Hard Tackle: A Bad Boy Sports Romance by Jessica Ashe Read Free Book Online

said, putting her laptop down on the coffee table.
    “About what it would like to have my cock inside you?”
    “We should do a Q&A session on Twitter for the fans. They can all send in their questions, and we will answer the best ones.”
    “Let me guess, the answers will all be boring and safe?”
    “Of course. But it’ll be good for your image.”
    “Just to be clear, you don’t want to know what it will feel like to have cock inside you?”
    “I’ve had cock inside me, thank you very much,” Kristi replied.
    “I guarantee you’ve never taken a cock as big as mine before.”
    “Clearly you’ve never seen my toy collection.”
    “Is that an invitation?”
    “Definitely not. Now, are we going to work, or are you just going to keep being lewd all evening?”
    “Can we do both?”
    “No. You log into your Twitter account while I start preparing some canned answers to give to your adoring fans.”
    “The only thing they want to know is the size of my dick, and whether I’ll fuck them.”
    “Good to know,” Kristi remarked, picking up a pen and paper and making some notes.
    “By the way, those toys under your bed, they can’t do what I can do.” I moved over closer to Kristi so that our legs were touching. She didn’t move away even though there was plenty of room on the other side. “A vibrator can’t pull your hair while fucking you from behind.” Kristi gasped, but pretended to ignore me. “It can’t take your nipple between its teeth and bite until the pain mixes with pleasure and has you screaming at the top of your lungs.” Her breaths came short and quick. If I reached between her legs, I’d find her wet and ready for me. One touch and she would be mine. “It can’t finish all over your face, leaving you covered in a sticky mess of excitement.”
    Kristi turned her face ever so slightly in my direction. She was holding her breath now, her fingers gripping the pen and threatening to snap it in half.
    A loud knock at the door snapped us both out of our trance.
    “Maintenance,” a man yelled.
    Kristi exhaled a short breath and then took in a deep one. “Just coming.”
    Yeah, I bet you were . She put the pen and notebook down on the table and went to answer the door.
    I went to log into my Twitter account when I saw the notes she’d made on the page.
    “Hey,” I yelled out. “It is not five and a half inches, and I will not fuck anything that moves.”

Chapter Seven
Kristi
    T oday was a rare day . Today I had a meeting with Leona, and I wasn’t absolutely terrified.
    The Twitter Q&A session had gone about as well as could have been expected. Barton tweeted out that he was taking questions, and they soon flooded in. Between all the questions about penis size, and requests for sex—not all from women—he did get some sensible questions that in turn received sensible responses.
    Barton even paid attention for some of it. He had the attention span of a small child, but between watching baseball and staring at my thighs, he did provide some constructive responses. I refused to tweet out his penis size though. Nine inches sounded like an exaggeration.
    Leona had emailed me that night, and set up a meeting for first thing in the morning. Finally, I’d done something worthy of recognition besides remembering how she liked her coffee.
    “You should have run that Q&A session past me first,” Leona said, before I’d even sat down. I should have known a ‘well done’ was too much to hope for. “You might be working with the client, but I’m still in charge.”
    “Sorry,” I replied. “I’ll double check next time. I thought it went well, though.”
    Leona should look happier. I’d made Barton look good, and that made her look good. Her dad was a founding partner of the firm, so all she had to do was not fuck up and she’d be partner too one day. Having a happy client like Barton Fenner should have brought out her positive side. Maybe she didn’t have one. Maybe this was as good