Groupie

VOLUME 2: GROUPIE"Hey Rookie! How have your first couple of weeks been?"I look over as Daniel Zavaro sits down on the bar stool next to mine. All I've ever wanted since I could walk is play soccer for a living and now I am. A lot of people would say it was inevitable. Or that I didn't have to work as hard as the others. They may think they know my dad. But they don't really know him. Or me. And they have no idea the effort I've put in to distance myself from his reputation so I could make one for myself. I'm not ashamed to admit I'm really proud of what I've accomplished. "Really good so far. Thanks for asking." Daniel has been captain of the Texas Mutiny, the team I now play for, for a few years. Not only is he a kick ass forward, he's really respected in the league for being a stand up guy. Family man. Local legend. All around fantastic leader. I was really excited when I found out I was going to be working with him. The biggest scandal he's been involved in his entire career is

"Hmmm. Hmmm. Hmmm." I try to concentrate despite the humming right next to my ear. This happens every time Santos LaGuajardo and I hook up. He's not a terrible lover. But when he's getting close but isn't quite to the goal yet, he hums. I should be used to it by now, but it's distracting every time.Instead, I focus on the slick thrust of his cock and the sound of flesh on flesh. Those are the things that turn me on.His lips find mine and his tongue plunges in my mouth, mimicking the motion of the rest of his body. "Are you getting close?" he whispers against my mouth."Yeah," I whisper back. "Tilt your hips just a little bit…oh yeah. Right there." I kiss him again and he goes back to humming, this time while his tongue is in my mouth.Just then the door opens and Mack Shivel walks in, closing the door behind him."Fuck!" Santos curses and stops his movement, glaring at Mack as he takes a seat in the chair next to the window. Consequently, my chase for the Big O ends as well. "Every f

"Rowen!" My dad's voice booms through the computer. "What's the craic, boyo?"I smile as he sits back and comes on the screen, his flaming red hair sticking up in all directions. No one has ever questioned my paternity. From our bright blue eyes to our lily white skin to the hair…the famous hair…there is no question who my father is. But our looks and our soccer skills are the only ways we're similar. Our personalities are very, very different. He's loud and boisterous. I'm quiet and some think shy. He's the life of the party. I'm the one who observes the party from the outskirts. When he was in his prime, he got lots of press and reveled in it. I'm happy to watch my teammates take the glory. So yeah, personality traits…those I got from my Mam.Despite all our differences, in a lot of ways my dad is my best friend. We used to tour with him when he was in the European league so he was always around. Once he retired and we moved to Detroit, he coached every single one of my teams until

The door clicks and unlocks as I put my key fob up to the electronic pad. I push my way in and head straight for the assignments desk, toting my messenger bag and lunch kit with me.Dropping it on the floor next to the oversized cubicle, I greet my friend Caleb."Why is it so quiet in here? Where is everyone?" I ask as I grab a handful of papers from my company mail box and begin to sort through them.He doesn't look up from his computer. "It's been a strange day. Almost all the reporters had stuff set up for tonight so they're out shooting already. And there are a couple photogs downstairs waiting for something to happen, but the scanners have been really quiet."I snicker as I toss some random press releases in the recycle bin. "You know what that means for tonight....""Do. Not. Say it." He swivels his chair so he can face me. I open my mouth like I'm gonna say it. "Don't say it!""Breakingnews," I say as fast as I can with a laugh.He groans and puts his hands over his face. "I hat

I rap my knuckles on the door of the apartment twice and wait for it to be answered. I'm late. I know. But I needed extra time to ice down my legs after today's practice. Practices seem to be getting harder, not easier. I understand, though. We're in the middle of a season and playoffs are coming up. I have to be in tip-top shape in case one of our starters gets injured.Looking around, I make a note of the area. It's a pretty nice neighborhood. Inside the loop. Close to the stadium. It's actually not that far from where I live, which is information I'll keep to myself.While most of the newer teammates, like myself, have at least a thirty minute drive to work and have at least one roommate, I live alone in a garage apartment just ten minutes away. Having a dad with lots of connections comes in handy sometimes. Which is not something I will fess up to tonight.The door swings open to reveal Daniel, my team captain, grinning widely with a lit cigar in his mouth."Welcome to poker night,