Striker (Book 1 in the 'Striker' Trilogy)

by Michelle Betham

  ‘It’s not what you have to do that’s the problem, Ryan,’ Max said, opening his own car door. ‘It’s what you haven’t got to do that concerns me.’

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Amber held the light green dress up against her as she looked in the full-length mirror. It was way shorter than she’d usually wear, but after a spray tan and a make-over in town that afternoon – courtesy of Debbie – she felt confident enough to show her legs. Even if it was still the middle of January but, hey, that’s what Northerners did, wasn’t it? Go out in all weathers in completely unsuitable clothing.

  Smiling to herself, she cocked her head on one side and shook her hair out, staring at the image looking back at her. She looked different, and it wasn’t just because of the spray tan. She looked happier, more relaxed. Less uptight? Probably.

  She lay the dress down on the bed and looked at herself again. Did she really want to go out tonight? No. What she really wanted to do was stay in, with Ryan, and do something normal like watch TV and eat pizza; the kind of things she was used to doing. She didn’t want to go traipsing round the bars of Newcastle in the freezing cold, worrying about what Ryan was getting up to. Oh, it wasn’t that she didn’t trust him – or was it? Did she trust him?

  She pulled the towel she was wearing away from her body and looked herself up and down. She wasn’t perfect – far from it. But her figure wasn’t bad, either. She had a little bit of post-Christmas weight still to shift and although Ryan had never once told her she was anything but beautiful, she still wondered if he’d prefer her to be slimmer, more toned; younger. The thought of Ryan made her smile, despite what she’d just been thinking about. He’d certainly had no complaints about her body lately, in fact, he couldn’t get enough of her, so shouldn’t that tell her everything she needed to know? She was just being paranoid, knowing he was going to be out there, no doubt surrounded by adoring women and the usual crowd of wannabe WAGs. But maybe she could give him something to think about before he hit the town on his own night out? Something to make him realise that he only really needed her.

  She smiled again, grabbing her robe and wrapping it around herself, running her fingers through her hair. Yeah. She could make sure Ryan Fisher strayed nowhere tonight. And she knew exactly how to make that happen.

  *

  Ryan closed the door behind him and threw his bag down on the hall floor, pushing a hand through his slightly dishevelled dark hair. He was ready for this night out, although part of him still wished Amber was coming with him. Strange that he should now prefer a night out with her by his side rather than these separate nights they had planned, but he was already beginning to realise that life could throw up the weirdest of circumstances when you least expected it.

  He just about had time to grab a quick shower and a change of clothes before he needed to head off and meet Gary and the lads in town and, despite the fact he’d much rather be taking his new fiancée with him, he was determined to have a good time. And Ryan Fisher was an expert in having a good time. Everybody knew that.

  ‘Amber?’ he shouted, walking through into the kitchen, taking his jacket off and flinging it down on a nearby chair, smiling as he saw her leaning against the island in the centre of the kitchen, flicking through a magazine. ‘Hey, you’re still here,’ he smiled, relieved to see her. He’d missed her, and he hadn’t really wanted to go anywhere without checking in with her first.

  ‘I’m not meeting the girls for a while, yet,’ Amber smiled back, closing the magazine, deliberately letting the robe she was wearing fall open. She was wearing nothing but a pair of killer heels, the rest of her completely naked, and Ryan could feel himself reacting within seconds. Jesus, this was the kind of welcome home he was well up for. ‘I wanted to make sure I said goodbye first,’ she said quietly, her eyes locked on his as he came closer.

  Ryan reached out and gently touched her hip with his fingertips, letting them run lightly over her warm skin, his eyes staring deep into hers, his heart beating ten-to-the-dozen. ‘Good,’ he whispered. ‘That’s – that’s good. Because I’d have hated you to run out on me without doing that.’

  Amber smiled again, her whole body tensing up as his fingers travelled slowly up and over her waist, along her stomach, until they reached her breasts. She closed her eyes as he touched them, his thumb slowly flicking over her nipples, taking just seconds to turn them hard and she bit down on her lip, throwing her head back as he covered one of her breasts with his mouth.

  The taste of her was making him crazy. He was so turned on it was ridiculous. He was so hard and ready for her that it physically hurt and, without pulling his mouth away from her breast, he quickly unzipped himself, but made no move to push inside her. Not yet. He wanted to take it as slow as he possibly could, make the most of her before he had to leave her yet again – something he disliked doing more and more as each day passed.

  ‘Jesus, Ryan…’ Amber groaned, gripping the edge of the island as he slid a hand between her legs, touching her, stroking her, his stomach flipping somersaults at the sheer anticipation of coming inside her.

  ‘You are making me so fucking crazy,’ he said, his mouth now touching hers as he spoke, their eyes locked together.

  ‘I want you so bad, Ryan Fisher,’ Amber breathed, her entire body tingling as it waited for the inevitable to happen. ‘So, so bad.’

  Ryan slid a hand round the back of her neck as he kissed her hard, his other hand still firmly between her legs, his body pushing against hers, both their breathing now heavy and fast. But he wasn’t going to last much longer – he knew that. He could already feel that familiar crescendo starting its climb from deep within him and in one swift movement he lifted her up onto the counter, pushing her legs wide apart, inviting him to finally make his presence felt.

  They both kept their eyes open, staring at each other with an almost wild intensity as he pushed inside her, her body accepting his as though it was the most natural thing in the world, her legs wrapping around him, keeping him right where he wanted to be. He didn’t think he’d ever get tired of the way she made him feel, the way everything was starting to revolve around her and this new life they were going to have together. He felt like a kid waiting for Christmas, waking up every morning knowing she was there, right beside him, beautiful and real and his. She was his. And she wasn’t some glamour model or pop princess or reality TV star who just wanted to be seen with somebody famous to further their own career – she was a real woman, and he loved her. He loved her so fucking much. And he needed her more.

  Leaning right back, both hands flat on the counter behind her, Amber finally closed her eyes, giving in to every touch of his fingers on her naked skin, his mouth covering first one breast then the other as he continued to push deeper into her, every thrust eliciting small cries of both pain and pleasure and she wished with every inch of her that this feeling would never end. Because he was a part of her now, hard though that might be to believe, given their somewhat sketchy beginning. He was a part of her, and she didn’t want to have to think about what could happen if she lost him. Amber Sullivan had finally submitted to those sometimes hard and painful feelings associated with love for only the second time in her life, and she could only hope that, this time, the story didn’t end the same way it had done before.

  ‘I’m so close, baby,’ Ryan whispered, his mouth touching hers, his hands now on her knees, keeping her legs apart as he gave that one, final thrust, that deciding push that sent that beautiful chain of events spiralling into motion. ‘So close…’

  She closed her eyes as she felt him come, felt him fill her up with that incredible warmth that once again sent her head spinning and her heart beating so fast she felt as though it could jump right out of her chest, but it was just a pre-cursor to her own crashing climax. ‘Oh, Jesus,’ she breathed, clinging onto him as that wave of white-hot heat soared through her, shaking her body to its core. She’d never experienced sex like it – not even with Jim – and now she knew it could fee
l this way she didn’t want to let those feelings go.

  ‘I could stay inside you forever,’ Ryan whispered, his hand on her cheek as he rested his forehead against hers, their breathing still heavy, their bodies still joined together in that most intimate of ways. ‘You are the best fucking thing that’s ever happened to me, Amber Sullivan.’

  Amber smiled, running her fingers lightly over his rough chin. ‘Yeah, well, you better believe it, handsome.’

  ‘I love you so much; you know that, don’t you?’

  Amber nodded, quickly kissing him before returning for a slower, deeper kiss, wanting to taste him again, to feel how soft his lips were against hers, to keep that taste of him with her all night. ‘I know, baby. I know. And I love you, too. I love you like you wouldn’t believe. I feel like some teenager who’s just bagged the best-looking bloke in school.’

  He laughed, that deep, sexy laugh of his, looking down at her naked body as he finally withdrew, leaving a place he didn’t really want to vacate just yet. He was happy when he was inside her. Nothing else mattered when he was there, nothing except the two of them. The rest of the world could just fuck off, he didn’t need them, he didn’t need any of it when he was with her, when he was this close to her. Is that what love really felt like? This overwhelming feeling of needing someone so much it actually hurt? A feeling that could creep up on you and take over before you’d even realised it was happening. ‘We start talking about dates tomorrow, for this wedding of ours, you got that, gorgeous?’

  She smiled again, taking a couple of seconds to just look at him, this young, handsome man in front of her. This famous footballer, this mixed-up kid who’d walked into her life and turned it on its head in a way she could never have anticipated. ‘Yeah. Okay.’

  He took a couple of steps back, quickly pulling himself together. Amber slid down from the counter and wrapped her robe back around her naked body, running her fingers through her hair.

  ‘Amber?’

  She looked up at him as he stood there, his hands in his pockets, his face carrying a slightly worried expression. ‘Yeah?’

  ‘I really will behave tonight. I promise.’

  She couldn’t help but smile as she walked over to him, slipping her arms around his waist and kissing him quickly, but still long enough to bank another taste of him that she could keep and pull out later when she needed to remember what this felt like. ‘Baby, I’m your fiancée, not your mother.’

  ‘I just want you to know you can trust me, that’s all.’

  ‘I know, Ryan. And I do, okay? I trust you.’ She reached up to gently stroke his cheek, standing up on tiptoe to kiss him again, a longer, slower kiss, his hand resting in the small of her back, pushing her against him. ‘I trust you.’

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  ‘Jesus! I swear they come out of fucking nowhere!’ Gary said, leaning back against the bar as a group of glamorous young women descended on him and the rest of the Red Star players, all bright-white smiles and fake tan. ‘But, hey, what can you do?’ he grinned, sliding his arm around a very pretty brunette with pillar-box-red lipstick and over-made-up eyes.

  Ryan watched as Gary did what Gary did best – ignored the fact he was engaged and only months away from being a married man himself to indulge in this age-old, off-pitch game that so many footballers enjoyed. A game Ryan had played himself so many times, it was just that now he was starting to feel a bit bored with it all. Because now he had Amber.

  ‘Hey, handsome.’

  Ryan turned to see an undeniably beautiful girl standing beside him, smiling the kind of smile he’d seen on the faces of these girls so frequently over the years. A smile that told him she’d be quite willing to do anything he wanted her to, he just had to say the word.

  ‘Are you gonna buy me a drink, then?’ she asked, edging closer to him, laying a French-manicured hand on his arm, her false eyelashes fluttering in what was most probably an involuntary action.

  Ryan stared at her for a second. In the past he wouldn’t have hesitated to do exactly as she’d asked, knowing what would be waiting for him at the end of the night. But things were different now. Things had changed. He was different. ‘You do realise this is actually my Stag Night, don’t you?’ he said, wishing she’d remove her hand from his arm. The way she was touching him was making him feel slightly uncomfortable.

  ‘So?’ she pouted, moving her other hand down to his thigh. ‘I can’t see your fiancée anywhere, can you? And what the eye doesn’t see…’

  ‘Jesus Christ,’ Ryan sighed, pushing her hand away. But she still made no attempt to move from his side, leaning back against the bar beside him.

  ‘Jenna said you were usually up for anything,’ she huffed, folding her arms like some petulant child who’d just had her favourite toy taken away from her.

  Ryan stared at her in disbelief. ‘Who the fuck is Jenna?’

  She nudged her head in the direction of the brunette who was all over Gary, giggling like a schoolgirl at something he was whispering in her ear. ‘She said you two had spent a pretty full-on night in The Goldman a few months back. Said you were a right kinky sod, too. The things you two did together…’

  Ryan tried to tune her out as he looked at Jenna again, squinting slightly. Shit! Yeah, he remembered her now. She’d been one hell of twisted bitch, he couldn’t deny that.

  He turned back to the pretty blonde beside him. ‘What’s your name?’

  Her face brightened up immediately, her smile widening. ‘Emmie. Short for Emily, but I don’t like Emily. It doesn’t really suit me…’

  Ryan held up his hands to stop her from talking, closing his eyes for a second in the hope that, when he opened them, she’d be gone and he’d be left in peace. ‘Look, Emmie – this is my Stag Night, sweetheart, okay? I’m getting married, I’m in love, and I know people are finding that quite heard to believe, given my past, but it’s true. It’s happened, so, whatever your mate Jenna has told you about me, that’s all in the past. You got that?’

  Her expression changed again, returning to that of the petulant child. ‘You’re not married yet, y’know.’ She turned to face him, smiling a slow, sexy smile as she began fiddling with the collar of his jacket. ‘You’re still allowed a little bit of fun, surely?’

  He pulled her hand off him, pushing her away slightly. ‘No can do, sweetheart. You’d better go find yourself someone else because I ain’t playing anymore.’

  ‘Spoilsport,’ she huffed, picking her bag up off the bar. ‘I really fancied you, too.’

  And a couple of months ago he’d have fancied her back, but things were different now. He watched her flounce off in the direction of the rest of the lads, pushing a hand through his hair and breathing a sigh of relief.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Gary asked, almost running over to him.

  Ryan looked at him, frowning slightly. ‘Huh? What’re you talking about?’

  ‘Emmie. What are you doing shoving her away like that?’

  ‘Look, first of all I didn’t shove anyone, okay? And secondly, I’m not up for all that shit anymore, alright?’

  ‘It’s your Stag Night, Ryan.’

  ‘Yeah, I’m aware of that, thanks.’

  ‘Listen, mate, you’re not gonna be like this all night, are you?’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘Boring.’

  ‘Boring?’ Ryan laughed, pushing a hand through his hair again. ‘I’m being boring, am I?’

  ‘Just a bit, yeah. I was hoping me, you, Jenna and Emmie could have made a night of it later. They’re both willing…’

  ‘Yeah, I bet they are.’

  ‘Oh, come on, Ryan. She hasn’t got that ball and chain attached to your frigging ankle just yet, y’know. Cut yourself a bit of slack, chill out. Enjoy yourself. Come on. I’ll get you a drink. What you having?’

  Ryan looked at his best friend, a smile finally finding its way onto his incredibly handsome face. ‘A large whisky. And… look, just… just don’t try to push me onto wome
n I have no intention of fucking later, okay?’

  ‘The night is still young, mate,’ Gary winked.

  ‘Gary…’

  ‘Okay, okay. I’ll leave it. I promise. Come on; let’s get you that drink and see if you can’t loosen up a bit. This new you is fucking freaking me out.’

  *

  Amber watched as Debbie opened another bottle of champagne, whooping with delight as the cork exploded into the air sending a cascade of liquid streaming from the top of the bottle. This was all for her, this celebration. It was the first of many planned Hen Nights, apparently, as Debbie had told her before they’d all piled into the back of the bright-pink stretch hummer she’d hired to ferry them around town all night. None of this was Amber’s style – all the brashness and the overt glamour. Oh, everyone was really nice, it was just that it wasn’t really her thing. She wasn’t used to hanging out in big groups; she wasn’t even used to having a friend around all the time, if she was honest. Ronnie had always been her best friend, but he’d also always been at arm’s length, almost, for a lot of the time, given his line of work. This being part of a large group of women was all a bit alien to her. But Debbie was doing her best to make Amber feel comfortable, even if the only place she really wanted to be was back home, cuddled up to Ryan.

  ‘You okay, chick?’ Debbie smiled, sitting down next to Amber, handing her a fresh glass of champagne.

  ‘I’m fine,’ Amber smiled back, taking a sip of the sparkling liquid.

  ‘Just missing your man, huh?’

  She looked at Debbie, sighing. Then she laughed – she couldn’t help it. ‘Jesus, how lame am I? It’s just been so long, Debbie. So long since I’ve felt this way, y’know? And it’s hard to get used to.’

  Debbie squeezed her hand, sitting back against the huge, oversized cushions that decorated the sofa they were sitting on in one of Newcastle’s trendiest bars. ‘Exactly how long ago has it been since you’ve felt this way, chick?’