Hard Tackle: A Bad Boy Sports Romance (3 page)

“
S
ome of those
photos are borderline pornographic,” Gordon yelled at me down the phone. “I don’t know what kind of shit you were allowed to get away with in college, but this is professional football. Key word word being ‘professional.’ ”

“Listen, boss—” I began.

“Does it sound like I’m finished talking?” Gordon yelled even louder.

I vaguely remembered him speaking in a normal voice when I’d first signed for the team, but ever since then I’d only heard him communicate in degrees of yelling. I was starting to really wish I hadn’t come in for training today.

“This team has a reputation to maintain,” Gordon continued. “I do not want my players photographed in this way.”

It could have been worse. I’d been getting more and more drunk as the night went on, and if Kristi hadn’t shown up, I would have stuck my dick in those two girls, and probably a few more for good measure.

But Kristi had shown up, and even after she’d left, I couldn’t find it in me to carry on where I’d left off. I’d snuck out of my own party to go for a walk, but when I got home, I still had an insatiable urge to fuck. There were plenty of willing participants, but I hadn’t wanted any of them.

Kristi had left her mark on me. I told myself I only wanted her because I couldn’t have her, but there was more to it than that. I wanted her because she was beautiful. So were a lot of women, but Kristi had more to her than the rest of them combined. She’d resisted me. It was a feeling I hadn’t experienced for quite some time.

In the end, I’d kept my dick in my pants and stayed away from cell phones for the rest of the night. Not that the manager appreciated my efforts.

“It was just a bit of fun,” I pleaded to Gordon. He had been a pro footballer back in the day. Surely he remembered what it was like. He was just lucky not everyone carried cameras with them at the time.

“You’re not paid to have fun,” Gordon replied. “You’re paid to win.”

“And I will win.”

Gordon sighed, and this time he did make an effort to lower his voice as he spoke. “Listen, Barton, I get that you’ve been thrust into the limelight a little earlier than expected because of Milton’s injury, but you need to get with the program, and you need to do it quickly.”

“You said yourself, I’m paid to win. As long as I get the job done on the field, what’s the problem?”

“The problem is that I’m not going to allow my players to carry on like you do.”

“What are you implying?” I asked.

“I’m not implying anything. I’m telling you that if I see more pictures like those from last weekend, you will be dropped from the team.”

He was bluffing. He
had
to be bluffing. He couldn’t drop me. The team had already lost one quarterback, and the third choice wasn’t worth much. That’s why they’d picked me in the draft.

I opened my mouth to reply, but the look on Gordon’s face made it clear he wasn’t in the mood to hear my shit. I had five inches on Gordon, and he was soft around the waist now, but that man scared the hell out of me.

“I’ll do my best,” I replied.

“You’d better do more than that. I spoke to your agent the other day and he said you were hiring a team to help with your image. What happened to them?”

“Um, I think they quit.”

“Why did they… you know what, I don’t want to know. Either get them to work for you, or hire someone else. Either way, you need to improve your image.”

I didn’t need to ‘improve’ my image, I needed to clean it up. My sponsors were more than happy with my current escapades. If I made the news while wearing their gear, they didn’t give a shit if I happened to have a tit in my mouth at the time.

Unfortunately my team didn’t share that attitude. I’d heard rumors that the new owner and the manager were both respectable types, but I’d never imagined they’d try and control my life outside of work. Perhaps I’d been naive, but I was the most highly sought-after player in the draft. Every team in the NFL wanted me. What was it they said about supply and demand? The more demand for a player, the greater the supply of pussy? Something like that. Gordon should be grateful I even bothered to go to training instead of staying at home and getting my dick sucked.

“I’ll work on it,” I promised reluctantly.

“You do that,” Gordon replied. “If you don’t, you’re off the team.”

“
D
o
you have any idea what it’s like to see pictures of your brother sucking a woman’s tit while you’re trying to eat breakfast?”

I shouldn’t have answered the phone.
“Hi, sis, how’re you?”

“Just trying not to vomit.”

“You could just not look at the photos,” I suggested.

I knew where this conversation was heading. There would be another lecture about behaving like an adult, and not wasting this opportunity to make a name for myself. Depending on May’s mood, I might also get to hear about the benefits of being in a loving relationship, like she was with Lance. May couldn’t get it into her head that not everyone was lucky enough to fall in love with and marry the first person they met.

“I don’t do it on purpose,” May replied. “My friends think it’s hilarious to tag me in the pictures so that I have to see them. Can’t you just keep your clothes on and perhaps leave the nipple biting for the bedroom?”

“You sound just like my coach.”

“Gordon has seen them?”

“Yep. Gave me the speech at training this morning.”

“You have to be careful, Barton. Gordon won’t take this kind of crap. He has a reputation.”

“I know, I know. I’ve hired a firm to keep the bad stuff off the internet.” I neglected to mention that Kristi had already quit. There was still time to fix that.

“Christ, that’s going to cost you a fortune, especially if you carry on like this.”

“Were you
born
old?” I asked. “I seem to recall childhood pictures of us from the days when you used to have fun, but perhaps I was imagining them.”

“I have plenty of fun,” May insisted. “It just happens that my idea of fun isn’t getting wasted and fucking loads of different people.”

“I can’t help it if I have a high sex drive, sis.”

“Just because I’m married, doesn’t mean I don’t have a good sex life. You want me to tell you what I got up to with Lance last night after the kids went to bed?”

“Binge watched
House of Cards,
knowing you two.”

“Actually, Lance used those handcuffs we bought for Halloween last year and—”

“Alright, alright, I get your point. Look, if you must know, I ended up behaving myself this weekend. Didn’t get any action at all.”

Tugged myself off a few times while thinking about Kristi though.
It was no substitute for the real thing, but I had to blow off some steam one way or the other.

“I don’t care if you have sex, I just want you to be careful, and for it not to end up online. You
are
being careful, right?”

“Always am. Wouldn’t want to end up with any kids running around. Not if your little brats are anything to go by.”

“Those little brats are your niece and nephew, Barton.”

“They’re a nightmare.”

“They’re a handful,” May admitted. “Alright, they’re little brats, but don’t tell them I said that. Now, if you do want to be a grown-up and go on an actual date, I know a nice young woman who would like to meet you. She’s an accountant at Lance’s company and—”

“No, thank you,” I replied immediately. “I don’t do the boring office types.”

Not unless they looked like Kristi.
I’d thought about her most of the weekend. Would I have been so obsessed by her if she hadn’t stood out so much among all the bikini babes at the party? What if I’d just passed her on the street. Would I have noticed her?

Yeah, damn straight I would have.

She had looked tantalizing in the tight skirt and blouse, but she’d look a hell of a lot better naked on my bed. All weekend I’d been thinking about how I could have handled it differently. What if I’d turned off the music and told everyone to go home? Would she have stayed then? Maybe. It would’ve pissed off a few mates who got their dicks wet that night, but she’d have been worth it.

“Don’t say I didn’t offer,” May replied. “You promise to keep tits out of your mouth for the time being?”

“I promise not to get pictured with a tit in my mouth. How’s that?”

“It’ll do,” May said with a heavy note of resignation.

I’d now promised my manager and my sister that I would work on my public image. Those two people had the ability to make my life a living hell, so I’d better at least try.

My agent could probably hire another firm, but I didn’t want any old idiot looking after my image. I wanted Kristi. Her brief appearance at the party had kept me pussy-free for three days now, and I hadn’t done that to impress my manager.

If I was going to take orders from someone, it might as well be from someone who looked damn good with the strict teacher vibe. Now I just had to convince Kristi that I was worth the effort. That might be tougher than breaking into the team.

I
nitially
, I had a straightforward lie prepared for my boss. The simple ones were always the best. I planned to tell her that Barton wasn’t at the party, so I’d left and gone home.

Unfortunately, the lie expanded as I thought it through. I knew Barton or his agent might get in touch with the firm, and admit we had met. That was an easy way for me to get caught out in a lie, so I had to tell Leona I’d met him. Somehow, in expanding the lie, I ended up arriving back at the truth, or at least something closely resembling it.

The meeting had been a disaster, but somehow it had worked. Sort of. No more pictures of Barton appeared that night, so it looked like I’d done my job. I knew that Barton had still fooled around with women, but he’d obviously been careful. I tried not to think about it too much.

“So you met with him and explained who you were, but then you left him alone?” Leona asked, after I had finished recounting my only slightly false version of events.

“Barton was adamant he didn’t want our help,” I said. “I did my best, but in the end he practically kicked me out of the apartment.”

“Practically? I don’t care if he picked you up and threw you like a football. It was your job to stay on him that night. You can’t leave someone like that on their own.”

The first time Leona had yelled at me in her office, I’d held back the tears just long enough to make it to the bathroom where I proceeded to bawl like a baby for half an hour. Now, I expected the screams, and just took it on the chin like everyone else.

If I wanted to work in a place like this after college—and I was far from certain about that—I would have to get used to taking verbal abuse.

“He fired us,” I replied. “Said he didn’t need a babysitter. I figured you wouldn’t want me to stay there and work if we weren’t getting paid for it.”

Not that
I’m
getting paid for any of this bullshit.

I’d read up on the California rules for interns, and basically if you did anything of benefit to the employer then you should be getting paid. If this job didn’t work out, I could at least sue for a summer’s worth of wages. That might pay off about one percent of my student loans. Maybe.

Leona considered my response and calmed down. A bit. “Barton is one of the most important clients this firm has had in quite some time. He’s not paying us that much now, but if he wins a Super Bowl—which he likely will—he’s going to provide a nice little pension for some of the partners here.”

“I appreciate that,” I replied. “I’m sure if we send a big team of our best people to meet with Barton, he’ll change his mind.”

Hopefully my tone and body language conveyed the additional words ‘the big team absolutely, positively should not include me.’

“He’s your client for the time being,” Leona insisted.

“What? But I’m just an intern.”

I’d gotten used to Leona shouting, but I couldn’t get used to the feeling of being in way over my head. How was I supposed to manage a client like Barton? In addition to being an intern with no experience, I also hated the very sight of Barton. He was everything I detested in a man. He was like one of Tasha’s hookups turned up to eleven.

“That’s the point,” Leona replied. “Your inexperience is useful here.”

I frowned, and tried to portray mild confusion, as opposed to blinding panic. Was she really suggesting I look after one of the firm’s most important clients? That made no sense. As Leona had reminded me on a number of occasions, I couldn’t even be trusted to make the coffee, let alone anything else.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

Leona opened her mouth to reply, but then seemed to reconsider. “Doesn’t matter. Perhaps you’re right. You might not be the best person for this. I’ll have Jessie work on it.”

For a brief moment, I felt high with relief. Then a pang of jealousy kicked in. Jessie was another intern, and even worse than me at making coffee. She was also completely Barton’s type. Blonde hair, slim waist, impossibly big boobs, bubbly personality. I hated her as much as all the men loved her.

Barton would definitely take instructions from Jessie, and no doubt they’d both end up screwing the summer away.

Not that I cared. He could screw whoever he wanted. It just didn’t seem fair that Jessie could get to the top based on her looks.

Bloody hell, Kristi, calm down. You don’t even want the damn job.

It still seemed odd that an intern would be handling such an important client. Then I figured it out. The firm wanted to charm Barton by sending pretty women his way. Not that I was particularly pretty—which was why it hadn’t worked. Leona was literally pimping out the interns, hoping to snare a new client. Starting back at school suddenly seemed enticing.

“What would you like me to work on instead?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” Leona replied, already flicking through emails on her phone. “Make me a coffee, and then go bug someone else. I’m sure there’s some photocopying for you to do.”

I nodded and stood up to leave just as there was a knock at Leona’s office door.

“What is it?” she asked, without looking up from her phone.

“Barton Fenner is downstairs in a meeting room,” Jonas said.

Barton? He’s here. Oh shit, maybe he’s going to tell Leona that I bailed on him. Then I’d really be screwed.

“I’ll be right down,” Leona said quickly, before yelling out “Jessie” at the top of her—already loud—voice.

“Actually,” Jonas explained nervously, preparing himself for an earful from Leona, “he’s here to see Kristi.”

I
’m so not
ready for this. I’m wearing the exact same clothes I wore on Friday night, beer stain and all. It’s going to be obvious I’m an intern and not a professional.

Leona insisted on coming with me to the meeting. If Barton screwed me over, he would do it while I was sitting right next to my boss. This couldn’t get much more uncomfortable.

“Let me do the talking,” Leona instructed as we walked down the hall. “He probably only asked to speak to you because you’re the only contact he has. I’ll mention that you’re busy on another project and then introduce Jessie.”

“Fine with me,” I lied. The thought of Jessie spending the entire summer working closely with Barton had me on edge. She’d know how to keep the client happy, and for her troubles she’d get a pile of orgasms and a job offer at the end of her internship while I would be thrown back on the scrap heap.

I flattened my skirt and tidied up my blouse before walking into the room. This was my last chance to look like an adult, and not a silly intern.

Barton sat at the far end of the table in a tight t-shirt that struggled to stretch over his large biceps. He’d made himself at home, resting his feet on another chair while he relaxed back and played with his phone.

“Mr. Fenner, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” Leona said cheerfully, putting on her ‘client voice.’

Barton looked up from his phone and stared straight past Leona to me. I held his gaze and moved up to stand next to Leona—I wanted to look like her equal and not like a timid college intern.

“Who are you?” Barton asked, flicking his attention to Leona.

“My name’s Leona. I’m a senior associate here at—”

“Nice to meet you, Leona. Now, please leave me with Kristi. The two of us have a lot of work to do. Lots of
hard
,
brutal
work.”

Leona briefly looked taken aback, but quickly regained her composure. “Kristi is busy on another project at the moment, but we have plenty of other staff who would be happy to work with you. In fact, there’s another intern who would be a great fit.”

Barton looked back at me and just stared. Silence filled the room, as I resisted the urge to move my hair away from my face. I knew it was a nervous tick, and Barton would spot it a mile away.

“I want Kristi,” he said firmly, still looking at me. “She did a brilliant job for me on Friday night and saved me from a lot of embarrassment. Give me Kristi, or I walk.”

Leona hesitated. She wanted to argue. Arguing was in her blood. Eventually, she forced a smile nodded. “Very well, Mr. Fenner. I’ll leave you in Kristi’s capable hands.”

She turned and walked out, but not before giving me a ’don’t fuck this up’ look.

The second the door had shut, Barton broke out into a big victory grin. I hated that he’d gotten his own way once again, even though it did at least mean I’d gone up in Leona’s estimations. Now I just had to find a way to not fuck this up.

I took a seat opposite Barton, and folded my arms across my chest. “Why are you here?” I asked.

“Because I need your help,” Barton replied.

“There are plenty of other people here who can help you.”

“Ah yes, the ‘other’ intern. You never told me you were an intern.”

“You never asked. And trust me, you’ll like Jessie. She’s your type.”

“What’s my type, exactly?” Barton asked.

I thought back to the women I’d seen flocking around Barton Friday night and in the photos. To give him some credit, he certainly didn’t discriminate. Barton was an equal opportunity sleazebag.

“Easy women,” I replied.

“I’m offended,” Barton replied, clearly not offended. “I’ll have you know, I quite enjoy a challenge.”

“No you don’t. You might think you do, but eventually you’ll get bored of me rejecting you and you’ll wander off to the nearest available woman.”

“What makes you think I was talking about you?”

I pursed my lips and frowned, but Barton didn’t look in the least bit perturbed. “I was just giving an example.”

“It’s okay, I
was
talking about you. But I don’t think you’ll prove to be that much of a challenge. It would take no more than two weeks. The real challenge would be having you in this office, right here, right now.”

“You’re not ‘having me’
anywhere. I can’t sleep with clients.”

Shit, Kristi, that wasn’t the right thing to say. It just slipped out.
The correct response would have been ‘I don’t sleep with assholes who would rather look at their own reflection than me.’

I sounded like I did want to sleep with him, and Barton noticed, because of course he did. He smiled, but didn’t comment on my slip-up. That just made it even worse. It was like he wasn’t even surprised.

I never slept with men like Barton. Okay, so I didn’t sleep with many men period, but even if I did, men like Barton would be right at the bottom of the list. Tasha constantly pleaded with me to ‘let my hair down’ and hook up with a guy who had more muscles than brain cells. She certainly had fun doing that, but the two of us were as different as sisters could be when it came to taste in men.

Tasha would love to spend time with Barton. The two of them would already be going at it on this table. I should set them up, but… that just wouldn’t feel right. I didn’t know why. Or maybe I did, and just didn’t want to admit it.

“This isn’t going to work,” I said softly. “I’m not going to work for a client who just hits on me all the time.”

“Yes you are.”

“No, I’m not.”

Who the fuck did he think he was? Were all rich, famous people this fucking irritating and arrogant?

“You are going to work with me,” Barton replied, “because you’ll get to spend more time with me, and I know that’s what you want.”

“I very much doubt you know what I want, Mr. Fenner.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that if I were you. Right now, I reckon you want me to walk over there and stand behind you. You want me to reach a hand down your blouse and cup your breast, as I kiss your neck softly. Then I’ll pull you up by your hair, and—”

“This is a business meeting,” I snapped. I had to look angry to control the redness spreading across my face. I quickly crossed my legs, as my desire started spreading throughout my body. Again, Barton noticed. He never missed any of the signs.

“Okay, then I’ll give you the business reason. You’re only here for the summer, correct?”

I nodded, relieved to actually be talking business for once.

“And you want a job here after graduation?”

I nodded again. “Here, or somewhere similar.” Preferably somewhere I wouldn’t be working for Leona.

“Then you’ll work for me this summer, and I’ll give you a glowing reference. You’ll be able to get any job you want.”

“I’m not going to sleep with you for a reference.”

“I know. You’ll sleep with me because I’ll make you come like you never thought possible. Again, and again, and again. You’ll come so hard, and so often, that you’ll barely be able to move.”

I did my best to block out his words, but it was impossible. Just hearing him talk about me coming had me damp between my legs, and desperate to get home and spend some alone time with my toys.

“Fine,” I replied reluctantly. “I’ll work for you on one condition.”

“Name it.”

“You never once ask me for sex.”

“Deal,” Barton replied instantly.

I raised my eyebrows in shock. I’d been expecting a smartass response, or a denial.

“I won’t need to ask,” Barton said. “You’re going to ask me.”

“God, you’re an asshole.”

“And I will say no,” Barton continued, as if I hadn’t said anything. “I’m not going to fuck you until you beg me for my dick.”

I looked into his eyes and saw not a single shred of doubt. He didn’t think or hope that I was going to beg him for sex. He
knew
it.

He might be a dumb, meathead footballer, but I had a horrible feeling he might not be wrong about this one.