“For the record, Marek, it was not as bad as all that. I’m not a victim here.”
She levels me with a stare that could knock me down if I weren’t already sitting. “I knew that my gender might be an obstacle coming into this heavily male-dominated world of sports. Regardless of the legal precedents, lawsuits, and league policies, sexism and harassment are alive and well in sports.”
Harper lifts her shoulder so nonchalantly, as if she’s resigned to the fact there’s nothing that can be done. My stomach turns at the very thought.
“It’s a fact of life for women in this business. Is it fair? No, of course not. It is what it is. But if I ran to management every freaking time I heard an offending or sexist remark, or some guy smacked me on the butt or asked me out after an interview, all it would serve to do is tag me as a tattletale and put a black mark on my career. So, I’ve learned how to deal with it in my own way.”
As the head of the franchise and organization, it repulses me to hear her say that. I’ve done everything in my power to ensure that the women—and men—that I employ feel safe and free from harassment of any kind when they are representing the Pilots. If I hear one inkling of inappropriate sexual misconduct or sexism within my organization, I take immediate action.
I’m not saying Harper’s wrong in the way she chooses to handle it, but it’s the opposite of what I want to have happen. If that behavior is allowed to continue and the offender is given free rein to continue, it’ll happen over and over again.
I reach over and lay my palm over her knuckles, careful not to let my fingers wander onto any bare skin. She turns her hand palm up and offers it for me to hold. I slip my fingers through hers, our hands fitting perfectly in one another’s.
“Harper, it fucking makes me sad to hear you say that. If I were in your shoes…”
She spins her head toward me and gives me a look that saysyou’re an idiot.
“We’ve already determined that you’re not. And it’s a good thing,” she retorts with a laugh, lifting her foot and wiggling her toes.
“Touché. Well played.”
“It’s fine, Marek. I’ve learned how to respond to advances in a way that lets them down easy without hurting their big friggin egos and doesn’t make me come off as a bitch.”
“Jesus Christ, I don’t know what to say to that.”
Harper pats the top of my hand with hers. “I’m not a shrinking violet. I’ve played sports my entire life. I am strong and extremely competitive. And, honestly, this doesn’t happen as often as you think it does. Most of the players and staff I’ve interviewed are very professional and treat me with respect.”
I offer a tight smile, my forehead wrinkling. “Have I? Treated you with respect?”
The corners of her lips quirk up and her eyelashes flutter as she looks up at me. “The fact that you’re even asking, Marek, validates that point.” She slides her hips toward me, closing off the carefully created distance until her bare thigh brushes against my pant leg. She lays a hand on my thigh, her shiny auburn-streaked hair, that’s been straightened and smoothed for the evening, sways over her shoulder, the scent of cherry blossoms flooding my senses.
Lifting her face to mine, she curls a hand around my jaw, leans up, and kisses me on the lips. I inhale a long breath, but don’t dare make a move.
Harper’s calling the shots now. The ball is in her court. While there is nothing I’d like more than to lift her over my lap and ravage her mouth with mine, I’m not going to make a costly mistake like the one I made last night.
She runs her fingers over the five o’clock shadow left behind from my shave, tracing it over my lips, underneath my chin, then dipping to my Adam’s apple, and finally settling on my chest.
“Let me make this perfectly clear so you don’t have to ask any more questions.” Harper licks her dewy lips, tilting her head to the side, her eyes shining with intensity. “You are nothing like Milton or any other man who has propositioned me over the years. They are nowhere in your league.”
Harper drags her hand lower still, toying with the buttons of my crisp white dress shirt until they stop at the waistband where the shirt tucks into my pants. My cock begins to twitch at the proximity of her touch, and I know if I don’t put a stop to this insanity right now, I will lose all control and be inside her in minutes.
I cover her hand with mine but leave it where it is for the moment. “Harper…”
She grins. “I know. We don’t have time right now. But later, after we return from our fake date, I want you to know that I won’t be faking it when I let you kiss me goodnight. Or when you take me to bed.”
That’s it. All my restraint vanishes.
I cup her jaw and drag her mouth to mine. My tongue plunders her mouth, giving her clear and explicit instructions as to what she can expect from me later.
Because there will be a later.