Super Big Game - An Enemies to Lovers Sports Romance

“I did,” I tell him, shaking my head to snap myself back to this room. “Quite honestly, I’m flattered. But how would that work? Wouldn’t there be reporters lurking in bushes and…”

“Darling, it’s cute that you don’t know this, but I’m a billionaire and we don’t have to worry about staying local,” he says. “Maybe if we did, that would be true. But I have a private plane. We can go anywhere we want.”

My jaw drops and I blink my eyes several times, each time telling myself to stop, but not being able to.

“Yep,” he says, as if my eye-blinking was a question instead of an involuntary physical reaction to the bombshells he continues to drop on me. “I’ve invested my money well. There’s a guy who helps us set up accounts so we don’t blow it all. But I still like to blow a big portion of it. And I’d love to do that on you.”

Now it’s his turn to look shocked, at his own accidental double entendre. He raises his eyebrows playfully, as if he’d meant it to come out that way, but I really don’t think he had. For some reason, he was just being sweet and saying he’d like to spend money on having a good time with me.

I guess I’m not used to this. I keep wondering if it’s a trap. I wish I could get my mom’s voice out of my damn head.

“So, what do you say?” he asks. “We can fly anywhere you want. You have a passport, right?”

“Yeah,” I stammer, never so glad to have studied for a semester abroad and therefore to have everything I need in place to be jetsetter off in a whirlwind romance. “Somewhere.”

Despite my type A personality at work, I’m not the most organized person at home. Hopefully I can find it with my college books I’ve never bothered to unpack once I landed my journalism degree – I wasn’t a huge fan of school and was glad to be out hustling in the real world.

I didn’t think I’d have time for foreign vacations, but it turns out that I’m wrong. Apparently, that’s what’s considered a normal date to these football players.

“Okay, then, let’s do it,” he says. “And in exchange, I’ll give you that interview.”

He acts like only one of these things would be doing me a favor. Summoning the power of Monica, I decide to act as if that’s true.

“You’ve got yourself a deal,” I tell him.

“Let’s seal it with a kiss,” he declares triumphantly.

“We really shouldn’t…” I start to say, but he grabs me and pulls me closer to him.

His tongue is in my mouth before I can finish my sentence, but it’s clearly too late. I’m done with that train of thought and I don’t want to stop him.

Sure, someone could walk in any minute. But what’s one more minute, when we’ve already been sneaking around in here for so many of them by now?

I give in to pure passion and instinct as his tongue loops around mine. For a few seconds, it’s absolute bliss, until he breaks away, leaving my mouth feeling empty of the kiss he was just giving me while my pussy feels aching and wet for him.

“I know, I know, I should get out of here,” he says, as he goes towards the door. “Thanks for the nice talk though.”

He winks at me, and I say, “if that’s what you want to call it.”

Our lips were certainly talking to each other, that’s for sure, I think.

Almost as soon as he’s out the door, there’s another knock on it. Assuming it has to be him, and preparing myself to be stern and tell him we can’t possibly have one more kiss, yet already knowing I’m going to break that rule, I swing the door back open with a big smile on my face.

It’s a smile that quickly fades when I see Kirsten on the other side of the door.

“Stacy,” she says, the “t” sounding like a crisp staccato sound that makes me hate the sound of her voice even more than I normally do. “I was just stopping by to say congratulations on your big moment in the spotlight there.”

“Thank you,” I start to tell her, and I’m also about to tell her I was just on my way out.

But she’s inside the room in a flash, without even waiting for me to invite her and without asking if she can. Her arms are crossed over her chest and she’s looking all around. I’m sure she must have seen Elias in the hallway; this is almost the worst possible time ever.

At least she didn’t see him here in the room with me, though, although clearly she knows that he was, doesn’t she?

From the way she’s peering here and there in the prepping room, it’s as if she thinks he’s still in there.