Chapter 3 Mae #2
My mind spins, trying to figure out a way to make this work in me and Elsie’s favor so that I don’t ever have to return to my casino job.
"One, you just got me fired from my job, so after this gig is done, I’m still unemployed.
I want you to pay for the startup costs for me to open my own sports PR firm, the first three months’ rent at the location of my choosing, any licensing costs and anything else that goes into getting this business running.
I can handle the legal side of things with my education, but the location and startup costs are on you. ”
“Done,” he says so simply as if money was never a consideration in this discussion. “What’s next?”
“How much are you going to pay me for this gig?”
“How much do you want?”
I try to think of a number that will set Elsie and me up for at least the next year, but I come up empty. I’m not even sure what a PR firm would charge for something like this, and I don’t want to lowball myself or aim too high.
“How much were you going to pay a firm?” I ask, folding my arms over my chest.
“You’re a master negotiator already. I like it,” Dexter says, leaning back with a grin. “I was prepared to pay $20,000 a month to a top PR firm. You’re new, so here’s the deal: impress me. Make this story disappear in one month, and I’ll pay you a flat $50,000—and help you start your own firm.”
My jaw drops. Okay, I told myself I’d play it cool, but hearing that number leaves me reeling. For someone who just quit her job and has been scraping by since being cut off from her wealthy family, fifty grand would be life changing.
“Okay…” I manage to squeak out, trying not to look like I’m about to jump out of my skin with excitement. Spoiler: I’m failing miserably, and he notices.
His smirk deepens, clearly amused. “Does that meet your standards?”
I nod quickly, maybe too quickly. “I… Yeah. That’s fine.”
“And the last thing?”
I swallow hard and force myself to meet his gaze.
“You help me bring in new business. I’m starting from nothing.
If you’ve got friends in the sports world who want to break free from the big-ten PR firms, send them my way.
I’ll make it worth their time and expense.
I’ll even give you free services for every referral.
And I swear, if this works, I won’t just treat it like a job.
I’ll immerse myself in sports. I’ll learn everything—every stat, every team, even the rules of sports that I don’t understand yet. ”
Dexter studies me for a moment before his smile widens. He holds out his hand. “Deal. Now let’s eat.”
It takes everything in me not to pump my fist in the air like I’ve just won the lottery because hell, that’s exactly how it feels right now. Instead, I shake his hand, steady and firm, like someone who knows exactly what they’re doing and for once, I believe he does—even if I don’t.
***
The next hour is a whirlwind of playful banter and meticulous planning as Dexter, and I brainstorm his press release over the lavish room service spread.
Between bites of buttery croissants and sips of freshly squeezed orange juice, we work through what he’s comfortable revealing about his relationship with Mara and their son.
“Obviously, we’ll change her name in the statement,” I say, scribbling notes on hotel stationery.
He nods, his expression serious.
By the time noon rolls around, I’ve got a solid plan sketched out and can barely wait to get back to my laptop to organize it properly. I glance at my watch and realize I’ve got only thirty minutes before I told Sienna I’d be home to relieve her and take over with Elsie.
“I should probably head out,” I say, standing and brushing crumbs off my lap. “I need to get this down in writing and see my daughter.”
Dexter stands too, walking me to the door of the suite. But just before opening it, he hesitates.
“Hey,” he says softly, his tone shifting. “I know I joke around and tease, call myself a proud man-whore or whatever, but I need you to know something. I really did care about Mara. And I care about you.”
My stomach tightens, and I look up at him, startled.
“I picked you for this job because I can tell you’re a good person, Mae,” he continues, pointing to my chest. “Inside there, you’ve got a big heart and a fire that life hasn’t been able to extinguish despite the circumstances you’ve been placed in.
What I saw at that casino? That fight? That’s not something you fake.
You’ve been through hell, and you’re still standing.
Vance Jones really screwed up when he lost someone like you. ”
I blush furiously, caught off guard by the raw sincerity in his words. Compliments have always made me uncomfortable, but if you pair one with a dig at Vance? That’s a straight shot to my heart.
“You knew Vance?” I ask, unable to hide my curiosity.
He nods, his lips twisting into a faint smirk. “Our paths crossed a few times during college ball and when he first got drafted. Let’s just say the guy was a cheating, gloating pig who didn’t deserve you.”
Before I can overthink it, I rise onto my toes and press a soft kiss to his cheek.
His arms wrap around my waist, holding me there, and when our eyes meet, something shifts.
Slowly—like we’re in one of those cheesy romance movies I’d never admit to loving—his lips find mine.
The kiss starts gentle, appreciatively, but when his tongue nudges against my lips, I part them, letting him in.
It’s been a long time since I’ve been kissed like this, and as much as I’d sworn off athletes—especially football players—Dexter seems different.
He’s made it clear he’s not interested in a serious relationship while in the league, and honestly, that suits me just fine.
A casual hookup is all I’m looking for right now.
Maybe it’s the champagne from earlier, or maybe it’s the way he looks at me like I’m the only person in the world when I speak, but sleeping with Dexter feels like more than just a wildly unplanned decision.
It feels like taking a piece of myself back.
Maybe even a little retribution for everything Vance put me through.
And maybe that’s why I decide to just go with it and not overthink things as his hand skirts underneath my shirt and his thumbs brush against the bare skin of my stomach.
I’m sure my thinking is irrational right now, but how do you think rationally when two hundred pounds of pure muscle and rock-solid cock are pressed up against your thigh?
The answer is you don’t. You just go with it.
I run my fingers through his hair, gripping it gently as I pull him closer, deepening the kiss. My teeth nip at his lower lip, drawing a low growl from Dexter that vibrates against me.
He pulls back just enough to look into my eyes, his breath hot and ragged.
“Is sleeping with my new publicist off-limits?” he asks, his voice rough with want. His hands tighten on my hips, holding me firmly in place as he grinds his hard cock against me, leaving no doubt about how ready he is.
I shake my head, a silent but clear invitation, and that’s all the permission he needs. In one swift motion, he lifts me effortlessly, tossing me over his shoulder like I weigh nothing. His large hands splay possessively across my thighs as he strides toward the bedroom he’d slept in last night.
The next thing I know, I’m flat on my back, sinking into the plush mattress, his massive frame looming over me. Dexter’s hands find my hips again, and with a sharp, deliberate tug, he tears my cheap, barely-there uniform skirt away like it’s offended him by existing.
“I’ve been wanting to rip this pitiful excuse for a uniform off you all damn night,” he growls, his voice thick with hunger as he pulls my shirt over my head in one fluid motion.
Now I’m lying beneath him in nothing but my bra and underwear, his heated gaze roaming over every inch of me. A wicked smile curls at his lips before his fingers hook into my panties and tear them away as if they’re just as offensive as the skirt.
“Oh!” I gasp, the sound barely escaping before his mouth is on me, his tongue sliding between my thighs with a precision that sends electricity surging through my body.
My back arches, hands fisting in the sheets as he works me over with relentless focus, his name slipping from my lips in a breathless moan.
No wonder the man has a reputation for being generous in the bedroom—he’s practically a magician with his tongue.
The tension builds fast and hot, my skin tingling and every nerve ending firing as he pushes me closer to the edge.
“It’s just this once,” I say breathlessly while his tongue fucks into my opening, “then we go straight back to being professional.”
He hums in agreement which only pushes me closer to the brink of my orgasm and when it does, it’s the best one that I’ve had in years. Maybe this is what I needed to start fresh and get back in the saddle. A new job, and a quick orgasm to clear my mind and body.
Yeah, I think I could get used to working with Dexter Black…