Chapter Four

Olivia

I can"t believe my luck. Five days ago I was thinking about how to get an exclusive interview from Jesse Edison—and now here I am! About to interview one of sports most talented men in town. Not to mention arrogant.

Ok, and maybe a little hot, too.

I scribble some questions that came to me during the night, in my notepad, and check my recorder to make sure it works. Today"s the first day of the interview and everything has to be perfect.

I hop into the shower, then afterwards put on a pair of blue jeans and a white casual shirt. As I brush my hair, I remember the conversation Jesse and I had in the kitchen. What the heck did he mean by "his terms?" If he thinks I"m going to sleep with him, then he"s got another thing coming.

Hal says to keep an open mind, so I"ll try and do that. I head downstairs to make breakfast for myself, as Hal and Jesse have gone for a run. They walk in just as I"m eating the last bite of my toast and eggs Benedict. My fork doesn't quite reach my open mouth as I stare, wide eyed, at the panting and sweaty tall basketball player enter the cabin before me. His hair is disheveled and his arms and shoulders look mighty toned. His little tush in those shorts … I can almost see the outline of his … Oh my …

"Hey, sis ... leave any for me?" Hal says, as he removes his shoes, breaking me from my reverie. Jesse looks at me, looking at him, making me blush slightly. Jesse beams that smile at me in response.

Damn!

I pick up my plate and move over to the sink to wash up. "I thought you had breakfast before your run?"

"Nah, I'm starving now though. Jesse, do you want some eggs?"

"I'm ravenous," Jesse says, still looking at me with a smile. He wipes his brow with his arm and walks over to the sink.

"Can I just grab some water?" He leans across me to fill an empty glass with tap water and drinks the whole lot next to me. I can feel the heat and smell the perspiration radiating from his body.

"Thanks." he says to me and holds my gaze for a second longer than anticipated. I stand there looking at him with a mix of emotions.

When I heard him coming down the stairs with Hal yesterday, my guard was up. Hal must have told him about the interview so I expected him to have an attitude. But he has been quite the opposite. Ever since yesterday he has been charming, disarming and not to mention helpful around the cabin; like the way he offered to do the dishes last night. Jesse Edison is indeed a fine specimen. Was that why the tabloids hated him? Because they were jealous? I haven't made my mind up about him just yet, especially with the strange conditions he's mentioned.

"So what"s next for today? Liv, do you want to ..." Hal"s phone rings, interrupting him. He frowns and reaches into his pocket for it.

"Hal Torres speaking ... what? When did they arrive? Well we can"t keep them waiting ... it"s alright ..."

"Is something wrong, Hal?" I ask as he ends the phone call.

"My business partners from Japan are at work, and I have to get to Los Angeles as soon as possible." Jesse and I look at one another, the realization that the rest of our holiday will be spent together. Just the two of us. There's an awkward silence that passes between the three of us. "I"m sorry guys, but you"ll have to enjoy the rest of the weekend without me. I can come back but it"ll be in five days or so. Liv, can you stay till then? I really want us to spend some time together."

"Of course, she can. We both can. It'll give us time to get to know each other better, isn't that right Olivia?" Jesse interjects, my legs beneath me about to give way at the very thought.

"I"ll call my office and tell them. Technically I"m on an assignment so I"m sure they won"t mind."

"Excellent. I need to get packed and out of here," he says, and runs upstairs.

"So ... I guess it"s just me and you for a while." Jesse says.

"Yes, I guess so. I suppose we could make a start on that interview today?" I tentatively ask, trying not to push my luck too much.

"I"m game but remember that I told you it would be on my terms."

"Yes. I remember. And what does that mean, exactly?"

"It means for every two questions you ask me, you"ll have to answer one of mine."

What? Why?!

"I"m doing an exclusive on you, Mr. Edison ... not the other way around."

"It"s Jesse, and those are my terms. It"s up to you. But I don"t think it"ll look good on your record if you fail your first assignment ... especially when I was within your grasp." He looks at me again, grinning, his beautiful dark brown eyes twinkling with mischief.

I want to punch that silly grin off his beautiful face.

He steps closer and smiles. "You look pretty when you blush."

"Who"s blushing?" I shift uneasily beneath his gaze. "Fine ... we can do that." I say, standing straight and trying to establish my position as the confident and professional journalist I know I am. "I"ll just grab my pen and paper."

"How about we see Hal off first? Besides, I'll need a shower after my run, before we begin." Jesse says looking at the stairs as Hal comes down with his bag.

"Let"s see you off to the airport. I"ll give you a ride."

"It's fine. My office sent a car. He's here now."

I look out the window and notice a black estate car on the driveway. Hal hugs me and shakes Jesse"s hand before leaving.

***

An hour later, Jesse and I are seated in the dining room. I"m holding a pen and writing pad. I turn on my recorder.

"Wait." He says placing his hand on mine. "We do this off the record."

"This is standard procedure and ..."

"My terms, remember?"

I sigh and turn the recorder off. "Ok. First question, Jesse. Tell me about yourself."

"Oh, you'll have to do better than that. Why don't you dig a little deeper? Don't you want to know what makes me … tick?"

My patience is starting to recede. He isn't going to make this at all easy for me. I can see his resolve and I wish, for the umpteenth time, that I had been given another assignment. "Ok. Tell me about your childhood." Jesse raises an eyebrow at me. "Look, the point of this is for people to find out about the real you."

"Ok, well. Let's see. My name is Jesse Nicholas Edison and I"m from Chicago, Illinois. I grew up in Chicago before moving to New York at the age of 15." This information tells me nothing about him whatsoever. He's right, I need to dig deeper …

"What about your parents? Did they motivate you to play basketball or ..."

"My parents are dead. My mom died giving birth to me and my dad ..." His voice breaks. He shakes his head as if remembering something painful and continues. "I was adopted. I grew up in foster care."

"I"m sorry ... I didn"t know." I genuinely am. I wonder why Hal never told me? I presume Hal knows this about his best friend. This is the first time I've seen this side to Jesse. He's vulnerable but yet obliging me with this intimate detail about his life, despite never giving interviews. Why now? Why me?! This is big. This is huge!

"It"s fine. Lots of people don"t and I would have liked to keep it that way. I was left in an orphanage with nothing but a name written on a piece of paper. Jesse. When I was two, a couple adopted me. I lived with them for a while but it was a pretty rough household.

"Childcare services took me away from the home when I was five and sent me to live with the nicest couple you could ever wish to meet, Mr. and Mrs. David Edison. He was a huge basketball fan with tons of basketball gear and pictures of Wilt Chamberlain and Larry Bird all over the house." Jesse smiles and looks down at his hands as he reminisces about his childhood. He looks up at me and continues. "My parents always encouraged me to play. I have always loved basketball and they could see that I had a natural flare for it. They would give up their weekends to drive me to matches, support me at every game. After my first match, I never looked back. I have my adoptive parents to thank for all of it. They helped me become the man I am today."

"Wow ... that"s ... amazing." Hal was right. I didn"t expect this. The way his eyes teared up when he spoke of them was so endearing. But why didn"t he want people to know the real him?

I probe carefully, asking about his journey in basketball, the challenges he faced, and the moments that defined him. Slowly, the veneer of the guarded celebrity begins to fade and I see him differently. We talk for hours. I"m grateful for everything he's revealed. Yet, I want to know more.

"Whoa ... look at the time ... " I say, as I glance at the clock. It's now 5 pm. "I"ll make dinner for us."

"I"ll help. I haven"t asked any of my questions ... don"t think I forgot!"

The next two days continue in the same vein, as Jesse talks about his life and career journey. I quickly realize he isn't the arrogant asshole portrayed by the media. He may come across like that, on the face of it, but digging deeper has revealed a really genuine guy. I never thought he would be so open with me, sharing his personal life and vulnerability.

"One last question." He smiles and nods. "Jesse, how do you deal with the constant scrutiny and judgment from the public and media? I think I understand now why you don"t grant interviews but I"m just intrigued that you let them get away with writing stories about you that frankly aren't true."

He takes in a deep breath and blows it out. "It"s tough, I"m not gonna lie. I"ve been judged my whole career. People often see the success and the fame, but they rarely understand the sacrifices and struggles. I"ve learned to embrace both the highs and lows, and I strive to stay true to who I am. What they say doesn"t change who I am."

"But don"t you agree that it could prevent people from getting to know you? And what about business deals? Doesn"t the false reputation out there affect your brand? If you could just come out once and debunk ..."

"People will believe whatever they want to believe no matter what I say. Besides, it"s the media. Anyone with an ounce of common sense will know that you shouldn"t believe everything you read and hear. The sensible business owners come to me directly. I still work with Nike, Ferrari, and Adidas."

I look at him closely and find myself drawn to his authenticity. He's dismantled every preconceived notion I had of him, dreamt up by the media, with each honest admission revealing a depth of character that transcends the basketball court. The initial skepticism I had about meeting him and his personality were gone. All that is left is a deep sense of respect and admiration.

He looks at me and our eyes lock for a few seconds. My pulse is racing. No one has ever looked at me like that before. Like I belonged to him. The cabin suddenly feels hot even though it was beginning to snow outside.

"I uh … I think I better start making dinner," I say, grabbing my notepad and go to stand up.

He stands too, then takes my hand. His grip is tight but firm. "Not so fast. Now it"s my turn to question you."

I'm standing in front of him, and we're close. So close that our chests almost touch. I look pointedly at him.

"First question," he begins. "What was your first impression of me? Be honest."

"Alright … to be honest, I thought you were arrogant."

"And?" He moves closer and I feel my insides turning to mush. He smells so good I could devour him.

"And … I wanted to find out if what the tabloids had said about you were true." I look from his mouth into his deep dark eyes that are now boring into mine.

"Are they true or are they false, Olivia?"

"A few days isn"t enough time to …" He grabs me and kisses me, digging his fingers into my hair. I have never felt such warmth before as his hands travel all over my body. I let the writing pad fall out of my hands as I feverishly kiss him back, my hands in his hair.

He pins me to the wall and kisses me harder now. His hands work at my shirt, his frustration obvious as he rips the buttons in order to free my breasts. His hand reaches under my bra as he grabs and squeezes my left breast. I help him remove my jeans, leaving me in just my underwear. I take off his shirt and run my hands down his well-toned abs. He picks me up and places me on the dining room table, knocking down the flower vase and table mats. I unravel the straps of his slacks, allowing them to fall to the floor.

A loud moan escapes my mouth as his lips are on me again. One hand is around my throat and his other hand is against my groin. He slowly pulls my panties to the side, as I groan into his mouth. He pushes three fingers into me thrusting in and out and setting my entire body on fire. He rips my bra from my body and grabs my right breast with his hand, then begins sucking and licking my nipple.

"You"re perfect Olivia. God, I have wanted you since the very first moment I saw you."

Jesse then kneels between my legs and looks up at me. "Put your feet on the table. That's it, like that. Good girl," he purrs as I do as he asks. He looks up at me and licks his lips. I sit there, on the dining room table, in anticipation at what might happen next. He pulls my legs slightly further apart and begins to feast on me, holding me by my waist to keep me steady.

I scream as Jesse licks me, softly at first, then he increases the pace. Sometimes flicking my clitoris with the tip of his tongue, then other times licking me with the flat of his tongue. Then, he uses his fingers to fuck me, pushing slow and hard at my clitoris bringing me close to the edge. Just as I am about to explode in ecstasy, I feel his large rod inside me. I open my eyes and look at his face. He is in ecstasy, just the same as me.

"Jesse! Ohh!"

I hold both sides of the dining table as Jesse moves in and out of me, slowly at first, then swiftly, making my whole body shake.

He pushes harder inside me and tightly holds my waist as we both ride the waves of a passionate climax. He groans as he pushes deeper until every last bit of his orgasm is inside of me. I let my own orgasm escape by screaming loudly, my arm around his neck holding his head close to my chest. He slumps down beside me on the table and we both smile and drink in the afterglow.