Page 4 of Necessary Roughness

“Who says I have a boyfriend?” she asks.

“Sexy girl like you,” I reply with a smile. “How couldn’t you?”

She seems to accept about two percent of my compliment but maintains her composure.

“Yes, I do have a boyfriend,” she replies.

“What’s he do? Does he spoil you? Treat you right?”

“That’s none of your business.”

“Maybe not.” I shrug. “But if you want to know my business, you’re going to need to open up a bit.”

She shakes her head. “Not gonna happen. Sorry, Mr. Brodeur, but I can see where this is going. I’ll be leaving now.”

“Tell you what,” I say, holding her wrist tight. “Come to the rooftop of the Revere tonight and I’ll give you the whole scoop.”

She glares at me suspiciously. I just flash her my million-dollar grin and keep my eyes on hers. I’m hot between the legs. No girl has had this kind of effect on me since I first started hitting puberty. And I don’t even know her name yet.

“

I think I have all I need,” she replies. She tries to pull away from me, but I don’t let her. I can’t. I don’t ever want her out of my presence.

“What’s your name?” I ask her.

She shrugs.

“Don’t worry about it. We won’t be seeing each other again.”

She kicks me hard in the shin with her heel, causing me to drop her wrist, and quickly runs out of the room.

Damn, I think as I rub my skin. Yeah. That’s the one for me.

3

Natalie

“I knew it,” I grumble as I slam the car door shut and twist the key. “Arrogant prick!”

My tires squeal as I slam on the gas, and an old lady just about jumps out of her skin as I peel out of the parking garage and into the Boston streets. I’ve had interviews that didn’t go so well, but that was by far the worst experience I’ve ever had as a reporter.

I mean, who does he think he is coming over to me completely naked?! Sure, he’s got a great body—there’s no denying that—but talk about all the inappropriate things to do! I guess it’s worked for him in the past though; he just sidles up to some wide-eyed fan of his, shows her the goods, and the next thing she knows, she’s riding his rocket all the way to the moon.

Fumbling with my phone, I scroll quickly to Charles’ number, but as I go to press it, it slides out of my hands (I realize I’m sweating) and falls into my lap. Grumbling, I reach between my legs and grab it, and realize something else—something worse: I’m also wet.

“Fuck…”

I’m almost disappointed with myself. I knew I was attracted to him, but I didn’t realize just how much. It was the most I’d ever seen of a man before. Rick and I have made out, and I’ve even felt his dick through his pants before, but I’ve never actually touched or seen it before. I tell myself that the image that flashes through my mind of Bobby wrapping his arms around me and kissing me is just a reflex, like when someone says cake and you picture one in your mind, but I’m not so sure.

I grab my phone and dial Charles. He picks up on the last ring.

“Hitchens!” he says jovially, sounding a bit buzzed. “How’d the Brodeur story go? Get the scoop?!”

“There is no scoop, Charles,” I tell him angrily. “There is no story. I’m done.”

“Done?” he replies. “What are you talking about?”

“The guy’s a jerk!” I spit. “That’s all there is to it! He tried to talk to me while he was naked! Can you believe that!?”

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