Playing For Keeps (10 page)

***

He rode the elevator up to his room, taking a second to locate the hidden camera he missed earlier. He promised the head of night security, Charlie, to fork over five grand and skybox tickets for tomorrow’s game in exchange for his discretion and for making both incidents disappear.

Before the man agreed to erase the evidence, he reviewed the tapes to make sure the sex was consensual. Mortified didn’t begin to describe how he felt, however, that didn’t stop him from looking over Charlie’s shoulder to watch. He did restrain himself from asking for a copy. And from burning out Charlie’s eyes after seeing Samantha naked. Though from the angle you couldn’t tel it was her.

He managed to keep her name out it and explained a groupie had presented him with an offer he couldn’t refuse. This seemed to satisfy Charlie and they shook on the deal.

Hopeful y, the man would hold up his end of the bargain and the video wouldn’t end up sold to the highest bidder and released on the Internet.

Ryan had done al he could to protect Samantha.

The bel dinged and the doors slid open. Trudging down the hal , bleary eyed from the events of the day and lack of sleep, he felt like a zombie in some B movie.

“Terel , why the hel aren’t you in your room?”

Ryan cringed at his coach’s gruff voice, wondering if anyone on the floor would wake up. “Couldn’t sleep,” he said in a near whisper.

“Can’t sleep when you’re messing around with some bimbo.” Coach Werner lowered his voice slightly.

A former NFL player, his coach packed on the pounds when his career was over. His face weathered from the countless days in the sun and the biting winds of winter. After three seasons as head coach of the Cougars, his once jet black hair grayed to a stainless steel finish.

Ryan took in his coach’s rumpled sweat-suit and half finished Yoo-Hoo. No doubt he was taking a break from reviewing game films, even though it was two in the morning. His coach was a heart attack waiting to happen.

Ryan hoped he fared better in retirement. “I was getting an extra workout in the gym.”

“Next time have room service send you up milk and cookies. I need you rested.”

“Sure, coach.”

“You’re stil fined a thousand. Team rules.” Werner checked his watch. “Sleep in until eleven, then get your ass to the stadium.”

Ryan held back a grin at his coach’s tough love tactics. “Thanks, I won’t let you down.” He slipped into his room and took a quick shower.

Exhausted, he climbed into bed. Before his eyes closed, he hoped Samantha had fal en into a deep sleep fil ed with dreams of him.

***

Climbing her way out of a deep sleep, Samantha picked up the phone and promptly plopped it back on the cradle. She needed that wake-up cal last night. Hel , nothing short of a nuclear power plant siren would’ve broken through the sound of her thudding heart or kept her away from finding out what it felt like to be with Ryan. Not even the threat of losing her job.

Hadn’t she learned her lesson in Iraq? Rules were established for a reason, yet she felt compel ed to buck the system at every turn. Having a plum assignment embedded with Marines in Iraq hadn’t been enough. Enticed with dreams of a Pulitzer, she jumped on the chance to interview the head of the insurgence and snuck out of camp. A war correspondent’s job was risky enough, but to leave the protection of the troops was catamount to a suicide mission. She survived her own stupidity and now here she was committing career suicide. Did she have some sort of death wish? As she stared at the ceiling, she realized something much more was at risk than her life. Her heart.

She braved a stretch and nearly purred at the luscious ache between her legs. Hannah was right; she had needed to get laid. She was dying to share the news with her friend, but if she expected Ryan to keep the secret, then she couldn’t turn around and tel Hannah. Besides Hannah would encourage more risky behavior.

Samantha wouldn’t need much persuasion to ask Ryan to explore every piece of equipment in the gym. Talk about working out!

She reluctantly stripped off her nightshirt and headed for the bathroom. She laid her things out on the vanity and for the first time Samantha was able to look – real y look - in the mirror. The image reflecting back made her smile. Her eyes were bright. Gleaming. With life.

With hope.

The rosy glow of her complexion made her look like a freshly deflowered virgin. She laughed out loud at the thought.

Samantha lightly touched the love bite on her shoulder. He marked her. That’s okay, she thought, she was pretty sure the nail scratches she left on his back would need antiseptic.

As she showered, her hands lingered over her body and wished it was Ryan washing his caresses away instead of the harsh hotel generic soap.

A knocked sounded at the door as she finished dressing. She left the bathroom and stood at the door. The knock sounded again, startling her.

“Who is it?”

“Ryan.”

She wasn’t ready to face him yet, but better now when he was ful y clothed than in the locker room half-naked. She opened the door. “Why aren’t you at the stadium?”

“Coach caught me breaking curfew. After fining me a thousand, he told me to sleep in.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s the best thousand I’ve ever been fined.”

She didn’t want to think about the reasons for his other fines. “If that’s supposed to be a compliment, you’re losing your touch.”

“You had no problems with my touch last night.”

Her gaze dropped to his hands and Samantha warmed al over. She swal owed down the desire to pul him into the room and have his fingers work their magic. Bitter for wanting something she shouldn’t made her snarky, “Yup, the Earth moved. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“Only the Earth? Next time I promise a bed and a trip out of this world.”

The bed, just a few feet behind her, beckoned. Thankful y, the game started in two hours. She looked at her watch and realized she was running late. “Shouldn’t you be focusing on the game today?”

“Probably, but--”

“See, this is why we can’t do this-” She risked a glance down the hal to see if anyone was coming, then whispered, “ again.”

“I guess this means no good luck kiss.”

“You don’t need luck.”

“Everybody needs luck.”

His charming smile nearly broke down her defenses. “Wel , then last night wil have to hold you over.”

“For how long?”

“Til your next conquest.”

“Is that what you think that was for me?” he asked in a tight whisper.

“Wasn’t it?”

“I think I made myself clear last night on what I want.” Ryan leaned forward, closing the distance between them.

Samantha took a step back into the room and took hold of the door, using it as an imaginary barrier. “Yes, you did. I believe it’s cal ed convenient sex.”

“Nothing about you is convenient.” Ryan reached out and pul ed her to him.

She didn’t resist, suddenly held captive by his warring eyes, which conflicted with the gentle caress of his thumb across her cheek.

“Sometimes a man has to make his own luck.” Then he kissed her like she was his conquest. And she didn’t mind at al .

Nor did she mind at any time a hotel guest or worker could spot them. In fact, she didn’t think at al . Samantha let herself feel. Every nerve alive, like she was the Bride of Frankenstein coming to life.

He ended the kiss as abruptly as he began, letting her go as he stepped back into the hal . Samantha almost fel forward but held onto the door for support. She struggled for something to say. “Have a good game,” she said weakly.

He smiled. “Don’t worry, I’l give you something to write about.” He started to turn away, but stopped and looked back. “Oh, and Samantha?”

“What?”

“I won’t tel anyone about this either,” he said with a smirk. Then whistled as he walked to the elevator.

Arrogant male.
If she had been holding something she would’ve thrown it at him. She closed the door, picked up her bag, and sat on the bed to wait. She didn’t want them to be seen leaving together.
Of course, that didn’t stop you from jumping him in the fitness center or letting him kiss
you into oblivion in a hotel hallway.
If they continued this way, it would be only a matter of time until they got caught in the act. And it would be only a matter of time until she fel in love with him.

***

Samantha placed her netbook and note pad onto the table in the press box. Being one of the out of town reporters meant a backseat in the corner, making it difficult to see the field. Rows of sportswriters were setting up shop, booting up or checking ESPN on their cel phones.

Hoping to get a quick post in on her blog, Samisports, she tapped into the wireless network. Her editor suggested the blog so she could connect with her readers. She had to admit it was fun, except for the jerks that liked to leave crude comments.

A smal buffet table ran along the back wal with hot dogs, knishes, and salads. Her stomach rumbled and she loaded a paper plate with a little bit of everything. Her parents would be happy to see her eating but her father wouldn’t be happy for the reason. Good sex made her hungry. Great sex made her ravenous.

Sitting down before the plate broke under the weight of al the food, she took a bite of a hot dog as she checked her email. The hunger pangs went into remission at the sight of the familiar address of Sgt Marinel i. Clicking it open, she said a silent prayer, hoping for good news.

Sami,

Just checking in. Everyone fine. We al miss saving your cute little ass out here. Come back soon. (That was a joke.) Thanks for the package. Tel Hannah thanks for the letters and a Hoo-Rah for the pictures. Send more trail mix…and pictures.

Sergeant Marinel i

They’re okay
. The air released out from her lungs in a whoosh, blowing her bangs up. She wondered when Hannah slipped in her own ‘care’

package into the box. Not unlike how she slipped those condoms into Samantha’s workout bag. Hannah was like the fairy godmother of sex.

The national anthem began to play and she stood proudly, thinking about her Marines, as she liked to think of them. They came after her, even though she stole away. They stil came. A few teardrops slipped from her eyes.

Sending weekly care packages was the least she could do, though it would never be enough. She brushed the wetness away from her cheeks. A certain grocery store was going to be out of trail mix.

***

Ryan could do no wrong on the field today. Catch after catch sailed into his grasp. His first touchdown of the day had him staring at his hands, imagining them bronzed and in the Footbal Hal of Fame. Feeling on top of the world, he jogged toward the sidelines as teammates smacked his helmet and slapped his back. Joining Jake on the bench, he took off his helmet and reached for the oxygen, taking a deep breath.

“Got some last night, didn’t you?” asked Jake.

He lifted the mask. “Because I’m having a good game?”

“That and the nail marks on your back.”

Ryan couldn’t help the goofy smile that broke out on his face. “Real y?” He recovered quickly adding, “Must’ve been from the power lifting I did last night.” He took another cleansing breath thinking he’d be more careful changing after the game.

“Power lifting? In a hotel gym?”

He tossed the mask over his shoulder. “Al right, al right, so I got laid.”

“The blonde from the lobby?”

“Yeah, yeah, her.”

“Good for you, it’s not natural for a man to be celibate. Besides you needed to get that Jameson chick out of your head.”

Ryan looked down. He hated lying to his buddy, but Samantha wasn’t some chick to brag about. He couldn’t exactly brag about the blonde either, but he knew he was required to say something manly. “Being celibate does suck.”

“Or rather it doesn’t,” cracked Jake.

The offensive coordinator screamed, “Girls, if you’re finished, your presence is required on the damn field!”

The defense created a turnover and he hadn’t even realized it.
Damn.
Samantha was right. He needed to keep his head in the game.

As the last one to the huddle, the quarterback said to Ryan, “Hey, old man, taking your afternoon nap?”

“Shut up and throw me the bal .”

Seven plays later he was in the end zone with the bal – another touchdown. He briefly imagined tomorrow’s paper, because he was true to his word, he’d given her plenty to write about. And he wasn’t done yet.

***

Each time the bal sailed in the air towards Ryan, she held her breath. He came up with catch after catch. She said a little cheer inside her mind each time. Hoping her col eagues didn’t notice, she quickly glanced around the room, but they al seemed to be engrossed in the game, al making comments to each other about what a great day Terel was having.

Ryan truly was an amazing athlete. Tal and muscular, everyone expected his strength and his long reach; no one expected his quick fake-outs, graceful jumps and elegant fingers. His prowess on the field served him wel off the field. She’d received a taste of what he could do to a woman.

To ease the sudden ache settling between her thighs, she shifted in her seat and bit down on her lip as pleasure shot threw her. She placed her hands to her face, positive a blush burned through her foundation.

“Jameson, your boy is putting on a show. Did you give him any advice in the elevator?” asked Bradley.

She nearly jumped in her seat, but recovered quickly. “I told him those o’s and x’s in his play book stand for offense and defense and not hugs and kisses.”

Most of the sportswriters broke out in laughter.

From across the room a local reporter yel ed, “Hey Jameson, I’d like to see you in a Dal as cheerleading uniform.”

A hush fel over the room.

She flipped her pen back and forth on the table in aggravation. The juvenile atmosphere of professional footbal extended away from the locker room. These reporters knew she was no young thing. Not that she expected a hal pass but she reported from the middle of war zones, earning the respect due her and yet even here in the States she was stil subjected to sexist remarks. Was it worth it? She real y didn’t know, but for now she would play along. “It would look better on you.”