murmured. “All I wanted was to go after you and take you back to my place and fuck you till you couldn’t walk the next day.”
I swallowed loudly as I tried to get a hold on myself. I knew that this was probably a bad idea. He was the kind of guy who would break my heart a dozen times over without even knowing he was doing it, and here I was, sitting in front of him and letting him talk dirty to me and turn me on beyond anything I'd ever known before. There was still time – I knew he wouldn't stop me if I went for the door, and I could be out of here and back in my car in a minute's time. But I didn't want to move. I wanted him, needed him, and he knew it. A smile curled up onto the corner of his lips as I parted my legs and shifted towards him, till our faces were only an inch or two apart. But, before we could kiss again, he caught my chin in his hand and held me there, tantalizingly close and yet so far away at the same time.
He moved his other hand onto my thigh, watching to read my reaction, and slowly pushed it up and under my skirt. I squirmed in my seat; I wanted him to kiss me, but I didn't want him to stop what he was doing. I loved the way he touched me. He was so confident, so in-control so far from the fumbling high-school experiences that I could remember from before Jacob was born. His hand crept up and beneath my skirt, and he hooked his fingers around my panties and slowly inched them down until they were around my ankles. He skimmed his thumb over my lips and I opened my mouth, wanting to taste him, wanting to feel him against me.
He moved his head down and pushed my legs back, so that I was exposed completely sitting on that seat. I gasped and looked up at the ceiling; I couldn’t believe this was happening but at the same time, I knew I didn’t want it to stop. He pushed my skirt up over my hips so that there was nothing between him and my pussy, and then looked up at me.
"I really want to eat you out," he murmured, his mouth so close to my pussy that I could feel his hot breath tickling my skin. I closed my eyes and nodded. I needed some relief already, my body arching and squirming at the promise of something more. Slowly, he lowered his mouth onto me, and finally, I found some relief.
He flattened his tongue and moved it slowly from the bottom of my slit right to my clit and back again, letting out a soft growl as he did so as though he’d been craving this for months. He took his time, lapping up and down over and over and twisting his head this way and that so he could suck and lick at my swollen outer lips too. I gasped and tightened my grip on the arms of the chair, just trying to keep myself upright as he tucked one hand beneath my ass and tilted it up towards up so that he could taste every inch of me at once.
"You smell so good," he groaned as he centered in on my clit, sucking lightly and fli
cking his tongue back and forth lazily as though he could have knelt there and done it all day. I reached down to grip his hair, wanting to feel him any way I could, and he slowly pushed a finger into me as he sealed his lips around my clit and sucked harder. The feeling was almost too much, coming right up to too intense and backing down again as he matched the intensity of the pressure with the motion of his finger. He knew exactly what he was doing and I was helpless to resist as he ate me out as though he hadn't seen a meal in days.
I tightened my grip on his hair and lifted my lips to allow him easier access. I couldn't believe this was happening – Adam Channing was between my legs, going down on me, in his dressing room in the middle of the afternoon just a couple of days after we'd first met. I never in a million years could have predicted this, and yet, I was in no hurry to get it over with. I glanced over at the door – what if someone walked in and saw us? I couldn't imagine the field day the press would have with information like this, or the impact it might have on my career. Even as those stressed-out thoughts passed through my mind, I couldn't focus on them as he focused on his efforts, pushing another finger inside of me and curling them round to hit that sensitive spot inside my pussy.
“Shit!” I hissed through my teeth as I felt myself growing close. I needed this. Shit, I needed this so badly. He sucked hard on my clit, moving his fingers up and down inside of me and sinking his fingers into my ass so that the range of sensation seemed to take me over all at once. And then, finally, it hit me.
I wasn’t sure if the noises that came out of my mouth as I came were entirely human, but I couldn’t have given less of a damn. My pussy clenched and my clit throbbed as I finally came, my entire torso lifting out of the chair as I gasped for air. He eased up at once, pulling back so that his lips were barely brushing up against my pussy, and I sank back into the chair after a few seconds, my breath still coming faster than before. He pulled himself up to face me and finally kissed me – I could taste myself on his mouth, and it was one of the hottest things I’d ever felt in my life. I grasped his head, pulling him close, kissing him greedily as I had no idea when or if we’d do this again.
