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“Purple is my favorite.” She snatched one from the small collection I’d dropped on the bed and took a few greedy sips. She let out a moan of bliss that made my cock twitch.
“I’ve never met someone so stubborn, you know.”
Chelsea laughed softly. “I’ll admit it has been a little bit since my last jog. Okay. A lot of bit.”
I moved to the armchair across from the bed where she sat and sank into it. I needed space. Dangerous ideas were bubbling up in my head, and it was only a matter of time before I did something stupid with her sitting that close. I needed to make her talk about something, anything. “What’s your story, exactly?”
She’d been sipping her drink but paused mid-drink. “You’re actually asking about me?”
I shrugged. “I’m curious what kind of situation creates someone like you.”
Chelsea smiled a little ruefully, and I noticed she wasn’t just looking better after some hydration—she was looking painfully good. She was sprawled comfortably on the bed with her legs slightly spread and her arms planted behind her. Little rivulets of sweat ran from her neck to slide over her clavicle, drawing my eyes.
“It’s not much of a story.”
“Try me,” I said.
“My brother got into trouble when we were in high school. He’s a couple years older, and my parents thought he was old enough to kick him out. I disagreed with them.”
“That’s it?”
“I mean, no. They stopped paying for my tennis lessons, stripped everything from my life I cared about one thing at a time, and eventually kicked me out, too. That was about four years before we… Met.”
My dick stirred. Met was a delicate way of putting it. The heat behind her eyes told me she remembered every single moment of that encounter, too. “What about tennis? Why were you even trying so hard to get into that meeting in the first place?”
“I was on the bubble. I thought I was good enough to play in some of the big matches, but I kept getting stuck in these satellite tournaments because I didn’t have the money to travel to the bigger ones. I thought the Olympics would help me get noticed and maybe sponsored.”
I pursed my lips. “Smart. Actually.”
“Believe it or not, I’m not the bumbling idiot you seem to make me out to be.”
I winced. She was right, of course. I’d hardly given her a chance to show me who she really was. I’d been too busy trying to put my boot on her neck to break her stubborn confidence. “You’re not an idiot,” I said. “Far from it. That’s actually part of why I wanted to bring you on this trip. I wanted to offer you a position as one of my acquisition agents. You’d scout talent and try to bring them under the Rose Athletic Representation umbrella. Your salary wouldn’t be what it is now,” I added, feeling childish. Of course it wouldn’t. I’d offered her an administrative salary to sit at a ridiculous little desk and do busywork for me. And I’d done it because I was too busy being a prick to think straight. “But you’d get a percentage of the cut from any athlete you bring on board. One percent. The agent who takes over gets fourteen.
“In time, you could work your way up to being a full-fledged agent, too. Acquisitions are always the starting block.”
The smile she’d worn faded slowly. “I’d need to know a little more.”
“Some of our top athletes earn as much as thirty million per year from contracts with their team. That number can explode upwards when sponsorships enter the equation. One percent of sixty million per year, for example, would be six hundred thousand dollars. Chances are, you’d have to start with some smaller fish. Athletes in less popular sports, maybe. But if you bring in a million-dollar athlete, that’s ten thousand a year in your pocket. Bring in a handful more, and you get the picture.”
“Yes. Yes!” Chelsea hopped up, and this time, I was ready for it. I knew she was going to try to hug me. I stuck out my arm to stop her, but she swatted it to the side and practically jumped on top of me.
I’d been sitting with my legs casually opened, and the way she landed meant she was halfway straddling me. Her body was radiating heat and still slick with sweat, just like mine.
She pulled back from the hug, and her ecstatic smile melted away. Her eyes grew heavy, sliding down to my mouth.
“Chelsea,” I said. “I’d be no good for you.”
“I know,” she whispered. “I’m only ever drawn to the bad ones. I should’ve learned my lesson by now. But I haven’t.” She pulled her lower lip in between her teeth, still fixated on my lips.
“I’m your boss. I’d end up breaking your heart, too.”
