Hard & Deep: A Football Romance

She cut him off. "If you want me, ever, you'll leave this woman at the restaurant and walk out the door with me. This is a one-time offer."

For a moment, he seemed taken aback. He was a billionaire, and clearly not used to being talked to this way. There was a flicker in his eyes. She could tell that, for a moment, he almost came back with an angry response. Tracy almost lost her nerve right then.

But then, he took a look down her body, nodded his head and stood up without a word. As they quickly walked to the exit, he put his strong hand on her back, guiding her past the line of people at the door. The sensation sent a tingle down her spine, and she knew that this was going to be an experience she'd never forget.

Luckily, thought Tracy as they stepped into the warm summer evening, the only employee who saw us leave was the doorman. When the bimbo came back from the bathroom, and when her manager found out she had walked out on a Friday before her shift ended, there would be hell to pay. This was going to be worth it, though.

When they got to the black sedan, Mr. Hayes opened the back door. He just stood there, waiting for her to go in. Tracy peered inside and saw no driver in the car. He thinks he's just going to fuck me in his car, then go back to his date, she thought. She managed not to lose her temper. Instead, she said, "Wait until we get home."

For a moment, his expression wavered. Tracy realized she hadn't been as forceful as she had been in the restaurant. "Am I wasting my time?" Tracy asked, her heart fluttering.

Mr. Hayes' eyes went wide. "No, definitely not. I just thought you might have wanted to go back to work tonight."

Tracy shrugged her shoulders and stood there. Mr. Hayes nodded and closed the back door. He opened the front passenger door for her and got in the driver's seat himself.

"I would have thought a guy like you would have had a chauffeur," she said.

"No, I prefer driving myself. I like to drive and I hate to be the passenger," he said. It told her all she needed to know. He had to be in control because no one else would do it right. The dream was a psychic link, of that there could be almost no doubt.

That didn't fix her nerves completely, but it did help.

As they pulled out of the parking lot, he put his hand on her knee. It practically sent an electric shock through her body, as his powerful hand began to massage her leg. He wasn't going to get much of a feel through the pants of her waitress outfit, but she ought to set the record straight right away.

"Mr. Hayes..." she started.

"Please, call me Paul."

"Mr. Hayes," she said again. "I know what it is you want."

"I think we both have a pretty good idea of what, or who, I want," he said. He took his eyes off the road, looking her body up and down again.

The way he said it gave her pause. I could have sex with him right here in the parking lot, just for my own enjoyment, she thought. She quickly shook that thought away. She was a woman on a mission, and no sweet talker could dissuade her from it. As he pulled out of the restaurant,

his hand strayed up her blouse, toward her breast, and she caught it and held it there against her body.

"I know what it is you want," she repeated. "But what's more important is what I want."

"Is that right?" he asked, almost a little mockingly. "I think you want the same thing I want, anyway."

Tracy knew she couldn't let his sexy confidence, his ego, his cockiness rattle her. She had to remain in control of her libido, as hard as it was. "Maybe, maybe not. I guess we'll have to see when we get to your house," she teased. She pushed his hand away,. Keep yourself under control, girl. You’ve got to pull this off.

When she first saw his mansion, she almost whistled. It was at least twice as big as she would have guessed, and was located right on the beach. It had to be a ten million dollar house. He parked the car in the garage, and they went inside.

The butler was waiting for him. So, I guess he does have some people that do things for him, she thought. He didn't seem too surprised to see Mr. Hayes with a different woman than the one he left with, but he probably saw a lot of that while working here. He said a quick greeting and then disappeared.

Paul and Tracy went upstairs. The bedroom was at the end of a long hallway, and Tracy made sure to remember how to get back out the main door.

When he opened the door to the bedroom, she had her confirmation that their connection was no hallucination. It was, more or less, the same bedroom as the one in the dream. The big bed was definitely the same, and the giant brass headboard. Every detail looked like she remembered.

Once inside the bedroom, Mr. Hayes turned to Tracy. He wastes no time, she thought. She knew she had to give him something, so she let him take her in his arms. He kissed her, and she kissed back hungrily, feeling the lust grow within her.

They made out for about a minute, while her brain went crazy with desire. Both the devil on one shoulder and the angel on the other shoulder were giving her mixed signals, at times telling her to give in, at others telling her to flee with her dignity intact. Finally, her brain overrode her clitoris, and she pulled away from him. She stepped away from him, and he looked her up and down.

"Get on the bed and take off your clothes. I have a little show for you," she said.

"I've got a better idea," he started as he walked towards her. He put his hands back around her waist. "I’ve got a bottle of wine just waiting to be uncorked. Why don't we-"

She cut him off. She made her voice as stern as she could manage. "Mr. Hayes, remember what I said. It's more important for me to get what I want. Get on the bed. You'll enjoy the show, I promise."