Hot Mic: First Take XXX

Chapter 1: Sparks on the Set

The studio lights blazed down, casting a sultry glow over the sleek, modern set of ESPN XXX's *First Take XXX*. I adjusted my tie, feeling the heat already creeping up my collar as I took my seat at the debate table. Across from me sat Shae Cornette, the new co-host who’d been turning heads since the moment she signed on. She was a vision in a chocolate brown Kiko mixed media dress, the leather skirt hugging her curves like a second skin, the short length teasing just enough thigh to make my pulse kick up a notch. Her sharp eyes met mine, a smirk playing on her lips as she leaned back in her chair, completely in control.

'So, rookie,' she purred, her voice dripping with challenge as she tapped a manicured nail on the table. 'You ready to spar with me on live TV, or are you gonna choke under the pressure?'

I grinned, leaning forward, my gaze locking with hers. 'Oh, Shae, I don’t choke. I dominate. You’ll see soon enough.'

Her laugh was low, almost dangerous, sending a jolt straight through me. 'Big words for a first-timer. Let’s see if you can back them up. I don’t play nice, and I sure as hell don’t hold back.'

The producer’s voice crackled through our earpieces, counting us down to air. The tension between us crackled hotter than the studio lights. As the cameras rolled, we dove into the day’s hottest topic—some overhyped quarterback’s latest scandal—but every word was laced with a double entendre, every glance a silent dare. Shae’s wit was razor-sharp, cutting through my arguments with precision, but I fired back just as hard, matching her energy. The audience at home had no idea the real game was happening right here, in the charged space between us.

'You think he’s got the stamina to last a full season?' she asked, her tone teasing as she crossed her legs, the leather of her skirt creaking softly. 'Or is he all hype, no follow-through?'

I leaned in, my voice dropping just enough to carry an edge. 'Stamina’s never been my problem, Shae. I go hard, every damn play. Question is, can you keep up?'

Her eyes flashed with something primal, a smirk curling her lips as she replied, 'Baby, I set the pace. You’ll be begging for a timeout before I’m done with you.'

The segment wrapped, and as the cameras cut to commercial, the air between us was electric. She stood, smoothing her dress, and sauntered over to my side of the table, her hips swaying with purpose. I rose to meet her, our bodies inches apart, the heat of her proximity making my blood race.

'You’ve got a mouth on you,' she said, her voice a husky whisper as her gaze dropped to my lips. 'Let’s see if it’s good for more than just talking.'

My breath hitched, but I matched her fire. 'Name the time and place, Shae. I’ve got plenty to show you.'

She stepped closer, her hand brushing my chest, her scent—something spicy and intoxicating—flooding my senses. 'Right now. Green room. Unless you’re all talk.'

My grin was feral as I followed her lead, the door to the green room clicking shut behind us. The room was dim, the hum of the studio distant as she turned to face me, her eyes burning with intent. She didn’t wait, didn’t hesitate—her hands gripped my shirt, pulling me in as her lips crashed against mine, fierce and demanding. I matched her hunger, my hands sliding down to grip her hips, the leather of her skirt cool under my fingers as I pressed her back against the wall.

'Fuck, you’re trouble,' I growled against her mouth, feeling her smirk as her nails dug into my shoulders.

'Trouble’s my middle name,' she shot back, her voice breathless but commanding. 'Now shut up and show me what you’ve got.'

Our clothes were a barrier we were both too impatient to deal with fully—her dress hiked up, my shirt half-unbuttoned as our bodies pressed together, the heat between us unbearable. I could feel how wet she was already, her breath hitching as my hand slid between her thighs, and I knew this was just the beginning of something explosive.