The Beautiful Game (Man of the Match Book 1)

by A. Meredith Walters

  Without dropping her, I turned on the shower. It was more than big enough for both of us. I carefully put her on her feet once we were under the hot spray.

  I lathered up her thick hair, taking the time to massage her scalp. Then I soaped the rest of her. Paying special attention to her breasts. Her boobs were fantastic. She moaned as I rolled her nipples between my fingers, her skin slippery with soap and water.

  “What are you doing to me, Lucas?” she gasped as dropped to my knees and spread her legs.

  I gazed up the length of her body, almost mesmerized by the sight of above me. Skin flushed, hair wet and heavy down her back. “I’m making you feel as good as you make me feel.” I put my mouth on her, sucking her clit into my mouth.

  With her back pressed against the shower wall I fucked her with my mouth and it was only when she came on my tongue that I got back to my feet and finished our shower.

  Getting dressed took twice as long when you couldn’t keep your hands to yourself. She put on a tiny black dress and then I promptly took it off again.

  An hour later we were finally ready to head out.

  “You’ll want to bring a jacket,” I told her as we were leaving the hotel room. She looked incredible in a tight black dress. She had curled her hair into waves, pulling them back in a low ponytail at her neck. She didn’t wear makeup, which I liked. She was beautiful without it.

  “But it was really warm today,” she argued, slinging her purse over her shoulder.

  “It’s England, baby, it gets cold at night whether it’s summer or not.”

  “All I have is a fleece. That’ll look horrible with this dress,” she exclaimed.

  I hugged her tight. “You’ll look wonderful in anything you wear,” I told her sincerely.

  Shit. Who the hell had I become? I didn’t have much practice playing the boyfriend role.

  Is that what I was now?

  Morgan’s boyfriend?

  I had been so sure I didn’t want anything serious with her. I didn’t have time for relationships. It wouldn’t be fair to Morgan when I couldn’t offer myself fulltime. Not during the season anyway.

  Yet the more time I spent with her, the harder it was to stay away from her. And it was more than the sex. I just liked her.

  “Before we go, I want to give you something.” I opened the drawer on the bedside table and pulled out a small bag and handed it to her.

  “What is this?” she asked, taking out the piece of jewelry inside. She made a noise of appreciation as she held up the metal heart necklace she had admired early.

  “You bought it?” She gently touched the tiny detailed pendant.

  “Well, I didn’t nick it if that’s what you’re asking.” I took the necklace and draped it around her neck, fastening beneath the fall of her hair.

  “You didn’t have to do that, Lucas. It’s so expensive.” She looked at her reflection, running her fingers along the chain.

  “A hundred quid is nothing, love.” I sounded like a bit of a wanker, but it was the truth. It was a drop in the bucket for me.

  “I’m not sure I can accept this,” she argued, still caressing it.

  I kissed the side of her neck. “It looks lovely on you. Of course you can keep it. It’s a gift. I wouldn’t have bought it if I didn’t want you to have it.”

  She still seemed unsure so I kissed her mouth so she couldn’t argue with me about it any more.

  “Thank you, Lucas. You can be pretty sweet when you want to be.” Her eyes sparkled and I liked seeing her happy. It made me happy.

  “Don’t tell anyone. It’ll ruin my street cred.”

  She mimed zipping her lips. “Your secret is safe with me. Promise.”

  We couldn’t stop smiling at each other. I couldn’t stop smiling period. I couldn’t remember the last time I enjoyed myself with another person like this. With a hand on the small of her back, we took the lift to the lobby where I had arranged for a car to meet us out front. Neither of us was hungry after eating at Spitalfield’s, so we had decided to head straight to the club Alan had told me about.

  It was already after ten by the time we headed across town.

  Morgan held my hand in the back of the car and I liked the way it felt to be here with her. I realized I hadn’t thought of another woman in weeks.

  Not since pushing my way into the toilet at the Thorny Rose.

  Huh.

  That was new.

  “So where’s this place we’re going? I’ve never been one for the whole club scene; so don’t expect me to dance. The most you can get out of me is drunken swaying. Maybe some bouncing with my hands above my head if I’m feeling particularly wild,” she informed me with a smile on her face.

  “We can drunkenly sway together, okay?”

  She snorted, “Sounds good.”

  The car pulled up out front of a brightly club in the heart of Soho. There was a queue of people wrapped around the block. Holding Morgan’s hand tightly in mine I headed towards the bouncer at the front door.

  The thing I liked about London is here I was just another guy. No one important. Sure, I liked the things my newfound celebrity afforded me, but I also missed the days where I wasn’t recognized every time I opened my door. In Chester I had lost the ability to go to the grocery store or the chippy without having people hound me for autographs.

  In London I wasn’t as recognizable. My star may be rising, but I was by no means a household name. Most of these people wouldn’t have been able to pick me out of a lineup.

  But here, at this club, it was different.

  “Oh my god, it’s Lucas Bradley!” I heard several people squeal as we made our way to the front of the queue. I should have known that the club Alan recommended would be a notorious footballer hang out, thus my anonymity would be non-existent.

  Morgan clung to my arm, looking around with slightly widened eyes. “It’s so busy,” she breathed. “We’ll be waiting forever to get in.”

  “Stick with me kid,” I whispered in her ear, affecting my worst American accent.

  She made a face. “That was just offensive. Americans don’t sound like that.”

  I kissed the tip of her nose. “Come on, I thought I sounded pretty authentic.”

  “Not in the slightest,” she laughed.

  The bouncer was a big, burly guy with tattoos up both sides of his neck. He wore a stern expression as he let scantily clad women inside and turned the men away. I felt a brief moment of hesitation. I wondered whether my name would matter here. I was pretty sure I saw a few celebrities making their way inside. This was obviously the place to be.

  But then the bouncer saw me and the severe looking man actually smiled.

  “Lucas Bradley!” He reached out and shook my hand, his meaty hand dwarfing mine.

  “Looks busy tonight. Too busy for us?” I asked, glancing down at Morgan who seemed to have shrunk in on herself slightly. I gave her hand a squeeze.

  The bouncer unclipped the red velvet rope at the door. “Never to busy for you, Mr. Bradley. Go on in.”

  I started to pull out my wallet. “I’ve never been here before, so I’m not sure about the cover—”

  The bouncer held out his hand, stopping me. “You don’t pay. You just go inside and enjoy yourself.”

  I tucked my wallet back in my jeans. “Thanks, mate. I appreciate it.” I led Morgan inside the darkly lit club.

  “This place is…uh…interesting,” Morgan commented, looking around.

  The club was decked out in leopard print wallpaper and bright purple booths. The lighting was typical club lighting, meaning you couldn’t see three feet in front of you. The music was at an ear bleeding volume and we had to shout to hear each other over the din.

  A woman dressed in a tight fitting purple dress greeted us as we entered. “Welcome to Splash Mr. Bradley.”

  “Does everyone know who you are?” Morgan asked, seeming amused.

  “I’ll take you to the VIP room. Drinks are on the house and if you need anyt
hing, Sherry will take care of you.”

  “Drinks are on the house? We don’t have to pay for them?” Morgan asked incredulously.

  The hostess gave her a strange look. “Of course not. Mr. Bradley brings a certain level of visibility to our club, complimentary drinks and food is our way of saying thank you.”

  “Jesus, I think I like hanging out with you.” Morgan nudged me in the side.

  The hostess led us to the VIP room, which included a balcony that looked out over the dance floor. The place was heaving. I recognized several footballers, including two from Barnet.

  “Wait a minute, is that Woody Harrelson over there?” Morgan asked, pinching my arm.

  I peered into the darkened room and shrugged. “I can’t be sure, but it looks like it.”

  “This is total insanity,” she said, more to herself.

  We slid into a booth in the corner, away from everyone else. A woman I assumed was Sherry immediately brought us a tray of shots and set them on the table in front of us.

  “I’m Sherry. I’ll be taking care of you this evening.” She pursed her full lips and shook out a head of curly brown hair. She was pretty in the made up way I was used to with women. And it was obvious she didn’t care I had shown up with Morgan. Not that I was surprised. The place was full of goal diggers, I could tell that instantly. Those sort didn’t care if you were with a woman. If you were a footballer, you were fair game.

  “If you need anything, and I mean anything, just let me know.” She put her hand on mine briefly before leaving.

  “Did she seriously just proposition you with me sitting right here?” Morgan laughed, shaking her head.

  I handed her one of the shots before knocking one back. “Some of these women have no shame. I should have known Alan would like this place.” I gestured towards a guy a little older than me sitting in a booth with a fit blonde woman, his hand up her shirt and his tongue down her throat. “See that guy over there slobbering all over the blond?”

  “Yeah,” Morgan answered.

  “That’s Greg Banner. He’s the right wing back for the Durham Cats. And that’s not his wife. Susan is a brunette and about ten years older than that girl in his lap.”

  Morgan covered her mouth with her hand. “So he’s cheating on his wife out here in the open like this? That’s awful.”

  “It’s how it is. Doesn’t make it right though.” I downed another shot. “Come on, Morgan, drink up, I want to see some drunken swaying.”

  Morgan was still staring at Greg and the amateur porn show he was putting on. I took hold of her chin and gently pulled her face towards me. “Don’t worry about that stuff. You’re here with me.”

  She frowned. “Is that what you do when you go to clubs? Hook up with any girl that throws herself at you?”

  “Don’t do that,” I growled, annoyed by her comment. Mostly because it was too close to the truth.

  “Do what?” she asked. “Tell it like it is?”

  I cupped the back of her neck and kissed her roughly. Our teeth banging together. “Don’t start thinking about all the things you think I used to do.”

  “Used to do?” she raised her eyebrows in disbelief.

  I kissed her again. Gentle this time. “Everything that came before you doesn’t matter.”

  Her expression softened. “What are you saying, Lucas?”

  I opened my mouth to tell her that I only thought about her. That the other woman didn’t matter. Because when I was with her, she was enough. Hell, even when I wasn’t with her, she was all I wanted.

  But I didn’t get a chance.

  “Lucas Bradley! I didn’t know you were staying in London!”

  No fucking way.

  I glanced over my shoulder to see Marla standing there in the most ridiculous excuse for a dress I had ever seen. Stefan’s girlfriend and George’s fiancé were with her, each looking as sleazy as Craig’s wife.

  “Hi, Marla.”

  Marla sat down in the booth across from us. I could feel Morgan tensing beside me. I felt something on my leg and I realized it was Marla’s foot rubbing the inside of my calf. I glared at her and moved my leg out of reach.

  Marla licked her lips and gave Morgan a fake smile. “Oh hello again. I am so bad with names, what’s yours again?”

  “Mandy,” Morgan replied and Marla seemed confused. I couldn’t help but snicker. It was more than obvious Marla knew Morgan’s name, she was just being a bitch and Morgan was calling her out.

  I put my arm around Morgan’s shoulders, pressing her into my side. “Where’s Craig?” I asked.

  Marla dug into her purse and pulled out a pill bottle, shaking a few into her palm. She held them out to me but I shook my head. She shrugged and put the lot into her mouth, taking one of the shots on the table and washing the drugs down. “He went back to Chester. The girls and I wanted to stay in London for the night.”

  I had no doubt why she wanted to stay in London. She was dressed for the kill. I only felt sorry for whatever poor schmuck she sank her claws into for the night. And I felt sorry for Craig who had no idea his wife was whoring around on his dime.

  “We’re staying at the Savoy. Room 440.” Marla met my eyes and gave me a pointed look. She waved down Sherry and ordered a round of tequila shots. “Come on, drink with me, Lucas,” she needled.

  Morgan was incredibly quiet beside me. I squeezed her again. “I don’t think so—” I started to say but Marla handed me a shot glass and the saltshaker.

  “Don’t be a minge, one little shot won’t hurt you.”

  She poured salt on her wrist and slowly licked it off, her eyes on me the entire time. I fidgeted in discomfort. She needed to leave. Now.

  Marla tossed back the shot and then she sucked on a lime wedge, juice dripping down her chin into her ample cleavage.

  “Jesus,” Morgan muttered. “I need to use the restroom. Excuse me.” She unceremoniously got to her feet and pushed past me.

  “Morgan,” I yelled her name but she either didn’t hear me or was ignoring me.

  Marla’s entourage had left to mingle with a group of men at the bar, leaving her with me.

  “You need to stand up and go,” I told her.

  Marla came around to my side of the booth and squeezed in beside me. “She’s cute,” she said, her hand on my thigh.

  I shoved her hand away. “Sod off, Marla. I’m here with Morgan.”

  Marla shook out her hair. “So? Ditch her. I’m not seeing much to keep you here with her.”

  “Seriously, fuck off already,” I said tiredly.

  She gripped my chin between her red nails. It fucking hurt. “You need to stop being so hateful, Lucas. Otherwise I might have to tell Craig how mean you’ve been to me.”

  She was threatening me. What a dumb bitch.

  “Go ahead, Marla. See if I give a shit. But you need to stay the hell away from Morgan.”

  Marla’s eyes flashed. “Who cares what a random fuck thinks anyway? It’s not like she’ll be around for long. None of them are.”

  I got to my feet, knocking over the drinks on the table. “She’s not just a fuck. She’s my goddamned girlfriend. So back off or I’ll make your life a living hell. You think Craig will keep your slutty ass once he knows what all the times you’ve slept around?”

  I pushed past her and headed towards the restrooms. Morgan still hadn’t come out so I knocked on the door.

  “Morgan?”

  “I’ll be out in a minute,” her muffled voice said from the other side.

  I banged on the door again. “Let me in. Unlock the door now.”

  “Go away,” she yelled.

  I banged on the door again and finally I heard the click of the lock. I pushed my way inside to find her standing by the basin, her eyes red.

  I locked the door behind me.

  She gave me a watery smile. “I’ve got the strangest sense of déjà vu. You pushing your way into a bathroom, me telling you to get out.”

  “Hopefully I won’t vomit
in the toilet this time,” I joked but she didn’t react.

  I wiped away a tear on her cheek. “Why are you in here crying? What happened?”

  She ran her fingers through her hair and let out a shaky breath. “It’s nothing.”

  “Just like it was nothing earlier in the hotel when I arrived?”

  Morgan turned and looked in the mirror, bracing herself on the vanity. “I’m not cut out for all of this, Lucas.”

  I leaned against the sink, meeting her eyes in the mirror. “It’s just a club. If you want to go, we can—”

  “It’s not the club, it’s the women throwing themselves at you. It’s the expectation that you’ll hook up with them, because I know you would have. Or maybe you still do, I don’t know. And it’s not my right to tell you not to because what you and I are doing isn’t serious. It’s just sex. But it bugs me, all right. It bugs me a lot. And when Marla tells me how there have been so many before me, it makes me feel like crap, okay.”

  I gripped her shoulders in my hands and forced her to look at me. “First of all, don’t listen to a thing Marla Denham has to say. She’s a spiteful cunt.”

  Morgan’s eyes widened. “Lucas, don’t say that word. It’s awful. Even if it totally describes that woman.”

  “Sorry.” I was sufficiently chastised. “Yes there have been other women. Lots of them in fact.”

  Morgan made a face and I kissed her. I needed it. She needed it to. “But you’re different.”

  “I swear, I want to smack you when you say that. It sounds horrible.”

  I grinned. “But it’s true. I love sex with you. But more than that, I like spending time with you.”

  Morgan pulled out of my grasp. She dabbed her face with a tissue, wiping away the tears. “It doesn’t matter, I’m not cut out for all this. It drives me crazy, you know. Seeing those women want you.”

  My fingers itched to touch her. But I didn’t. She seemed to need the space so I gave it to her. “It doesn’t matter if other women want me, Morgan,” I said quietly. She wouldn’t look at me. God damn it, I needed her to look at me. “It doesn’t matter because I want you. Only you.”

  “Until the next hot piece of ass comes along, right? Don’t you see, Lucas, I’ll always be wondering when you’re going to drop me for someone else. I don’t want to be clingy. I don’t want to be the jealous shrew demanding you call every day and text me where you’re going, but I worry I’ll be that woman with you. Because you’re you and being adored is your life.”