Strike: Dax

by Heather C. Leigh

  “Yeah, thanks Coach.”

  I hurry back to my flat to call Dax. When I get there, I find over thirty messages on the answering machine. After playing the first two and realizing they’re all from nosy reporters, I delete the rest without listening.

  Sitting on my bed, a bed Dax and I have made love in countless times, I wonder how long this thing with him can possibly last. Dax and the other guys are becoming more and more famous every day. Their first album is a huge success, debuting at number thirty on the Billboard list. As the tour progressed and singles were released, it now rests comfortably in the top ten.

  Tired and still freaked out by the incident on campus, I kick off my shoes and lay back, arranging my pillow beneath my head. Without thinking, I turn and inhale the other pillow, the one Dax uses when he stays over. His scent is long gone, having been six weeks since he was last here.

  Depressed, I close my eyes, willing the rock that’s sitting in my stomach to go away. I must fall asleep, because the next thing I know, someone is dragging a hand down my cheek. My eyes fly open and my heart begins to pound.

  “Dax!”

  He gives me a crooked grin, yet his eyes look wary, as if he’s waiting for me to scream or yell at him. I fling myself at him, wrapping my arms around his broad shoulders and tucking my face against his neck.

  “You scared me half to death!”

  His large arms surround me, squeezing me into his chest.

  “Sorry angel. You didn’t answer the door, so I let myself in,” he whispers into my hair. I gave him a key a while back so he could come over after a late gig or recording session and not bother Abby.

  “I missed you so much.” I try not to choke up or cry. I don’t want to ruin this moment with my tales of horror with the media.

  “Me too, angel. Me too.” Dax leans back, cupping my face in his hands. Despite his determination to keep everything shuttered up behind a strong front, he seems on the verge of breaking down as well. I’m about to ask what’s wrong when his mouth crushes against mine and all rational thoughts fly right out of my mind.

  Dax

  I didn’t realize how worried I was that Kate would never talk to me again until I had her in my arms, my tongue sweeping into her mouth for that familiar taste. After six weeks of tense phone calls and moments where I thought she’d get sick of the bullshit with Lila and the other photos and chuck me for good, I’ve got my girl where she belongs. With me.

  Mine. I won’t let Lila or any of my shit hurt her.

  Rule 5—Defend what’s yours.

  The thought of losing Kate sends fear skittering down my spine. Desperation takes over and I push her back on the bed, covering her with my body as I devour her sweet mouth. In between moaning, sloppy kisses, and frantic pawing, we manage to strip off our clothes.

  “Jesus, I missed this,” I groan into her mouth as our naked skin comes together. We grind against each other, reveling in the reconnection after time apart.

  “Dax.”

  It’s a whisper from her lips. Just a quiet sigh. Yet the sound of it kicks my instincts into overdrive, sending molten desire coursing through my veins. My skin feels so hot, I wonder if I’ll end up burned from the inside out.

  “Need you,” I mumble back, trailing small bites and licks down the side of Kate’s neck to her breasts.

  “Me too,” she says breathlessly, obviously feeling the same urgent need.

  I fumble to get a condom out of the nightstand and on as quickly as possible. Once ready, we waste no time. It’s been so long that foreplay is not on today’s menu. Thrusting in deep and hard, I hiss from the tight heat of Kate’s body as she moans loud and long.

  “Fuck. Feels so good.” The groans and curses fall out of my mouth unconsciously as she lifts her hips to meet mine.

  “Faster, Dax. Harder.” Kate is panting loudly, her hands pulling at my shoulders in a bid to get me to give her more.

  I know my self-control is shit, but with Kate, I try even harder so I’m not the selfish asshole that hurts her. I always worry about freaking her out with the power I want to unleash when fucking. Kate’s begging for it though. Fucking begging me to go harder. My willpower will only hold up for just so long.

  Propping up on my knees, I take one of those long, toned, legs and throw it over my shoulder. I get a tight grip on her hips, my fingers pressing in so hard she might end up with bruises. Then, I fuck her as requested. Hard.

  After the first solid thrust, Kate’s hands shoot up above her head, landing flat against the headboard to keep her from hitting it as I pound into her over and over. The sound of skin slapping on skin is drowned out by her loud keening and my vicious snarling. All I can think of is “mine” as I lay claim to her gorgeous body.

  Sweat trickles down my temples, dripping off and rolling down my chest but I don’t stop. I can’t stop. Watching Kate’s face contort with ecstasy as she takes every bit of my brutal fucking is one of the most erotic things I’ve ever seen. My name falls from her lips like both a curse and a prayer as she comes, sending me over the edge. With one final, ruthless drive, intense heat explodes from the base of my spine and I roar with my release.

  “Christ.” I collapse over her in a heap, forgetting to hold up my considerable weight. “Fuck, sorry.” As I start to roll off in fear of squashing her, Kate wraps her arms and legs around me, locking me in place.

  “No. Don’t move yet. This is… it’s perfect.”

  “I don’t want to hurt you, Kate.” My lips find hers, brushing over them lightly. I use one hand to push her tangled hair back from her face.

  Kate’s green eyes trap me in place, the honesty in them stunning to see. “You would never hurt me, Dax. Not physically anyway.”

  I’m about to ask what she means when the front door slams shut and her flatmate Abby calls out, “Hey Kate! Want to grab a bite?”

  Kate squeals and I yank the duvet up as the bedroom door swings open. “Whoa! Sorry!” The door closes and Abby starts giggling from the other side. “I forgot you were coming back today, Dax. I’ll just… ummmm, change up and leave you two alone. ‘K?”

  Laughing, Kate answers. “No. Don’t worry, Abby. We’ll have something to eat with you.” She glances at me to see if this is okay. I nod, willing to do whatever she wants as long as we’re together.

  “I’d rather spend the rest of the week in bed, but we will have to eat at some point,” I say. Kate shoves my arm jokingly, apparently thinking that I’m kidding.

  I’m not.

  She hops out of bed to clean up, moving to throw on some clothes and somehow the strange comment Kate made is forgotten. My eyes are glued to that lithe, naked body, effectively wiping every other coherent thought right out of my head.

  Kate

  “So, how’s uni, Kate?” Adam asks, talking with his mouth full of hamburger.

  We got takeaway and invited the band over so we could catch up without interruptions. I couldn’t be more thankful. Watching gorgeous women hit on my boyfriend in a crowded restaurant isn’t very high on my list of things I’d like to experience. The guys are definitely becoming more recognizable.

  “Gross, Adam,” Abby mock-whines, shoving against his shoulder playfully.

  Ever so slightly, but enough that I notice, Hawke’s posture stiffens when Abby flirts with Adam. She’s so Adam’s type, gorgeous, blonde, and very Ellie-like. Abby is only teasing though. She’s told me Adam is not even close to what she likes in a man. Too bad for Adam, I guess, but good for me. I don’t need him shagging and ditching the best mate I have in California. She’s turned him down enough times that he’s given up trying.

  “Classes are good. We’re a definite for the tournament this year. Now we just have to see if we win the PAC-10.” I take a big sip of my drink as Adam half-listens to me while ogling my flatmate.

  “Hey,” Dax says playfully, reaching across the coffee table to lightly punch Adam on the arm. “When my girl is talking, you could at least look at her. You did ask her a questi
on.”

  “Don’t get your knickers in a twist, Davies. I’m listening.” Adam swings his gaze over to me. “When’s your next game? I’d like to watch you play. All this time knowing you and I’ve never seen you on the pitch.”

  “That’s a great idea,” Gavin adds with one of his killer smiles. The kind that makes me think the man should be modeling posh watches or expensive men’s wear. He’s bloody gorgeous. Literally achingly beautiful.

  “Dax?” I turn to see what he thinks of going to my last regular season game. It’s a big one, against California, one of our big rivals.

  “I thought you’d never ask, angel. I’d love to see you play.” He leans in for a quick kiss, his hand skimming over my knee.

  “Dirty, dirty, boy,” I whisper in his ear as his hand moves up my thigh.

  “So are we going?” Gavin asks.

  I glance around the room. Adam and Gavin are excited, Abby is smiling like crazy, Hawke is, well, being Hawke—staring at his food with a blank look on his face. Dax, the sexy thing, he’s moving his hand higher and higher up my leg and pretty soon we’ll have to kick everyone out so we can get naked again. Six whole weeks without sex has my hormones on a hair-trigger.

  “I’ll have five tickets left at the box office,” I tell them. “Unless…” I pointedly look at each of the guys, “you want to bring someone with you.”

  Hawke’s head snaps up, the disinterested pouty look replaced by a sly smile. “Maybe.” His eyes betray him when they flick over to Abby for the briefest of seconds. Is he trying to make her jealous?

  “Right, okay. Adam? Gavin? Either of you need an extra?”

  “Nah, I like to keep my options open,” Adam laughs.

  “Of course,” I answer, my tone dry.

  “Gav?”

  His cheeks redden slightly. “No. I just want to see you play, no distractions.”

  Poor Gav. The stupid promotions team at their label, including that cow Lila, has told him not to flaunt his sexuality because it detracts from female fans’ fantasy of him. God forbid he be seen with a man in public.

  I would have told them to buggar off, but it’s not my call to make.

  “Okay, so six tickets. It’s Saturday at three. I’ll leave them under my name.”

  Everyone agrees to meet out front before entering the stadium. I’m excited. None of my non-footy playing friends except Abby have seen one of my games. Now I’ll have my own cheering section.

  Dax is back and all of the freaking out I’ve done over the last six weeks seems like an overreaction. The paparazzi, the pictures with Lila, feeling inadequate… it falls to the wayside as long as he’s with me. The guys are like family to me, and I can’t wait to show them what I can do on the pitch.

  Dax

  “Hell, it’s too early for someone to be calling.” I tuck my head under my pillow, trying to block out the shrill sound of my phone.

  “It’s ten, Dax,” Kate mumbles sleepily, wrapping herself tighter around my waist, burying her head into my chest.

  “Bloody hell.” The phone stops, then immediately kicks in again. Several texts ping in at the same time.

  Trying to shed the heavy layer of sleep that is making my body sluggish, I throw my legs over the side of the bed and promptly fall arse over tits when the duvet refuses to release my feet. “Shit!”

  “Are you alright?” Kate’s face pops over the edge of the mattress, imprints from the sheets still on her cheek.

  “Yeah, angel. Just not quite awake yet.” I manage a smile so Kate rolls away, probably to go back to sleep. Then her mobile starts to ring.

  “What’s going on, Dax?” It takes me a minute to find my own phone as it’s still tucked away in last night’s jeans. Kate’s rings again, and now I’m beginning to get worried.

  Eighteen missed calls—three from Rachel, two from Ross, one from Gavin, and eleven unknown. “What the—?” Flicking through the texts, there’s more of the same, Rachel asking me to call, Ross demanding that I call, and Gavin asking if I’m okay.

  Okay? Why wouldn’t I be okay?

  “Dax?” Kate is standing next to me, her mobile in her hand. She’s fully awake now and she looks very unhappy. Kate’s normally bright expression is sullen, brows knitted tightly and that perfect mouth turned down. “I forgot to tell you something,” she whispers, sinking down onto the edge of the bed.

  “Huh?” I don’t quite catch what Kate says with my head all up with horrific scenarios that would cause both of our mobiles to blow up simultaneously.

  “Dax.”

  “Yeah?” Turning, I see the absolute misery on Kate’s face. Fear drops into my stomach like a lead brick. I sit next to her on the bed, pulling her into my arms. “What’s going on? Do you know about these calls? I was about to ring Gavin.”

  “It’s just that… well, yesterday before I saw you…”

  Kate is biting into her lip, nervously twisting her hair into a knot over and over. She jumps up, hurrying into the bathroom. When she returns, her hair is in a perfect ponytail. She’s freaking out.

  “Kate, you’re scaring me. What happened?” My heart is racing and that damn instinct to hurt someone floods my body.

  Rule 5—Defend what’s yours.

  The urge to protect Kate, to shield her from whatever she’s frightened of is so strong I nearly yell just to get her to tell me who it is I’ll have to kill.

  “When I left my match yesterday, the media…” She lets the sentence hang unfinished because the rest is obvious.

  “Fuck,” I breathe out, “they found you.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Shit. Tell me everything.”

  Once Kate is done explaining her run in with a mob of journalists that for the most part assaulted her, I’m seeing red. We’ve been so careful, not wanting Kate’s name to get out to the press. In interviews I say I’m in a relationship if asked, but that’s the most I’ll disclose. Neither Kate nor myself wanted the shitstorm that would descend if they found out who she was. Now it’s too late.

  “C’mon,” I say to Kate, pulling her to her feet.

  “Where? What are we doing?”

  “Get dressed. We’re going to my flat. I want to use my laptop to see what is being said. Yours is too slow, angel.”

  I hurry into my jeans and yank my shirt on, impatient for Kate to do the same. After a few minutes, she gets tired of me following her around the room, nagging her to move faster, and explodes.

  “Dax, stop rushing me! I have to get my bloody clothes on. Go call Gavin.”

  “No.” I shake my head. “I want to read it myself first. I don’t want to hear second-hand. It will only make me angry with whoever is telling me.”

  Kate pulls a face, but finishes brushing her teeth and puts her shoes on. “I’m ready.”

  “Right, let’s go.”

  Kate

  Dax Davies.

  A man of so many contradictions. With the rare exception being the guys in the band and myself—and even then it’s only occasionally—he keeps his emotions shuttered in so tight it’d take a freaking crowbar and a sledgehammer to chip away at that stoic façade. Yet when upset, thrown headfirst into that protective fight mode from his days in the cage, anyone can read the pure, lethal fury on his face. Even when it’s hidden behind that blank stare.

  Like right now.

  “Fucking bastard cunts,” he hisses along with a slew of other shocking profanities that fall from his lips as he pulls up website after website detailing my encounter with the paparazzi yesterday.

  As Dax skims each one, I read over his shoulder, my hands trembling, tears pressing at the back of my eyes. I can feel the shame flooding my skin, prickling hot up my neck as I see each headline.

  “Is Dax Davies Cheating on Lila Griffin with Co-Ed?”

  “Love Triangle Involving Rock Star, Hollywood Heiress, and UCLA Student.”

  “Soccer Standout Breaks Up Couple on the Verge of Stardom.”

  Swallowing down the bile that’s crept up my
dry throat, I manage to croak out a few words. “So… I’m the other woman.”

  Dax stiffens, sitting up straight from where he’s hunched in front of his laptop. “Fuck no. We know it’s not true. I don’t give a rat’s arse what these shit for brains write.”

  Only, I know that’s not true. He cares. And even if he didn’t, I care. I don’t want to be involved in this part of Dax’s life, the part that is getting more and more famous with each passing day. Especially not painted as the villain in this scenario—vs. that cow Lila of all people!

  Dax continues flicking through the articles, grumbling under his breath the entire time. The front door of the flat opens. “Hey guys!” Gavin calls out. He’s got his surfboard under his arm, deftly swinging the long board into the room and leaning it on the wall. His hair is all mussed from the ocean, stiff in places from the dried salt. He takes one look at my face and frowns. “So I take it you heard?”

  I glance at Dax’s back, coiled with tension, muscles ready to strike out at anyone who so much as looks at him wrong, then flick my gaze back to Gavin. The sympathetic look he gives me is so heartfelt and honest the tears I had been holding back fill my eyes.

  I move away quickly, not letting Dax see how upset I am. He’s on edge enough to act first and think later—not a good combination with someone as volatile as Dax. Add in seeing me cry? Well, you may as well roll out the hearse for whoever pisses him off and happens to be within striking distance.

  “I-I have to go. Practice starts soon.” I nearly trip on my own feet, stumbling towards the door. Gavin catches me before I end up smacking my head on the wall.

  “Careful, Kate.” One blonde eyebrow goes up, asking a silent question. Are you all right?

  I’m far from all right, but I can’t let Dax know. Looking over my shoulder, I see that Dax has rung someone and is busy shouting into his mobile.

  “I’ll see you later,” I mumble. Gavin doesn’t look happy, but he lets me go.