Super Big Game - An Enemies to Lovers Sports Romance

“Hmmm,” she says, turning her head back around to face me. “Did you have a nice visit with Mr. Tucker in here?”

So, she does know he was in here. Maybe she’s looking for evidence of it, but for what? It’s almost like she’s a forensic analyst on a daytime TV drama. Perhaps she wants to snap a picture and sell it to rival presses, or blackmail me to leave my own. She always has wanted my job, and I know I’m stupid for providing myself with any opportunity to slip up. I should be able to resist Elias, but I’m not.

I can’t explain or even understand why, but the simple truth of the matter is that I’m simply not.

“I wondered why he would give you the starting question,” she says. “It’s beginning to make a little more sense now…”

“Is it?” I ask her, surprising myself with how bold my voice sounds.

I know she really has nothing on me, if all she saw was him walking down the hallway, away from the prepping room. These rooms are small and there are several others on either side of mine, so she might not even really know if he was here or not; she might just be bluffing.

Plus, even if she did see him come out, so what?

It’s not like we were kissing, or even hugging goodbye. Lots of players come give private interviews after the main press conference is over, or they might just drop by to say hello or provide much needed first hand confirmation to help fact check a proposed article, or even just to ask us to paint them in the best light when we showcase them, or try to persuade us not to run an unfavorable story.

Sure, that wouldn’t normally be happening right now, during a media blackout except for approved press conference such as the one that had just happened. But it’s not unheard of. There are plenty of innocent explanations for this, right?

Luckily it seems that Stacy has already moved onto something else.

“You always struck me as the innocent type,” Stacy says, tsking tsking her disapproval at me. “A virgin, even. You’ve never let anyone pop your cherry, just as you’ve never let anyone take the stick out of your ass.”

I bristle at this comment, but I guess I’ll let it slide, seeing how she did lose out big just a minute ago. I was the one who got to ask the question, no matter how much she bounced around and flirted, so I’m sure that didn’t go over well with her ego.

“Therefore, I don’t know how it is that you would go paling around with Elias Tucker. How exactly do you two know each other?” she demands.

It’s none of her business, but I’m afraid that if I say that to her, she’ll be suspicious.

I decide to punt, as the saying goes, and very appropriately, in this instance.

“I’m sorry, but I’m afraid I have to go,” I tell her, walking over to the desk that any of the reporters using this room share, and putting it into my purse. “It was nice chatting with you though, Kirsten.”

“Oh, don’t kid yourself into thinking I’m not going to expose you,” she says. “When I find out what’s up between you and Elias, it’ll be my main scoop that will propel me to journalism stardom.”

Wow, she sure has a huge ego, I think to myself, as I shrug and push past her on my out the door.

“Good night, Kirsten,” I say, telling myself to fake it ‘till I make it out the door.

My heart is racing and my palms are sweaty.

That was a close one. I need to stop being so stupid. I need to knock off this silly obsession I have with Elias Turner. But how?

But my pussy is still dripping wet and seems to be shouting out its own response.

No. Go on the date with him. Let him take your virginity, goddamn it.

For once in your life, do the thing you actually want to do!

Chapter 12

Elias

The next day, I’m poking around outside the Leviathans’ locker room, trying to find what I’d planned to come get, plus anything else I might happen to notice along the way. I’m not supposed to be here – we’re supposed to be resting up for the big game – but that’s why it was the best time to come.

I had promised Stacy I’d find out who tried to hurt her. And now I wanted to do that more than ever, so that I could smash that bastard’s head in.

I had always thought that Stacy Allen was not only a super smart rising reporter, but also that she was super hot. But now that I’ve held her in my arms and kissed her, I feel something else for her.

It’s not just my cock’s raging lust for her.