Playing Up

Read Playing Up Online

Authors: Toria Lyons

Tags: #sports, #sports romance, #sports erotica, #curvy woman, #rugby club, #rugby sex, #rugby romance, #sports series, #harford scarlet series, #rugby player

BOOK: Playing Up
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Playing Up: Harford Scarlet Series Prologue

 

Copyright 2014 Toria Lyons

Published by Toria Lyons at Smashwords

 

 

 

Smashwords Edition License Notes

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Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

About Toria Lyons

Other books by Toria Lyons

Connect with Toria Lyons

 

Chapter One

The
thumping nightclub music segued into a popular floor-filler and the
excited crowd surged around her, almost knocking her off her
too-high heels. Sian caught her balance just as two warm, strong
hands wrapped around her waist and steadied her from behind. She
sucked in her stomach, conscious of the extra few pounds spilling
over the waistband of the close-fitting trousers, and wondering who
the gentleman was who was quick enough to notice she was in
distress. The sea of revellers calmed, and the hands were removed
as quickly as they appeared.

She carefully swivelled on her heels to see
Rob standing close to her, wide shoulders protecting from further
upset. A hot spark zinged through her belly. ‘Thanks for that,’ she
acknowledged with a smile, shouting over the music.

He smiled back, his straight white teeth
shining in the club lights, contrasting with his short dark mussed
hair. ‘No problem, just glad you didn’t slap me for touching you
without permission.’

So many responses flashed through her brain:
that he could put his hands on her any time and she wouldn’t
object; that she‘d love to touch him; that she’d want them to touch
each other. She opened her mouth to say something but his attention
was already distracted by a drink being handed to him. She decided
to leave it with a smile, ‘See you later.’

As she walked carefully away, she mentally
kicked herself for not saying something more imaginative, something
flirtatious to get his attention.

Clare was by the corner of the bar ordering a
couple of drinks and Sian joined her. ‘You’ll never guess what I’ve
gone and done now,’ she yelled over the music.

‘It’s got to be something embarrassing by the
look of regret on your face. Spit it out,’ commanded Clare.

‘Not really, but I completely missed out on
an ideal flirting opportunity with Mr Powell,’ she groaned. ‘I
almost fell into his arms due to these stupid shoes and this bloody
carpet, and all I could think of was a “See you later”. I’m so shit
at flirting.’

‘Never mind, you’ve got all night to make up
for it. And, despite the cheesiness of this place, there’s other
fish in the sea.’ Clare gestured around the packed nightclub.
‘Flames hasn’t changed much in the years we’ve been coming here;
there’s the sticky carpets, the naff decor and music, and the
perennial Saturday night rugby hordes looking for women to pull.
Plenty to choose from there.’

Sian thumped her forehead against the nearby
wall, ‘But I can’t stop thinking about him; I have trouble even
looking at other men. He‘s just so, so hot. He really does it for
me.’ She pulled a strand of her long, curly, light brown hair
forward, covering her deep cleavage, ‘But he’ll never be interested
in me.’

Clare patted her arm sympathetically, ‘Don’t
think like that. It’s his loss. Rugby players don't often meet
normal women for all the glamorous types swarming around. Although
he‘s not my type, Rob’s bloody attractive. For a prop.’

Sian snorted, ‘Damned with faint praise,
thanks. We’ve never established what your type is though.’

Clare pulled a face, ‘Not tossers like that
Luke. Although I can’t control my hormones, they seem to decide for
me. Damn things.’

‘Talking of hormones, and keeping them under
control, where’s Sarah disappeared off to?’

They both looked around for their normally
reserved friend, to see her laughing and joking a few yards away
with a couple of dark-haired and well-built admirers.

‘Who’s that she’s with?’ shouted Sian.

Clare yelled back, ‘That’s Nick and Sam, they
used to play for Harford Park. Both of them ask her out quite
regularly, but she always says no.’

‘She really doesn’t want a relationship, does
she?’

‘No, she doesn’t believe she’s suited for
them, especially not with a player. I have to agree with her after
the Luke debacle; I definitely got my fingers burnt. Now, let’s
dance.’

They left their drinks in a quiet corner with
a couple of familiar faces keeping an eye on them, and moved a few
feet to the dance floor to enjoy the rhythm of the music. Every now
and again, each discreetly signalled and laughed when they saw an
attractive man looking their way. Sian caught a few glimpses of Rob
but purposefully kept her eyes away. When Sarah joined them, a
thirsty Sian went to reclaim her drink, discovering that Rob’s
group was only a few yards away from them.

As she drank, she tried not to look, but
found her gaze was drawn irresistibly towards him. His body just
flat-out did it for her, from the dark T-shirt which clung lovingly
to his thickly muscled upper body, to the well-worn jeans which
hugged his tight arse and strong, broad thighs. He turned around
and caught her looking his way. His eyes smiled at hers, ‘How are
you?’ he mouthed.

‘Great,’ she smiled back, ‘Good game last
night?’

He looked puzzled as if he couldn’t hear her
and gestured that he’d come over. As he stepped nearer, her belly
began to roil with nerves and anticipation.

When he was closer, she tried again, ‘Good
game last night?’

‘Not bad. It was nice to get the whole eighty
minutes.’

‘For a prop that’s like running a
marathon.’

He laughed, ‘That’s quite accurate, except
for more bruises.’

‘First time this season too?’

‘You’re correct, it was.’ He stared more
curiously at her.

Silently she cursed herself; that was too
observant. ‘Someone else worked it out, not me,’ she filled, ‘but
it looked like you still had plenty of energy, that was a great
try-saving tackle in injury time.’

‘Thanks again. How long have you been
supporting Harford Park?’

‘Since I moved here from Cornwall six months
ago.’

‘Isn’t Sian a Welsh name?’

‘My mother liked it, and my father was half
Welsh. He insisted on the spelling, S I A N not how it’s
pronounced, Sharn.’

‘Oh, OK then.’

They stood awkwardly, Sian trying to control
the butterflies in her stomach. ‘So, do you come here often?’ she
quipped lightly.

‘Now and again. As it was a Friday game this
week, we have training early tomorrow. I’m only having a couple of
beers tonight as I’m driving some of the boys home later.’

‘That’s nice of you.’

‘I’m a nice man.’

‘I can see that, I mean…’ she was glad that
the dim lighting covered her blush, ‘I mean you seem like a nice
man. I don‘t know you well enough to agree. You could be an
axe-wielding maniac for all I know.’

‘Do you know many axe-wielding maniacs
then?’

Sian giggled, ‘Just one or two, for some
reason they seem to be attracted to me.’

‘I can see why,’ Rob appraised her
appreciatively, from the deep cleavage bared in the semi-revealing
top down to the glitzy but flimsy heels precariously strapped to
her feet.

The butterflies intensified their fluttering
and moved lower down, Sian shifted in place and took a gulp of her
drink, finishing it and setting the empty glass on a nearby ledge.
‘I suppose I better be getting back to the dance floor, Clare will
be wondering where I am.’

‘She’s dancing with Sarah now.’

‘Still…excuse me,’ she went to pass Rob but
in her agitated state she managed to step awkwardly and her ankle
turned slightly.

Rob caught her around her waist again and
helped her get her balance back. Again, she sucked in her tummy but
this time his hands didn’t move away. ‘Are you OK?’

‘I’m fine, I’m not usually such a klutz but
this carpet sticks to my heels. Thank you for being a hero once
more.’ She dabbed a kiss on his cheek, almost swooning as the
combination of his spicy aftershave and him drifted up into her
lungs. Yum, he smelled so good. Her legs nearly gave way and she
was grateful for the hands holding her up.

‘You sure?’ he turned his face towards
her.

‘Yes, thank you,’ she breathed.

They froze in place for a few seconds as
their eyes met again, and their lips met, and met again. The first
touch of his hot tongue electrified her body, the second nearly
made her swoon. He tasted of beer, and essence of full-blooded
male. She murmured with pleasure, taking the kiss deeper and moving
closer to him. Her hands rose to grasp his shoulders, run down his
back and pull him closer towards her.

He deliberately seduced her with his tongue,
working firmly into her again and again, demanding a response. Her
body hummed with bliss at the fast-rising sensations. Her hands
held his waist, she felt the muscles under the skin and couldn’t
stop her hands from wandering further, to hold on to his buttocks.
The powerful muscles rippled under her fingers and she squeezed
back. In response he moved even closer to her as the kiss continued
to deepen. She could feel his increasing interest against her body
and murmured her delight, pressing her aching body against him.
They twisted together in the shadows of the club, oblivious to
anything around them.

Sian’s arousal was quickly escalating, he
tasted so good, felt so good and it was all turning her on, blood
rushing to throb and swell between her legs. She needed something,
shifting restlessly to straddle one of his thighs. He steadily
pulsed it back against her and the extra pressure took it up
several notches, the sensations boiled up inside her, inner muscles
squeezing tight. Her hips moved and her leg lifted so his bulge was
pressed right against her. It was enough, or too much, she tipped
over the cliff and her whole body shook. Gasping, she tore her
mouth away from his, hiding her face on his shoulder, turned away
from the rest of the club.

‘What’s the matter? You OK?’ he spoke in her
ear.

She could only moan in response as the
tremors died down. She tried to glance up at him to reassure him
but her eyes lost focus as the last of the quakes threw her.

His concerned eyes cleared with sudden
understanding, ‘Did you just…?’

She managed a feeble nod. ‘Look, no hands,’
she joked weakly.

‘Bloody hell,’ he swore, ‘I didn’t know that
was possible from a kiss.’

‘Neither did I,’ she admitted. His bulge was
still pressing into her, but she was becoming too sensitive to
remain that close. She brought her legs back together, drawing away
from him. His arms fell away, brushing lightly against the heavy
undersides of her breasts. She could feel dampness between her legs
threatening to soak through her trousers and tell the world how
aroused he’d made her. ‘I need to…ummm, clean up.’ His eyes heated
and she nearly came again, she still felt so ready and aching for
him and had to stop from rubbing her thighs together, shifting her
hips. ‘I need…’ she restrained the next words.
Him, she needed
him
. Inside her, filling and stretching her. Her head bowed as
visions of what he could do to her flashed through her head and he
had to hold on to her as her legs gave way.

‘Are you feeling OK? Shall we get out of
here?’ suggested Rob.

Sian nodded, her embarrassment total as she
noticed people watching them curiously. With a guiding arm around
her waist, he helped her collect her coat and they left the
club.

He took her to a side street and with a beep,
opened a car door. Sian dazedly got inside, the butterflies in her
stomach taking over again.

He started the car, ‘I’ve only had one beer
so I’m OK to drive. Where do you live? I’ll take you home.’

‘Ranwell,’ Sian named the nearby suburb and
watched as his strong hands operated the vehicle, competently
handling the machine. The thought of those same hands on her body
sent shivers through her. She had heard jokes about the female
equivalent of a hard-on, a “wide-on”, and thought that was what she
must have between her legs, throbbing, engorged heat and gushing
wetness. Her thighs shifted restlessly together and apart as she
attempted to find respite from the insistent arousal. She failed to
restrain a whimper as her hands fidgeted in her lap.

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