I am always thankful when the press interviews are over. I wind up standing around with Gabe and Brandi afterward, the three of us just chatting in a corner until the room clears out. Damion and my manager head out together, both uttering some stupid jokes about me staying out of trouble and me giving an equally stupid response.

Eventually, Gabe, Brandi, and I get tired of standing around, and we head out the back of the building as well –exiting through the locker rooms into the back parking lot. It’s dark out now, and the place is fairly deserted apart from a few parked cars. Just as we are leaving the building a familiar, bitchy voice squeaks, “Excuse me, Mr. Trial.” It’s Alison Lial.

Brandi is the first to take defense. “Beat it, bitch,” she says. That’s my girl.

I put a hand on Brandi’s hip and offer her a smile, letting her know I can handle myself quite well. Brandi just crosses her arms and pokes out her lips. Gabe rolls his eyes and puts forth a similar stance minus the pouty lips. “Can I help you, Ms. Lial?”

“I was hoping to get a private interview,” she said, “After you had me thrown out, I was not able to get much to write about.”

“I had you thrown out for a reason, you know?” I snap.

“Listen-” she looks pissed, and I hold my hand up to her face before she can say much more.

I turn and look at Brandi and Gabe. “Hey, man, you think you could drive Brandi home? I’d like to nip this shit in the bud before the bitch writes some article trashing me.”

Brandi looks furious at my decision to not drive her home, but she goes with it. Gabe nods and the two of them head off, loading up into his car and peeling out of the parking lot. I turn and look at Alison with the most hateful glare I can manage. “Well? You want a one on one interview or not?”

“Seriously?” she questions; she clearly did not expect for me to cave.

“Yeah, but I’m not doing it out here,” I head back towards the building, and I kindly open the door up for her.

I have keys to a green room upstairs where some of the boxers go to hang out before photo shoots and promo commercials. We sit down on the futon that makes up the majority of the small room, and it only takes a couple of questions before I realize that my assumptions about her were right. She does not know shit about boxing. “How did you get stuck writing this article?” I finally ask her.

She comes clean. “The Morning Cup wants to take a new direction with their reporting style. You were right. The group is pretty much just a gossip style magazine, but they want to become more serious. I was one of the top gossip columnists, but they decided to get rid of those types of writings completely as they started in this new direction. I had to either become a sports writer or lose my job.”

“If you’re going to start writing about sports, you might want to study up a little more, sweetie,” I say. I smile at her, and I see her wince slightly, turn her head down embarrassingly, and softly clear her throat as though a nervous lump had formed.

“I know,” she admits, “this is supposed to be my first story, and I got so nervous. So many reporters at The Morning Cup have already lost their jobs in this transition. I just wanted to write something worth reading, and I fell into my old habits, I suppose. I wanted something juicy instead of just reporting the news. I’m sorry for giving you such a hard time. You actually gave me a pretty good answer to my question, though. I can’t believe you agreed to a private interview.”

I grin. “Well, for a pretty face like that, how couldn’t I?” She blushes again. I add, “Tell you what, if you ever need to ask a question about boxing, I’m your guy,” I snatched her pen away from her, our hands touching for a second. I can tell this makes her nervous. I don’t bother taking her notebook out of her lap; instead, I lean over and write down my number for her –a fake number, of course –I don’t want this nut job calling me all the time. I put the pen down, and I allow my hand to land on her knee.

Alison nervously picked her pen back up, and she says nothing about my hand. We go through a few more questions, and as we do we become increasingly friendly. Soon we’re sitting close enough to where our thighs are touching; I’m practically leaning over her as we speak.

I’ll admit it. I do this sort of thing a lot. I could probably write a book on the art of seduction. I’m good, and I know it. I mean, come one –I embarrassed this woman in front of a group of people, had her thrown out of a building, and made it pretty clear in the parking lot that I had a girlfriend yet here she is completely falling for the charm. “I think you’re going to do just fine with this article,” I tell her, pushing her notebook away and letting it slide onto the floor. “I wouldn’t worry too much.”

I offer her another smile, and I can see her melting. Her breathing has changed; her palms are slightly shaky. I decide to go for it; I lean in and let my lips linger, but I don’t go too much further. She gives me a peck and then pulls away, humiliated that she had been the one to cross the threshold. In one quick motion, I pull her legs out from under her and jump on top of her; she lays flat on her back on the futon staring back up at me. “Do you want it?” I ask her now that we’ve clearly broken all professional barriers.

She does not answer me with words; she grabs me by my shirt collar and pulls my face towards hers, slamming our lips together and slipping her tongue into my mouth. That a girl, I think to myself and get her out of her suit jacket and tight, black dress pants. I pull off her blouse, and I discover that I had been right about the push-up bra. She’s got on bright pink panties and a tan colored push up bra. “Mmm…” I say when I see her laid out on the futon. I remove my t-shirt that ironically says If you can’t go twelve rounds, you’ve not worth the fight across the front.

Her hands reach out, and she unzips my jeans and pulls out my hard cock that only gets harder with her touch. Her knees bend slightly in anticipation. I palm her between her legs, teasing her with my fingers for a minute before diving –shoving my shaft as far up into her as humanly possible. I think it’s pretty obvious that this woman doesn’t like me, but she’s sleeping with me anyways. Oddly enough, I’ve been in similar situations before, and it always winds up being really fun, rough sex –Alison is no different.

Fingernails and biting are a part of this rough, animalistic encounter. I slam hard into her, making her cry out with a mix of pleasure and pain. I bite down only somewhat gently on her nipples, and she goes nuts over it. I shove my arms up underneath her, pulling her hips up to get a better angle; I pinch her ass hard while my hands are down there. “Oh God… you’re going to kill me!” she shrieks excitedly. “Ugh, Jonathan, don’t stop! Don’t stop!”

I ride her until she’s raw and she starts quivering; a loud, orgasmic scream escapes her throat, but I’m not done with her yet. I pull out of her and tell her to turn over, and after such an orgasm she does so willingly. I pull her hips up towards me and press my wet cock into her ass. “Shit!” she hisses, probably not having expected that, but I shut her up by reaching my hand around to further stimulate her moist pussy. My other hand reaches around and grabs one of her breasts, squeezing and massaging it violently.

“Oh, God, I’m cumming!” she shrieks, and I certainly can confirm her claim by how wet my fingers have gotten. I can feel her insides throbbing around my fingers and my dick.

“You like it in the ass, don’t you, bitch?” I say, a little surprised at myself. I never get so raunchy in the bedroom –not with Brandi, at least. She’d probably punch me in my nuts if I called her a bitch while in bed, but I have at it with this stupid ass reporter.

“God, I do, I do!” she says, her hands sprawled out in front of her as she leans back, allowing me to slide into her even further. I can see her hands gripping the side of the futon, her voice panting. I practically have my entire hand up in her now, and she starts screaming all over again. She’s running out of breath, and I’m honestly surprised I’ve lasted this long. I pull out of her ass and turn her back over just in time to cum on her stomach. I grab her legs and lean down, sliding my tongue into her wet pussy just to make her scream one more time before we part ways. She does, and I wipe myself off and get dressed like nothing happened.

She does the same, and I can see a look of shame on her face. We part ways without saying another word to one another. I grin as I watch her rush to her car to put as much distance between us as possible. She’ll never tell a soul.