Chapter Three - Erica
“An interview?” he asked me. He had suddenly stopped in front of a locker, clearly his. I could feel my neck burning as I tried to maintain my composure. Men had started to strip right in front of me. They were all either lost in their own locker room world, or they were doing it purposely because they could see that a young, nervous girl was in the locker room with them.
Friendly curses were being flung around, towels were being wrapped around waists. Some didn’t even bother to cover their dicks. A ritualistic shower was coming up, and I felt like all these men were putting on a show.
Kyle Murphy was still fiddling around with his locker, thankfully he hadn’t started to strip yet.
“Yes, your manager said that you were willing to give me an interview,” I reiterated as he smiled. I noticed the white set of perfectly sparkling teeth, those green eyes which laughed along with the rest of his face. He shook his head indulgently.
“Lewis is a pain in the ass,” he said, and I could feel my hands start to get clammy. I was running out of things to say. I was getting a first-hand experience in exactly how charming Kyle Murphy could be.
“Nonetheless, he has promised us your time,” I managed to say. I had to stick to the plan. I had to remain professional. A look bordering on annoyance took over Kyle’s face. He was probably irritated that I had said that, but I wasn’t going to budge. I was going to get this interview.
“How long is this going to take?” he asked and I bit down on my lip.
“Half an hour? Forty-five minutes?” I said, trying to make it sound convincing. My attention had started to waver, though. I could see that he had started to unlace his shoes, which meant he was going to take off his clothes very soon.
“I don’t have that kind of time, Erica.” He remembered my name. He straightened his back and was back to smiling. Then I saw his eyes narrow as he glanced, in full view, directly at my breasts. I could feel my cheeks blushing.
“But there was a promise made, and I only have a couple of quick questions.” I charged through. Nothing was going to faze me. This was my career. I had points to prove to my dad.
“Quick questions?” He said it with a laugh.
“Yes, just a few questions about the game, and…” I tried to frame the words as best as I could.
“And about the recent poll in the papers?” he asked and I stuck up my chin. I could see the pride in his eyes. He was having fun with me, he was enjoying the attention. I could see that he had directly assumed that he was making me wet.
He had started to roll up his jersey. It came sliding off his body. He bunched it up into a ball and flung it into his open locker. I gulped as discreetly as I could manage to. His shoulders were broad and his smooth torso was sticky with sweat, his six-pack on full display. Instantly, I imagined my tongue running down the middle of his chest, all the way down his stomach and…
“So is that what you want to ask me?” He interrupted my thoughts and I shook my head.
“I’m not an entertainment reporter, Mr. Murphy,” I managed to say without fumbling.
“Call me Kyle,” he said.
“I’m a sports journalist, Kyle, so I’ll stick to the questions related to the game if that’s alright with you,” I said, instantly regretting it. I didn’t want to come across as arrogant. I knew Kyle Murphy wasn’t the kind of man to deal with arrogance well. Besides, he had probably already seen me drooling over his naked torso, so there was no denying that I was thinking about how sexy he was.
He gave a sudden laugh, and then to my absolute shock started to remove the rest of his clothes. I gulped again, staring at him with widened eyes – at his nakedness, at that huge throbbing dick that already looked aroused. Or was it just the way it always looked?
I snapped back my head to meet his eyes. I had to remain professional. I wasn’t going to allow myself to be like all those other women he so easily lured into bed. This interview wasn’t about how massively gorgeous Kyle Murphy looked naked.
“Of course, Erica. You can ask me all the serious questions you like,” he said then, still smiling. He had already seen me looking, seen me blushing.
I licked my lips and tried to force a weak smile on my face. “Let me just grab my notepad and I’ll have the questions ready for you,” I said, dragging my gaze away from him and shuffling through my tote for the things I needed.
When I looked up I saw that his legs were spread wide apart and his feet planted firmly on the ground. His dick lay hanging, in all its glory, facing me. His arms were folded, with muscles bulging over his chest and he had a happy glint in his eye. Honestly, I was growing increasingly annoyed with him. He wasn’t taking it seriously. He wasn’t taking me seriously! This wasn’t what journalism was about.
“You can ask me all the questions you want, but I’m going to take a shower,” he said and suddenly turned on his heel and walked in the opposite direction.
I felt my jaw hang open. Then, I breathed in deeply and exhaled. If he was trying to shake me off, it wasn’t going to work.