by Livia Lang
Pisces
Livia Lang
Contents
Copyright
Foreword
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Epilogue
Also by Livia Lang
About the Author
© Copyright 2016 Livia Lang
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to any persons, living or dead, or to any actual events is purely coincidental. Please respect the author’s work and do not make any unauthorized copies or distributions.
Created with Vellum
Foreword
Pisces (February 19th-March 20th)
You are empathetic and always willing to help those in need. When someone new comes into your life and asks for assistance, open your arms and heart. Together, you will reach new heights.
Chapter 1
Amara Brown picked at the end of her white sundress absentmindedly. She had a folder full of notes in her lap, detailing every reason why she shouldn’t be looking forward to her next interview. It all added up to the same thing: Thomas Clark was a mess.
The bad boy of the swimming world had everything it took to be a star and break world records. His talent was undeniable. However, in the previous Olympic Games, Thomas had choked at the last minute, lost focus completely, and ended up going home with only a bronze medal. Since then, the charismatic athlete had spent most of his time being thrown out of bars, mouthing off to the media, and getting in Twitter fights with trolls.
So by all accounts, Amara, being a reporter covering the San Diego Summer Olympics, should have been leery of their upcoming conversation. There was a good chance Thomas was going to be brash and rude to her. In fact, he was known to storm out of interviews regularly.
However, a strange ball of emotion was nestled under her ribcage. It certainly wasn’t nervousness - if anything, it was excitement. She didn’t know what to make of it.
The door opened, and a thin, blonde woman stuck her head in. “Mr. Clark is ready.”
“Send him in,” Amara answered, straightening up in her chair.
In walked Thomas, a sexy swagger in his gait and mischief in his gaze. His white-blonde hair was cut very short, and his grey eyes were prominent in his handsome, rugged face. He reminded her a bit of a Scottish rogue in a romance novel. Before he even said a word, he had sucked the air out of the room, dominating the space with his mere presence.
Amara realized why she had felt weirdly excited about this meeting. Thomas was ridiculously, panty-melting, once-in-a-lifetime hot.
The door shut behind him, and they were locked into the room, which was so tiny that it could almost be mistaken for a cabinet. It housed only two chairs, the one she sat in and one directly across from it. Thomas strode over, flipped the empty chair around and straddled it, leaning his arms on the back.
“Thomas Clark, nice to meet you,” he said, his voice deep and sexy.
Amara flung one of her many braids behind her shoulder and gave him a wide smile. “I’m Amara Brown from International Sportsman. It’s nice to meet you too. I know we don’t have much time so I’d like to get started right away, if you don’t mind.”
“Fire away. I’m an open book.” His energy continued to radiate through the room, overwhelming her.
Amara looked down at her notepad, trying to avoid his piercing gaze and focus on her work. “Some would say that’s a problem. I know you lost a sponsorship earlier this year after posting a rant on Facebook, and no doubt there have been other problems behind the scenes. There are commentators saying you should be more selective in what you say to protect your brand. How would you respond to those people?”
“Wow, you really don’t beat around the bush. I thought this would be one of those interviews where people ask me how many eggs I eat while training, or if I’ll go to Disneyland after I win. But here you are going for the throat.” He sounded impressed rather than offended.
Amara’s lip curled slightly. “I don’t have any interest in fluff pieces, and neither do my readers. I want to get to know the real Thomas Clark.”
“That might be a tall order in twenty minutes,” he said dryly. “To know all of me usually takes a bottle of wine and an entire night.” He winked at her naughtily.
Amara’s cheeks began to get hot at his insinuation, but she tried to keep herself professional. “Unfortunately, twenty minutes is all we have. So, will you answer the question or not?”
“Yes, people would like me to be someone else. But I can’t help who I am. I speak my mind, and I always have. I’m not here to flatter people in order to get sponsorships; I’m here to win a gold medal. It’s not about the money, so I couldn’t give less of a shit about losing an endorsement because someone got their panties in a bunch about me saying ‘fuck’ on Facebook.” While answering, his eyes roamed over her body. He seemed to be spending an extra amount of time eyeing the way her dress cut across her dark cleavage.
Amara nodded and made some quick notes. The swimmer wasn’t mincing words at all, and she knew her article could be the definitive interview of the season, but only if she could keep him talking and open. Thomas Clark was at his most interesting to readers when he was being brash and unrestrained.
“What about you, Ms. Amara?” He scooted the chair forward, moving so close that their knees touched in the cramped space. “Do you tell it like it is? Or are you going to paint some ridiculous story in your article about how I’m a hero?”
“I don’t think anyone would believe that, even if I did decide to write it.” She looked him square in the eyes, daring him to challenge her. “Not that I would, mind you. I’m not here to create heroes or boogeymen. I just want to know what it’s like to be a champion.”
“I haven’t won yet.”
“I think you will. If you can keep it together.”
She was being blunter than normal, and part of her wanted to rein back her frank tongue. However, Thomas didn’t seem to mind at all. If anything, he only brightened at her harsh words.
He nodded slowly, the mischievous smile back on his lips. “You know, I like you, Amara. Next question.”
Amara’s heart began to beat a little wilder at his words, and she shifted slightly in her seat. “Your first race is tonight. If you get past this heat, there will be only two more races until you get the gold. How are you fighting the nerves?”
“Do you really want to know how I prepare for a race?” He reached out and put a hand on her knee.
Amara nodded, her eyes locked on his hand. An electric jolt went through her body at his touch, and she had to force herself to remain calm and professional instead of sighing softly.
“I fuck,” he said forcefully, a wolf’s grin on his face.
“You…what?”
“I. Fuck.” His hand slid further up her thigh, and Amara could swear that the room’s temperature was increasing exponentially. “I lost last time because I couldn’t focus. I had too much energy and too many jumbled thoughts going through my mind. So now I get off before each race, because nothing helps me focus more than a nice orgasm.”
“You’re kidding.” She meant to say it coldly and loudly, but instead it came out as a hoarse whisper.
“Nope, I’m dead serious. And with my race tonight, I need some help clearing my head.”
He licked his lips as he looked at her, and she couldn’t help but notice how immensely muscular and strong he was. Her body was calling out to him, wanting to kiss every inch of his wide chest and chiseled arms. Her mind, on the other hand, was telli
ng her to abandon ship and flee out the door.
“This is crazy,” she said, dropping her notes to the ground.
“Everything worth doing is pretty crazy. So, you want to help me out or not, Amara? It’ll be our little secret, scout’s honor.”
Her panties were already soaked; she wanted him so badly. Yeah, she knew she shouldn’t touch him - they were in a tiny room with ten people waiting on the other side of the door! But some secret part of her had awakened and wasn’t going to take no for an answer. A true madness had taken control of her heart from the moment she had set eyes on him, and she felt swept away by an inevitable force.
She glanced at her watch, stalling. “Fifteen minutes,” she said softly. “It would be a race to the finish.”
“Don’t you worry, doll. You’re going to fucking finish,” he growled. He stood up and flipped his chair back around. Then he sat down and pointed to his lap. “All yours.”
It had been ages since she had had a proper fuck. Her career took her around the world, keeping her far too busy to find a man. Too many of her nights had been spent eating take out in a lonely hotel room, with only her hand for company. Thomas was easily the best looking guy she’d seen in months. He was also available, begging for her, and based on the bulge in his pants, packing plenty of heat.
The complete and utter madness of the offer was starting to appeal to her. Maybe it’s time I let myself give in to desire, she thought to herself. My vagina is going to shrivel up and die soon if I don’t get it some action. Besides, who needs to know if I do something bad, just this once?
Recklessness overcame her. She climbed into his lap, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. The muscles rippled under her touch, and she was amazed by how strong he felt. He was pure power, barely contained in a human body. He radiated sexiness, and her core was clenching from need.
Their lips crashed together - needy and filled with haste. His tongue pushed its way into her mouth roughly, claiming her as his. He tasted like mint, and she moaned throatily as he began to devour her.
Pushing down, she ground herself against his crotch. Her clit throbbed at the contact, and she dug her nails into his shirt as excitement built inside of her panties. She still knew what they were doing was absolutely wrong, but she didn’t care anymore.
He slid his hands up her thighs and cupped her ass with his wide palms. He growled as he dug powerful fingers into her flesh, pawing and kneading her. She could feel his erection growing between them, straining his shorts. The monster he was barely able to contain in his clothing was practically pulsing as it struggled to escape and impale her.
She reached under her dress to pull down her panties, but he roughly grabbed her wrist before she got far.
“Keep them on; it’s hotter like that,” he whispered in her ear before nipping the lobe.
Amara gasped and arched her back. He was making her body hum with need, in a way it had never done before. She felt as if they were the only two people in the world, and the only way for her to continue to breath was with him inside of her.
“Pull it out,” she commanded, lifting her hips off his lap slightly.
He quickly reached down between them and unzipped his shorts. His long, dark pink cock sprang out. Its head was red, and the tip glistened with pre-cum. She ran her tongue longingly over her lips as she saw its girth.
“Ten minutes left,” he challenged, pulling her panties aside and positioning his dick at her entrance. “Still plenty of time to make you scream.”
Amara dropped her hips, sinking herself slowly down onto his thickness. It stretched and filled her perfectly, making her legs shake as her walls were opened.
“Oh my god,” she whispered.
Thomas just nodded in response. His normal cockiness had disappeared, and the only expression on his face was one of painful need.
“Please,” he ground out, gripping her hips tightly with his hands.
He could have bounced her in his lap, taking control of the speed of their fucking. But he stayed still, wanting her in the driver’s seat. Knowing that this powerful man was sitting there, his pleasure completely at her mercy, made Amara wetter than ever.
She began to work him, sliding herself up and down his length with ease. She rose up slowly, drawing him out of her tight tunnel, then pushed herself downward hard. She kept the rhythm steady, her hands wrapped around the back of his neck to brace herself.
It didn’t take long for a climax to build in her core. Every movement of her body only brought her higher, making her feel dizzy as her pleasure hit heights she’d never experienced.
The sounds of their moans filled the room, and Amara had no doubt the people in the hall were getting an earful. She didn’t care, though - she was rushing towards the finish line and needed release too badly to stop.
“So close,” she whispered, increasing her pace.
Thomas ran his thumb over her mound, teasing her pulsing clit. “We’ve only got seconds before someone finds us in here. Ten, nine, eight, seven,” he growled out, rubbing her clit relentlessly. “Six, five, four…”
Amara shut her eyes, feeling her toes beginning to curl. Her breaths were coming out in short gasps as she neared her climax.
“Three, two…”
“Yes!” She screamed, her body going tense.
“One!”
Amara’s body filled with sparks as she came completely undone. She writhed on top of him, letting her hips roll wildly in the throes of passion. Thomas was right behind her, yelling profanities as he too lost control.
Afterward, they sat with arms locked together, their foreheads touching, trying to catch their breath. She felt almost like another person had inhabited her body, and she struggled to come to terms with the recklessness of what she had just done. Before either of them could speak and break the tense silence of the room, a sudden knock on the door made them both jump in surprise.
Chapter 2
“Thomas? We’ve got to get you to the gym to start preparing for the race,” came a woman’s voice through the door. “Are you…uh…done with your interview?” The lady was being professional, but her embarrassment seeped through the wood.
“One minute. I’ll be out as soon as I finish this final question,” Thomas answered, winking at Amara.
He gave her a quick kiss, his lips tasting salty. Then he pulled her off his lap and set her wobbly legs on the floor in front of him. He gave her butt a final squeeze before standing and stuffing his dick back inside of his pants.
The composure on his face was surprising since Amara felt anything but normal. She smoothed her skirt, too shocked to make sense of what had just happened. Had she just fucked Thomas Clark - world class athlete and jerk - in an interview room? With people outside? This wasn’t anything like her normal behavior, and she was struggling to put her feelings into words.
“Listen, I’ve got to go win this race. But I’ll call you when this is over, ok?” he said once he had rearranged his clothing to hide the rutting that had just happened. His deflating cock was still visible in his tight shorts, however.
Amara nodded mutely, her brain buzzing in confusion. Before she knew it, he was out the door and off to the gym across the street to prepare for the race. The air smelled like his body spray long after he was gone, haunting the room with his presence. Since she was the last reporter scheduled, there was luckily no one clamoring for the space. It gave Amara time to sink into her interviewing chair and let her heart rate slow down.
She wasn’t sure if she should feel embarrassed or not. On the one hand, she had done possibly the most unprofessional thing of her life. On the other, it had been the most fantastic sex of her life, with the sexiest man she’d ever seen.
After a few minutes of moral wrestling, she decided it probably didn’t matter either way, because she’d never see the guy again. Sure, he had said he’d ‘see her later,’ but people always said that before running out on a one-night stand. It was just fluffy words, not something to take ser
iously.
She grabbed her stuff and poked her head out of the door. Everyone seemed to have wandered off, no doubt going to set up by the pool. The race was going to start in a couple of hours, and all the press wanted to grab prime seats. Amara’s boss would expect her to be there too, jockeying for a position in the front. However, she decided she’d rather watch the race in the hotel bar with a beer in her hand. Having some distance from Thomas seemed best at the moment.
*
Sitting in a booth at the hotel bar, Amara nursed her second beer and watched the screen. She had spent the last couple hours watching water polo, only half paying attention, but at long last, it was finally time for the main show of the evening: the men’s first race in the 400-meter swim. Athletes who passed this heat would make it to the semi-final race the next day, with Thomas hopefully among them.
Tension was high in the bar, as several countries were represented in the patrons. She saw shirts promoting countries from as far away as Ethiopia and Indonesia. No matter where they were from, however, everyone held their breath as the racers lined up. Drinks were left forgotten on tables, growing warm in the night air. For just a few minutes, the whole world seemed to stop together as one.
Among the athletes beside the pool, Thomas was the tallest of the bunch, and his muscles gleamed under the bright lights of the camera crews. His cocky smile was there, and he waved to the crowd before winking at the camera. Amara had no doubt that women across the world were fainting from the sexiness that oozed out of the television.
However, once it was time for him to get on his platform, his demeanor changed. He became deadly serious, his face showing deep concentration as he waited for the buzzer. The tension in his muscles was visible as he strained to hold himself back on the block.
A shrill noise filled the air. With a shot the swimmers were off, diving into the water like porpoises. The water flew up in an indecipherable mess of foam, hiding the progress of the swimmers. Amara gripped the edge of the table, finding herself more wrapped up in the race than she would have guessed.
