Team Tomás (The Saints Team #2)

by Ally Adams

  He grimaced, as if that was way too hard. He left one arm around my waist and with the other, removed my hand from his shoulder and closed his fingers around it. He rocked me against him. I’m not sure what music was playing, as I was too distracted to notice.

  “That’s cute, Al...iss. So very old fashioned, but it is the twenty-first century,” he said with a small grin.

  I loved the way he said Alice—like the A was so important and it softened off to this sexy ‘lis’ sound at the end. Ah yeah, focus.

  “I’m not old fashioned,” I protested.

  “You just like to be hunted and you want me to be the hunter?” he asked, with one eyebrow raised.

  I got jostled by some over the top dancer behind me—hmm, I think it was a ploy by Melissa to push me closer to Tomás’s chest. Tomás didn’t move to straighten me up but I pulled away slightly; I didn’t want to look like one of his groupie fans. This conversation with Tomás wasn’t going well. I tried again.

  “Do other girls call you?”

  He shrugged. “Of course.”

  “So you give them your number?” I put him on the spot.

  Tomás grinned and taking his hand off my waist, he ran it through the shaggy, brown layers of his hair. He exhaled while he thought of a response. Then that hand found its way to my butt and rested there. Good response.

  I let him off the hook. “Well I guess I could call, but...”

  “Not even a text...” he started again with the hard-done by look.

  I smiled and rolled my eyes. “I text you back when you text me.”

  “You’re just not that into me Alice,” he teased and put his forehead on mine.

  I pulled back to look into his eyes. “No Tomás, you’re just spoilt for choice and I’m just...” I tried to find a good analogy that wouldn’t spoil the mood. “I’m just another cookie in your cookie jar.”

  Tomás’s head shot back and he looked at me with a huge grin. He burst out laughing. Even with all the music on the dance floor, people turned to look at him. I joined in the joke, but I think I went three shades of red and just wanted to crawl under the D.J.’s desk.

  He laughed so much that he had to lead me off the dance floor.

  One of the players came up and hit him on the back. “We’re going on a crawl, coming?”

  Tomás shook his head. “Nuh, Cookie and I are going to hang here,” he said.

  I cringed. Great, that’s going to be how he remembers me from the rest—not cute, sexy, funny, pretty, great in bed, nope none of those—he’s going to remember me as a cookie.

  *****

  Tomás sat with me and my friends and Lucas came over to join us. We had a hot table—I kept pinching myself, looking around at Tomás, Lucas, Mia and my college friends and thinking is this for real? But then I’d get the cold glares from some of the girls at the party and I knew it was for real and we had two of the team’s best players and cutest guys at our table. I wished I could get a photo but I didn’t want to look like a groupie. I wondered if I could get Melissa to sneak to the bar and take one without anyone noticing, but then she’d want to be in the photo... it’s tricky managing your own social media, I pondered. I could learn a lot from the Kardashians.

  I glanced to the bar and saw Finn Lalor looking my way. Yeah Finn, do you know how many times I tried to get you to look my way last semester? I did everything but become the football team mascot... and I would have done that too but I was too small for the horse costume!

  Tomás and Lucas picked up the drinks tab for the next hour or maybe it was two and I moved off the alcohol onto diet soda. I would have killed for a coffee... killed one of the girls pawing Tomás. Yeah, seriously, women were coming to the table to talk with him while he sat with me.

  Mia nudged me. “We’re going, do you want a lift?”

  I watched as Lucas kept his hand always on her... on her arm, her neck, somewhere. He was sober and driving. “Lucas is happy to drive you home.”

  Lucas looked over on hearing his name. “No problem, Alice,” he said. “We’re taking Cassie and Melissa too.”

  “We’ve got my car,” Mia explained. Only two would fit in Lucas’s Lamborghini. I began to wonder what Tomás drove and then he spoke up.

  “No, I’m going to get Al...iss home,” Tomás said. He was sober too. I guess they don’t drink much during the season—ah, the life of a professional athlete, and a definite bonus for the drinking girlfriend, even if two was usually about all I could handle.

  Lucas gave him a warning look and Tomás nodded. Nothing was said but obviously the look covered it. That was really sweet of Lucas. Mia always says he protects people in his orbit, I guess being Mia’s best friend, that’s me now. Things were looking up.

  “Are you ready to go, Cookie?” Tomás lowered his gorgeous head next to mine and whispered the words in my ear.

  I tried to look angry but ended up giggling. Even Cookie sounded so cute when he said it. Ah, this man was going to be the end of me. I nodded and we rose, Tomás helping me up. He pulled my jacket off the back of the chair and helped me put it on; so cute the way he joined it at the front as if he was protecting me from the cold—such a gentleman.

  I said goodbye to everyone and we jostled our way out of the club but not before two women passed Tomás their phone numbers—seriously—and he posed for three photos with fans. He gave a wave to some of the other players still there and collected me as I waited by the exit saying hi to Finn—tall, blond, athletic, green-eyed Finn—who was the subject of many of my erotic dreams last semester and it had nothing to do with his ball skills.

  Tomás took my hand and unapologetically pulled me away from Finn whom I managed to get a wave to as I was pulled out the door.

  “Who was that?” Tomás asked, as we walked into the quiet and the cool air of the night.

  “A friend from college. He’s the captain of the football team,” I said, sounding really proud as though that was a great thing because that was my college, forgetting I was talking to national sport star and super goalie Tomás Carrera. I’d had way too many margaritas, more than should be allowed for someone who had so little drinking experience.

  Tomás made a sort of snorting sound, as if Finn was playing the wrong code so was no threat. Or maybe it was a ‘Finn’s no competition for me’ snort. He put his arm around my shoulder and pulled me into him again and then I didn’t care who he snorted at. He looked at me and smiled, then kissed my forehead.

  “Did I tell you that you were gorgeous, Cookie?” he said, with a grin.

  “Uh huh,” I said, somewhat pissy. “You too, did I tell you that?”

  “No you didn’t,” he sighed. “All you’ve told me is that I have to call you and be the hunter.”

  “No I didn’t,” I said, confused. “Did I?”

  Tomás laughed at me and squeezed me tighter. We stopped in front of a beautiful black Ducati motorbike.

  “Is this your car?” I asked, yep, I said that.

  Tomás smiled. “This is my baby,” he said. He pulled a jacket from the under seat storage and slid it on. He looked so good in leather and I was about to wrap my arms around him and that leather jacket. He grabbed a helmet; funny he had two on him; he came prepared to take someone home. Sigh, lucky me. He turned and put it on me, tightening the strap under my chin and then patted the top of the helmet.

  “Okay?” he asked.

  I nodded, my head feeling very heavy with the helmet on. I looked down at my dress.

  “Yes, bella.” Tomás looked as well. “Might be tricky keeping that down on the bike. Good thing I won’t be able to see you flashing while I’m driving,” he said, and I noticed before he zipped up his jacket that he had a sizeable protrusion already at the front of his pants—that thought must have been working for him. He noticed me noticing and gave me another of those sexy smiles. Just kill me now, I’m a goner.

  I did my jacket up as well and watched as Tomás swung a sexy leg over the bike and straddled it. He looked s
o hot. He turned towards me and indicated I jump on. Hmm, I swung a leg over too, not that daintily given I had a dress on and the bike was big. Tomás started the bike and turned back to tuck my feet in and tell me where to keep them. Strappy sandals weren’t great for the bike. I tucked my dress under my legs.

  “All good?” Tomás asked.

  “Sure,” I answered and he pulled the bike away from the curb. I clung to him for dear life; my life mainly. It was bloody cold on the back of the bike; luckily Tomás was warm and hard. I know, those two words together just take you places.

  I’m such a bad drinker that I don’t become fun or the life of the party after a few, I just get sleepy—I needed some serious drinking practice. Even with the cold air whipping against me, I was struggling to keep my eyes open. I clung on hoping the ride wasn’t too long. My dad would kill me if he knew I was doing this—I would be the only twenty-one year old grounded for a year.

  And then about ten minutes later, or when I was just frozen enough to not be able to stand, Tomás pulled into the driveway of a huge house, the gate opened and he drove in. The garage door opened, and he drove in there as well—it was as though it was all synced. I guessed I was opening next!

  Chapter 4

  Tomás maneuvered the bike into the corner and turned the engine off. He pulled off his helmet and turned back to smile at me, still straddling the bike between his legs.

  “Welcome to my home, Cookie,” Tomás said, as he swung his leg over the bike and unclipped my helmet too.

  I pulled it off and handed it to him, then desperately tried to fix my flattened hair. Beside his bike in the large garage was a sporty little red Alfa. He put the helmets on a shelf in the garage and came back to lift me off the bike. It was as though the alcohol was a sedative. I was so relaxed and sleepy, but I didn’t want to miss out on a moment with Tomás ‘super goalkeeper’ Carrera. It felt as though I was taking part in a love scene in slow motion; I was the one—the chosen one to be with him, he brought me home. He lowered me to the ground and I adjusted my red dress, pulling it down.

  “Don’t worry, bella, I’ll have that off in a minute.” He pulled me closer and gave me a breathtaking kiss, stopping only to whisper in my ear, “I can’t wait to fuck you, Al... iss, you are so gorgeous.” It was the first time he had used my name since the Cookie christening incident.

  Tomás grabbed my hand and led me out of the garage, opening the door into his house and ushering me in. It was dark but I didn’t have to worry about finding my way, Tomás steered me in and pressed me hard against a wall. The house was silent and all I could hear was Tomás’s breathing and my heart pounding. The energy between us... the tension... he must have been feeling it too because his breathing was getting faster and my heartbeat was like a drum.

  “I want you, Al...iss...” he moaned, his tongue slipping between my lips and his erection pressed hard against me. It felt enormous and I could barely breathe for the weight of him pressing me into the wall. I inhaled his scent, warm, spicy, so manly. His hands seemed to be everywhere—running across my back, in my hair, touching my face. My tongue touched his and he groaned.

  Tomás grabbed my hand and pushed it down to his crotch to feel his erection through his jeans. He was pushing hard against the denim. I didn’t know what to do with my hand there, whether to squeeze or rub. It felt like too much too soon, as if we had skipped five steps or something. I pressed on his hardness and his body twitched against my palm.

  He roughly pushed against my lips and I jumped with surprise as he nipped my lip. The ladies at the Shaken Not Stirred bar were right—he could be rough. One of his hands pulled me tight against him. I could barely move now as his tongue pushed harder into my mouth. His other hand travelled down across my breast and I gasped as all my nerve endings, especially in my nipples, were on full alert.

  Suddenly, I felt an arm under my knees and my feet were swept off the ground as Tomás scooped me up. He hurried up the stairs with me in his arms without even getting just the tiniest bit breathless... that man was fit.

  We entered a large room at the end of a corridor and Tomás took me straight to the bed—a king size, black, four-poster wrought iron bed. I was dropped down in to the middle and Tomás crawled straight onto me, kissing me and stroking my breasts again through the fabric of my dress. I couldn’t get my breath; it was all happening fast, too fast for me to catch up. I wanted my first time ever—and my first time with Tomás—to be romantic. I had pictured a slow night, a subtle wine, maybe candlelight... I know, but they always have candlelight on The Bold. Then plenty of long, slow kisses, slow undressing...

  Tomás pulled his shirt off and began to unbuckle his jeans, all the time looking down at me. He slid his jeans off and I had my first sighting of an almost naked Tomás. I wasn’t like a category one virgin... I had had boyfriends, kissed, sucked, done a few things, but I had never gone the whole way. Here was the most gorgeous body I’ve ever seen in a pair of fitted boxer-briefs and a huge bulge that was going to do some damage. I think I began to hyperventilate.

  In a raging hurry, Tomás pulled me to sitting position and began to zip my dress down. He took it off over my head. I had on a matching red bra and pants—nothing lacy because I wasn’t expecting to go to bed with Tomás tonight... damn it, but they were satin. My dress was gone; it took all of a minute. He laid me back down.

  “How do you like it, bella?” he asked, and tilted my face towards him. Tomás lowered himself on top of me again, holding his weight on his elbows. He pressed his erection between my legs, impatiently, expecting me to free him of his boxer-briefs I guess. When I hesitated he made a suggestion.

  “Let’s see your gorgeous behind and start there,” he teased, and flipped me over. I felt his fingers hitch into my panties and I gasped. Tomás stopped. “Unless you have something in mind?” He moved to see me side-on and raised his eyebrow at me suggestively.

  “I’ve never had anything before,” I said, “so...”

  Tomás stopped. He turned me back over to look at him. “What? Al...iss, what did you say?”

  “I’ve never done it before, so you pick what you like,” I said.

  Tomás’s mouth fell open and he moved off me.

  “No, no, not like this.” He shook his head. “Why didn’t you say you were a virgin? Fuck!” He took a deep breath. “That is special Al...iss, it must be intimate... or at least a gift given to lovers.”

  I pulled myself up on my elbows and Tomás, still in over-reaction mode, threw the quilt over my body. I was wearing my underwear; it was not as if I was naked.

  “Why didn’t you say?” he asked me again.

  “Because...” I shrugged, “... I want you to be my first time.”

  Tomás rolled his eyes. “Saints in heaven, Al...iss, not like this. Your first time is not to be wasted when you are half-pissed with a guy who gives you a rough ride, shit.” He continued swearing under his breath for a few moments, and then pulled himself off the bed and went into the bathroom, closing the door.

  I don’t know what he was doing in there but I took a guess he was relieving himself of the major erection that was just about to bore into me. I waited and listened but he was super quiet. I decided to just close my eyes for a few minutes; the bed was so comfortable and I was snuggled under the quilt. I could smell Tomás’s manly, spicy scent on the pillow.

  And that’s how I ended up talking with Tomás’s sister, Valentina, the next morning. I know hundreds, even thousands of girls would have been excited to have had Tomás’s arm around them, leading them out of the club and being taken home to his place on the back of his bike. But in the cold, hard light of day, I felt a bit... slutty. How many people had seen me going home with Tomás and now, I was one of those girls. Maybe I just needed to get over myself.

  Then, it got worse; no word from Tomás for days… even when I sent a text to say I was sorry that he had to abandon his bedroom for me, he shot back a two-word text: “no problem”. Kill me now.

>   Chapter 5

  “I’m not here,” I called out as my bedroom door was banged on, again.

  “Ali…” My annoying seventeen-year-old brother, Ryan, sighed. “Dad said if you don’t get up and show us you’re still alive he’s calling an intervention of all your friends or the police, depending on whether you’re just faking it or really are dead.”

  “Fine then.” I pushed the quilt off and realized I was a bit hard on the nose. I opened the door and my brother reeled back screening his eyes and yelling in terror.

  “Very funny,” I told him. I went the two steps it took to reach our living room. Our whole house was the size of Tomás’s garage... which reminded me of my new rule—everyone was now banned from saying the name Tomás to me.

  “Dad, I’m alive.” I presented myself as evidence.

  His hand went straight to his heart. “Praise the Lord,” he said and Ryan laughed. Dad rose from his chair and walked towards me. He gave me a hug; a strong hug that said he knew all about the pain of relationships and he did. He had been through a few since he got back on the horse after Mom’s death when I was fourteen. So in that respect, my dad was pretty in touch.

  “Do you want Ryan and me to finish him off for you?” Dad teased.

  I shook my head. “No, I hope to do that myself, but thanks. I’m going to shower.”

  “Good idea,” Ryan said.

  I gave him a grim look.

  “I bought ice-cream,” Ryan added, trying to cheer me up. I looked at my handsome brother, who I swear had shot up a foot in height in his last year of school and looked like a carbon copy of Dad—the strong, silent, bookish type.

  I smiled at him. “You’re my favorite brother, Ryan.”

  “I’m your only brother,” he reminded me, giving me a dark look.

  “Then you’ve got less competition,” I said brightly and headed to the bathroom in our one-bathroom house. Twenty minutes later when I came out sparkling clean and with washed hair, Mia was sitting on the couch watching soccer with my dad. My brother, who has had a crush on Mia for most of his life, was hovering between the kitchen and lounge. He turned and went back into the kitchen and I nearly fell over when Ryan and Lucas came out of there together. The world’s number one soccer star was carrying drinks for the family and Ryan was following behind with snacks. This was all too much; I wasn’t up to it.