Jock

by Jenna Rose

  “Oh, they’ll believe her,” I replied, slumping down in my office chair. “All she’s got to do is use that sweet little accent on them and they’ll buy the whole thing.”

  Becca was a former employee of mine, a girl I’d hired to give massages here at the studio that I’d opened two years ago.

  She was from Russia and had come to the United States as a student. She needed extra money and was one of my best employees. That is until her boyfriend, Noah, started hitting on me.

  I didn’t want him, of course. He was one of those guys who’s unbelievably arrogant with absolutely no reason to be, was still in college, wore imitation gold chains and wife-beaters, had no aspirations, drank too much, and kept joking about how he wanted me to be his “sugar momma.”

  He flirted openly with me in front of Becca, and no matter how many times I told her that I wasn’t interested, she never believed me. Actually, I think the fact that I didn’t want anything to do with him made her even more angry.

  A week later I was visited by the police asking me questions about the “legitimacy of my business” and “what kind of services” I offered.

  I almost had a heart attack.

  I’d gone to school for massage therapy, passed my exams, became a licensed CMT, taken out a small loan, and opened my business. I didn’t take a penny from my parents, who hadn’t even been able to afford to send me to school, and within two years I was supporting myself and actually putting money away. Hell, I’d even been thinking about expanding to a second location when all this happened.

  And now it looked like it was all going to come crashing down.

  Becca had told the cops that I had been forcing her to give “extra services” to male clients and threatening to report her to some government agency or something and get her work visa revoked. I didn’t even know how to do that or if it was even a real thing, but it sure as hell wasn’t true.

  The police had already interrogated some of my clients after they came out of their massage, and apparently—judging by my latest customer today—the word had gotten out all over town that I was one of those places.

  “It’ll be okay, Kylie,” Ryan said. He put a hand on my back and pulled me close. “Her story will fall apart. They won’t be able to find any guys who agree with her and this will all blow over.”

  “I wish I shared your enthusiasm, Ryan,” I replied.

  “It’ll happen. Trust me,” he said. “And then you and Mr. NFL Star can go live happily ever after!”

  “Me and who?”

  “You and Trent Baron,” he said simply. I shrugged.

  “Wait…what?” he asked, frowning at me like I’d just asked him what pizza was. “You—you don’t know who that was out there?”

  “No…”

  “Oh. My. God, Kylie!” Ryan gasped in the gayest voice he was capable of expressing. “Are you kidding me?!”

  “Do I look like I’m kidding, Ryan?” I asked. “Who was he?”

  “Oh my God, girl. You have got to do more than watch YouTube cat videos when you go home!” he laughed, pulling out his phone. “Let me show you who you just had your hands all over.”

  I was maybe a bit overly emotional at the moment, but there was no denying that the man I’d just thrown out of my studio—despite being a massive prick—had been devastatingly handsome. He was built, had muscles on top of muscles, and when he’d turned to look at me, had a chiseled face like a male model.

  When he first set his eyes on me, I’d sort of just frozen for a second. I knew he was checking me out; he hadn’t even tried to hide it, but honestly…I liked that.

  I’m the kind of girl who knows what she wants and goes for it, and I appreciate a man who does the same.

  I liked the little teasing game we were playing when I kept pushing his head down and I liked the way he let his fingers dance across my thigh in a way that could have maybe been interpreted as accidental…

  …maybe.

  I didn’t mind that at first, because it had felt personal, like a little flirty game between just the two of us, but all that came crashing down when he came out with it and I realized the truth: he’d heard Becca’s bullshit rumors circulating town and wanted to pay me for “extra services.”

  It was like the rug had been yanked out from under my feet and I’d come crashing down on a cement floor.

  “Here he is,” Ryan said, showing me his phone.

  “Trent Baron,” I said, reading from the screen. “Is the starting quarterback for the New England Patriots…”

  My voice trailed off as I looked at the photo above his name. He had a blue football jersey on, two streaks of black beneath his eyes, and sweat dripping down his face as he stared across the field.

  “Holy shit…” I muttered.

  “Yes, girl,” Ryan said with a smile. “That is the man you just threw out of your studio!”

  Chapter Three

  Kylie

  As I sat on the little shelf in my shower that I used as a makeshift seat, letting the warm water rain down on me, I still couldn’t believe the day I’d had.

  Trent Baron, one of the most famous athletes in the world, had come into my studio looking for someone who could actually give him what he needed in terms of a massage, told me that I was the one who could do it and that none of the other girls he’d seen had been able to, and what had I done? Thrown him out of my studio in a huff.

  But he had propositioned me afterwards! What else was I supposed to do?

  “Sure, Trent, baby. Just give me another hundred bucks and I’ll suck your dick!?”

  Yeah. Don’t think so.

  But there was no reason for me to be star-struck or whatever. I hadn’t even known who he was before Ryan told me.

  But despite all that, despite the fact that he was just another pussy-seeking jock who thought the world owed him everything and that every girl was just going to bend over for him and do his bidding, I had to admit that something about him still had me tingling inside.

  He was gorgeous, and he’d been completely naked under that sheet, and when he’d sat up, his erection hadn’t been lost on me either.

  Even though I knew he was definitely a ladies’ man who was probably banging cheerleaders by the dozen, I was still pretty flattered that I’d been able to get that kind of…rise out of him.

  “What would you say if I told you I wanted you?” he’d asked.

  I closed my eyes and took a deep breath as I imagined the possibilities.

  Would he have kissed me? Leaned in with those firm lips and pressed his mouth against mine? Or would he have guided my hand down there and placed it on the stiff rod causing the sheet to rise? Would he lie back and ask me to service him?

  I felt my body start to tingle as I tried to picture what he had down there. Whatever it was, it was big, there was no doubt about that, and as I pictured that beautiful body of his, I felt my pulse begin to rise.

  Despite the fact that he was a propositioning asshole that I could never be truly involved with, I still couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to rub coconut oil all over those muscles.

  Hey, guys can have these kind of fantasies, right? Why can’t we ladies have them too?

  If his front was anything like his back, then I would have been in for a treat.

  Picturing his broad chest and sculpted abs, I took another deep breath and slid my hand down my stomach, past my freshly shaven mound, and gently applied pressure to my sweet spot. The burst of pleasure that shot through me was completely unexpected, and I realized that even if I was furious at what had happened and what he’d said to me, I was actually incredibly turned on.

  I was dripping wet, so much so that not even the water from the shower could wash it all away.

  I slid a finger inside, knowing it was nothing compared to what Trent had down there, but it didn’t hurt to fantasize, right? It’s not like I was going to take the guy up on his completely not-classy offer, but that didn’t mean I was blind to how sexy he was.
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br />   Wouldn’t that be something? Losing my virginity to one of the most famous athletes in the world?

  It was a bit embarrassing to say that at age twenty I was still a virgin, but it was the truth. I’d always been awkward, especially the first few years in high school, and hadn’t really “grown into my own” (as my mom put it) until senior year, and by then, all the guys at school had already decided that I was a total weirdo.

  Not that I really minded. I only had a crush on one guy, this sweet art kid named Kevin, but he had a girlfriend since freshman year so that wasn’t happening.

  After graduation I went straight into massage training, apprenticing, and working, and kept telling myself that I’d always have time for boys later.

  Besides, I was still one of those girls who believed in “the one,” and you didn’t have to try to find “the one,” right? It would just happen because it was meant to be.

  If only he wasn’t an asshole…

  I felt a warm, glowing ball starting to form within me. Heat and pleasure radiated out from my core, rippling through my arms and legs as I moved my finger faster and faster.

  Trent…I thought as I pictured him taking me right there on the table, pressing his hard body against mine and penetrating me, claiming me as his and taking my virginity like it belonged to him and he knew it.

  I was close—so close…

  And that’s when a knock came at the door.

  “Kylie!” Ryan shouted, his voice like a splash of ice water to my face. “Kylie, someone keeps calling your phone!”

  “Who is it?”

  “I don’t know! The number’s not in your phone!”

  “Well answer it and tell them I’ll call them back!” I shouted, wanting to get back to what I was doing.

  I heard Ryan talking on the other side of the door and then a long pause.

  “Kylie!” he called. “You…I think you should take this call!”

  “Ryan!” I snapped. “I’m taking a shower!”

  “It’s Trent, Kylie!” he replied. “Trent Baron?”

  Holy shit.

  I was towel-dried but still dripping wet when I opened the bathroom door and took the phone from Ryan, who was standing there with his mouth agape like someone had just told him he’d been invited to Lady Gaga’s new album release party.

  He mouthed “Oh my God” at me as I raised the phone to my ear.

  “Uh, hello?”

  “Hey, Kylie?”

  My heart skipped a beat. It was Trent all right, and I didn’t realize until that moment just how panty-melting his voice was.

  “Y—yes?” I stammered like an idiot.

  “You’re a hard girl to get ahold of.”

  “Yeah, I was just showering—” But then a thought occurred to me and I snapped, “But how the hell did you get my number anyway? What are you, a professional stalker or something?”

  I was angry, but at the same time, I was also incredibly turned on. It was a terrifying mixture of emotions that I wasn’t quite sure how to deal with.

  “Not a stalker,” Trent replied. I could hear him grinning on the other end of the call. “It was actually pretty easy to find with some Googling.”

  “Great,” I groaned. “Well, Trent…what can I do for you? I hope you aren’t going to try and persuade me to give you some special treatments.”

  “Nothing like that,” he replied quickly. “And I wanted to apologize for giving you that impression earlier. It wasn’t my intention.”

  “Oh, it wasn’t? So what was it that you meant when you said you wanted me?”

  Before I could do anything, Ryan pulled the phone from my ear and pressed the speakerphone button, drawing a quick slap on the neck from me.

  “Just that,” he replied, causing my heart to skip another beat, “I want you to be my personal masseuse.”

  Ryan’s jaw could have hit the floor.

  “Excuse me?” I asked.

  “You heard me.”

  “Oh, I heard you,” I snipped back. “I just don’t understand what it is you are saying.”

  “I want you to be my personal masseuse,” he repeated. “You’re the only girl I’ve met in a long time—since my last girl left me—who knows how to work my back. I need you.”

  I had to admit it; I was flattered. But at the same time, who the hell did this guy think he was? Mr. Big-League-Football-Star thinks he can just behave however he wants and get whatever he wants?

  “Well, you are welcome to come into the studio any time,” I told him. “Now, if you don’t mind—”

  “That’s the thing though, Kylie,” he interrupted. “I need a full-time girl. I travel a lot for the games—have you figured out who I am yet?”

  “My roommate informed me.”

  “Incredible,” he chuckled.

  “What is? That someone out there in the world doesn’t know who you are?”

  “Hey, I’m not being arrogant,” he laughed. “It’s just—it’s been a while since I met anyone who didn’t know who I was. It’s a pleasant surprise actually.”

  “Well there’s a first time for everything, I guess.”

  “So what do you say, Kylie?” he asked. “You want the job?”

  “Yes, yes, yes!” Ryan mouthed to me. But I frowned and didn’t answer right away.

  “Well…how would it work?”

  “You’d come with me from city to city when I have away games,” he explained. “And when I’m here at home, you’d be available whenever I needed you.”

  “So I’d have to give up my business.”

  “I’m sure you could still have time for your own business,” he replied. “But, Kylie, the amount of money I’m going to pay you for this job would more than make up for any other clients you lose.”’

  “One second!” Ryan said quickly. Before I could do anything, he pressed the mute button on the call and snatched me by the arm.

  “Girl, you have to do this,” he said emphatically.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Listen to me,” he said with a deep breath. “If you lose your business—”

  “Don’t say that, Ryan!”

  “I don’t think you will, but if you do, you’re going to need money,” he continued. “This could be the answer.”

  I twisted my lips in thought as a small dose of adrenaline shot through me. The idea of losing everything I’d built because of one lying girl was enough to get my heart rate elevated.

  “Plus, you never know…” he smiled.

  “Never know what, Ryan?” I asked.

  He shrugged and sort of tilted his head from side to side. “I mean…he is gorgeous.”

  “And a jerk!”

  “A rich jerk!” he replied.

  “I’m not like that,” I told him, folding my arms defiantly across my chest. “I don’t care if he gave me a million dollars a month; I don’t want to date a jerk.”

  “Fine,” Ryan gave in. “But take the salary now while it’s on the table. If he’s really as big of a jerk as you say, you can just quit whenever you want.”

  He had a point. As much as I hated to admit it, there was a chance I was going to lose my business, and if that happened, it would be hard for me to get back on my feet again. The police might not even let me keep my license—in fact they probably wouldn’t—so what would I do then?

  I’ll kill you, Becca!

  “Tell you what,” Trent said. “I’ve got an away game tomorrow. I’ll be flying out tonight. Why don’t you come by and finish what we started earlier? If you decide you want to take the job, you can. If not, I’ll let you go. Sound good?”

  Ryan unmuted the call and blurted out, “She’ll take it! She’ll take the job!”

  “Ryan!” I blurted out, slapping him and tearing the phone away.

  “Great!” Trent laughed. “I’ll send the car for you.”

  “Wait—!” but before I could get the whole word out, he’d hung up. I turned to Ryan with eyes that could spew flames and balled up my fre
e hand into a fist. “What are you doing!?”

  “Oh, come on,” he replied with his best sassy expression. “You know you want to take the job; you’re just too proud to admit it.”

  I hate that he can read my mind.

  “Ugh,” I groaned. “And did he just say he was going to send a car for me? I didn’t even give him my address—”

  I’d barely gotten the words out of my mouth when I heard the sound of a car engine out front. Ryan and I both looked at each other before racing simultaneously into the living room and peering out the window to see a car that probably cost more than the house I grew up in idling in the driveway.

  “I think he already knows…” Ryan said with a smile as he looked at me.

  Okay, I thought. This is going to be a wild ride.

  Chapter Four

  Trent

  There she is, I thought with a smile as the car pulled up on the runway. My sweet, sassy princess.

  She came and that only confirmed what I already knew about her: she was mine.

  She’d thrown me out of her office, but if I was really the asshole she thought I was—which I wasn’t—and she didn’t have any kind of feelings for me, she wouldn’t be here now, stepping out of the Rolls and walking toward the airstairs.

  The way she moved had me hard as a bar of steel beneath my pants. It was almost the way an athlete moved; smooth, confident, sure of herself. And then those hips…

  Baby-makin’ hips if I’d ever seen them before, and the desire to breed her—something I’d never felt before—was rising within me.

  Kylie wasn’t your average hot girl. Not only did she have no idea who I was until her roommate told her, which honestly turned me on even more, but she also obviously had her own set of morals that she abided by. This wasn’t a girl who could be bought with money or fame or reputation.

  And that was the kind of girl I could see myself with. And she had no idea what she was in for or what I had ready for her on the plane.

  “Hey, there!” I called out as she reached the bottom of the steps, followed by Alfred.