I Know What You Read

I Know What You Read

by

Keara Kevay

Copyright © 2013 Keara Kevay

All rights reserved.

ISBN: 10:1482080435

ISBN-13: 978-1482080438

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

Disclaimer: This book is erotic fiction. It contains graphic sexual content. It is intended only for those over the age of eighteen.

CHAPTER ONE

“Well, I guess I’m not most girls.”

“Good morning, Jade,” the young woman at the reception desk called out. “Mr. Spencer was looking for you about ten minutes ago.”

Jade couldn’t stop the scowl from forming as she shook her head, “I’m supposed to be here at 8 a.m. Why does he start looking for me at 7:45?”

Kristen smiled from behind her desk. “He’s always looking for you.  I think he likes you,” she teased. “Did you see the guy he hired last week for the sports column?”

“No,” Jade said, returning the smile as she lowered her voice and stepped closer to the biggest gossiper in the office, “but I hear he’s a big shot from the Chicago Trib.”

“Noah Taylor,” Kristen whispered back, “former Yankee’s pitcher and sports columnist for the big C.” She glanced behind Jade, straightened slightly, and winked at the approaching men.

“Oh, this looks good,” Julian said as he saddled up on one side of Jade as his partner Ethan took the other side, effectively making a Jade sandwich. “What’s the dish, ladies?”

“Nothing much,” Kristen continued, but it was obvious she was dying to spread the news, “I was just telling Jade that Mr. Spencer hired Noah Taylor for the sports column opening.”

“
The
Noah Taylor?” Ethan questioned. “You mean we finally have some decent beef-cake on board?”

Jade turned and gazed at Ethan; he was a living doll.  He had this Ian Somerhalder thing going on with his boyish good looks and a pair of cold-enough-to-burn-you ice-blue eyes peering out from under a hand-tousled pile of light brown hair with blond highlights. “What do you care? You have Julian; he’s about as beef-cake as it gets.”

Julian gave his best Johnny Depp grin, “You’re not trying to put a move on a gay man in a committed relationship are you, Perfect Jade?”

She loved it when he called her Perfect Jade, though she never felt perfect. She sighed as she stared into his rich, chocolate orbs. It seemed such a waste for the two sexiest men at the newspaper to be gay. “Would it work if I was?” she asked with a little giggle.

“You nasty bitch,” Ethan teased, “hittin’ on my man!”

“You’re the one who said you were looking for decent beef-cake,” Jade defended.

“See, that’s what you don’t understand about a couple like us,” Ethan whispered as he leaned closer to Jade’s ear, “we don’t have to be exclusive—we share.”

She wasn’t sure if it was his breath on her neck that tickled so badly, or the quiver that came from the thought of these two hard bodied, gorgeous males stripped down butt-naked. Mentally, she flashed back to the erotic story she read yesterday describing exactly what she visualized. She peered fearlessly into Ethan’s mesmerizing blue eyes, “Then how come we’ve never had a date?”

“Because you’re the wrong—”

“There you are,” interrupted a male voice from across the lobby.

Jade looked up to see her boss, Hiram Spencer, moving toward her at a quick pace.

“I booked you to do an interview this morning at eight.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about this yesterday?” she asked, trying to hide her exasperation.

“Because I didn’t know Noah was coming in until last night.”

“You want me to—” she began, but was cut off by men shouting on either side of her.

“Dibs,” Ethan called a split second before Julian said the exact same thing. “You do want some shots, right boss?”

“Yeah, yeah, sure I want a couple shots. You go with her, and Julian you can dig me up a few file shots from his baseball career and maybe his profile pic from Chicago.”

Julian nodded, but he didn’t look too enthused about his role.

“So he’s here?” Jade asked, motioning in the air as if to say in the building.

“No, he’s at his hotel. He flew in last night. He put an offer in on a place out on the beach, but he wanted to actually see it before he commits. He’ll start officially when he covers the Rays’ game on Friday.”

Jade glanced down at her watch, “It’s 8:00 now; I’m going to be late.”

“Don’t worry your pretty little head,” Mr. Spencer stated. “He’s five minutes away on Harbour Island at the Westin. I’ll call and tell him you are on your way.”

“I’ll grab my camera,” Ethan said as he started walking. “Do you want me to drive?”

“No. We’ll take my car. I’ll meet you outside.”

Jade unlocked her little white Mazda Miata, debating if she should put the top down, but she decided a wind-blown appearance might not be the best way to make her introduction.

“When did you get this?” Ethan asked as he approached her assigned parking spot.

“Last Friday but I shouldn’t have done it.”

“I know what you mean girlfriend, newspaper pay sucks,” he said as he seated himself in the passenger’s side. “This is nice though.”

She gave a light laugh as she cranked the car and put the gear shift in reverse, “You’re right, but I have a short-term second job starting in a month—and it should help, at least for a little while.”

“Where?”

She looked at him and gave a sly smile, “HSN.”

His eyebrows rose, “Are you writing copy for them?”

“No, I’m going to be on the show doing an electronics promo for a line of computers, tablets, and phones they’re pushing. I don’t know why they decided a reporter from the Trib would be influential, but they want me to work the student and business angle.”

“I guess looking like a stone-cold fox helped—and now a star is born,” he sighed.

“You’re ‘stone’ cold,” she laughed, “Me? Hardly—but I won’t turn down the extra cash. Hey, you know if they start a photography line maybe I can get you and Julian on the show. Every lady in America will suddenly need a new camera,” she giggled.

“Just the ladies?” he asked, sounding disappointed.

They both laughed.

They made it to the hotel by 8:10. Not bad, Jade considered, especially since she just found out she was doing this interview. Noah was in a luxury suite which reminded her he hadn’t taken this job for the money—he made enough when he played professional ball; sports writing he did for kicks.

She knocked and waited, but when the door opened, she received a shocking surprise.

There stood the late thirty-something former ballplayer with rivulets of water dripping down his muscular frame and nothing but a towel, and a rather small towel at that, around his waist.

For once, she was speechless.

“Hi,” he said with a sexy slight smile, “you must be Jade.”

Ethan had been standing out of view a few feet to her right, but he immediately stepped up beside her and watched as the smile wilted off of Noah’s face.

“Ye—yeah, hi,” she stammered, offering her hand. “This is one of our photographers, Ethan Stone. I’m sorry,” she continued, sounding more flustered than she cared to, “I thought Mr. Spencer told you we were on our way over. It looks like we caught you at a bad time. Do you—ah—would you like us to come back later?”

“He said
you
were on your way over,” he emphasized as he stepped back and motioned them into his room, “he neglected to mention he was sending a photographer.”

Wow, what a revelation. He knew she was coming so he dressed in a towel? This was going to be an interesting interview. She’d handled cocky men before, but Noah put the ‘cock’ in cocky. He seated himself on the sofa, legs a bit splayed. She couldn’t help but notice his inner thigh was so exposed that his balls were a fraction of an inch from showing. To say she was uncomfortable would have been an understatement, but she was good at hiding her emotions.

Instantly, she had a funny thought.
Damn, I bet Ethan is about to cream his pants over this whole adventure.
This
guy has no clue he’s being an exhibitionist for a gay guy
. But when she looked at Ethan, she was surprised to see he looked pissed-off instead of happy.

“Okay,” she began with a deep breath, “tell me what inspired you to move to the Tampa Bay area?”

She gathered the usual information, not totally surprised when he mentioned his pregnant, 22 year-old wife who was back in Chicago waiting for their home to sell. Within twenty minutes she felt she had enough to wrap this bozo up. Nothing was wrong with his looks—he had a bit of the Matthew McConnaughey look to him—but she could tell he was a womanizing, over-confident, and smug asshole under the polite small talk. Sizing people up to their closest celebrity look-a-like was an occupational leftover from two years of writing the entertainment column before becoming the community reporter, but determining their inner person was a quality all her own—and she was rarely wrong.

“So, Jade, I don’t have too many friends yet in Tampa, how about dinner with me tonight? Business only of course, so we can get a little more
in-depth
for your story.”

She smiled politely, “Oh, I think I have you pretty well figured out—for my story, I mean.” She tried not to let the sarcasm be too apparent in her voice.  She heard Ethan give a small chuckle. “Oh, Ethan,” she said, turning to him, “did you want to get a couple shots?”

“If I was doing a spread for Playgirl, Noah’s attire might work, but unless he wants to put some clothes on—“

“You know how to crop, don’t you?” came Noah’s snide remark. “Besides, you can give Jade an uncropped pic for me to autograph.”

“Oh,” she said, “that’s okay, I—“

“How about a locker room shot?” he asked as he pulled the tied end of the towel loose and exposed a muscled hip.

“No, I’m good,” she said, rising and heading for the door as Noah laughed.

“Come on, Jade,” he called out, “your boss told me you knew how to have fun. Tell you what, the Rays’ game is going to be a community story; go with me.  I promise I’ll wear clothes.”

“Nope,” she said gripping the door knob. She didn’t dare turn around because she was pretty certain from the sound of his voice, he was standing.

“I’ll get us some great seats.”

“I’m just a photographer, so I’m not real bright about things,” Ethan said, sounding like he was barely keeping his temper under control, “but I think she told you no.”

“Think it over,” he continued, once again ignoring Ethan. “I’ll be in the office Friday morning and we’ll talk.”

She was halfway down the hall when she realized she hadn’t even looked to see if Ethan was following.

“Slow down, Jade.” He caught up to her, wrapping his arm around her shoulder for a gentle squeeze, “I think that’s the first time I’ve seen someone rattle you.”

“You know I always thought I could handle anything, but I get the feeling he was expecting a hooker instead of a reporter.”

“He has a pretty big bank account and he’s not half bad looking; I think most girls would have at least flirted with him.”

She shot him a quick frown, “Well, I guess I’m not most girls—and besides, the slime bag is married.”

Ethan gave a small laugh, “You surprise me, Jade. You come off like some kind of tough alpha female, but under that gorgeous skin of yours, you’re really a pussycat.”

“There are a lot of girls out there tougher and prettier than me,” she stated as she unlocked the car.

“Humble, too? It’s too bad I’m not into chicks because I get the feeling you could be the right one.”

She finally found her smile. She knew Ethan was just being nice to make up for her treatment by Noah, but it was fun to talk with him anyway. “So what did you think about your beef-cake?”

“I think he’s more like the Bundt cake on the back of the cow—he was an
asshole—
and generally I like assholes, but never as a personality trait,” he laughed. “I thought I was going to have to go all he-man and punch him if he tried to get anymore forward with you.”

“Did you take a pic?”

“I took a couple before I dashed out to catch up with you. Do you want me to frame one for your desk?”

She took her hand off the gear shift long enough to slug him, and then they laughed about it all the way back to the office.

CHAPTER TWO

“That wasn’t my fault.”

When Friday rolled around, she had forgotten about Noah. She finished her most recent story, early as usual, and then decided to do something which was quickly becoming a naughty routine. The problem was that it was so damn much fun she had to do it. Her fingers clicked over the keyboard as she typed in the web address to a favorite indie publishing site. She could have saved it in her bookmarks but an erotica site wasn’t something she wanted her co-workers to know she frequented. She found it two weeks earlier when she did a story about a local teenager who gained relative publishing success using similar free sites.