The Sports Star at the Chatsfield

by MELANIE MILBURNE

  ‘Every second year.’ My shoulders went down as I sighed. ‘I texted him to remind him this time but I guess he had better things to do.’

  Angus was still holding my hand. His hand was so much larger than mine. It made me feel protected and safe. ‘Like sleeping with your best friend?’ he said.

  ‘He told you that?’

  ‘Bragged about it.’

  I rolled my eyes. ‘Yes, of course he would.’

  ‘Alice?’

  It was the first time he’d said my name. I hadn’t even told him it but I guess my father had. I wonder what else he’d told him. ‘Yes?’

  ‘Will you have supper with me?’

  Was ‘supper’ code for ‘sleep with me?’ I wondered. I decided I didn’t care. I was famished either way. ‘Yes. But you don’t have to pay me.’

  He flicked my cheek with a gentle finger and smiled with his eyes again. ‘I knew that.’

  Chapter Three

  I was expecting him to be staying in the penthouse but apparently one of The Chatsfield twins was staying there. Angus opened the door of his suite but before he had shut it behind me I was in his arms. And get this. He cradled my face in his hands as his lips met mine. He didn’t crush my mouth beneath his. He gently explored it, taking his time, acquainting himself with the contours of my lips, discovering my taste while I discovered his. He tasted of mint and salt and something else I hadn’t tasted before. I suspected it was unique to him. His tongue met mine and stroked it into play. I felt a shiver go down my spine as one of his hands settled on my hip. He gently brought me forward so I was flush against his body, his toned and hard body. I could feel his erection swelling against me. It thrilled me that he found me attractive. I know just thinking about sex can turn men on, but I liked to think it was me he was thinking about as he kissed me so passionately.

  My glasses were getting in the way (and they were seriously fogging up) so I eased back just far enough to take them off. I didn’t know what to do with them but Angus took care of that. He took them from me and placed them carefully on a little table near the sofa. ‘Can you see without them?’

  ‘Who said that?’

  He laughed and gathered me close again. ‘You’re cute.’

  I ran my fingertips over his stubble. And yes, it felt as sexy as it looked. ‘I can’t believe I’m doing this.’

  He covered my hand with one of his, holding it against his lean jaw. ‘It’s your birthday. You can do whatever you want.’ He kissed me again. A brief gentle kiss that made my lips tingle for more. ‘Happy birthday, Alice.’

  I murmured ‘thank you’ against his lips. It was so sensual feeling my lips move against his as I spoke. My breasts were brushing against his chest, making my nipples go hard at the friction. He slid a hand down the length of my spine, cupping my bottom as he brought me even closer.

  I looped my arms around his neck as I kissed him back. I was normally a bit conservative when it came to kissing guys. I never took the lead. I never did anything brazen or bold. I guess there’s a part of me that is still in that dark cloakroom.

  But with Angus it felt so natural and right to be kissing him with heated fervour. I wasn’t afraid of where this was going. I felt safe and respected.

  His hand came back up to the top of my dress and gently slid the zip down. It puddled at my feet and I stepped out of it as his hand smoothed over my back. I felt like a cat being stroked. I wanted to purr. Heck, for all I knew maybe I was purring because the sounds I was making were nothing I had heard coming from my throat before.

  I moved against him, seeking his hardness in a totally instinctive way. He made a groaning sound against my mouth. His hot breath skated over my lips and into my mouth, reminding me of the intimate invasion to come.

  His hand found the hook fastening on my bra. It fell to the floor as well, leaving me in nothing but my hot pink thong.

  ‘Aren’t you a little overdressed?’ I said as I started on the buttons on his shirt.

  His eyes glinted as he undid his belt buckle. My inner core leapt in anticipation as I heard his belt slip through the lugs on his trousers before he tossed it to the floor. I’m not sure who undid his zip. I have a feeling it might have been me because suddenly I was holding him in my hands. I had never done that before. I hadn’t had the chance back in the cloakroom. Sex had been something someone had done to me. I hadn’t been part of it other than as a receptacle.

  This was different.

  I was giving and receiving pleasure. I could hear the breathless sounds Angus was making. I could feel the thunder of his blood against my fingertips. He was so thick and full, like velvet-covered steel.

  His mouth came back to mine in a deep kiss of longing. My tongue played catch-me-if-you-can with his. I felt a frisson of delight when his hands cupped my breasts. He did the same as he’d done to my mouth. Touching me gently, letting me get used to his caresses as if he somehow knew I wasn’t as experienced as him. My skin shivered all over when his thumbs rolled over each of my nipples. Then he circled them, round and around, making the flesh tighten even more.

  He lowered his head and took my right nipple into the warm cavern of his mouth. I gasped as his lips and tongue worked over the sensitised flesh. I had never felt anything as exciting as that. I could feel my whole breast swelling and tingling in reaction. He did the same to my left breast, licking, stroking, caressing. He even used his teeth but in the gentlest way possible. The sexy scrape of his teeth against my skin made something deep inside my body melt like candle wax against a naked flame.

  Angus moved his mouth to the side of my neck, his teeth nibbling at my earlobe, and then just below it, and then further along the framework of my collarbone. ‘We don’t have to go any further if you don’t want to,’ he said.

  I pulled back to look at him. He was a bit blurry but I could see he meant it. ‘I don’t want to stop.’

  He stroked some imaginary hair out of my eyes. Or maybe it wasn’t imaginary so much as I couldn’t see it. ‘You don’t seem like a one-night stand girl.’

  ‘I’m not, but then neither do you. A one-night stand guy, I mean.’

  His smile was lopsided again. Rueful even. ‘It’s hard to have a relationship when I’m living out of a sports bag. Training takes up hours of time. Travelling even more.’

  ‘Is that what you want one day?’ I asked. ‘A relationship?’

  He looked at my mouth. I looked at his. ‘One day.’

  I closed my eyes as his mouth met mine again. I breathed in the scent of him, the sharp citrus tang with the understory of wood. His arms came around me and lifted me off the floor. Or maybe I floated. I don’t think anyone has ever carried me before. Not since I was a little kid anyway. I felt like one of those heroines in a period drama being swept off her feet by the wickedly handsome aristocrat.

  Angus laid me down on his bed and came down to join me; stroking his hand down the length of my thigh he peeled away my thong. He gently pulled me against him so I could feel the hard heat of him against me. I quivered as his fingers traced the seam of my body. Lucky I’d been to the beauty therapist the day before. Sophie had given me a voucher for my birthday. I wasn’t going to use it on principle, but then I changed my mind. I didn’t do the whole Brazilian thing. I was a landing strip girl. But as landing strips go it was pretty small. More like a landing line.

  I sucked in a breath as his fingers gently separated me. I was unused to the sensation of someone touching me there. I’d had the odd fumble on my own just to make sure everything was in working order, so to speak. I know it’s hip nowadays for girls to admit to self-pleasuring but I still cringe in embarrassment. I guess because it’s the only time I’ve ever felt pleasure down there. On my own.

  But now I wasn’t alone and the pleasure I was feeling was taking me over like a freak wave does an unsuspecting swimmer. I had no way of pulling back from it as Angus put his mouth to me. I had been reduced to one point of ecstatic feeling. His tongue stroked and then flicked agains
t my clitoris. I don’t know how he knew what pressure to use but he got it just right. The sensations swept over me, picking me up and tossing me over and over, my body shuddering with each aftershock until I was barely conscious. I let out a gasping cry and floated back down as an overpowering sense of relaxation flowed through me.

  Angus held me for a moment, his eyes searching mine. ‘Good?’

  What could I say? ‘The best.’

  He grazed my cheek with the back of his knuckles. ‘It will get even better with practice.’

  I looked at his Adam’s apple rather than meet his eyes. ‘How did you know?’

  He tipped up my chin to lock his gaze on mine. ‘You don’t have to pretend to be something you’re not.’

  I moistened my lips with my tongue. I could taste him on them. I would probably have a salt and mint addiction for the rest of my life. ‘Isn’t that what you do?’ I said thinking of all the things Brianna had told me.

  He studied me for a long moment. ‘How long did you talk to my sister?’

  ‘Not long. I had to convince her I wasn’t a thief or a member of the press before she would say anything to me.’

  His smile tilted his mouth again. ‘She’s a good kid.’

  I touched his face again. I loved the feel of his regrowth against my fingers. I traced the outline of his mouth as well. He captured my index finger about halfway round and sucked on it hard. My belly gave a wobble as he meshed his gaze with mine. I was aware of his body primed and potent against me, the throb of lust echoing the pulse of my own.

  His head came down and his mouth covered mine in a long, deep kiss that made my body damp in anticipation. I could feel the silky moisture every time I shifted against him.

  He reached past me for a condom. I assumed that’s what he was reaching for because I had my eyes closed in bliss. I opened them just enough to see him sheath himself before he came back over me, balancing his weight on his elbows. I felt like I was in a parallel universe. Was I really about to be made love to by Angus Knight?

  He entered me so gently I felt a sudden rush of emotion. I covered it by occupying myself with caressing his back and shoulders, my fingers exploring every inch of his toned body. He began to move within me, a slow rocking motion that triggered a groundswell of sensation in my body. I fell into his rhythm as if it was a tune that had been specially composed for me. My inner body gripped him tightly. I felt the tension building all over again. I was getting closer and closer to lift off but it was just out of my reach. Nearly… nearly… nearly…

  Angus brought one of his hands down between our bodies, touching me with just the right amount of pressure to send me on my way. I soared up into the stratosphere. It was like having an out of body experience. I could hear gasping sobbing cries but barely registered they were my own.

  Within a few seconds of my orgasm fading he let go. I was unexpectedly moved by the power of it. It shuddered through him in giant spasms. His guttural groan sounded like it had come from a place deep inside him.

  In the moments after I felt like the door on the cloakroom had closed for the last time. I didn’t need to revisit that dark horrible place. I had a new memory now. A new experience that cancelled out anything that had been before.

  I looked up at the ceiling and felt a couple of tears roll down my cheeks.

  Angus propped himself up on one elbow to look at me. His eyebrows met over the bridge of his nose. ‘Did I hurt you?’

  I shook my head. I didn’t trust myself to speak. I clamped my lips together on the sob I could feel building in my throat.

  ‘Hey.’ His one word was so gentle it made two more tears squeeze past my eyelids. So too did the soft brush of his finger down my cheek.

  ‘I’m OK,’ I said. ‘Really. Just a little emotional.’

  He was still frowning but it was a concerned frown. A caring one. ‘Want to talk to me about it?’

  I realised then I hadn’t talked to anyone about it. Not even a therapist I’d seen for six months after my cat Peabody got run over. I fell into a hole and couldn’t climb out. But I hadn’t connected with the woman at all. She said I had father issues. Shows how much she knew. Really.

  I found myself spilling all to Angus. Who would have thought? He was all but a stranger but somehow I felt comfortable telling him about my one night of erstwhile rebellion. He listened as I recounted what I could remember of that night. I sensed the anger in him over what had happened to me. For all that he let the world think he was a shallow playboy, I now knew different.

  Once I had finished I felt as if a weight had come off me. I had carried the shame of that night for too long. I had blamed myself instead of putting the blame where it belonged.

  Angus brushed my hair back again. It was such a tender gesture it seemed rather odd given we’d only met a couple of hours ago. Odd but right, if you know what I mean. ‘Are you hungry?’ he asked.

  I suddenly realised I was ravenous. I can never eat before I meet with my father. I have this queasy feeling in my stomach until I see him come through the door. It’s a mixture of hope and lurking disappointment. ‘I’m starving.’

  Angus picked up the in-house phone and ordered room service. I asked him to order for me. I know. It was very 1950s of me but I wanted him to surprise me. There’s something thrilling about a man who takes charge. No wonder they’d made him captain of his team. He was a born leader. He wasn’t easily intimidated. He stood strong and proud in spite of his humble background. He told me all about it over supper. How his mother died when he was seven and how his dad had brought him up by himself.

  We sat on the sofa in his suite and shared our midnight supper like two old friends. I had never felt so at ease with someone. We ate caviar and smoked salmon and buttery cheese puffs and drank French champagne from tall elegant crystal glasses with The Chatsfield C engraved on them. He had ordered a strawberry layer cake that was utterly delicious. I took a photo of it because I had never seen a cake that looked that amazing. It was like a work of art. He had even asked the chef to put a candle on it for me. I leaned forward and blew it out while he sang Happy Birthday in a gorgeous baritone. Seriously, if he ever got injured and had to hang up his football boots he could forge a new career in musical theatre or opera.

  But then as the clock ticked its way towards one a.m. I became aware of my glass slippers waiting at the door. I’m speaking metaphorically, of course. I didn’t have a pair of glass slippers. I didn’t even have a pair of Louboutin’s. I had a pair of ballet flats I got in a buy-one-pair-get-one-free sale in Top Shop.

  I put my champagne glass on the coffee table and placed the snowy white napkin (apart from a tiny bit of strawberry coulis) right next to it. I picked up my phone (yes, it was my phone. I checked) and stood. ‘Thanks for a fabulous evening,’ I said. ‘I have to get going. My flatmate will put out a search warrant if I don’t show up soon.’

  I don’t have a flatmate, by the way. I used to but she got engaged recently and moved out. I hadn’t got around to replacing her. I kind of liked the fact that no one pinched my yoghurt or didn’t put the cap back on the toothpaste. I know. I know. I can be petty at times.

  Angus put his glass next to mine and rose from the sofa. It was hard to read his expression but I got the feeling he hadn’t expected me to leave so soon. Maybe the girls he dated stayed all night. I didn’t want to go through the morning after routine. I couldn’t bear being sent on my way as if I had delivered a service that was no longer required. I wanted to leave on my terms. ‘I’ll come down with you,’ he said.

  ‘Please don’t.’ I gave him a smile that felt brittle at the corners. ‘It was fun tonight. The best birthday I’ve had in ages.’ Ever. I didn’t add that, but then, I suspected I didn’t need to. He had witnessed my kid in a toyshop enthusiasm for the last couple of hours like a munificent uncle.

  He looked at me for a long moment.

  And then he picked up my hand and brought it to his mouth and kissed each of my knuckles in turn. I can tel
l you, no kindly uncle had ever done that to me before. I shivered all over as I felt the graze of his stubble on my hand.

  ‘Tonight was…’ he paused as if he were searching for the right word, ‘… special.’

  Special in what way? Should I ask? I didn’t want to appear to be fishing for compliments. I didn’t want to appear gauche and unsophisticated. I didn’t want to raise my hopes only to have them cut down. I hate that feeling. That horrible sinking feeling that pulls at all my organs until I feel like I’m being dragged down a sinkhole.

  ‘It was nice meeting you, Angus,’ I said.

  Nice?

  What about gobsmackingly amazing? What about mind-blowingly awesome? What about I think I fell in love with you when you kissed me?

  I kept my lips in that frozen smile. I watched as his gaze moved over my face. I’m not sure what he was looking for but I made sure he didn’t find it. I reckon I could have passed for a wax model in Madame Tussaud’s.

  He was still holding my hand and gave it a final squeeze before he let it go. I felt the contraction in my chest as if he had just squeezed my heart. ‘Thank you,’ he said.

  ‘For… for what?’

  ‘For bringing back my phone.’ His expression matched mine. It was like we were having a competition on who could show the least emotion. He didn’t even have a tick in his jaw. I’m pretty sure I had one but I was controlling it by biting down on my molars.

  ‘Oh, right,’ I said. ‘Well, it was my mistake. I was the one who stalked off in a huff.’

  I walked to the door (not in a huff but pretty damn close). Why couldn’t he ask me to stay? Why wasn’t he saying you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me? Or that wonderful line Tom Cruise says in Jerry Maguire: “You complete me.”

  Nothing.

  Just a big fat silence.

  I waited while he opened the door for me. I didn’t look at his face as I walked past him. I breathed in one last whiff of his aftershave. I blinked to keep back the tears I could feel stinging (as bad as my optometrist’s eye drops) behind my eyes.