by Lana Hartley
“What are you saying?” I hiss, resisting the urge to jump on top of his desk and strangling him.
“Use your brain, girl. You have a privileged relationship with both men… If you play your cards right, the sky’s the limit for you. You can go far in the Gazette - maybe even escape that gutter that’s the sports department.”
“You want me to use them?” I ask him, not sure if I believe what I’m hearing.
“And you call yourself a journalist? That’s exactly what journalists do, you stupid girl. They use people so that they can get to the truth.”
“This isn’t about the truth! This is about you being greedy! You don’t care about anyone or anything, you just want to sell newspapers and line your own pockets!” I reply, raising my voice so much that I’m not longer just arguing - I’m shouting at him.
“Think it over… Play your cards right, you idiot. Soon enough I’ll be retiring, and who knows…? You might even end up running the Gazette. Wouldn’t you like that, Natalie?”
“And all I need to do is offer my soul in return, right? You want me to work as your spy, to feed you privileged information, and then I’ll have what I want, uh…?”
“There’s a price for everyone… Even for you,” he growls again, finishing his cigarette and putting it out.
“No,” I whisper, suddenly realizing the extent of my feelings toward Hunter and Logan. “If I have a price, it’s not one you can afford.” I take a deep breath then and just the let the words explode in my mouth. “I quit,” I tell him, the words coming out of my mouth like flaming cannonballs. With one last disgusted look at Ed, I then turn on my heels and bolt out of his office.
Screw Ed, screw the Gazette… I don’t need any of it. I have been lucky enough to meet both Hunter and Logan, all the rest is nothing more than a detail. And now that I know the truth of what happened, maybe I can put a stop to all this. I can build a bridge between Hunter and Logan, tell them all about the recording and how Ed played me… Maybe there’s still hope.
Heading toward the office I share with Michelle, I don’t even respond as she asks me about what happened. She’s talking, but I’m not even listening to what she’s saying - I have a one track mind right now.
I just hope I’m not too late.
With trembling fingers, I take my phone out of my purse and dial Hunter’s number. “Please, please, please…” I whisper as I hear the tone on the other side. If Hunter picks up, I’ll tell him the truth of what happened, and then there’s no reason for him to fight with Logan…
Oh, God, please.
Please, please, please.
I keep the phone pressed against my ear for what seems like forever, but Hunter never picks up.
Even though I know the truth, it seems that there’s no way for me to stop this fight. This is Hunter’s last day before he isolates himself on a training camp, and then there’s no way I can get to him.
And if that happens, all this will be in God’s hands.
“Please, Hunter, pick up,” I whisper, hoping that someone up above is listening to me.
Hunter
“Hit me again,” I tell the bartender and he fills my glass with the sweet amber liquid of the whiskey. “Just leave the fucking bottle, man,” I instruct the bartender and he pauses. One look at my smoldering eyes and he decides against questioning me.
My eyes are on fire. My soul is on fire. My heart is on fire.
No, I take that back. My heart is fucking dead. The world came and stomped on it. Kicked it in the fucking teeth.
No, I take that back again.
Not the world.
Natalie. And Logan.
My best friend. And the woman I love.
That’s fucking right. I said it. I fucking love her. I know it’s fucking stupid after the way she used me. Betrayed me. For her own fucking ends. Getting the Gazette it’s big fucking story. They both did.
And there will be consequences. For all of us. Sarah’s memory is about to be defiled. I start my training regimen tomorrow.
I start preparing for battle tomorrow. Against Logan.
I down my whiskey and the bartender doesn’t even get a chance to come near me before I reach out and take the bottle and pour another.
One gulp and it’s done. Pour another. Gulp. Another. Another.
The TV and the news has nothing but chatter about the fight even though it’s not for a while. But I don’t care. I don’t care about the purse. I don’t care about the glory.
All I want to do is take Logan and destroy him.
I want to break his face. I want to make sure that he never walks again. I want to break his spine. Ruin his pretty boy smile. Beat him into a pulp so hard that not even all his money will ever do anything to fix him.
I take a final gulp of my drink and wonder if I should call it a night. It's probably for the best. I begin my training tomorrow and I know that I'm going to need to focus. I haven't realized how much anger I'm feeling. Disappointment with Natalie. Spite for Logan. For what they did to me. For what they did to Sarah. For the ruining of our world.
For hate's sake, I take my last drink of whiskey.
"Hey there," a voice calls out and I turn. My eyes are hazy.
Is it Natalie?
My heart skips a beat.
But no, it's not.
It's a girl that a month ago I would have hit on immediately. She's got big tits. Slender body. Not an ounce of fat. An ass that you slap and watch it jiggle. Tight fucking dress. Slut. Ready to take that shit off and get down in a way that you will never forget. And then when the fun is over and you’ve cum all over her slutty little face and she's scooping it up and purring the kind that won't mind when you say you gotta get the fuck outta there and will actually take the cab fare you give because all she wanted was your cock in the first place. The kind of girl that I would bang at least five times a fucking week in the past. The kind of girl that makes my life worthwhile.
Although, now that I look at her I'm thinking what the fuck I ever really saw in this shit.
I don't feel an ounce of attraction for this woman at all.
I don't know why I would ever settle for anyone like her. I don't know how I sold myself so short.
She is absolutely nothing compared to Natalie. Natalie is a goddess compared to her. Fuck, Natalie is a fucking goddess compared to every other fucking girl alive on the planet. Nothing else would have done for me to bring me out of my ways. Nothing else was ever going to make me happy. Nothing else would ever come close.
Because now she's gone.
I don't know what the fuck I am going to do.
All I do know is that my life is over and there is only vengeance.
The phone rings as I get off my bar stool.
I look at it.
It's Natalie.
I could answer.
I could pick up.
Give her a chance to explain what she did. Ask her what she was thinking. Explain how much it hurt me.
But she would just hurt me again.
She would find something else in my life and take it. Give it to Logan. Who would use it to crush me.
Because if you think I fucking hate Logan, you can be fucking sure that he hates me just as much.
There's no denying this shit.
He will destroy me.
And both he and Natalie will use whatever they can to take me out. That's just the way the world works I think. The woman you love ends up being the one who brings you down.
I look at my phone and decide that if I go down this route and pick up the call that means giving up the hate that I hold in my heart.
I'm happy to do that. I want to do that. Nothing would make me happier.
But I don't know if Logan will ever get rid of the hate in his heart.
He will instead look to find ways to destroy me.
And he's going to use every fucking tool he's got.
Including Natalie.
No, the time for idle talk is over.
It's time to prepare myself and my body. To center my mind.
For war.
I hit IGNORE on the phone and put it in my pocket. I walk out of the bar and into the cool New York night.
It's time to fight. And to destroy the enemies that stand in my path.
Because my life is over in every other regard. It's just a matter of how many people I can take with me at this point.
Logan
There's a frantic knock on my door.
"Coming!" I shout. I'm not expecting anyone. Who the hell is it?
The knocking continues in rapid succession.
I unlock the door, swing it open, and to my surprise, it's Natalie.
"What are you doing here?"
She seems out of breath.
"I'm so glad you're home," she says, wrapping her arms around me in a hug. "I need to tell you something. It's important. You can't fight Hunter."
"It's too late for that. The fight is happening."
"No," she says, shaking her head. "You don't understand."
"What's there to understand?"
"Can I come in? This is going to take a few minutes."
"Of course," I say, leading her into my apartment.
Clearly, there's something bothering her, but at this point, I have no idea what. She's usually so calm and composed. This is out of character for her.
Before I can close the door, Natalie is spilling the news to me.
"It's Fat Ed," she says.
"What about him?"
"He blackmailed me. He's the reason this fight is even happening. He found a recording that I made of our interviews and he listened to them. And in those recordings was documented everything that happened during that night. He never should've had access to that. I threw it away, and he went through my trash and dug it out behind my back. But he thought since I've grown close to both of you that I'd go along with this. However, he's wrong. I can't. I'd never. But now that we know the truth, you and Hunter can't go forward with this fight."
I watch her, completely taken aback. Emotion is surging in her eyes, and she's on the verge of tears.
"There's nothing we can do," I say, and it's true. "Hunter isn't willing to talk to either of us, and unfortunately, the deal has been signed. This fight is going to happen."
A tear zigzags down her cheek and she wipes is away. I can tell this is not the news she came to hear.
"It's my fault; if it wasn't for my recording, we wouldn't be in this situation. I should've properly destroyed the recordings. I wasn't thinking," she says.
"Shhh, it's okay," I say, embracing her. "Don't beat yourself up over this. It's not your fault."
She looks up at me, and I'm overwhelmed by the sincerity in her eyes. With the back of my hand, I rub her cheek tenderly, and as our eyes are locked on one another I say, "I love you."
I wasn't expecting those words to tumble out of my mouth. It wasn't something I planned, but they emerged from a place of honesty. For a minute, my heart beats fast with the vulnerability I'm now feeling.
What if she doesn't feel the same way? I've just served my heart on a platter. What if she sticks a knife in it?
But that's not what happens. She wraps her arms around my shoulders, stands up on her tiptoes, and presses her lips to mine.
Then, holding my gaze she says, "I love you too."
Her reciprocation causes a cocktail of emotions to course through my veins, but it's now mostly a mixture of desire and need.
I'm angry at Fat Ed—there's no doubt about that—but with Natalie here in my arms, I also feel lucky, like I've won something bigger than any of this.
And my cock is throbbing.
I want Natalie, and I want her now.
“Let's forget about Ed,” I say, my eyes locked on hers. I place my hands on her hips, the dress she's wearing bunching around her waist as I pull her into me. I breathe in her scent—rose and vanilla. And then I place two fingers under her chin, bringing her mouth closer to mine. She doesn't resist. I press my mouth to hers. The contact makes my cock twitch. A jolt of pleasure surges in me, and I pin her against the wall, pressing my body into hers.
"You feel so good," she breathes out.
I move my hands from her waist down to her ass and I give it a firm squeeze. An animalistic need surges through me.
"Let's take this off," I growl, grabbing her dress and pulling it over her head. She helps by raising her arms, allowing it to come off easily. Once off, she unclasps her bra and I watch as it falls to the floor.
Now she's standing in front of me, completely naked and exposed. Her breasts are the best I've ever seen—two perfect scoops of vanilla.
"You're perfect," I growl. I've never been so hungry for a woman in all my life. I pull her to me and lift her into my arms. As I do this, she laces her legs around my hips. Her skin is so soft as we kiss again. She nibbles my lower lip playfully, her teeth pulling on it gently.
Then she rakes her nails through my hair and the way she does this sends a shiver down my spine. I move my lips move from her mouth down to her neck, savoring every inch of her skin. Without letting her go, we walk to the leather couch and I place her on it.
I sit down beside her and she smiles, "My turn." As she says this, she climbs on top of me, straddling my waist. She's grinding her pussy on my cock, and I can feel it swell and harden beneath her.
"Someone's eager," she purrs, grinding harder on my cock. Then she leans down and bites my neck playfully before moving her fingers to the buttons on my shirt.
"Let's take this off," she smiles.
I can't help but look at her tits s she does this. My eyes survey her body and I reach over, giving both of her tits a squeeze in my hands.
“I need you right now,” I growl. “From the moment I saw you, I knew you were different. You're the only woman in the fucking world that I want.”
“Take me,” she whispers, and the way the words fall from her lips like a gentle breeze brings out my animalistic hunger for her. My brain is completely submerged under primal desires.
She slides my shirt off, and then drags her fingers up the nape of my neck, and through my hair. I do the same, reaching my hand through her hair, but this time, I yank it, forcing her head back.
“How bad do you want me, Natalie? How bad do you want my cock buried inside of you?” I growl. "Tell me."
“I'm here, aren't I?” she says, the corners of her mouth curling into a smile. I yank harder on her hair and she gasps.
I slowly let go of her hair, my fingers sliding down her neck, and I lift her from my lap and push her down on the leather of the couch. I place my body over hers, and the dominance I'm exerting makes me cock even harder. With my shirt off, I watch her eyes wander down my chest and abs … and further down to the bulging shape of my cock. A cock that I can't wait to bury in her.
I hook my fingers in her black thong and I pull it down her smooth legs. With the thong off, her pussy is now in plain view.
I’m so wet … oh God I'm wet for you," she moans.
“Good girl,” I say, but I barely manage to get the words out because my cock is throbbing. Her nipples harden in anticipation of my touch, and I bring my mouth to her breast, sucking her nipple into my mouth. She squirms beneath me, her hips grinding into the couch. She gasps, and I have one, blinding need right now, and it's her pussy.
I place my mouth on her collarbone and she shivers under my touch. She's rocking her hips from side to side, trying to taunt my cock from my pants.
“How badly do you want me to fuck you?” I say.
“Yes…now, please," she whispers, her desire reduced to a few words.
“Take my belt off,” I growl. I grab her hands and place them on the buckle. Her fingers tremble as she slowly removes the leather from the loops. Once my belt is unbuckled, she moves to my pants, unbuckling them and pulling my zipper down with a one quick, metallic zing. She places her fingers on the waistband of my boxer briefs and then tugs them down my waist and hips.
&n
bsp; My hard cock jumps into sight and without hesitation, she curls her fingers around my pulsing shaft.
"Oh fuck," I groan.
She doesn't waste any time, and moves her fingers down my hard shaft, tracing it from root to tip. As she reaches the tip, a hint of precum leaks from my throbbing head. Can one woman have a better touch than Natalie? It seems impossible.
“I want your mouth," I say, and I don't need to say it twice.
She parts her lips and slowly rolls them down my cock until I feel my tip push against the back of her throat. I close my eyes as she slides my shaft deep inside her mouth. She has to open her mouth wide, just to accommodate my cock.
"Oh fuck," I moan, "yes." My cock is pulsing inside of her mouth.
She pushes her mouth down until her lips meet the base of my cock, and then she pulls back, taking in much-needed air.
She dives back in, moving up and down my shaft, bobbing her head back and forth as she twirls her tongue around my tip. She's making slow, deliberate movements, teasing my cock with her mouth. Then, with one hand, she grabs my balls, rolling them between her fingers.
She kisses my shaft until her mouth reaches my balls. She sucks one in, rolling it around her mouth.
“I want your fucking pussy,” I growl.
"If you want it, take it," she says, as if it's a dare.
I push her down on the couch, one hand sliding down her stomach and landing between her thighs. She spreads her legs, revealing her pussy to me.
I place one hand against her pussy, and she opens her mouth as a soft moan escapes her lips.
I slide one finger inside of her pussy, moving it in and hooking it upward until I'm knuckle deep. I move my fingers back and forth, pressing my thumb against her clit and moving it in quick circles. With my other hand, I reach up and squeeze one of her breasts.
I pinch her nipple, rolling it between my thumb and finger as my other hand keeps ravaging her pussy.
She arches her back, wriggling under my touch, and she curls her toes and grabs at the leather of the couch. A whirlwind of desire clouds my mind. I slide a second finger into her pussy and press down on her clit with a newfound energy.
