(A
standalone novel)Release
date 1/18/2016 A Contemporary Romance novel New York
Times & USA Today BestsellerVi Keeland
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.
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“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.
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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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