Indulgence (263 page)

Parker spent a solid thirty minutes under burning hot water,
the huge lonely space he’d nurtured since getting off the plane from Louisville
receding for the first time. The hard workout he’d more or less guided everyone
through had helped. His natural leadership tendencies showed themselves in the
way the older men deferred to him.

He stood, hands on the cool tile forcing his brain to still,
as his body kept revving, sending tingles from his scalp to his toes before settling
firmly in his groin. He groaned and fisted himself, letting the water hit his
face as Christie’s body flashed briefly across his memory.

He gasped, went up on his tiptoes as the dark eyes and face
of the man who would be his nemesis appeared bright and compelling. The broad
span of his shoulders, trim waist, firm ass and thighs made his hand move
faster as the memory of the man’s lilting Spanish accent filled his
consciousness, firing his fevered brain.

His body clenched. He moaned as the room darkened. Warmth
coated his hand and stomach, as he held himself up against the wall, Nicco’s
dark face finally fading. He washed off, anger replacing the knee-jerk horny.

He was not that guy. He was not gay. He couldn’t be. Not and
fulfill his dream. He stepped out and dried off, yanking the new clothes on
before slapping on some cologne. All in a haze of confused frustration.

A quick memory of Christie, the woman who’d been the first
to convince him to wear scent, made him wince. She no longer played a part in his
life. He’d left her behind, along with everything else he knew, loved or
understood. A great well of loneliness yawned at his feet, making him gulp.

His phone buzzed. He answered as he threaded the new belt
through denim loops.

“What’s up tonight, Parker?” Kago had been at the field
today, and they’d had a great time with drills and chatter. He remembered now
mentioning getting something to eat together later. He winced.

“Oh, ah, I forgot I’m headed out with, um….” He sat,
wondering what had possessed him, thinking he could just “go out to a club.”

Kago laughed. “It’s cool, man. I was just calling to let you
know I’m lying low. Drank too much last night, ya know. And you killed me with
that workout.”

He dropped into a chair suddenly relieved and unsure why.
“Sorry. Want to run in the morning?”

“Sure. Behave yourself tonight. Garza will only corrupt
you.”

“How did you…?”

“I just do. Watch yourself, mate.”

“I’ll be fine. It’s just some club.”

The other man snorted into the phone, setting Parker’s
already rattled nerve endings alight. He put the phone down on the table and
took a deep breath commanding the vision of the dark-skinned, compelling man
out of his head for a few more minutes.

Nicco had already summoned a minivan taxi for them by the
time Parker met up with the five other teammates and an attractive,
dark-skinned man he’d never seen before. The steady stream of masculine
laughter, commentary on the day’s games in Europe, and ribald jokes about the
reputation of their interim coach filled the space, allowing Parker time to sit
back and observe.

The news that Metin Sevim had been coaxed out of retirement
and had agreed to lead them still shocked them all. Parker knew the guy’s
story—everyone who knew soccer did. It truly seemed small miracle he would be
showing up within days to coach them.

Nicco dominated the space. He seemed eager to share his
vast, deep knowledge of the Euro leagues. Of the other men in the van, only one
had played overseas. Everyone else was a raw rookie like Parker. The dark
stranger monopolized Nicco’s attention and Parker’s eyes fixated on the slender
hand he kept on Nicco’s thigh.

The trip to the heart of Greektown in Detroit took forty
minutes. During the trip, the men consumed shots of expensive Scotch, which
went straight to Parker’s head making him wish he he’d eaten something since
lunch.

At one point, when the laughter and voices were loudest,
Parker glanced over and locked gazes with Nicco. He frowned at the other man’s
raised eyebrow. What in the hell did he need to prove? Who was that other guy,
with his hand on Nicco’s leg? Jesus. It all felt contrived, a show for Parker’s
benefit.

He broke the moment and turned his gaze to the window
confused, pissed. The little kid at the grown up party sensation burned a hole
in his gut.

“So, Rollings, you got a hot young lady friend joining us
out here in the Motor City soon?” The other European older player, Lawrence
Williams, a Brit, slapped his shoulder, making Parker flinch at the sudden
attention the entire group directed his way. “Surely a strapping handsome lad
such as yourself has plenty of opportunity for bird watching before she shows
up?”

“Ah, there is no one. At the moment.” He took a nervous gulp
of his second Scotch. The group laughed louder at his cough as the alcohol burned
his throat.

“There’s a good lad. No one to disappoint, that’s my
theory,” The guy slammed his drink and leered into Parker’s face. “Variety is
the spice of life, eh, my fresh-faced American?”

“Bloody virgin if you ask me.” The man with the possessive
grip on Nicco’s thigh smiled into his glass.

“Be nice, Terry.” Nicco patted the man’s arm then leaned
over towards Parker placing a warm palm on his knee. “Don’t mind them, love.”
His lips tickled Parker’s ear, lingering over the “love” a little too emphatically
for Parker’s comfort.

He smiled weakly and sat back, processing how much of a
mistake he’d just made, agreeing to accompany this group downtown. Glancing
around, he noted all eyes on the awkward scene Nicco had just created.

Nicco’s gaze never left his, and for a moment Parker wanted
nothing more on the planet than to pull him close, cover his full lips with his
own, fist his hands in Nicco’s thick, dark hair. He shook his head at himself.
This could be a long night.

Within thirty minutes of arriving at Club Nubo, on the
penthouse level of the D-town Casino, Parker knew he’d made a serious mistake.
The huge space, lit only with flashing neon, boasted some of the most beautiful
human beings Parker had ever seen in his life. He tried not to gape as he
sipped a beer and took in the teeming dance floor.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when a barely dressed,
model-gorgeous woman touched his arm and ran her hand up his biceps. “Hmmm, new
to town, handsome?”

“Uh-huh.” Parker’s body reacted, but his eyes found Nicco as
if pulled by magnets. On the dance floor with what looked like two different
women, his lithe, fit body moving in time with theirs, the brutally handsome
Spaniard stared right at him.

Parker choked on his beer. The woman stepped away.

“Oh honey, I get you. Sorry.” She relaxed. “Have you met my
friend, Hugh?” She nodded across the bar to an incredibly tall, thin blond man,
who at that moment also stared at him, the bright blue of his eyes piercing and
intense. Parker stiffened. Did he give such a gay vibe? Jesus.

He made a valiant attempt to ignore the way his brain kept
pulling him back, kept forcing him to watch Nicco as he moved through the
crowd, dancing, groping, kissing. Parker’s mouth dried out at the show the man
put on, as the music level ramped up ever higher, the loud thump-thump of the
bass beating deep in his chest.

He sipped more beer, shoving away his growing uneasy feeling
at the whole scene. A couple of his teammates wandered by, both with beautiful
women hanging off their arms. One of them winked at him and jerked his chin
toward the chick next to him who’d somehow managed to figure out she wasn’t his
type.

Parker groaned inwardly. He didn’t even know his type
anymore. His conscious brain rejected what this place represented, what might
happen tonight. It simply could not. He would not allow it, no matter how badly
he wanted it right now.

His gaze wandered up and down the pleasant landscape of the
woman next to him, but he kept glancing back over to Nicco—the man, the legend,
his rival on the field, and the one man in the room Parker should avoid, but
couldn’t. He watched as the guy’s hands roamed all over the woman in front of
him. Saw the girl behind him moving around to clutch his neck, pull him in for
a long kiss as their bodies swayed, bumped, ground.

The other woman pulled her companion from Nicco’s lips then
landed a kiss on her mouth. Parker sucked in a breath, uneasy, but kept
watching as the women fondled each other on the dance floor moving all around
them.

Nicco looked up and caught Parker’s eye, then leaned back
into the dark brown arms of Terry, who’d come up from behind and gripped his
hips, seeming to grind his crotch against Nicco’s ass. Parker gulped, unable to
tear his eyes away, acutely aware of the strange voyeuristic connection they
shared.

One of the women moved in front of Nicco again and ran her
moist, pink tongue down his jaw as they moved to the music. The man gripped her
long black hair and pulled her face to his as his hand disappeared up her dress.
The crowd ebbed and flowed, giving Parker enough glimpses of them to be certain
where Nicco’s fingers had gone.

Terry ran his hands down Nicco’s arms, to his hips, miming
thrusts as Nicco tended to the woman who had just shot off into the orgasmic stratosphere.
As he raised his lips from hers, pulled his fingers from under her short skirt
and put them in his mouth, he looked right at Parker, winked, then turned the
full force of his erotic attention to Terry.

He faced the other man, dancing in a frenzy of strong male
bodies as the two women disappeared into the crowd.

Parker wiped the sheen of sweat from his forehead and forced
himself to look away. Could a human explode from lust? If he kept watching he’d
be certain to find out. Dropping into a chair in a dark corner, he gasped in
surprise to find a different woman draped over his lap, slim bare arms around
his neck, lips against his ear. “Hmmm…I like what you’ve got going on down
there.” She wiggled, bringing a fresh shot of pleasure and agony to his rock-hard
shaft.

“Uh, yeah, why don’t you, mmfff—” The woman’s lips covered
his and the hands he’d placed on her waist to lift her off him slid upward. She
tasted of wine, perfume, and a salty, unfamiliar essence he couldn’t place. The
pure male in him reacted, fisting a hand in her long hair, shoving his tongue
between her lips, tasting her strange combinations and loving it. She ground
down against his lap and ran her hands across his shoulders.

He broke away, embarrassed at his animal reaction. “Jesus, sorry,
I’m, oh shit.

She shifted and straddled him, pressing her breasts into his
chest. “It’s okay, sweetie.” Her breath tickled his ear.

Parker leaned away when he realized the same silky black
curtain of hair he wanted to latch onto Nicco had clutched earlier. The moist
heat of her obviously panty-less sex settled an ache deep in his balls. The
woman grinned at him. “You have the most amazing eyes,” she whispered. He
gripped her hips, held her still. The urge to fuck something, hard, had never
been so keenly intense in him. The simple, sweet, relationship he’d shared with
Christie had certainly not prepared him for this. An incredible pulse of raw
lust the likes of which he had never experienced made him want to shove the
woman against a wall and plow into her like a rutting bull.

She licked his lips, sharing the odd taste again—salty, and
somehow rich with possibility. He gripped the back of her neck, needing
something he couldn’t identify, but caused stars to dance around the edges of
his vision.

“I need to,” he groaned when she slipped a hand between them
and lowered his zipper with little effort. “No, I’m… Holy hell.” The soft
velvety skin of her palm, warm and pleasant, made him suppress a groan. He sat
up and bit her earlobe. “I need to fuck you. Now.”

She giggled and pushed him back. “No, you don’t, you
adorable thing, you. Alas, I’m just the fluffer.” He stared at her, breathless,
as she kept her hand busy right here in public in a clichéd dark corner of a
huge nightclub in Detroit. He groaned, pushed her off him and zipped back up.

When he stood, she wrapped herself around him, shoved her
tongue into his mouth once more before breaking away and touching the tip of
his nose with her finger. “You like how I taste, don’t you handsome?” He
nodded, suddenly incapable of speech, his brain buzzing with lust, anger, and
frustration. “I sucked Nicco’s cock earlier. He came all down my throat. That’s
him you’re tasting.” She licked his lips then stepped away, pulling her tiny
excuse for a skirt straight. “Let’s go, sweetie. I think I want to take you up
on your offer. You are way too cute to sacrifice to him.” Stunned, struck dumb
with horniness, he let her take his hand and pull him up a circular set of
stairs, crowded with people in various stages of make-out.

The thumping music and flashing lights made him dizzy as he
followed the woman’s bare legs up and up, until they stopped in a room lit with
a few lamps on tables, all shrouded with gauzy curtains. He could see arms,
legs, and hear noises his brain refused to register. Cocktail waitresses moved
about wearing little or nothing.

His nerves rubbed raw from over stimulation, he saw his
companion pull a curtain aside to reveal Nicco, Terry, and the other woman from
the dance floor, sitting with a bottle of scotch and languid expressions.

“There he is now.” The dark skinned man draped an arm around
Nicco’s shoulders. Parker sensed the dead giveaway facial flush and ducked in
next to the tall Spaniard, tugging the woman with him. She giggled and put a
brazen hand over his still rigid zipper, making him flinch. Terry burst out
laughing.

Fury surged through him. He glared around the table and
picked up a glass, downing it in one fiery, agonizing gulp.