Off the Record (Off 3) - Page 5

"I doubt it," I respond dryly.

We reach the party which is still in full swing, and will be until late into the night. I turn to her before we part ways. "Stay and hang as long as you like. We're going to have fireworks later when it gets dark."

"Thanks. And thanks again for the interview."

I don't know why I do it, but something causes me to lean down and give her a quick hug. I can't help but notice she smells divine...like strawberries and vanilla. "No problem. Any friend of Emily's is a friend of mine."

I turn to walk away then I hear, "Hey, Linc."

Turning around, she's looking at me with mischief in her eyes. "I forgot to ask, where did you get that scar on your chin?"

I smile at her. "Off the record?"

"Sure."

"An irate lady threw a shoe at me and split my chin open. Needed five stitches."

"Are you serious?"

"I told you it was off the record, right? You judge if I'm serious or not."

Her laughter follows me as I melt into the crowd.

Oh, wow, Linc Caldwell is a handful. I know I'm new into this career, but I've done my share of interviews while I interned at The Post last summer. And this was a great interview. He was open, engaging and down to earth. So not what I was expecting.

And he has got to be one of the most gorgeous men I've ever seen up close. I'm talking major panty dropper! When he asked me out, I was stunned and flushed with pleasure, all at the same time. There is no way someone like him could ever be attracted to someone like me. I'm too short, too pale and my eyes are way too big. Besides, I just got out of a relationship that was built on lies and deception. I'm not about to jump back into that mess.

Still...it was just dinner and he seemed genuinely interested in me. While my brain tells me I shouldn't be swayed by something like that, I suppose there is still a little part of me that is enticed by the idea of a man being interested in me. I wonder if I should have accepted. I was leaving on Monday evening for Los Angeles but maybe we would have had time to go out before then.

I mentally shrug my shoulders. No use worrying about it now. What's done is done.

Emily and I are ready to leave. We stayed until the fireworks, which were spectacular. Emily is kissing Nix goodbye, which looks like it could take a while, so I tell her I'm going to use the bathroom. She directs me up to Linc's condo and tells me I could use the guest bathroom or the one in his bedroom.

While I would love nothing more than to get a gander at Linc's bedroom, my manners push me toward the bathroom at the end of the hallway. I knock on the door and hear, "Be out in just a minute."

I lean back against the wall and wait. And as I wait, I can hear voices from inside of the bathroom. It doesn't take long for me to figure out there are two women in there together. They are talking and laughing. Their conversation comes through loudly and I find it amusing because they're discussing Linc.

"Linc Caldwell is just so fine. There isn't anything I wouldn't do to have a go at him."

I snicker to myself.

Another voice chimes in. "I know. I'd drop down on my knees right now and give him a blow job if he asked for one."

My cheeks heat up over that, and to my mortification, a fleeting image of me doing that to Linc flits through my head and my mouth actually waters. Oh my gosh, what is wrong with me?

I'm surprised when I hear a third voice jump into the conversation. Seriously, why do three women need to go to the bathroom together? The third woman says, "You're too late, ladies. I already gave Linc a blow job just a bit ago. He'll be satisfied for a while."

One of the other women says, "No way. You're lying."

"No I'm not. While you two were busy wasting your time talking to some boring hockey wives, I propositioned Linc down at the gazebo. He was only too happy to accept and let me tell you, he was delicious. He'll be calling me, I'm sure."

The women all start screaming and tittering in excitement that one of them has made head-way with Linc. No pun intended.

My stomach flips and starts to burn at the thought of some woman giving Linc a blow job not but a few hours after he asked me out to dinner. My skin actually crawls imagining it. Not wanting to hear anymore, I decide to use the bathroom in Linc's bedroom.

I head to a door that is partially opened with soft light coming out. I assume that is the master bedroom. Just as I get to the doorway, I look in and see two people kissing.

No, kissing it's exactly right. The woman has her back against the wall. The man is standing in front of her, kissing her neck. Her arms are raised above her head and he has them pinned to the wall with one hand. I can feel the redness creeping up my neck when I notice where his other hand is. He has it under her short skirt and buried between her legs. The woman has her head thrown back and her eyes closed, soft moans coming out of her mouth. The man is softly kissing her neck while his hand moves against her.

I'm just about to turn away in embarrassment when I notice the man is wearing khaki shorts and a white t-shirt. Holy shit, it's Linc.

I stumble backward from the doorway and spin around. Molten anger wells up inside of me and flashes brutally hot. All in one night, Linc asks me out on a date, gets a blow job from a stranger, and now it looks like he's getting ready to bang some other woman.

Only one thing comes to my mind, and it practically screams at me...Linc Caldwell is the scummiest man-whore I've ever met.

I immediately think of Marc. Images of him and Kelli screwing on my bed flood my brain and I taste bile in the back of my mouth. What is it with men?

How did I miss Linc's sliminess? He seemed so down to earth when we were talking. So genuine. He seemed interested in me, and that made me feel nice, particularly coming from someone as hot, rich and famous as Linc Caldwell.

As I wonder what in the hell is wrong with men, I also wonder what in the hell is wrong with me that I keep opening myself up to pretty words that fall from men's mouths?

I leave the condo as my fury continues to build. I'm ashamed of myself that I could be fooled by someone like Linc. I should have known better, particularly after what Marc did to me. After what my father did to me and my mother. Plain and simple, men are not to be trusted. When am I going to finally learn that lesson?

All of the embarrassment, pain and humiliation I've seemed to have taken from men weighs heavily on me. It's suffocating and I need something to relieve it. I cannot wait to get home and write this article.

I'm sitting at my desk, my laptop screen glowing brightly. I take a sip of the chai tea I had made for myself and think about what to write. My anger has diminished a bit but in its place is an unquenchable thirst for vengeance.

The folder that Linc's agent gave me lies on the desk. I consider opening it up and flipping through it but I immediat

ely give up on this idea. If I'm going to write an article about the true nature of Linc Caldwell, I need to be fully committed. No...this will not be a fluffy lifestyle piece that focuses on Linc's charitable works or what styling product he uses for his hair. This will have a bit more grit to it.

I know it's probably going to piss off some Rangers fans, but there are plenty of Islanders and Devils fans that will get a kick out of this.

I smile to myself in glee. Luckily, the lifestyle editor is a bit of a rebel herself and she'll relish a spicy piece to put in the paper.

I start to type...

RANGERS' GOALIE SCORES...A LOT!

By: Ever Montgomery

Yes, goalies can score!

Line up, ladies. Apparently Linc Caldwell, the New York Rangers' star goalie, can be yours for the low, low price of a few flirtatious words or a low cut dress. And this offer doesn't seem to have an expiration date or a limitation to how much you can have.

You see, I had the pleasure of Mr. Caldwell's company the other night to write a lifestyle piece on him. Instead, I was treated to a bit more than I really wanted to see.

Just a few minutes before meeting me, I watched as Mr. Caldwell kissed on a half-naked woman. Then just a mere half hour into our interview, he had the temerity to hit on me, which I politely shut down. Not to be deterred, he moved on to a third woman who claims they got pretty down and dirty with one another. I finally witnessed him finishing off the night with a fourth woman in a very compromising position.

Now, I know Mr. Caldwell is one of the NHL's finest hockey players, and this opinion piece offers no assessment of his hockey abilities. I'll leave that to our esteemed sports writers.

But for those of you who want to know the man behind the mask, don't bother looking too hard. It's quite a shallow pool you'd be gazing into.

When I asked Mr. Caldwell how he got so many dates, he proudly said all he had to do was flash his washboard abs and huge bank account, and the women just flock to him. I'm sorry, Mr. Caldwell...but some women do need more than muscles and money to make them happy.

I almost, at one point, felt sorry for Mr. Caldwell. I imagine his life of meaningless sex and one-night stands has got to leave a man feeling somewhat empty. But that sympathy was quickly diminished when he even admitted to pissing a woman off so bad, she threw a shoe at him, causing that renowned and much discussed scar on his chin. It seems the scoundrel doesn't learn from his mistakes.

Tags: Sawyer Bennett Off Romance
Source: readsnovelonline.net
readsnovelonline.net Copyright 2016 - 2024