(A standalone novel)
Release date 1/18/2016
The first time I met Brody
Easton was in the men’s locker room.
It was my first interview
as a professional sportscaster.
The famed quarterback
decided to bare all.
And by all, I don’t mean he
told me any of his secrets.
No. The arrogant ass decided to drop his towel,
just as I asked the first question. On camera.
The Super Bowl MVP quickly
adopted a new hobby—screwing with me.
When I pushed back, he
shifted from wanting to screw with
me, to wanting to screw me.
But I don’t date
players.
And it’s not because I’m
one of the few women working in the world of professional football.
I’d date an athlete.
It’s the other kind of player I don’t date.
You know the type. Good looking, strong, cocky, always looking
to get laid.
Brody Easton was the
ultimate player.
Every woman wanted to be
the one to change him.
But the truth was, all he
needed was a girl worth changing for.
Turned out, I was that
girl.
Simple right?
Let’s face it. It never is.
There’s a story between once upon a time and happily ever after…
And this one is ours.
“You ready?” Nick slung his bag over his shoulder and
lifted his camera. The reporter in front of us wrapped up his interview and
shook hands with Easton.
As I’ll ever be. “Sure.”
I stepped forward and extended my hand. “I’m Delilah
Maddox with WMBC Sports News.”
A slow grin spread across Easton’s face. He surprised me
by leaning in and kissing me on the cheek. “Pleasure to meet you.”
I wasn’t sure if he was baiting me into an
argument—expecting me to lash out at him for kissing me when he’d just shaken
the last male reporter’s hand—or if he was trying to use his blatant sexuality
to throw me off. Either way, I wasn’t playing his game. I cleared my throat and
stood straighter, even though my knees felt a little wobbly.
“Do you mind if I ask you some questions?”
“Why else would you be in here?”
I ignored his sarcasm. He was still smiling at me.
Actually, it was more like a smirk, and it made me feel like a toy he was about
to play with. “You ready, Nick?” My cameraman finished setting up the lighting,
then lifted the camera into position and gave me a hand signal.
“Congratulations on the win today, Brody. How is your knee
feeling after your first game back?” I lifted my microphone high, knowing Nick
was filming in close.
“I feel . . . ” He nonchalantly reached to the towel
wrapped around his waist and tugged at the corner. The towel fell to the
ground. “Great. I feel great. And how about you? It’s your first trip into the
locker room, isn’t it? Do you like what you see so far?” His lips curled up into
a full-blown wicked smile.
Before I could catch myself, my eyes dropped to his naked
lower half. Shit. He was dangling in the wind. I totally got distracted by just
how low the thing dangled. It was probably a full minute before I responded to
his question. A full minute of dead air time. Great. “Yes. Umm . . . the locker
room is . . . ummm . . . nice.”
I sounded like a total ditz. On air.
The jackass continued interviewing me. “Is it as big as
you thought it would be?”
“Ummm . . . it’s much bigger than I imagined.”
His smile grew even wider.
Ugh.
I needed to get back on track or my first locker room
interview would become a laughingstock blooper. Viewers had no idea he was
naked from the waist down. “Do you think you were at one hundred percent
today?”
His eyebrows jumped. “If you’re referring to today’s game,
definitely. I had one hundred percent out there on the field. There’re some
other areas where I have a lot of growth potential, but my knee felt one
hundred percent today.”
His pale green eyes darkened, and I watched his long
lashes lower. I followed his line of sight, and suddenly I was staring at his
naked package. Again. Damn it. My eyes darted back up, but I felt my cheeks
heating. I had to end this, or I was going to be beet red on air.
“Well, welcome back. And congratulations on today’s win.”
I waited until Nick lowered his camera and turned off the
light. Then I looked right at Brody Easton’s smug face. “You’re an asshole, you
know that?”
His eyes sparkled. “I do.”
I heard the chuckles and high fives at my back as I
stormed out of the locker room.
About the Author
Vi
Keeland is a native New Yorker with three children that occupy most of her free
time, which she complains about often, but wouldn't change for the world. She
is a bookworm and has been known to read her kindle at stop lights, while
styling her hair, cleaning, walking, during sporting events, and frequently
while pretending to work. She is a boring attorney by day, and an exciting
smut author by night!
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