by Louise Hall
Cate swatted his chest, “you’re impossible.”
Kian brushed his lips against hers, “but you love me anyway.”
“I do,” she wrapped her arms around his neck. Kian slid his hands down to her bottom and squeezed, encouraging her to wrap her legs around him. He carried her across to the bed. “I really do.”
“I’ve thought about how I can make it up to you,” Kian said as he removed her dress.
Cate peeled her sad-looking panties down her legs, “ugh, I’m so glad to get rid of these.”
He put his hands on her thighs and dragged her down the mattress until her bottom was teetering on the edge. “Do you remember that photoshoot I did for Senta jeans before we were married?” Kian brushed his lips against that sensitive spot just behind her knee.
Cate frowned, “the topless one that Molly had pinned up in her locker?”
“Mm,” Kian dragged his tongue slowly up her inner thigh; she was still slick from her earlier orgasm. “I got so much fan mail from women after those adverts came out.”
Cate tangled her fingers up in his black hair. “Are you seriously talking about your fan mail while I’m lying here naked and your mouth is millimetres away from my you know?”
Kian chuckled and the vibrations against her heated skin definitely didn’t help. “I guess what I’m trying to say is…” he put his hands on her thighs, pushing them so wide apart that her hips yelped in protest. “The women who wrote to me, they fantasised about this image they had of me in my jeans but that’s all it was, a fantasy. They didn’t get the real me, that’s reserved just for you.”
“Who gives a fuck if that cab driver goes home tonight and jerks off thinking about his fantasy version of you? He might have caught a glimpse of you having an orgasm. But he doesn’t get the real you either, angel. He doesn’t get your mouth, your breasts or this right here.” Kian blew on her damp skin and she tried to move her hips but he held firm, his fingers biting deliciously into her soft flesh. “That’s his punishment because the real you – your mind, your sense of humour, your beautiful heart – they are a million times better than any fantasy he could dream up.”
Christmas Eve
16 Years Ago
“The gaffer wants to see you all upstairs in the canteen after you’ve finished getting changed,” Bob, the Manchester Rovers kit-man announced. Kian and his team-mates had just finished training.
“What’s going on?” Stephen Locke, the Rovers captain asked. He’d just stepped out of the shower and had a towel wrapped around his waist.
“How should I know?” Bob shrugged. “I’m just the messenger around here.”
Yoakey, Kian’s friend and team-mate gave him a nudge. “He probably just wants to remind us not to overdo it tomorrow as if he hasn’t said the exact same thing to us every day since the first of December. He’s like the worst advent calendar ever.”
Kian smirked. He could put up with the gaffer’s Scrooge-like lecture because at least he could spend the afternoon and evening of Christmas Day with his family. They were away at Liverpool on Boxing Day but unlike the other two Manchester clubs, Rovers didn’t insist on the players staying at a hotel the previous night.
He followed Yoakey upstairs to the canteen which was already packed. It seemed like everybody connected with Rovers (from board level right down to the first year apprentices) had been corralled into the small space. One of the benefits of being a first teamer though was that the younger players automatically made way for you so Kian and Yoakey joined the rest of their team-mates at the front.
“Warner,” the gaffer nodded at him. “Joe Hunter’s retiring today. We’re going to make a presentation and I thought you might like to say something since you’ve been here the longest out of all the players.”
Kian’s family were all Rovers supporters and he’d been signed by the club almost as soon as he’d taken his first steps. Hunter was one of Rovers’ longest-serving Academy coaches.
He glanced around the room and realised that the gaffer was right; he was the only one of his ex-Academy team-mates who was still at Rovers. His two closest friends had been Sam Richmond and Liam Barrett. Sam had left Rovers for City when he was thirteen and Liam had never fully recovered from a serious leg injury and so he’d dropped down the leagues.
Kian looked across at the octogenarian owner of the club in his expensive navy-blue suit, the buttons struggling to hold across his rotund belly. He was sipping from a mug of coffee and chatting to one of the laundry ladies. How would it look if Kian refused?
But it wasn’t a fear of public speaking that was fuelling his reluctance. “It might be better if Locke spoke instead. He’s the club captain,” he suggested.
“Aye, OK.” Fortunately the gaffer didn’t press the issue and instead moved down the line to talk to Locke. After he’d gone, Kian let out the breath he’d been holding.
“What’s the matter? You don’t like the guy or something?” Yoakey asked. “I’ve heard he can be a hard taskmaster but so are most Academy coaches.”
“Nah, nothing like that,” Kian lied, “it just seems more respectful to have Locke do it. Like I said, he’s the club captain.”
After the gaffer and Locke had both given their speeches, the owner presented Hunter with a gold wristwatch. “Joe has been a huge asset to the Academy here at Rovers. He hasn’t just used the knowledge he gained from his own successful playing career to create the Rovers stars of tomorrow, he has also helped them grow from boys into fine, upstanding young men. He would often give up his time if one of his boys was struggling and needed some extra coaching. I’m sure everybody here will join me in saying that we’re really going to miss you but we wish you all the very best for the future.”
There was loud applause and Hunter looked embarrassed by all of the attention.
After he’d thanked everybody for their kind words, the owner put a hand on Hunter’s back and guided him across to where the first team players were stood.
“Kian,” the owner’s voice boomed loudly. “I imagine you in particular owe this man a huge debt of gratitude.”
“Of course,” Kian plastered on his fake smile.
Hunter stuck out his hand and Kian realised that he was expected to shake it. With everybody watching, he couldn’t refuse so he gritted his teeth and pressed his hand up against Hunter’s. Thankfully, the handshake was over with quickly and they moved on to Locke.
“Do you think we can leave now?” Kian asked Yoakey.
Yoakey looked around. Several of their team-mates were already making their way towards the exit. “Yeah, I think so.”
As soon as he climbed into his car, Kian reached for the small bottle of antibacterial hand-wash he kept in the glove compartment and vigorously scrubbed at his palm and fingers.
He waved goodbye to Yoakey and then called his friend, Nicole.
“Are you only just finished? I thought you’d forgotten about me,” she laughed. Nicole was a glamour model and when he’d heard that she was going to be stuck in a hotel in Manchester all by herself because her family were going to the Caribbean for Christmas and she had work commitments; he’d invited her to spend the day with his family instead.
“The gaffer wanted to remind us again not to overdo it tomorrow.”
Nicole laughed, “my agent said the exact same thing.”
When he arrived at Nicole’s hotel, she wasn’t ready so she said she’d meet him in the bar. As always when he was in the city centre, he was aware that there could be spies for the gaffer lurking about so he ordered a mineral water while he waited.
The Kleins – Irene and her four children, Remy, Ben, Liv and Cate – were friends with his family and they were hosting their annual Christmas Eve party tonight. Ben had been his best friend ever since they were babies and they’d both been so busy recently, it would be good to catch up.
He hadn’t realised that he’d been itching his right hand until Nicole pointed it out when she joined him. “If you keep scratching like th
at, you’re going to break through the skin.”
“Shit, I didn’t even realise I was doing it. Are you almost ready to go?”
Nicole looked at her watch, “it’s still early. Let’s have another drink.”
When they arrived at the Klein’s, the party was already in full swing and the basement was packed. He found Ben and his fiancée, Erin by the stereo.
“Oh my god, will you stop doing that?” Nicole nudged when she caught him itching his hand again. “Why are you so jumpy tonight?”
Almost as soon as she’d spoken, Kian felt a weird sense of calmness come over him. It was the first time he’d felt almost normal since he’d finished training this afternoon.
He turned around and just as he’d expected, Ben’s youngest sister, Cate was stood halfway up the stairs talking to his own sister, Sinead.
She was only just eighteen (five years younger than him) but tonight the age difference didn’t seem so insurmountable. He was used to seeing her in jeans and trainers so to suddenly see her in a black, lace dress which clung to her curves was a huge shock. With make-up, her dark, knowing eyes looked even bigger and her lips were plump and kissable. He watched as she bit down on her bottom lip and that simple action broke through the veneer of kohl and lace and reminded him of the innocent beauty he was finding it more and more difficult to stay away from.
He pretended not to watch as Cate started talking to Jake Moloney. His sister gave her a thumbs-up behind Jake’s back. Surely Cate wasn’t attracted to that loser? He wouldn’t have followed her but Jake said something and Cate stopped smiling. She stumbled in the heels she must have borrowed from Sinead. Jake held her arm to steady her but she shrugged him off and went outside. The house was built on a slope so the back of the basement led out on to the patio and then the garden. Before the door could shut behind her, his feet were already moving.
He stepped out on to the patio but he couldn’t see Cate anywhere. There was a tug at his shirt sleeve and when he turned around, Nicole had followed him.
“You’re such a jerk. I can’t believe you invited me to this party and all you’ve done so far is ignore me.”
“I’m sorry, I…”
“Forget it, this party sucks. I’m going to get a cab back to my hotel.”
He was just about to climb the steps up to the garden when he heard Nicole shriek. “What are you doing out here, you little freak?”
“Who’s there?” he asked, wanting to make sure that Nicole was OK.
She ignored him, storming down the passageway and slamming the gate behind her.
When he looked down, Cate was sat on the ground, hugging her knees. “Cate, what are you doing out here?”
She looked so small and delicate, as though he could slip her into his jacket pocket and carry her away. He sat down beside her, just close enough that he could almost feel the side of her arm and leg against his own. He listened as his sister and Jake discussed the fact that Cate had never been kissed before. With each crass word, he could feel her shrinking beside him.
Cate was everything good in the world. She was the first ray of sunshine after an almighty rainstorm. The jerk who required promises from Sinead before he’d deign to give Cate her first kiss didn’t deserve to even breathe the same air. She was so pure and sweet, her heart untarnished, he wanted to dedicate his life to making sure that nothing bad ever happened to her. He wanted to wrap her up in his arms and protect her against the evils of the world.
“Don’t cry over him, OK. He’s an asshole and he’s not worth it.”
He reached for her hand and helped her stand up. There were tiny sparks of electricity as their palms slid together, their fingers intertwined.
He took a step closer, pressing her back against the brick wall at the side of the house, underneath a sprig of mistletoe. Her big, black eyes were open and trusting.
She’d never been kissed before. He wanted, needed to be her first.
“That’s what you want for your first kiss. Somebody…” he gently cradled her face in his hands. “… who knows what they’re doing.”
Her skin was so soft; his hand no longer itched. It was like she was purifying him somehow. Her abundance of light was winning out against his darkness.
Aware of the rough brick behind her, he reached up and cradled the back of her head protectively, his fingers sliding into the depths of her glossy black hair. He gently brushed his lips against hers and he felt her sway against him.
“Open your eyes, angel.” The word slipped carelessly from his lips but it was perfectly placed. That’s who she was. If he was a monster, she was his angel.
As she blinked, her lashes parted to reveal her gorgeous dark eyes. He watched her closely. A blush spread across the apples of her cheeks and she bit down on her bottom lip. She was the most honest person he’d ever met. Everything she was feeling was reflected in her eyes. He could see a flicker of embarrassment as she struggled to maintain eye contact with him. He didn’t want to hurt her and would have stepped back immediately if he hadn’t also seen that she wanted him. That tiny pulse on her throat beat a rapid tattoo. The relief that his feelings weren’t unrequited made his knees weak.
He kissed her again and she tasted so sweet, he wanted to cling to her and never let go. His hands tightened in her hair and he tilted her head back, needing more. Each time their lips fused together he expected that it couldn’t possibly feel this good. He sucked on her top lip, his tongue tracing over every bump and dip, needing to memorise every last detail because he knew that it wouldn’t be long before fate ripped them away from each other again.
Thursday February 14th
Cate knelt down and carefully picked up the broken flowers from the carpet. She’d hoped that she could salvage some but nearly all of them had been destroyed.
When she walked into the bathroom, Kian was in the shower. She was a little annoyed that he hadn’t asked her if she wanted to join him. The glass was all steamed up but she could see that he had his back to her. As an ex-professional footballer, his body was still strong and muscular. She leaned on the doorframe and allowed herself a cheeky ogle; a body as ripped as that should definitely be appreciated.
As he scrubbed at his chest, the muscles in his back rippled and Cate felt her clit, which had been so well-loved the night before, come thundering back to life again.
His butt accidentally rubbed up against the glass door and Cate almost had another orgasm right there. He seriously had the sexiest butt she’d ever seen. Before she could even think about what she was doing, she’d taken off her t-shirt and was pulling her panties down her legs.
She slipped inside the shower with Kian. He still had his back to her so she thought she’d surprise him. She reached around and gripped the shaft of his cock.
“Get the fuck off me,” Kian shouted. He ripped her hand away from his cock and flung his elbow back, hitting her right between her breasts. She stumbled backwards, her back slamming into the glass door. Caught completely off guard, she lost her footing and slipped, landing with a loud thump on her butt on the base of the shower.
“Ow,” Cate rasped. Her chest was hurting so much she could hardly breathe.
“Cate?” Kian gripped her arms, “angel, are you OK? I’m so fucking sorry.”
“So you keep…” Cate pressed a hand to her chest. She couldn’t believe that Kian had turned on her like that. “So you keep saying.”
He gripped her arms and tried to lift her up. “Don’t touch me,” she shrank away from him.
“You’re hurt,” Kian tried to reason with her. “I just want to make sure that you’re OK.”
“You,” Cate stabbed a finger at him. “You hurt me.”
“I’m sorry, angel. I didn’t know it was you. I thought it was… someone else.”
Cate swiped at the tears trickling down her cheeks, “who?”
Kian shook his head.
They sat there in silence for a few minutes. She could tell that Kian wanted to try and comfort her but
she folded her knees up to her chest, making it as clear as possible that she didn’t want him to try and touch her again.
When the pain in her chest had receded a little, she tried to stand up. She had bite marks on her tummy and handprints on her inner thighs from the previous night and now she had a real doozy of a bruise blossoming between her breasts and her butt was all kinds of sore. Most women got flowers and chocolates for Valentine’s Day. Her body looked like a freaking war zone.
She grabbed the fluffy robe from the back of the bathroom door and shrugged it on.
Kian followed her into the bedroom, keeping just enough distance between them.
“Cate,” his voice cracked, “I’m so sorry, angel. You have to believe me. I would never intentionally hurt you like that, I swear.”
She sat down on the end of the bed, “it doesn’t matter whether you meant to do it or not, it doesn’t make it hurt any less. You said you thought I was somebody else. Who did you think I was?”
Kian wouldn’t answer. Cate reached down and pinched the inside of her wrist. What was one more bruise to add to the myriad of others already marking her skin and heart? This had to be a nightmare, it just had to be. She just needed to wake herself up. There was no other explanation that made sense. Until this morning, she’d never even contemplated that Kian would hurt her physically.
“I know I don’t deserve it, angel,” Kian begged, “but please can I hold you? I hate seeing you so upset.”
“OK,” Cate gulped. She needed his comfort but she hated feeling so weak.
Kian gently gathered her up in his arms. He guided her head to rest against his chest and she breathed in the scent of his body wash; it was so achingly familiar. Through her tears she could see the tattoo on his pectoral muscle which was dedicated to her and the children. She didn’t understand how the man who was holding her so reverently right now could be her husband, the father of her three children and her best friend and yet also be the same man who’d just attacked her in the shower?
