Page 16 of Consummation

“All mine, huh?” I say. “I like the sound of that.”

“AndI’ll do the interview for you, too,” Josh adds, his smile widening.

I return his smile. “Lemme just do my intro for the segment.”

I turn away from Josh and look into the imaginary camera behind me, holding a pretend-microphone up to my mouth. “Hey, everyone. Heidi Kumquat for ESPN. I’m in the locker room with Josh Faraday, the star wide receiver for the Seahawks and the MVP of this year’s Super Bowl. If you watched the game, then you know Josh well deserved his MVP honors—he was utterly brilliant out there today. Every man watching him wanted to be him, and every woman wanted to fuck the living hell out of him.” I turn around and face Josh. “Ready?”

Josh’s eyes are burning. “Why don’t you start by asking me why I missed that one easy pass in the end zone?”

“Why’d you miss that one easy pass in the end zone, Josh?”

“‘Cause I was looking at you. As it turns out, it’s awfully hard to concentrate on catching a ball when you’re thinking about fucking the smokin’ hot blonde standing on the sideline a few yards away.” He snaps the waistband of his tight football pants and my eyes are drawn to the hard bulge straining just below his hand.

I primly clear my throat. “Well, that’s sweet of you to say. But I’d really better get to my interview.”

“Of course. You’re a professional—I admire that. Ask me anything, Heidi. I’m all yours.”

My phone buzzes with another text. Hastily, I pull my phone out of my pocket, silence it, and shove it back into my pocket.

“Sorry about that,” I say. “Well, first off, let me say congratulations on being named MVP of the game.”

Josh flashes perfect, white teeth. “Thanks. But, you know, it was a total team effort.” He runs his palm across his chiseled abs. “Damn, girl, you’re something to look at, you know that? You’re the kind of woman makes an MVP wannafuck.”

“Oh my goodness, thank you,” I say demurely. “I’m flattered, but I really can’t flirt with you, Josh. I’ve got a job to do.”

“Flirtwith me?” He smiles lasciviously. “You think I’m hard like this because I wannaflirtwith you?” He makes an extremely sexual noise. “‘Flirt’ isn’t the ‘f’ word I wanna do with you, Heidi.”

I take a shaky breath and hold my imaginary microphone to my mouth. “Um.” I swallow hard. “To what do you think you owe your success this season?”

Josh begins stroking the hard bulge straining behind his tight pants, his eyes smoldering. “I’d say the key to my success this season was just taking it one game at a time.” His voice suddenly drops to a husky growl. “Shit, baby, you’re making me hard as a rock. I can’t even think straight, looking at you.” He takes a step toward me and snakes his arm around my waist. “You’ve got beautiful eyes, you know that? I can’t wait to watch ’em roll back into your head when I’m fucking you to within an inch of your life.”

“Thank you. You have beautiful eyes, too.”

Josh presses his hard-on into me. “Ever fucked the MVP of the Super Bowl, Heidi?”

I pretend to put my microphone to my lips again. “The Patriots definitely fought hard—”

Josh abruptly grabs my imaginary microphone and throws it forcefully across the room, making me laugh. “Interview over, Heidi,” Josh says. “Time for the Super Bowl MVP to fuck you.”

There’s a beat.

I glance over my shoulder at my imaginary cameraman. “Beat it, Brad.” I wait a moment to allow my imaginary cameraman to exit the locker room and then turn back to Josh. “You were saying?” I whisper.

Josh skims his lips against mine slowly. “I was saying I’m the MVP of the fucking Super Bowl, which means I can fuck any woman I want in the entire fucking world—and, baby, I want you.Right fucking now.”

My heart is pounding like crazy. “Oh, you think I’m gonna spread my legs and fuck you for no other reason than you’re the Super Bowl MVP?” I whisper.

Josh presses his hard-on into me and levels me with blazing blue eyes. “No, baby, you’re gonna spread your legs and fuck me because you’re gonna enjoy sucking my dick so goddamned much.”

Oh, he’s good. He’s very, very good.

Without further ado, Josh grips my hair and forcefully pushes me down to my knees—damn, the Super Bowl MVP’s a bossy motherfucker—and a grand total of two seconds later, I’m on my knees, voraciously sucking the Super Bowl MVP’s dick, making myself come like a freight train. Shortly after that, I’m dangling from a pull-up bar, my thighs resting on the Super Bowl MVP’s shoulder pads, my pussy deep in his mouth, my flesh rippling against his lips and tongue. And after that, yep, the arrogant but sexy bastard called it—I’m spreading my legs for the Super Bowl MVP while getting fuckedhard,until my eyes are rolling back into my head.

“Good times,” Josh says after we’re both done and completely spent. He spanks my ass playfully. “You wanna join me in the shower, Heidi?”

“I’ll be right there. I’m gonna check my phone real quick. I got a couple texts.”

“Okeedoke,” Josh says. He turns around, flashing me his YOLO’d ass, and practically skips toward the showers. “Hey, a bunch of guys went for burgers and beers nearby. You wanna meet up with them?”

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