TouchBack (BWWM, Billionaire, Sports, Pregnancy) by Tamara Adams Page A

most ridiculously sensational paper in the city. The pay was awful and it didn't do much for her career ambitions, but it was a job. When they'd made the offer, her aspirations had sank like a stone.
                  But she'd taken it.             
                  The past year had been spent on research and fact checking. Basic grunt work for a newbie. She'd been prepared to do that of course, she'd just been hoping to do it at the New York Times .
                  Today was different though. Today, she had a chance to finally earn her stripes. Not that it was a choice assignment. It wasn’t.
                  But it was hers.
                  This was her first solo assignment. There was no way she was going to mess this up. She even had a chance to get out of the downward career trajectory. But only if she could blow the lid off of the lackadaisical attitude most athletes had toward steroid use.
                  Too bad she wanted to throw up all over her one pair of expensive, heavily repaired black leather heels.
                  She climbed out of the car and straightened her fitted black blazer. She'd worn a skirt suit. She knew she looked good in it. Besides, she needed to look serious to get the players to respect her.
                  "I'm here from The Post."
                  She flashed her Press Badge to the security guard and made her way inside.

2.
     
     
     
     
                  Stockard was just toweling off when he heard it. A woman's voice. A really sexy woman's voice.
                  He wasn't sure what it was exactly that set him off. The intelligence he heard. The persistence. The rich and smoky tone. But there it was.
                  He had a hard on for the first time in ages.
                  The locker room was not a great place to get a boner.
                  He frowned and wrapped another towel around his waist. He would just get dressed and see who the hell that voice belonged to. No harm, no foul.
                  Especially since he was the only one in the showers at the moment.
                  The player's gym locker room was divided by rows of lockers. It was separate from his game locker. He started dressing, trying to ignore the soft, melodious voice that was coming from nearby.
                  It was funny how much you could tell from someone's voice. The woman speaking just out of sight sounded utterly feminine, but with a core of solid steel. He grimaced and tucked his erection firmly into his pants.
                  Hell, maybe he did need to get laid.
                  That's when he saw her. Or rather, she saw him.
                  "Oh, I'm sorry."
                  His heart stopped.
                  He had his answer. The voice belonged to one of the most beautiful woman he'd ever laid eyes on. Petite and fit but curvy, her rich brown skin looked like silk.
    The woman literally glowed.
    Her hair was long and straight, her eyes seductively titled ovals, her lips pouty and her face, perfection. That didn't even start to cover it.
                  He hadn't even started to check out her body.
                  Long slender legs, generous hips and a tiny waist all led up to two glorious globes. To say that she was the feminine ideal was an understatement. She must be a bikini model. He grinned at her foolishly.
                  It was time to break his streak.
                  Most definitely.
                  Maybe even more than once.
                  The woman held out her hand and smiled at him cooly.
                  "Mr. Manning, my name is Veronica Franklin. I'm here to interview some team members. Do you have a moment?"