The Cruiserweight (4 page)

Placing his hands on both sides of her head,
Brett thrust his hips toward her face. Rachel brought him close
several times with her expertise, driving him to the edge, until he
couldn’t take any more.

“Oh, God, I’m going to come
…
”

Within seconds, Brett reached his climax,
sending warm sperm down her throat, amazed at the sight of Rachel
swallowing it all without choking.

Sated when it was over, he showed her the
bathroom where she could clean up. Rachel took a quick shower
before she dressed, leaving without a backward glance in his
direction.

Brett wasn’t the “get naked, get me off, get
dressed, and get out” type under normal circumstances, but when
their carnal encounter ended, Rachel had no further interest in
him. She turned out to be like all the others, a slut out to fuck
wrestlers. He guessed it would only be a matter of time before the
woman bragged to her friends about sucking his well-endowed
dick.

He was famished when he finished cleaning up,
debating whether to go out and grab something or order room
service. He decided dealing with the headache of being recognized
by fans wasn’t worth going to the nearest fast food place. He was
also worn out from the random blow job, and placed a room service
order for a hamburger platter and soda.

Waiting for dinner, Brett unpacked his bags,
finding a gift he received from another woman with whom he chatted
the night before. It was a framed article she‘d written about him.
He had hit it off with Karen, who seemed like a fun and interesting
lady. He also found her an outstanding journalist as he read how
Karen outlined his career from the time he’d been a wrestling
student.

His order arrived, and Brett signed for it,
adding a generous tip. He then searched online for anything of
interest, including how to get in touch with Karen, while he ate.
Her writing wasn’t limited to wrestling or even sports in general.
He found a few websites where she covered an array of topics, two
which caught his eye. The first discussed the topic on legalizing
medical marijuana. Another was an overview on the causes of hearing
loss and deafness.

Brett found the information he wanted and
decided to send some sort of thank you token. He didn’t get in
touch with fans outside of routine situations on a regular basis,
but there was something about Karen Montgomery he never saw in
anyone. She would be the first woman who neither wanted to get him
in the sack nor made him feel like a loser.

*****

Greg Sullivan felt ridiculous as he paced
through the main news room carrying a large bouquet of flowers,
ignoring the snickers from nearby desks. “Anyone seen
Karen?”

Terry looked up from his computer. “She just
came back from lunch and working on the show she covered last
night. Something about a follow-up story. Did you get sweet on her
all of the sudden?”

“Very funny. No, these came for her about ten
minutes ago.”

“She should still be back there,
boss.”

“Thanks, Jackson.”

A few moments passed before Karen realized
anyone was standing before her. When she looked up from her
monitor, Karen gave her editor a warm smile before spotting the
bouquet Sullivan placed on her desk.

“Oh, Mr. Sullivan, you shouldn’t have. What’s
the occasion?”

“They aren’t from me, Karen. They came for you
earlier.”

A puzzled look crossed her face. “Who sent
them?”

“I have no idea. There is a card, though,”
Sullivan replied, handing it to her. “Is there any chance you have
a secret admirer?”

Karen gave him an odd look before opening the
small envelope and reading the inscription on the card. “What’s
this?”

“Something wrong?”

“These came from a wrestler I met last night.
We talked for several hours and I gave him a copy of the story from
last year. They’re very nice flowers, but a thank you card would
have sufficed.”

“Hold it. Are you saying the roses are
from…”

“Brett Kerrigan.”

“I’m guessing you made quite an
impression.”

“I suppose. He even enclosed his phone number
and instant message account information.”

“Sounds like one Mr. Kerrigan wants to
establish something beyond a one-night chat session over drinks.
You’re going to go through with contacting the man, aren’t
you?”

“I have nothing to lose. For Brett to send
flowers, it’s only considerate of me to get in touch. I’ll make a
note to contact him when I get home.”

*****

“I don’t get the whole thing, Eddie,” Karen
said when they had dinner that evening. “Think about it. Brett
Kerrigan is around gorgeous divas at least three hundred days a
year. He has girls and young women crushing on and lusting after
him, some of them far prettier than I am. But he sent me flowers
along with his phone number and instant message
information.”

“Did the thought ever occur there’s something
about you which made him feel comfortable?”

“So do eighty thousand other women around the
world.”

“I’m serious, K. You’re a good-looking lady,
intelligent, and your sense of humor is amazing. You just met the
man last night and had to have some outstanding quality to have him
remember you other than your gift to send flowers. I’m sure he
doesn’t do that for everyone. Enjoy the attention.”

“He and I discussed a few things in passing
when we met last night. I know you and I can talk about the
situation and it won’t go further.”

“I’m good at keeping mum.”

“I know, that’s why I’m telling you about last
night.”

“You wanted some new material to inspire you
for a feature story. I think your meeting Brett Kerrigan would be
perfect.”

“I wouldn’t feel comfortable violating his
privacy. If anything, I’d reveal only career-related
material.”

“That’s what I always liked about you. You’re a
writer with some real, down to earth ethics. Whatever you do, don’t
ever lose those qualities. They’re what makes you special. If Brett
was here right now, I have plenty of reason to believe he would
agree with me.”

“That’s what I always liked about you. You’re a
writer with some real, down to earth ethics. Whatever you do, don’t
ever lose those qualities. They’re what makes you special. If Brett
was here right now, I have plenty of reason to believe he would
agree with me.”

CHAPTER 5

Karen logged on her computer and discovered a
surprise in her email—a message that stood out among the inbox’s
other correspondence.

“Hey, it’s Brett. Do you want to chat on
instant messenger around eight o‘clock your time?”

“Sure, looking forward to talking again. Thanks
for writing me!”

At eight, she signed in and saw him online, but
didn’t contact him right away. Karen presumed he was deluged with
messages from friends and fans, and didn’t want to bother him if he
was busy.

He messaged her within minutes. “Hi! I‘ve been
waiting for you!”

“Hi, Brett. How was the show?”

“Great. I won a match against Big Mac. I‘ve
been trying to whip his ass forever.”

“Congratulations. Your feud with him has been
going on for awhile.”

“Yeah, we’re having fun. I know a lot of people
think Mac has a big head because of his status, but he’s a cool,
funny guy outside of the ring and looks out for the smaller dudes.
He also treats the girls like princesses, always sending them
flowers and stuff. I dig guys being nice to women, which is one
reason Mac and I get along so well.”

“Speaking of which, thanks for the flowers you
sent me, they’re beautiful.”

“It’s the least I can do for both the great
time we had at our meeting and that cool gift you gave me. I even
got Patrick sending them to people.”

“How is he these days?”

“Much better. Not depressed any more. Just made
a commercial.”

“
I don’t think I saw it. To be
honest, I don’t pay much attention to those.”

“Didn’t air yet. The last time I spoke to
Patrick, his commercial was still in the editing stages. He has a
real nice girl running an official website for him out of New York.
You may want to check it out.”

Patrick was a contrast of his former tag
partner. Brett was short, fair-skinned and considered at best by
most average in appearance. Patrick stood five feet, ten inches,
weighing a little over two hundred pounds. He had genuine tan skin,
near-black hair, and stunning hazel eyes. His mix of Mexican and
Cherokee heritage had paid off with dazzling good looks. Even when
he wasn’t wrestling, Patrick turned heads among female fans. When
he lost his job a year earlier with the promotion where Brett
worked, Patrick was devastated, disappearing from public view for
months. He had resurfaced several weeks earlier, looking into
acting opportunities.

Brett typed in the address of Patrick‘s
website, which Karen noted for later reference. “Now you’re not
going to dump me for him, are you? Most girls do.”

“
Of course not! I never did thank
you for spending so much time with me when we met. I’m amazed to
find out how much you and I have in common just from talking now
and that night.”

“You don't fawn all over me with the whole ‘I
love you! I‘m your biggest fan!!’ line or talk about having sex
with me,” he replied. “I swear, if I hear either one more time,
I’ll jump off the nearest bridge.”

“I don‘t know how you deal with all of
that.”

“All of the fawning and ass kissing bug me more
than you know. That’s what I like about you. You’re different, and
I think we’re going to be good friends.”

“Me too. I’m shocked to learn things about you
that haven’t appeared online or in magazines.”

“Don’t believe everything you read. Most are
rumors, speculation, or innuendo at least ninety-nine percent of
the time. Unless I tell you different, take what’s printed as a
bunch of bullshit.”

“In my business, I’m conditioned to do such
unless I get my stories from a reliable source.”

She asked a question which had weighed in the
back of her mind for some time. “May I ask you something, provided
you won’t get upset? You don’t have to answer if it makes you
uncomfortable.”

“Sure, go ahead.”

“There was a story published about you failing
a dozen marijuana tests. As a result, your brief push leveled off.
The article said you were a frequent smoker who paid the
thousand-dollar fine without a second thought and continued your
habit.”

“Yeah, but the fine is
eight
hundred
dollars
, not a thousand. The times I know I’m going to fail,
I’ll write a check in advance. Nowadays, they’re letting up more on
the whole pot issue. It doesn’t seem to be as big of a deal as
painkillers, steroids, or far worse things others used.”

“I’ve heard about the whole drug
problem.”

“Keep in mind some people do pot just for fun.
I use weed for medical purposes to treat my anxiety disorder. I’ve
done better with that than traditional medications. Smoking a joint
makes it easier for me to focus, concentrate and improve my work in
the ring. Contrary to some ‘wrestling journalist’s’ belief that I’m
high all the time, nothing can be further from the
truth.”

CHAPTER 6

“Good afternoon, Karen!” Brett typed on his
instant messenger two months later.

“Hi! What a pleasant surprise. Don’t you have
any matches or appearances today?”

“No, I’m free until Friday. Why online so
early?“

“The usual drudge of working on something for
Monday’s deadline. You?”

“Irritated about the latest fan issue I
encountered and trying to find a firm but nice way to send messages
to annoying people.”

“Like what?”

“How about, ‘At least have the decency to leave
me alone when you see me out or I'm eating.’ The main things I
despise are rude fans and never having privacy for even the
simplest shit.”

“I can’t blame you. People should be able to do
everyday things in peace like shopping or going out for a
meal.”

“Yeah, but privacy should be for everyone. By
the way, I have another drug test scheduled for Monday. The good
news is there’s no check to write.”

“You haven’t smoked any marijuana?”

“Not in the last couple of months, since I‘ve
tried to quit. My piss should be clean.”

“What does Patrick think? I know he wasn’t
happy about your habit.”

“Very supportive in helping me stay off weed.
When I can’t count on anyone else, he’s always around.”

“There were quite a few fans let down when he
was fired.”

“Between the two of us, dear, I think his whole
attitude led him to being cut. There was also the matter of the
creative department not being able to do anything with him after we
split up. May I be honest with you, Karen?”