His to Win (The Alpha Soccer Saga #1) (15 page)

As it began to wane she kissed him, vaguely aware that her hips were now being lifted and dropped back down by Patrick alone. She wasn’t moving. Rather than Ellie using Patrick’s gorgeous body to satiate herself, their roles had changed. Patrick was now seeking his release, her body simply a tool, a means to an end. His cock was in control now and it demanded satisfaction. She had no choice but to follow his lead.

His hips raised from the bed in time with her every assisted descent, and on his face she saw a focused glare that sent her to a new height.

A third orgasm started her pussy clenching him again, and it was too much for Patrick. His mouth open in a silent scream, his brain commanded him to pull her off before he came. The pleasure, however, was too intense and soul-searing. He instead took hold of her hips, pressing her tightly against him, letting the contractions of her orgasm milk his cock.

Ellie could feel him erupting inside her. Men had finished inside her before (she’d been taking birth control pills since her second year in college) but never like this. Each blast from the cannon between his sculpted thighs set her off into another aftershock.

When they were finally both finished, she dismounted and slid back up next to him, kissing his shoulder and face tenderly.

“How was that, Patrick?”

“Indescribable. Bloody fantastic. I’m speechless,” Patrick replied. “Please don’t be mad, I didn’t mean to, you know, inside, it was just so good.”

Ellie wrapped her leg around his and wrapped as much of her body as possible around his. “It’s OK, it was ‘bloody fantastic,’” she said, the last part in her best faux-British accent.

They locked eyes and exchanged smiles with a final round of tender kissing before falling back into blessed sleep.

Morning arrived too soon for either Patrick or Ellie but she had a plane to catch.

Patrick had breakfast sent up, bacon, eggs, juice, and some wonderful potato cakes Patrick called “tattie scones.”

The weary duo returned to Glasgow International Airport with Ellie’s suitcase, carry-on bag, and purse in tow with Jane Austen’s finest work in hand.

They bid their farewell with no shortage of kisses and hugs, and despite the best efforts from both parties, tears were shed. Patrick did his best to hide his, as Glasgow’s paparazzi sought to accompany the story of Patrick’s heroic crime-fighting escapades that had dominated headlines with pictures of the hero’s good-bye to his damsel in distress.

Sad as she was to be leaving Patrick, Ellie looked forward to her delayed reunion with Maisie and to sitting down with Meg over a bottle of wine to rehash every moment of her Ellie in Wonderland trip to the UK.

Patrick returned to the hotel, his flight to London wasn’t until late afternoon. He took a hot shower and spread out the books he’d picked up in Hay on the desk. He settled on
Tree of Smoke
by Denis Johnson, getting one hundred or so pages into it before deciding she’d be awake.

Sarah Sievert’s phone rang in Monck’s Corner, South Carolina, and she smiled at the sight of her only son’s name on the caller ID. She’d spoken to Patrick briefly after he signed the deal with Celtic FC, but she wanted to hear more about Glasgow and the team.

Instead, she nearly dropped her coffee cup when she heard what Patrick had to say.

“Mom, I’ve met a girl. She just might be the one.”

Weeks went by. Patrick had settled in Scotland. His flat was a few blocks from Paradise, the locally recognized moniker by which Celtic fans knew their home ground, Celtic Park. Patrick got on well with his new teammates, and he’d actually crossed paths with a handful of them in the past. Two had spent time at Chelsea, and one had been a youth player at Kidderminster where he’d trained from time to time on the top team with Patrick.

There were many reasons Patrick had decided on Celtic: familiar faces, a solid, talented lineup, a devoted fan base, and a stadium filled with ghosts from one hundred twenty years of Glasgow Celtic football. It was the perfect place for Patrick Sievert to put an exclamation point on his decorated career.

As well as everything was going, however, he missed Ellie terribly. They’d Skyped, e-mailed, Snapchatted, and communicated in all the myriad ways technology allowed but he missed
her
. The way she smelled, the way she kissed, the way she walked, things that didn’t translate through devices, no matter how smart they were. None of that could equal her presence.

Ellie, for her part, returned home to an anxiety-ridden Maisie and a boss expecting a stack of reports on her desk—sooner, rather than later. She also was hit with an inquisition from Meg, who demanded “every sordid detail, leaving nothing out.” There were even more questions from her family, all of whom had been tipped off by her brother Andy who’d fed them a convoluted tale about Ellie’s new “Ferrari-driving, rugby-playing, British boyfriend.” She’d had to correct many a misconception.

She eased back into her mundane life, but Patrick was never far from her thoughts and he consumed her dreams.

She cyber-stalked him of course, reading everything she could about his career and watched his highlights (and inevitable gaffes) on YouTube. Unless she had reason to go somewhere formal, when she wasn’t working she was almost always wearing something from the huge box of Celtic-themed, and (in some cases) Patrick-specific swag she’d been surprised by on her front porch ten days after arriving home.

Her casual wardrobe became almost exclusively green with the occasional blue nod to his former club, Chelsea. She was surprised how often she was out in public and her “Sievert” Celtic jersey would spark a conversation with a stranger. American soccer fans were more ubiquitous, and informed, than she’d imagined. She discovered that her local cable provider ran Scottish Premier League matches every weekend during the season, and in the interest of including a nagging Meg in her newfound interest in The Beautiful Game, her research led her to a Scottish Pub in Roswell. It was called the Green Terrier and advertised itself as “Atlanta’s Home for Hoops Supporters.” Celtic’s uniforms traditionally included horizontal green stripes wrapping around white shirts (or vice versa) from collar to waist, which resembled hoops, hence the nickname.

Life was good, and if anything Patrick was more persistent that they communicate regularly than even she was. Of course, all the chatting, texting, and instant messaging in the world were no substitute for watching the muscles ripple in Patrick’s forearms up close, or seeing every little movement cause a new muscle in his legs to contract and expand. She missed looking up into his blue eyes, the kindest eyes she’d ever encountered. Yes, he was sexy, but Patrick was such an inherently good man. Their passions for each other were linked in such a way that she couldn’t dismiss it as fate. She’d never allowed herself to believe in such things but this was the best thing about Patrick. He made her believe anything was possible.

“We play home and away against a Swedish team, and if we win we get to play this season in the Champion’s League. It’s a big tournament including the best teams from all over Europe. If we don’t, then we drop into the Europa League, sort of a second-tier affair,” Patrick explained to Ellie. He tried not to bore her with too many details of what he thought of as “work,” no matter that his work was covered by television, newspapers, and websites all around the globe.

It was a big part of his charm, in Ellie’s mind, the fact that despite his fame and fortune, he was so down-to-Earth. He was always so quick to steer conversations away from things he could certainly be forgiven for bragging about.

“I’d love for you to come to our first home match of the SPL (Scottish Premier League) season, if you can get away from work. I’ll pay for everything. If you want to bring Meg or one of your brothers, whomever you like, I’ll handle the tickets and hotel. You can come alone if you’d like of course, it’s just that during the season I don’t have nearly as much free time and I’d hate for you to be bored, sitting around waiting for me.  If work can do without you for a few days, I would love to see you. And if you want to see me, too . . .”

They both knew the last part of Patrick’s request was beyond superfluous. They communicated constantly, and more often than not the conversation turned to how much they missed each other.  By the time the first home game of Celtic’s season kicked off, the two lovebirds would have been, painfully, apart for almost two months.

Ellie had always thought of herself as a goal-oriented, career woman. If she was going to “settle down” with a husband and children, it would be after she’d made her mark professionally, established herself, and built up her 401k, that sort of thing. She didn’t want to juggle day cares, turn down promotions, and have to take school districts into account when deciding where to live. She’d grown up in a house where everybody was under the thumb of her domineering father who, although not a cruel man by any stretch, was a control freak. He had a difficult time leaving “coach” on the sidelines and becoming “dad” at home.

Patrick seemed the opposite of that. Her time with him showed her that although he was a man who could have what and who he wanted, when and where he wanted, he was blessed with humility and generosity.

She had no doubt he’d be a terrific father, even though they hadn’t really discussed children. He was genuinely interested to hear about Ellie’s eldest brother, Alex, and his wife, Stefanie, who was close to giving birth to the couple’s third child, Ellie’s first niece, little Abigail. Ellie adored her nephews, Albert and Charlie, and little made her light up the way she did when she talked about them.

She daydreamed about Patrick kicking a soccer ball around the backyard with a little toddler version of Patrick, Maisie nipping at their heels. She imagined herself sitting on the porch sipping something cold, her body heavy with their second child. “Amanda Eleanor Sievert,” her driver’s license might read.

“Ellie? Still there?”

Patrick’s voice interrupted her reverie.

“Yes! Sorry that was rude of me. But of course, coming to a match would be amazing. Meg would love to go, and my brothers would be thrilled as well. Alex would have to take a pass, of course what with Abigail on the way.”

Her second oldest brother Aric was in his third season following in his dad’s footsteps coaching high school football. He worked at a school near Richmond, Virginia. He couldn’t take a trip just as twice-daily practices were kicking into high gear.

Meg and Andy, Ellie’s other brother, were both available and excited about going. Ellie, however, didn’t feel right asking Patrick to spring for three transatlantic flights.

Rather than choose between them, Ellie offered a suggestion to Patrick.

“I know this is going to be weird, but I’m thinking about asking my dad along. Don’t worry, I’m not trying to crowbar you into any sort of a romantic commitment here. I just think it would be a really cool trip to take with my dad. He and I have never gone anywhere together, just the two of us. And he’s a huge sports fan. But he has no time for soccer, honestly, he thinks it’s for ‘sissies.’ I want him to see it up close, at the highest level, to change his mind. But Meg and Andy are both dying to go, too, and I haven’t mentioned it to my dad, so if you’re at all uncomfortable with the idea, just say so, nobody’s feelings will be hurt, I promise.”

“Do you think I’d pass on the opportunity to meet the great Coach P?” Patrick replied, instantly.

After thirty-four seasons as a high school football coach (“With three state championships and twenty-one league titles!” he’d be quick to remind anyone who’d listen), Al Peavey had retired from coaching the previous fall, after an overachieving team had scratched out a 9–3 record, losing in the second round of the playoffs. He had four grown children, three living out of state, and a third grandchild on the way. It was time to let somebody else have the whistle. The school had already named the stadium after him and his last team defied local sportswriters’ predictions of a losing season. Why hang on too long?

Ellie’s mother, Pamela, would fly to Charlotte to spend a week visiting her two grandsons and awaiting the birth of baby Abigail. Ellie had to promise Meg that if and when Patrick invited her to go along on his annual summer trip to Trinidad and there was room for a guest, that Meg had the right of first refusal, no matter what. Ellie agreed, knowing that according to Patrick, his best friend Shelton, the man he visited in Trinidad, was a ladies’ man of the highest order who preferred blondes. Meg might never return to Conyers.

Ellie and Al were bound for Glasgow.

Celtic had played four qualifying matches for the Champions League, a tournament that included the best teams from all over Europe, eliminating a team from Moldova by beating them in Glasgow and again in Chisinau. The second set of qualifiers were against the team that had won the Swedish league the previous season. Celtic drew with the Swedes 2–2 at home, but the return match in Stockholm ended as a goalless draw, meaning Celtic were eliminated due to an arcane rule that weighted goals scored away more heavily than those on home turf. Celtic had failed to score in the away leg, and they’d have to settle for the second-tier Europa League. The only consolation Patrick felt was that Shelton’s Portuguese team would also be playing in the Europa league, so there was a chance the old friends could meet competitively once again, something both men relished.

Patrick hadn’t been named to the active roster for the matches against the Moldovan team, who were considered minnows. Against the stronger Swedes, he’d been an unused substitute at home, but he started and played the full ninety minutes in Stockholm. Keeping a “clean sheet,” or shutting out the opponent, was a source of pride for goalkeepers and defenders alike, and the fact that Patrick was at the backbone of a defense that kept a clean sheet boded well for his role on the team during the upcoming year. The regular season home opener against Kilmarnock would be a chance for him to play in front of his home fans for the first time in Scotland.