Blitzed by the Brit: A Secret Baby Sports Romance Read Online Free PDF

I’ve barely got three hundred words written. And, just to make matters worse, Professor Fenwick has summoned me to his office.
    His email doesn’t give anything away, but they rarely do.
    Please come see me at lunch time.
    By his standards, that’s rather verbose. Professor Fenwick is one of those old-school professors who you can tell resents the prevalence of email in the workplace. He’s not actually old—I guess about forty-five—but he’s set in his ways and unlikely to change.
    He’s a little curmudgeonly, but I like him. He’s done a lot for me in the last three and a bit years. He’s my official ‘mentor’ under the named scholarship program that brought me to this college in the first place. He’s also my boss on the college newspaper, and the one who made me write the story on Charles. Other than that though, he’s a good guy.
    “Rebecca,” he says, excited to see me as always. “Come in, come in. Take a seat.”
    Both the chairs opposite his desk have piles of books on them. I grab the smallest pile and place them on the floor before taking a seat, while he finishes arranging some papers.
    “How was your weekend, sir?” I ask. He hates me calling him ‘sir’ but I’ve never been comfortable calling professors by their first name. It’s either ‘sir’ or ‘Professor Fenwick,’ no matter how much he protests.
    “Good, good. The tomatoes in my garden are looking healthy, although a couple of damn rabbits got in and nibbled away at all my lettuce. What about you?”
    “Just working on that article.”
    “Article? What article?”
    “The article on Charles Lewington you asked me to write.”
    “Oh yes, that article. How is it going?”
    “It’s due in today, but to be honest I’ve had a tough time with it. I’m afraid I won’t be able to submit it until later tonight. I hope that’s okay?”
    “Of course. Having trouble filling the word count?”
    “Quite the opposite. There’s plenty to say about him.”
    “Good or bad?”
    I still haven’t decided that myself. Is it good when a hunky footballer presents himself to you fully naked with a hard cock? It isn’t appropriate, but it sure as hell gave me plenty of good memories to get me through the weekend.
    “Good,” I reply. “He seems like a nice guy. I’m sure he will help the college football team win some games this year. Well, I’m not that sure, because I don’t know anything about football, but that’s what’s I’ll say in the article.”
    “The interview went okay? I must admit I was a little concerned about sending you in there to meet him. He’s not like the people you typically interview.”
    Yeah, no shit. So far, I’ve mainly interviewed members of staff at the college, together with a few moderately successful alumni. All of those interviews have been conducted in formal business attire, and none of them had taken place in a sauna.
    “The interview went well,” I reply. “I don’t know a lot about football, but neither does he at the moment. We bonded over that, and he opened up about his family life and the reasons he is here.”
    I’m not completely lying. There is some truth to that. I can’t just say that we argued the entire time, and he tried to get me naked more than once. Professor Fenwick will be one of the professors I ask to write a letter of recommendation when, or if, I ever interview for a proper job as a reporter. I need to succeed at all the tasks he gives me, and not just the ones I enjoy.
    “Interesting,” Professor Fenwick says slowly, while drumming his fingers on the oak desk. “I need a willing volunteer to help with something over the next couple of months. I was going to ask Peter—”
    “I’m available,” I interrupt. Anything Peter can do I can do. More to the point, anything Peter wants to do, I want to do. I can’t let him get a leg up on me at this stage.
    “I’m so glad to hear that,” Professor Fenwick says. “I wanted to give it to you anyway, but