Okay I know I shouldn't be starting another story but I swear I'm feeling a brand new dedication to my writing and this, along with Truth In Deceit and Lonely Hearts Club will be updated much more regularly. Disclaimer: I own Jordan Wyatt, Jason Garrett, The Cartwright's, and any original characters that come later. Obviously, I don't own anyone else or anything to do with the WWE. This story will be a bit more mature in nature than my others so beware, smutty scenes ahead. Hope you enjoy!
Jordan Wyatt fanned herself with a stack of paper while holding an ice cold bottle of SmartWater to the back of her neck with the other, trying desperately to remind herself why she was always telling people she loved her job. She got to do what she loved every day. She co-hosted a sports radio show on the station that she listened to as a kid. She got to work with one of her dearest friends from college: Jason Garrett. She was actually making use of her college degree so..that was good. Unfortunately, at that moment, the air conditioning was out in the building and it was about 90 degrees inside. She made a mental note to send Matt Bryant, their other host, an angry text, reprimanding him for being on his honeymoon while the rest of them were suffering through an indoor heat wave. Jason and Jordan were filling in for the normal mid-day show, recording from 1-6 instead of their normal 6-10 while the normal hosts were both on vacation. It was a privilege to be asked to cover such a prime spot but on a day like this, they both would have preferred their slightly cooler evening slot.
"Alright," Jason walked into the room carrying a small wastebasket. "This is all the ice I could find."
"It'll do for now," Jordan opened her water and resisted the urge to pour it over the top of her head. She took a long drink instead.
Jason tapped the bottom of her bottle, nearly causing her to get that 'down the wrong pipe' feeling. He broke into a fit of what could only be described as giggles as she nearly coughed up a lung. When she regained her breath, she put the top back on her bottle and then threw it at his foot, hitting him in the big toe.
"Damn it Jo!" He jumped, glaring at her.
This time she broke into the giggles. Jason was like a brother to her. She'd met him as a high school junior when both of them were accepted into Northwestern University's exclusive Medill Journalism School Cherub Program for high school journalists. They became fast friends and took quite a few classes together when they attended Northwestern after high school. She was just as close to Jason as she was to her biological brother Wesley and they bickered accordingly.
"That's what you get," she pointed, giving him her best angry glare.
"There will be retaliation," Jason warned, pointing back at her. "Anyway, I just heard we've got a guest."
"What?" Jordan stared. "They're actually having someone come in here today? Are we trying to make sure they never come back?"
Jason shrugged, "Got me. It's some kind of last minute thing. I left my headphones down in the office. I'm gonna go get 'em. You need anything out of there?"
"Another shirt if I have one," she said, holding her shirt away from her body. She hated the feeling of sweat sticking her clothes to her skin.
"I'll do my best," he laughed, walking out of the office.
"Hey, who's the guest?" she called after him but he was already gone. She shrugged it off. She would find out eventually. This happened a lot in their business. They would book guests or interviews at the last minute and hosts just had to roll with it. It was one of the things that made it fun. She wasn't sure she was going to make it five hours in this heat though.
Jordan put her head down on the desk, closing her eyes, pretending it was the dead of Chicago winter. She imagined the icy winds, snow and sleet on the ground. Unfortunately, her attempt to persuade herself that it wasn't sweaty hot in the studio didn't work at all. She wondered how long it would take her freezer to make enough ice to fill her bathtub when she got home. The heat had gotten up to 95 and Jason decided to play a 15 minute interview from the morning show with new Bears receiver Brandon Marshall. That gave them a little time to breathe before their guest showed up. Jason had gone outside, insisting that it was cooler out there than in the studio. Jordan felt drained of all energy and decided to sit with her face in front of the fan they were only able to use when they were off the air. She looked terrible so she hoped the guest wasn't anybody too important. They'd been teasing it the whole show but Jordan still didn't even know who it was. Their program director was keeping it a surprise for some reason. The loose, gauzy tunic she'd worn that day was clinging to her body and the denim shorts she was wearing were just making her that much more uncomfortable. She bit her lip trying to come up with a solution. She looked at the seat she normally used and the gigantic desk in front of it. If she took the shorts off, no one would be the wiser. She decided the less clothes the better and unbuttoned her shorts, shimmying them down her legs.
"It's really awesome to meet you Mr. Brooks…A lot of us around here are huge fans. Sorry about the heat. We're working on getting it fixed."
Phil smiled as the production assistant, who hadn't told him his name, led him off of the elevator and down a hallway.
"You can call me Phil," he said. "Or Punk. Hell, just about anything but Mr. Brooks."
"Sorry, force of habit," the young man smiled over his shoulder. "Some of the guys we get in here are real sticklers for being referred to formally."
Phil didn't doubt that. People who considered themselves 'famous' were often really weird about things like that. Phil was just happy to be there. He was off for a day and called his friend Derek that worked for Chicago's sports radio station WSCR-The Score to see what he was doing that day. Derek was a producer on the mid-day show and asked him to come in for an interview. He was hoping to get on as a host one day and said it would make him look good if he showed he could bring in someone famous for an interview. Phil didn't have anything better to do so..here he was.
"That's the studio right there," the assistant pointed to the end of the hall. "I just got a text I've gotta run back downstairs. They're expecting you in there."
"Thanks man," Phil held out his hand. "What was your name?"
"Blake," the young man smiled.
"Nice to meet you Blake," Phil shook his head before walking in the direction Blake had indicated. The door was ajar and he pushed it open, stopping when he saw something completely unexpected. Usually the mid-day show was Boers and Bernstein, two middle aged guys who yelled at half of the people that called into their show. They were entertaining though so it worked. Phil did not find himself looking at Terry Boers or Dan Bernstein. In the middle of the studio was a woman with her back to him. She was young, as best he could tell, with a very nice body, perfect looking caramel skin. She was wearing a long, thin strapped white shirt that hung to the middle of her thighs and was in the process of stepping out of a pair of small denim shorts. She had long, black hair that was dark brown toward the ends and when she straightened up, she held it up off of her neck, twisting her long waves into a messy bun on top of her head. She had toned, curvy legs that were shining with sweat. Phil couldn't say he wasn't enjoying the show but he was starting to feel a little invasive so he cleared his throat, making his presence known.
"Don't you think we should get to know each other better first?" he smirked.
The woman jumped, turning around, her beautiful face quickly morphed into a mortified expression. She had big warm brown eyes, high cheekbones, a thin nose and full lips. Her cheeks started to flush immediately, "Oh my God. I am so sorry."
"No need to apologize," he laughed. "I walked in on you."
"I have panties on, I swear," she leaned over to pick up her shorts, giving him a quick glimpse of a lacy purple bra.
Phil laughed, amused at her nervousness, "I wouldn't expect any less."
"Oh yeah, I'm all class," she gestured down at herself, seeming to relax a little. "I don't normally do this but…it's like sweaty balls hot in here."
Phil laughed, "I noticed."
"Hey Jordan, Derek said our guest should be up here any minute."
Phil looked to his left, seeing a young man he vaguely recognized enter the room from the other side. Once he got closer, he recognized him as Jason Garrett. He'd met him before at a Bulls game when Jason was working as a sideline reporter. They weren't exactly friends but he'd seen him around the city from time to time and they always said hi.
"I see we're not looking for extra clothes anymore," Jason laughed, looking the young woman up and down.
"Obviously not," she shrugged, hands on her hips. Phil couldn't help but admire how comfortable she was being essentially half naked in front of a stranger.
Jason seemed to notice Phil's presence and smiled coming over and shaking his hand, "Hey man. I didn't know you were the guest today."
"I didn't know you were hosting," Phil laughed.
"You know each other?" she asked.
"Yeah, I met him at a Bulls game a couple years ago," Jason explained. "I told you about it. You probably weren't listening."
"Sounds about right," she smirked.
Phil stared at her for a moment, trying to figure out who she was. Then, he made the connection. This was Jordan Wyatt. He'd heard her on the radio a bunch of times but hadn't ever actually seen what she looked like. She had a nice voice but he'd always just assumed that she had a face for radio. In addition to her show on The Score, she did a wrestling podcast with a couple of guys that he listened to every once in a while. He'd always thought she was smart and funny. Apparently, she was also hot.
"I'm Phil Brooks," he introduced himself.
"Jordan Wyatt," she smiled, waving. "I would shake your hand but I think you and I are past that."
"I think you're right," he laughed as they all moved toward the desk where the mics and chairs were set up. He spotted a pack of Starburst on the table. The individual candies were spread out on the table, still in their wrapping, in order by color. Jordan sat in the seat closest to them, picking one up and unwrapping it.
He smirked up at Jordan, "You're one of those?"
She grinned, popping the candy into her mouth, "The pink ones are my favorite."
"Okay ladies and gentleman, along with complaining about how gross it is in here, we've been teasing a special surprise guest all show and it's time to bring him on," Jason said, pressing a button. He nodded to the producer who played the opening bars of "Cult of Personality".
"That's right folks, we are being joined by none other than WWE Champion, Chicago's own CM Punk," Jordan said, smiling over at Phil. "Thanks for comin' in today Punk."
"Thanks for having me guys," Phil said. "It's nice to be home. It only took me like 15 minutes to get here today."
"Then you obviously live closer than I do," Jason laughed.
They talked for a few minutes about what was going on in Punk's storyline with Chris Jericho and took a few phone calls from fans.
"Now Punk, I have to make sure you're aware that Jordan here is a huge fan of yours," Jason smiled.
Jordan's eyes widened and she could feel her cheeks getting red as she glared at Jason, "Oh really? You're gonna go there?"
She made a point to never fangirl out in front of any of the athletes she met no matter how much she liked them. Being a woman in her field, there were lots of reasons why that wasn't the greatest idea. Truthfully, she was a big fan of Punk. She thought the Summer of Punk was the greatest thing to happen to the wrestling business in a long time.
"Absolutely we're gonna go there," Jason laughed.
"You know I actually knew that," Phil said, drawing Jordan's eyes away from her friend. "I've heard a few of her podcasts."
Jordan stared, surprised. She and Matt did a weekly wrestling podcast that was hosted on their show's website.
"You have?" she asked.
"I have," he confirmed, smiling at her. "In fact I distinctly remember a show where you longed for the return of the hair bra."
Jordan laughed out loud and had to lean away from her microphone. She recovered quickly, "You heard that?"
"I did," he nodded. "And I have to say, I agree that it was magical but..it was pretty difficult to maintain."
He laughed and Jordan joined him. His laugh was a strangely infectious sound.
"I can't believe you listen to our podcast," she shook her head.
"Believe it," he said. "It's pretty awesome. And there's a real lack of funny, insightful wrestling commentary out there, you know? There's lots of people saying 'I hate this, I hate that' but they don't talk about anything they do like and they don't talk about what they want to see."
Jordan felt her smile grow wider as he looked at her. She never tired of hearing compliments where her work was concerned. Hearing good things from one of the people she talked about was especially flattering.
"The funny thing can't be about you, he must be talking about Matt," Jason laughed. "The insightful part too. That can't be you."
Jordan held up her middle finger at him and smiled. He took a picture of her with his phone, "That's going on the show page."
"We're gonna have to take a break now, but CM Punk will be with us for another half hour so make sure you call in, text, or email your questions," Jordan said. "Or if you don't have any questions, just call to tell us how much you hate Jason. We'll be back in 5 on 670 the Score."
"Is it wrong that I'm excited to get on the red line just for the air conditioning?" Jordan laughed.
Phil held the door open for her and Jason as they walked out of the station's headquarters. He had a great time on their show. He'd stayed until they signed off at 6 and after that, Jason explained that he and Jordan had a tradition of going out together after shows on Wednesdays. That night, they were going to a Cubs night game with the Cardinals. Jason invited him along and Jordan seemed to like the idea so he agreed.
"That's not the weirdest thing I've learned about you today," Phil smirked. "That OCD Starburst thing was pretty intense."
"Oh shutup," she laughed, rolling her eyes. "I'm sure you've seen weirder things."
"I guess so," he shrugged.
She looked over at him, smiling playfully, "I don't hesitate to hit people I've just met. Keep that in mind."
"I will," he put his hands up. "But be warned, I fight back."
"Duly noted," she laughed, hoisting her purple laptop bag up onto her shoulder.
"You need help with that?" he asked.
"I got it, thank you," she smiled, pulling a CTA card out of her pocket as they approached the station. They walked down the stairs and Phil looked over at Jason who was texting someone. He had almost forgotten the other man was there. There was something mesmerizing about Jordan's smile. It seemed to make everything around her fade into the background.
"There should be a train in two minutes," Jason said, putting his phone back into his pocket as they reached the platform.
"Alright, if we're gonna do this, I have got to change clothes," Jordan said, gingerly pulling her shirt away from her flat stomach. "I feel like a used gym towel."
"Wasn't that your nickname in high school?" Jason smirked.
"Fuck off," she laughed, punching him in the arm. "Seriously, I can't wear this much longer."
Jason rolled his eyes.
"Shut it Garrett," Jordan laughed. "I live two seconds away from the red line. I can meet you guys there."
"Alright, just don't take forever," Jason warned. He looked over at Phil, "This one is always late."
"Not true," Jordan put up a hand in her defense.
"Correction, she is always early for work. And late for everything else," Jason said.
Jordan smiled, "That is true."
"She said she'll be here in a minute," Jason put his phone into his pocket.
Phil shrugged, "That works."
He was having a great time, as he usually did when he got to spend time at Wrigley Field. Jason was good company. He had to admit, though, he was wondering when Jordan would show up. After a few minutes, he heard loud laughing and then saw her stepping over a group of guys that just had to be frat boys. He thought she looked good when he first saw her but after a shower and a change of clothes, she looked phenomenal. Her long hair flowed in waves past her shoulder and she looked to be wearing a tiny bit of makeup. She had changed into a red and white button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows and a new pair of dark denim shorts. Phil stood up, reaching out a hand to help her as she stepped over a guy who was so into the game that he didn't seem to notice her trying to get by him. She placed her hand in his and he helped her over.
"Thanks," she smiled, taking the seat beside him. She smelled like clean laundry and flowers. "Those guys over there bought me a beer."
"I hope they didn't roofie you," Jason laughed.
"I saw the can opened and poured, thank you very much," Jordan took a sip and then put it down in front of her. She reached across Phil, pinching Jason's cheek, "Don't be jealous Jay. I'm sure we'll find a girl who'll want to roofie you someday."
When she reached across him, Phil noticed a few of her buttons were undone and for the second time that day he caught a glimpse of her bra. This one was black silk and Phil had to clear his throat and force his eyes straight ahead. This was going to be an interesting night.
"I'm surprised you don't get mobbed at things like that," Jordan said as she and Phil walked down the street away from Wrigley.
"That's one of the great things about this city," Phil smiled proudly. "People don't really bug you like they do in other places. They just leave you be, let you do your thing. And, honestly, I'm not as recognizable as one might think."
Jordan laughed, sure that the last part wasn't completely true. Chicago was a great city for wrestling fans and a good 90% of them loved their hometown hero. She looked over at him, studying his face as they waited to cross at a light. She'd always thought he was pretty good looking on TV but not exactly her type. There was something about him in person, though, that made him infinitely more attractive. He talked and moved with such confidence and his personality was right up her alley. Jason had left right after the game when he got a call from a girl he'd been seeing and Phil had offered to walk her home. Wrigleyville could be a crazy place after a Cubs game and she was grateful for the offer. She looked over at him again and caught him looking at her. He looked ahead quickly and she laughed, shaking her head. She couldn't quite figure out what was going on between them. They'd spent most of the night talking and ignoring Jason but she couldn't totally tell if he was attracted to her or not. A few times she'd caught him looking but that didn't necessarily mean anything. She probably wasn't his type anyway.
"So what are you gonna do now?" he asked as she pointed out their next turn.
"Well…I'm not totally sure," she shrugged. "I don't have any assignments due right now, I finished an article for the Tribune this morning. I'm gonna be up pretty late. We go back to our normal time tomorrow, 6 to 10 so I have to keep myself up late so I can sleep during the day and not be groggy during the show. That's the thing I hate about covering other times. It throws my sleep schedule off."
"I'm not a big sleeper," he shrugged.
She laughed, "That's an odd thing to say. That's like saying 'Eh, I'm not too keen on breathing'."
"I try to do that when I have to," he smirked. They reached her building and she pulled her keys out of her back pocket, "Well since I'm gonna be up and you're all anti-sleep, you wanna come in?"
He shrugged, "Why not?"
Phil looked around her living room as she went into the kitchen to get each of them something to drink. She had a very nice place, big and clean with comfortable looking furniture and interesting pictures on the walls. With a place like this, she had to have done pretty well for herself.
"I have Diet Pepsi, Sprite Zero, Crystal Light, and water," she called from the kitchen.
"You mix your Coke and Pepsi products," he smirked. "I'm not sure how I feel about that."
She laughed, "What do you want, weirdo?"
"Water's good," he said, standing near the mantel. There was a picture front and center in a silver frame of Jordan in a Northwestern hoodie and former Chicago Bears star linebacker Harry Cartwright. He was a legend in the game of football, especially in Chicago. "Harry Cartwright, huh? Did you interview him for the show?"
She comes back into the room, kicking off her sandals. She sat on the couch, "Actually, I met him at birth. Or rather, a few moments after. He's my dad."
"Harry Cartwright is your dad?" He stared.
She nodded, shrugging.
He looked at the mantel and saw a few more pictures of her and Harry, including one of her in her cap and gown.
"I use my mom's last name," she explained. "I try not to get any unfair advantages."
"Do you know how awesome that is?" Phil asked.
She laughed, "It got me lots of cool points in high school."
He saw a picture of her and New York Jets defensive lineman Wesley Cartwright, presumably, her brother. Next to that there was a picture of her with one of the NFL's most controversial players, Dexter Howard, all pro defensive back for the St. Louis Rams. Phil wasn't a huge football fan but everyone knew who Dexter Howard was. The guy was a mess.
"You related to him too?" he asked.
"That was more of a..work thing," she waved a hand. She turned the TV on, flipping to Sports Center.
He turned to look at her. She was sitting with her back against the arm of the couch, her legs in front of her, knees against the back cushion. With the way her legs were bent, he could just barely make out black panties peeking out from her shorts. He sat beside her on the couch, laughing at what she'd chosen to watch, "You're very dedicated to your work."
"I'm nothing if not professional," she smirked, putting her water bottle on the coffee table. "I hardly ever let my guests see me without pants."
"Your guests on your show or guests in your home?" he lifted an eyebrow at her. She looked caught off guard by the question and smiled, biting her bottom lip.
"That depends on the guest," she shrugged. She shifted positions, folding her legs under her and leaning closer to him. He had one arm draped over the back of the couch and she looked at his hand, tracing one of his tattoos with her finger. "Did these hurt?"
"Not that much," he shrugged. "The knuckles feel a little weird but these were so quick I barely noticed. I have a pretty high pain tolerance."
She was still touching his hand and he shifted a little in his seat, looking down at his lap, wishing he hadn't worn jeans that day. His pants were starting to feel tight.
"Do you have any tattoos?" he asked, wondering if she had any idea what she was doing to him.
"A couple," she answered. "But they're all hidden."
This time he was the one to bite his lip as he looked her over, wanting to know exactly where those tattoos were. He'd seen her practically half naked earlier and hadn't seen a single one.
"If I can guess where they are, can I see them?" he smirked.
"You think you're gonna be able to guess?" she asked, scooting just a little closer to him.
Her knees touched his thigh and he nodded, "I think I can. I know these things."
He tucked her hair behind her right ear, rubbing his thumb just behind her ear, "I'm gonna guess there's one right there."
She shivered at his touch and he smiled as she turned her head, "Good job."
He leaned forward, seeing a small tattoo of an anchor behind her ear. He ran his thumb over it again and she closed her eyes. He moved his hand to the back of her neck and pulled her forward, kissing her lips. She melted into him, parting her lips and welcoming his tongue. Her lips felt absolutely perfect and he deepened their kiss, guiding her down onto her back. She smiled against his lips, slowly pulling away, "You got one, there's two more."
He smiled at her and then kissed her neck. He moved his lips across her collarbone and undid one of the buttons on her shirt, admiring her ample breasts. He ran his hand up her side, his thumb stopping just below the bottom of her bra on her left side, "Right here."
Her mouth fell open and she narrowed her eyes at him, "Do you have x-ray vision?"
"We made a deal," he smirked, sitting back. "Now show me."
She smiled, seeming to enjoy his command. She got up on her knees, unbuttoning her shirt slowly. She slid the shirt off and dropped it behind the coach. Phil felt his erection harden that much more as he watched her. He pulled her onto his lap and placed soft kisses on her stomach, just below her bra. She moaned and he trailed his kisses over to her side, remembering the tattoo. Just below her left breast she had a small tattoo of a pair of headphones.
"Cute," he laughed, placing a kiss below the tattoo.
She pushed him back and kissed him again with more urgency this time. Phil moaned into her mouth, his hands gripping her hips.
"I'll find the other one later," he said.
"I'm sure you will," she said, pulling up the bottom of his shirt. She pulled it off over his head, tossing it aside. He pulled her back to him, catching her lips, his tongue quickly finding hers. She moved forward on his lap and his head fell back at the sensation. "Just so you know..I don't normally do this."
He smiled, reaching forward and unbutton the top of her shorts, "Neither do I."
She got up, pushing the shorts down over her hips and Phil put his hand on the back of her knee, bringing her back down onto him. He rubbed a hand up her thigh, stopping when his thumb reached the edge of her panties. He could tell that she was turned on but he looked up at her, searching for a sign that she was sure of what they were doing. She grabbed the back of his neck and kissed him again. That was all the sign he needed.
"Where's your bedroom?" he asked, knowing he wouldn't be able to control himself much longer.
"You need to do your business in a bed Brooks?" she teased.
"Jordan, there are things that I wanna do to you that require more space than this couch allows," he said hungrily.
"Well then, by all means, follow me," she got up, taking his hand and leading him down a hallway. He pulled her hand before they reached their destination, pressing her against the wall and taking her lips with his again. He slid his hand down over her stomach and into her panties, deepening the kiss when he felt how wet she was for him. He groaned deep in his throat. He hadn't wanted anyone this badly in a long time. He pressed her harder against the wall, driving two of his fingers into her. She gasped as he used his thumb to rub her clit, moving his fingers faster. He trailed his kisses to her neck, his other hand finding it's way into her silky hair. Her breathing quickened and she moaned, her hips beginning to move with his hand.
"Fuck," she gasped, her nails digging into his shoulder. He kissed her again, feeling himself growing almost painfully hard. He wanted to fuck her so badly he could barely breathe. She pulled him closer to her, moaning into his mouth as he drove his fingers faster. He pulled out of the kiss slowly, looking at her. Her head was tilted back, her eyes closed. She was biting her bottom lip. He pushed his fingers into her harder.
"Oh God," she moaned, opening her eyes.
"Feel good?" he smirked.
She nodded, breathless.
"You want it faster?" he kissed her.
She moaned loudly, nodding.
"Tell me," he rubbed her clit faster, loving how tight and wet she felt around his fingers.
"Faster," she breathed. "Oh God please."
He quickened his pace, and her nails dug into him again.
"Are you gonna come for me baby?" he asked.
"Yes," she moaned, her hips moving with his hand. "God yes."
He kissed her again, his tongue wrestling with hers. She moaned louder and he could feel her growing tighter around his fingers. Her body tensed, "Oh Fuck!"
He drove his fingers into her one last time, kissing her as her orgasm hit her. He slid his fingers out of her, raising them to her lips. She took his hand, taking his fingers into her mouth, licking them clean, her brown eyes looking into his. He kissed her again and she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer to her. He pressed into her, eliciting a soft moan as he slowly pulled out of the kiss, resting his forehead against hers, both of them breathing heavily. He looked into her eyes and she kissed him again, softly. He became aware of his hand, still clutched in her hair. He let go, allowing his hand to rest on the side of her face. He ran his thumb lightly across her bottom lip and she looked into his eyes, the slightest hint of a smile touching her lips.
She smiled, looking at a door at the end of the hall, "The bedroom's right there."
Well, what do you think so far? Please remember to review!