by Toria Lyons
He often took work calls on his mobile. During that time, his whole demeanour changed. His face would harden like on the rugby pitch. His total focus was on the call, with no mercy towards the caller. He issued commands to be obeyed, detailed instructions to be followed when needed, and he asked incisive questions to get to the heart of the issue.
Sarah found his whole manner fascinating and realised he was as much at home in a boardroom as on the pitch. Even more so, he could concentrate on business matters whereas his knee would sometimes bother him while he was playing: the heavy strapping he wore around it increased with every game.
They didn’t stay in the flat the whole time. Despite Sarah’s reservations, they went out for quiet meals in out-of-the-way places, took Sunday walks down by the coast. They’d even been to a couple of local club games together.
One time, she’d sneaked into the changing room after everyone else had gone and he’d taken her on the varnished wooden benches. On another occasion, they had done it with her sitting on his lap in the stands, his body hot, sweaty and muddy from training. They had heard his oblivious teammates singing loudly in the showers as he’d plunged into her, muffling her moans with his mouth, mud-covered hands pushing under her layers of clothes.
Now, as she sat in the club bar, the memory of that made her shiver. She licked her lips and, as if he’d felt it, Tom looked around, catching her widened eyes. ‘Behave,’ he mouthed at her.
Sarah blushed. ‘What?’ She tried to look innocent.
‘Later.’ His blue eyes sizzled at her.
Her body thrilled at his heated promise and she had to steady her breath.
A handful of the other players noticed his attention wandering. They searched around to see who he was talking to, but to no avail; Sarah had already averted her gaze and was digging spuriously in her handbag. Only Alex had witnessed the whole exchange and she noticed him smiling into his light beer.
Sarah had confided all in trustworthy Clare; there was no way that she could hide it from everyone and her friend was very good at distracting people so that they missed the terribly obvious. Clare actually enjoyed the skulduggery: it appealed to her quirky nature and it was a marvellous diversion from her heightening crush on Alex. Alex, who she no longer spoke to but who had a different girl all over him every single week, and who had managed to establish quite a reputation for himself in the intervening month. There was constant gossip about his antics, and puzzled whispers that even though Tom was apparently single, no girl had had any success with him. Now that Alex suspected or even knew what was going on between them, it wouldn’t take long for everyone else to find out.
‘Oh bollocks!’ Sarah cursed out loud as she realised the implications.
‘What’s up?’ Clare was standing next to her, texting a friend.
‘Alex just noticed Tom and I had a little … flirt, and now he’ll probably tell anyone who’ll listen.’
‘You really think so? Hang on, don’t worry. He’s off to the gents’ now; I’ll catch him and have a word.’ Clare chucked her phone into her bag and smoothly moved to intercept Alex’s path, slipping in front of him.
‘Alex, follow me.’ Clare commanded him under her breath as she passed. Without argument, Alex followed her through the double doors of the club, outside into the night and around the corner into the dark shadows.
‘Alex-mmpf!’
He spun Clare around and pressed her up against the rough brick wall, an arm on either side. ‘Clare.’ He leant closer. ‘What can I do for you that can’t wait?’
Clare fought the distraction of his body around her and gathered her thoughts. ‘Keep your mouth shut, please.’
‘What, like this?’ He planted a closed-lip kiss on her mouth. ‘So, why no tongues?’ he teased.
Clare stared at him, unsure what to do. In the uncertain glow cast by the outside lights, she couldn’t see his face properly. ‘No, I meant about what you saw in there.’
‘What, about their assignation? And that they’re sleeping together? Not that I think they do that much actual sleeping.’ Alex laughed. ‘What’s it worth?’
‘What do you mean, what’s it worth? I’m just asking you to keep your mouth shut for the sake of their relationship. You’re his friend, aren’t you?’ Clare tried to move away, to duck under his arms.
Alex stymied her escaping wriggles by planting one leg between hers. He laughed. ‘You know, this is doing something for me. What about a kiss to keep this titbit quiet?’
‘A kiss?’ echoed Clare. ‘Why?’
‘Humour me.’
‘Is that what you say to all the girls? No thanks, I don’t know what I’d catch.’ Clare tried to ignore the butterflies swarming in her stomach.
‘I can promise you I’m bug-free. One kiss – we’ll keep it between us and I’ll not mention about Tom and Sarah to another soul until it becomes public knowledge by another means.’
Clare contemplated what she could see of him, the silhouette of his body towering over hers. It was very tempting, and she was curious about him. Taking Alex by surprise, her hands shot up and yanked his head down to hers. She paused, increasing the tension. Slowly, she licked the seam of his lips, and as they parted, darted her tongue inside to touch his. She softly slanted her mouth across his, leisurely savouring him. He tasted so good, and she felt her control quickly slipping away.
Clare broke the kiss, turning her head so he couldn’t follow her lips, and concentrated on keeping her breathing regular. ‘There. One kiss. May I go now?’
Alex was silent for only a moment. ‘I meant I would kiss you. Now it’s my turn.’ He trailed one hand up her neck to hold her hair. As she gasped, he took advantage of her open lips and sank his mouth onto hers, tangling with her tongue.
Clare kissed him back, hot sensation stabbing through her body, much-prized restraint lost. She moaned, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, running a hand through his hair. Craving more contact, she lifted a leg and using it to pull him closer. She whimpered at the feel of his strong, muscular body and undulated against him, rising onto tiptoes; there was a bulge she just had to get …
He pulled his head up with a groan. ‘Wow, I should have done this before now – you’re really something.’
Reality returned to Clare like being dunked in a bucket of iced water. She tore herself away and slapped him across the cheek. ‘Bastard! You disgust me.’
As she rushed away he called out, ‘Disgust’s not what you felt during that kiss. It’s a deal, though. Not a word to another soul. That means both of us. Not even Sarah can hear about this. Otherwise …’
Clare heard him laugh as she re-entered the club. For a moment she faltered, then forced a smile back on her face before walking over to Sarah. ‘Problem sorted. I reasoned with him and he thinks it’s best to keep quiet.’
Sarah smiled in relief. ‘Thanks so much. I owe you one. I got you a drink in.’ She handed Clare a clear glass of what looked like their usual strong crisis drink.
Clare took it, swilled a mouthful, swallowed, then downed the rest. ‘Thanks, I needed that. I’ll have to pop off now – had a text from a friend and we’re going to meet early tomorrow. Take care.’ She hugged Sarah, grabbed her coat, and waved goodbye to everyone else in the club. On her way out, she passed Alex coming back in. He held the door open for her.
‘Going so soon?’ Alex asked smugly, then chuckled as Clare muttered something anatomically impossible before he let the door swing shut behind her.
He wandered over to a puzzled Sarah. ‘Clare in a bit of a rush?’
‘She’s meeting a friend. Thanks for you-know-what.’
‘Not a problem. Don’t tell Clare that her efforts were in vain, though. Tom swore me to secrecy a couple of weeks back after I cottoned on. Although I can’t see what the big deal is – you’re both allowed to have a sex life, aren’t you?’
Sarah delayed responding by taking a gulp of her drink. ‘I don’t want people talking about us. You boys are bigger goss
ips than most old women. And I’m the one who’ll still be at the club after Tom leaves. Plus, Clare had a bad experience a while back and we both decided not to date first-team players.’
‘Clare did? Who with?’
‘You don’t know them – they’ve left now.’ Despite Alex’s questioning look, she refused to elucidate. ‘Just leave it alone.’
‘But have a think about it. Tom wouldn’t take anyone saying anything about you even when or if you break up. He’s not that kind of guy: he’s always been honourable and a complete gent with the ladies. Not like me.’ Alex grinned wickedly.
‘Speaking of which, your fan club is getting impatient.’ Sarah nodded at a group of girls dressed to kill and certainly staring daggers at her for monopolising Alex.
Alex glanced at the girls who immediately began flicking hair and fluttering eyelashes. ‘Oh yes, the lovely ladies. You must excuse me now; my fan club, as you call it, awaits.’
Alex sauntered over to the girls who instantly surrounded him. He glanced back at Sarah who shook her head and rolled her eyes in mock disgust, eventually chuckling at his cheesy, self-satisfied grin.
‘What are you two up to?’ Tom had come up behind her.
Sarah gave herself a moment to eat him up appreciatively with her eyes. He’d sustained a bruise and a small graze on his cheekbone in their win earlier, but that only emphasised his masculinity. The past month of dedicated training and playing had also hardened his body and enlarged his already considerable bulk; she felt increasingly feminine and delicate beside him. ‘Just teasing him about his women friends. Clare had to leave and I’m just on my way now. Will I see you in a bit?’ She struggled to keep her voice light.
‘I have to get you back for earlier on, don’t I? I was left in an uncomfortable position for a while.’ As Sarah fought the urge to bite her lip, he ran his hot eyes up and down her body. ‘I’ll be with you in a few hours; I need to have a word and a quick drink with Alex.’
Sarah didn’t follow up his comment; she just smiled tightly and made her way to the exit, thinking of all the women currently surrounding Alex who would love to get their hands on another specimen. While she would be sitting at home, waiting like a housewife. She decided to call Clare – this “meeting a friend” excuse had come out of nowhere and they needed to catch up and have a proper night out.
Once out of the club and walking, she fished out her mobile, scrolled down to Clare’s number and rang her. ‘Clare? I know you said you needed to go but it’s only seven; you’ve got plenty of time to get some sleep. Fancy going for a bite to eat?’
‘That sounds like a great plan. But I thought you were arranging an assignation with Tom?’
‘I think I can manage a night without him.’ Her body twanged in protest at her words. ‘Where are you?’
‘Walking back towards you now.’
She looked up, saw Clare at the end of the road, and waved and jogged to catch up. ‘Where do you fancy?’
‘What about that noodle bar and then a few drinks in the White Lion?’ suggested Clare. ‘It’ll be busy, though, as all the other local rugby teams drink there.’
‘Sounds great. If it’s packed it’ll add to the atmosphere.’
Clare finished her last mouthful of noodles and watched as Sarah texted Tom. ‘Will he be annoyed?’
‘I don’t know. Perhaps. It’ll do some good to break the routine. And it’s even better in bed when he’s being possessive.’ Sarah blushed as her body cried again for his touch. Resolutely, she turned off her phone. ‘And if he does get annoyed with me, so what?’
Clare studied her. ‘If you insist. Ready to go?’
The two departed and walked the few minutes along the pavement and down the passageway that led to the White Lion. Clare pulled open the side door and the noise hit them like a concussion: music and people talking, laughing and the chinking of glasses.
‘It is busy, isn’t it? My round,’ Sarah half shouted as she followed Clare into the packed interior with its low ceilings and rugby memorabilia along the walls. They waved at a couple of supporters she knew from the Park, and Clare went over while Sarah visited the bar.
Despite the crowd, it didn’t take long to get served and, as she made her way back over with the drinks, she saw a couple of the Park players from the amateur side of the club had come in and joined Clare, who seemed to be determinedly enjoying herself.
‘Sarah, you know Danny who plays prop for the thirds?’ Clare nudged the shorter of the two hunks next to her.
Danny, who had a wild mop of curly blond hair, a jutting chin and smiling eyes, appeared to be in his 30s but still fit enough for the tussles of the front row. He continued the introductions. ‘And this is Kiwi Adam, who’s new around here and fancied a game. Although he was a few leagues above us today, he scored most of our points – and from a second row, that’s not bad.’
Adam was taller – much taller than Danny – and younger, with short, dark hair and blue eyes, similar in build and looks to Tom except slimmer. He smiled shyly at Sarah. ‘Hi there, it’s just Adam. Sorry, I didn’t catch your name. It’s rather loud in here.’ His voice had a soft accent.
Sarah smiled back, immediately liking him. ‘Sarah. And I agree, it is a bit loud. So, how was the game?’
‘Different. I need to get fit; I’ve only just moved here and not done any proper training for a while. Eighty minutes nearly finished me off.’
They moved closer. Adam asked her about the club and her background. She found out from him that he’d played to a high level in New Zealand and was hoping to continue playing while he stayed in London. She felt comfortable with him and his eyes rarely strayed from her. The drinks kept coming and they kept talking.
Danny and Clare were definitely flirting: his arm had moved around her waist and their heads had bent together. Clare was playing with her hair and lightly touching his arm, a soft smile lighting her face. Sarah grinned, relieved that Clare was enjoying herself.
‘So, Sarah, may I ask, are you single?’
‘Hmm?’ Sarah looked up at Adam and didn’t know what to say. ‘Yes – well, no. It’s … complicated.’ Adam tried to hide his disappointment and Sarah went to reassure him. ‘I can’t really say. Ask me again in a couple of months and it may be different.’ Her heart dropped and she struggled to conceal a frown.
‘I will. And I’ll ask you out for a drink if you’re single –’ he suddenly looked worried ‘– if you don’t mind, that is.’
‘I don’t mind at all.’ Sarah smiled at him and placed a friendly hand on his arm.
‘Good, I’ll keep my fingers crossed.’
‘Ha! You’ll have been snapped up in the meantime.’
‘Well, only if I meet another gorgeous, hazel-eyed brunette who’s single. Oh look – there are more Park people coming in. Do you know them?’
Sarah glanced over, her heart in her mouth. One of the doors was open and some familiar faces were walking in: some of the players from earlier and one of the coaches, Chris. She waited a few heartbeats to see if Tom would appear but there was no sign of him. ‘They’re some of the first team; they don’t often go out around here. If they come over, I’ll introduce you.’
‘That’d be great. I’ve got a way to go fitness-wise but I’d love to start training with them. I know they train full-time but a lot of my hours are flexible.’
‘You should have a word with Chris; with your background, you may even get a game.’ She caught the eye of the coach as he walked past and made the introductions. The other players came over and they all crammed up in the corner, quizzing Adam on his experience. He was bashful to begin with but soon relaxed and they started swapping tales.
Sarah found herself squashed next to Adam, surrounded by the Park players. Her glass was topped up as she enjoyed the banter.
‘We’re just waiting for a couple of others to get here.’ Chris lifted an arm and waved at an imposing figure coming through the door and towards them. ‘About time too, Tom. We’d
about given up on you. Here’s your beer. This is Adam: he’s the Kiwi player who joined the thirds today and kicked some opposition ar – backside. You know the lovely Sarah, don’t you?’
Tom nodded and smiled tightly at her. She briefly met his shadowed eyes then concentrated on her drink. Her body silently sang with joy as Tom edged closer, then she restrained a gasp as he placed a hand on her hip and managed to insinuate himself between her and Adam, his face a neutral mask.
He smelled delicious: a mixture of his masculine shower gel and the essence of Tom. She could feel the heat from his body calling out to hers and struggled not to curve her body involuntarily into his, to remain two separate entities. But his wandering hand was testing her resolve. Out of sight, his fingers had travelled into the waistband of her jeans and were playing with the sensitive skin on her hip, her spine, worming down to tug lightly on her skimpy thong. She had to concentrate to control her breathing, the heat was building so fast between her legs. Sarah continued nodding, as if she was actually listening and understanding the indistinguishable voices around her.
‘Watch it, mate.’ A drunk man stumbling past lost his balance and fell into the group of Harford players, jostling them and spilling drinks. Tom pulled Sarah into him as if to protect her, but sneakily pressed his hips into her buttocks, lifting her into him. He felt fully aroused; the imprint of him through her jeans was enough to tip Sarah over a small cliff, her inner muscles fluttering wildly. Her gasp was lost in the general mayhem of the bouncers escorting the drunk out; she fought the instincts of her body and managed to pull herself away.
‘Got you back,’ Tom whispered in her ear. ‘I promised I would. Now, I’ll give you ten minutes to make your excuses. I’ll meet you in the passageway.’
‘No.’ Sarah met his eyes and was startled to see the blazing fury within. She softened. ‘Give me an hour. My flat. And keep your hands to yourself.’
He smiled in triumph and nodded, mockingly crossing his hands on his chest, swinging his bottle of beer from his fingertips. ‘Isn’t tonight the night? I’ve been looking forward to it all week.’
