“Your phone is going ballistic.”
Hurrying out, I picked up my phone and saw exactly what she was talking about.
CHAPTER NINE
LOGAN
“Dude!” Nick clapped me on the back. “What did you do to this chick to cause her to bust your balls about your performance when you didn’t even play?”
“Seriously?” This was getting really fucking old. I couldn’t win. I played; I got raked over the coals. I didn’t play; she still managed to find a way to make my life miserable.
“And we can’t forget Oliver, although his performances are usually pretty forgettable. Tonight may have been his best showing. Here’s hoping while he was warming the bench, he was also learning how to take someone down,” Jack read.
“Why are you even reading that trash?” I asked, trying to reign in my temper.
“I need to know what ‘T’ is saying about me.” Bryce shrugged.
“So, what? You have an alert set up so anytime your name’s mentioned Siri points it out?” I asked as my onscreen character fell off a cliff and died. Damn I hated this game. But I’d lost rock paper scissors and it was Bryce’s choice tonight.
“Nah. I’ve got an alert set up anytime ‘T’ posts.”
“What is it about this chick?” Jack asked, and I couldn’t help but agree with him. I wanted to know exactly who it was behind the keyboard. And maybe even more importantly, what the hell I’d done to piss her off. Even my ex-girlfriend, if you could call three months of dating an ex-girlfriend, wasn’t this cruel.
“Does anyone know if it is actually a chick?” Jack asked.
Until now, I’d just assumed ‘T’ was a woman. The articles read like a woman wrote them, but maybe he was right. Maybe it was a guy writing. Who the hell knew? One thing I did know, however, I was more than ready for them to fuck the hell off and find someone new to pick on. I was getting really sick of it.
It was already dark, and I was exhausted. After busting my arse in the weight room, I’d headed down to the field, not fazed by the heavy clouds circling overhead and started running laps. I didn’t keep count of how many I did. By the time my mind was clear enough to function again, my legs were burning, and I’d been in serious danger of dropping to my knees and crying. Now, hours later with every heavy step I took, I was paying the price. I shuffled like an old man.
Grabbing my hoodie off the back of the chair, I tugged it over my head and stepped out on the balcony. Today had sucked and not in the good way either. Rubbing my eyes, I yawned and looked out across the night sky to see the Melbourne skyline. Damn I loved living here. I’d come a long way from the dairy farm I’d grown up on. I’d always assumed I’d end up giving away football and growing up and taking over the farm from Dad. I’d move into the cottage, find a wife, pop out a couple of kids, buy a dog and spend my days milking cows and fixing the tractor – the damn thing seemed to break down every other day. But here I was. Living the dream. Living my dream.
Yawning loudly, I stretched my arms up above my head and rocked my neck from side to side. After very little sleep last night, for very good reasons, I was stuffed. Heading back inside, I ignored the guys who were still talking shit about who was the better basketballer, and went to my room.
The moment I heard the lock click into place, the scent of sex and sweat filled my nose, bringing back the most vivid memories. Trying to ignore it, I tugged my shirt over my head and dropped it in the hamper in the corner of the room before kicking off my shorts and sliding between the sheets. Biggest. Fucking. Mistake. Ever.
I could still smell her in my room. Shoving my hand roughly into my boxers, I adjusted my hardening cock, mentally talking it down. With a groan, I rolled over, burying my head in my pillow. I lasted all of fourteen seconds before I flipped over, pushed my boxers down to my knees, grabbed my dick and stroked it roughly, imagining it was Tasha’s hand. When my dirty, disgusting thoughts had me remembering the way her lips stretched around me, I came with a grunt, coating my stomach.
***
Wednesday morning and I was tired, grumpy and horny as fuck. My hand wasn’t cutting it anymore. I needed something more. I was jacking off morning, noon and night. I was getting callouses. It wasn’t just the lack of sex that was driving me crazy. I was pulling double duty at the gym in between studying for mid-semester exams. Everyone thought I was crazy trying to study and play at the same time, but I was determined to make the most of my time in the city. Even though I thought I’d be going home to take over from Dad, having a fall back wasn’t a dumb idea. Everyone just assumed it’d be a trade like electrician or plumber or something. Aeronautical engineering wasn’t exactly considered a fall back, but for me it was a challenge. One that most days I looked forward to. The problem was, today wasn’t one of them. Today I was an arsehole. I knew it, and there was only one thing that could fix today’s mood. Coffee. Lots and lots of coffee.
After a quick shower to wash the sweat off from my morning run, I yanked on a pair of grey sweatpants and a hoodie and headed out towards the coffee shop a couple of blocks down, my heart set on a delicious breakfast.
Passing through the door, I peeled my glasses off and tugged my ball cap down a little lower. Normally people were pretty good here about letting me go about my business without asking questions, but today I wasn’t in the mood to be polite if they wanted more from me. I didn’t have any more in me to give.
After ordering my normal latte and scrambled eggs from Katrina, a lovely lady the same age as my mum, I tucked myself into a corner booth in the back and flipped through the paper.
I hadn’t made it to the sports section when Katrina appeared, nursing my cup. “Here you go, sweetheart.”
“You’re an angel,” I told her as she set down my mug.
“Eggs won’t be long.”
“Thanks.” Without hovering, she evaporated back into the crowd of people leaving me to enjoy my solitude.
By the time my eggs arrived, I’d finished my first cup and was ordering a second. Shovelling forkfuls of the fluffiest eggs on the planet into my mouth, I groaned embarrassingly loud.
When my eyes opened, there was a woman standing beside my table, looking down at me with a cheeky smirk. She was the absolute last person in the world I was expecting to see. Not that seeing her was a bad thing.
“Now there’s a sound I’ve heard before,” she sassed.
That mouth. Her words were not what I was expecting. I wiped my mouth with a napkin and set my fork down. “Good morning.”
“Morning.”
“Would you like to join me?” I offered, surprising not only myself, but from the look on her face, her as well.
“I don’t want to intrude. I’m just waiting for my coffee.”
“Wait with me?”
“I shouldn’t.” She was saying no but her body language was telling me another story.
“Tasha. Sit your arse down.” She quirked an eyebrow at my instruction. “Please,” I added as I took her in. Even dressed down she was stunning; jeans that hugged her curves, a tight red sweater that propped her boobs up and showed off the incredible handfuls that they were, and a cream-coloured scarf dangling around her neck, daring me to grab hold of it and tug her into my lap.
As the argument faded in her eyes, she slipped into the booth opposite me and stole my coffee. Usually, I’d be cutting off anyone’s fingers that touched my coffee, but I found myself staring as she swallowed a mouthful and then slid it back to me.
“What’s wrong?” Her face was all scrunched up.
“How do you drink th…that?”
“What’s wrong with it?”
“It’s so strong. Where’s the sugar?”
“You don’t put sugar in coffee.”
“You mightn’t, but normal people do.”
“Natasha!” a voice called out and both our heads snapped towards the counter.
“That’s my coffee. I should let you get back to…to whatever you’re doing. It was good to see you�
�” She started to leave but stopped when I grabbed her arm.
“Why do I get the feeling you’re running away from me?”
“I’m not…”
“Again.”
“I was hoping you were going to let me get away with that one…”
“Natasha?” a voice called again.
“Keep that cute arse right where it is. I’ll get your coffee.” Not giving her a chance to protest or complain, I slid out of the booth and grabbed her coffee.
It’d been barely a minute since I’d left her sitting there and already she was fidgeting and looking uncomfortable. The second I sat the paper cup down in front of her, she stole it and took a big sip, sighing as it hit her blood stream. The sound alone had my dick hardening and the memories bouncing around in my brain forced me to slide into the booth, hiding my increasingly obvious issue.
“Well, now I’ve got my coffee. I have to run.” She grabbed her bag and slung it over her head, the strap sitting between her boobs.
“Well actually, you can’t.”
“I can’t?”
“Not yet anyway.”
“And why the hell not?” Damn it. The sass in this girl was going to be my undoing.
“Because your pancakes haven’t arrived yet.”
“I didn’t order pancakes.”
“I ordered them for you.”
“Why the hell would you order me pancakes?”
“Because,” I lowered my voice, not needing anything else I said to be overhead, “had you not have run out on me the other morning, I would’ve made you pancakes after I made you scream.”
“Firstly, I didn’t run out. Not exactly. And secondly, you can make pancakes?”
“Bullshit. And of course. Who can’t make pancakes? My favourite is chocolate chip with ice cream.”
“As a breakfast food?” she asked, slightly shocked.
“As an anytime food.”
“Is that even allowed on your athletic diet?”
“As long as Angela doesn’t find out.” I shrugged.
For the next hour, we sat talking shit, eating breakfast and sipping coffee. Around us, people came and people went, but not one person interrupted us or noticed we were there. We were just two normal people enjoying our breakfast. It was the best non-date I’d ever had. There was something about Natasha that I couldn’t stay away from.
When we finished up, I paid the bill and we slipped out into the footpath traffic. Even though I knew I should’ve been heading home and back to the books, it was the last thing I wanted to do.
“What are you doing now?”
“What?”
“Where you headed?”
“Home, I guess. I had to come in to the city to drop something off.”
“But now you’re free?” I asked hopefully.
“I guess.”
With a plan quickly formulating in my head, I wasn’t about to let the opportunity to spend time with her pass me by. “Great! Then you’re coming with me.”
“Where are we going?”
“You’ll see.”
It was such a nice day out for a change, which basically meant the Melbourne wind wasn’t icy cold and you could actually stay outside for more than two seconds without your nose turning red and falling off or the rain bucketing down soaking you to the bone, so we walked along the river for forty minutes. For the first thirty, I managed to keep my hands to myself. It was the last ten minutes that was my undoing as I reached for her hand.
“Where are you taking me?”
“Here.”
Behind me was the Australian Sports Museum in the bowels of the MCG. I had no idea if she’d ever been there or if I’d completely read the whole story wrong. “Have you ever been?”
“I didn’t even know it existed!” She was smiling so widely I thought her lips were going to crack.
“Wanna head inside?”
“Fuck yeah!”
CHAPTER TEN
TASHA
Logan Oliver was dangerous.
Extremely fucking dangerous.
Not in the way your dad warned you about when you were a hormonal teenager wearing too much lipstick and climbing out the bedroom window to sneak off and kiss boys behind the school canteen. No, Logan was much more trouble than those boys could ever be. He was the kind of guy you could fall for and never recover from. The kind of guy who could steal your heart and tip your world upside down.
And I, like the big idiot I was, like the teenage girl I’d once been, wasn’t listening.
He bought our tickets, took my hand and led me through the museum. Although I think he believed he’d done this for me, he was like a kid in a candy store. I doubt he could’ve stopped himself if he even wanted to. Fangirling over the trophies, gushing over uniforms tucked away behind the safety glass cases and trying on the shoes of Olympians.
It was the most fun I’d had in a long time. I might like my sports but it wasn’t even comparable to Logan.Seeing how much he was enjoying himself was enough to make me smile. By the time we were finished, I was buzzing and craving a meat pie. I mean, I was at the football stadium.
“That was awesome!” I exclaimed as we stepped out the doors only to be saturated by the rain as it pelted down in huge fat drops.
“Where the hell did this come from?”
“It’s Melbourne.”
“Fair call.”
He grabbed my hand and started dragging me along behind him. His legs were so much longer than mine. He was so much faster. Trying to keep up, I slipped on the wet concrete and, with a squeal that would’ve annoyed dogs, down I went with a thud. With one hand wrapped in Logan’s, I tried to brace my fall with the other, but it wasn’t enough. My arse hit the concrete the same moment my hand did.
“Shit, Tash! Are you okay?” Logan asked worriedly as he turned back to face me.
Was I okay? Did I fucking look like I was okay? Hell no! I didn’t need a mirror to know I looked like a drowned rat. My palm was bleeding and had tiny rocks embedded in my skin. And my butt... How the hell was it even possible to hurt your butt so badly?
Groaning, I wiped my hand on my jeans, pushed the stray hair that was plastered to my face out of my eyes and looked up at Logan. If it was even possible the guy was even more beautiful looking after getting caught in a storm. His hair was flat and dripping down his face. His grey sweatpants clung to him like a second skin, leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination. One glance at the impressive bulge he was sporting and suddenly my underwear was as soggy as my arse.
Scrambling to my feet, I dusted off my butt knowing it did absolutely nothing to help. I was a complete mess. Without a word, Logan reached out, took hold of my wrist before examining my hand carefully.
“We need to get you out of the rain.” Gee, you think, Captain Obvious?
Leading me towards the stadium entrance, we ducked under the cover. By the time we got there I was shivering. The wind had turned, and now I was drenched. It was bloody cold out here. All I could think about was a hot shower, a block of chocolate and binge watching some trashy TV.
“How’s your hand?” he asked.
Looking down I noticed the bright red pool of blood in the centre of my palm. While it had hurt, I’d assumed it had all been superficial cuts and scrapes, but now looking at it and seeing it wasn’t slowing up at all, I was mildly concerned it was something I needed to have a better look at. Not that I was about to admit that to Logan. “It’s fine. Probably just needs a good clean and a Band-Aid.”
“You sure you’re okay?”
“I’m fine. I just need to head home and dry off.”
“You going to let me drive you home?”
“I’m fine on the train.”
“Tash, you’re soaked. You’re bleeding. I’m either driving you home or…”
“Or what?”
I’m not entirely sure why I was so against him taking me home. A normal person would be stoked to have a hot guy wanting to go out of his way like that. But no. Not me.
I was obviously not normal. I didn’t think I was embarrassed about living in the suburbs in a third-floor walk-up apartment. Sure, it wasn’t a penthouse with a view over the city with marble benchtops and the best quality finishes, but I’d done what I could to make it homey. My home. It was quaint and comfortable and mine.
Logan didn’t answer my challenge. Not with words anyway. Instead he slammed his mouth down over mine, not caring where we were, how I looked or who saw us. I couldn’t stop myself when I moaned into his mouth, letting him take the kiss even deeper. By the time he pulled back, I was dizzy from the lack of air, and my lips were tingling. They weren’t the only thing. The things this man did to my body with a look or a kiss should be illegal.
He didn’t even try to be discreet when he reached down and adjusted the prominent bulge in his pants. Meeting his gaze, I saw lust and need reflected there, revealing the truth. I wasn’t the only one feeling like this.
“Come with me.” Logan reached for my hand and I squeaked. Although he hadn’t done it intentionally, he’d grabbed my injured hand. Yanking it back, I cradled it against my other. “Shit, Tasha. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“You trust me, don’t you?” he asked, the playful glint in his eye.
Did I trust him? Well, I did right up until the moment he asked. I’d learnt a long time ago that people who asked for your trust, rarely deserved it. There was something about Logan though. He was different, or at least I wanted to believe he was. Taking a chance, one I may live to regret later, I nodded. The moment I did, I was swept off my feet and tossed over his shoulder, fireman’s style.
“Put me down!” I begged as I dangled over his shoulder, grabbing hold of his hips so I didn’t fall. Well, didn’t fall again.
Conscious that my arse was pretty much in his face, my cheeks burned with embarrassment and I buried my face against his back, breathing in his clean scent. An intoxicating mixture of man and rain. With the rain beating down on us, the thin cotton material of his sweatpants clung to his arse, showing me each and every defined muscle and ridge. I wanted to lick them all.
Marked (Playing Games Book 1) Page 7
