Authors: Holly Hart
Tackle (17 page)
Frank's face went scarlet with rage, and I filled with a mixture of schadenfreude and pride as I saw him appreciate just how comprehensively I’d outmaneuvered him. Suddenly, the crowd roared behind us, and my focus snapped back to the action on the field – rather than the drama off it. Alex was about to provide
exactly
the kind of cherry on top that a victory this sweet demanded.
Once again, Alex had picked up the ball forty yards away from the Madrid goal, and once again, the white-clad defenders were filled with panic – especially now that there were only ten Madrid players left on the pitch after their teammate had been sent off. Once again, Alex ran directly at the defense, flicking the ball from side to side as he ran, languidly testing the defender's reflexes.
They were too slow. He flicked it past the center back and turned on the afterburners, beating him for pace in just seconds as his arms pumped desperately by his sides. He reached the slowing ball and knocked another five yards, directly into the path of the panicking goalkeeper.
Two Barcelona players had joined Alex rushing towards the box – Rodrigo, and Alex's old rival, Ramon Garcia.
"No way he passes," Tim muttered at my side. "He’s going all the way. He wants the glory."
It was like time had slowed right down in front of my eyes. I watched Alex run as though time applied differently to him. Rodrigo was to his right, Ramon his left, and the goalkeeper was rushing straight at him. He could take the shot – and knowing Alex, he'd probably score, but it was the kind of moment in which coaches always drilled players to pass – because passing meant a definite goal.
The only problem was that strikers like Alex weren't normally the most
selfless
players – they were always out for their own personal glory.
That was normally the case, anyway…
I watched in slow-mo as Alex noted Rodrigo to his right and Ramon to his left.
"Shit, he's going to do it, isn't he?" Tim hissed.
Alex dummied his body as if to shoot, pulled his foot back and drilled it forward hard. The goalkeeper dived to the ground, just like he was trained to do, because ninety-nine times out of a hundred, that would have saved the shot.
This was that one time.
The second before Alex's foot struck the ball, he killed its speed entirely in a way only the very best players could do and lightly touched the ball, feathering it towards the waiting, grateful – and surprised – Ramon Garcia.
He tapped it into the open net, and the crowd went wild.
"I thought they hated each other…" Tim whispered.
I stood up. I didn't need to see the rest – I knew how this story ended. "I guess people change…"
D
iana
I pressed my ear against the door to the locker room, listening out for any signs of life inside. I was well aware that it would look sketchy as hell if anyone saw me, but then again, I didn't want to walk into a locker room full of half-naked soccer players.
Actually, thinking about it
…
It didn't sound like anyone was inside, so I took a chance and pushed open the door. The room looked like a bomb had hit it – jerseys and cleats and shorts and shin pads were strewn everywhere, and it had an odor of sweat that was either slightly sickening or faintly arousing, depending on whose sweat I was smelling.
I was about to call out and ask if anyone was there when I turned a corner, passed a row of wire cleat lockers to my left, and saw Alex sprawled out on a bench, alone, his shin pads still hanging loosely off his ankles. He had a faint smile on his face, like I caught him in the middle of the happy dream.
I snuck towards him, doing my best to stay completely unseen while stepping over the discarded, muddy jerseys and clods of dirt that littered the floor. I wasn't stealthy enough. My toe clattered quietly against a lone cleat, and I brought myself to a complete halt, standing guiltily in the center of the room with one foot raised off the ground.
"Oh, hey…" Alex said sleepily, opening one eye and looking right at me. "I was hoping you'd come down…"
I swore. "Dammit. I thought I was being so sneaky!"
"Better luck next time." He grinned, beckoning me over. "Jesus, Di, you look hot!"
I looked at him and visibly and exaggeratedly wrinkled my nose. "I didn't know you'd given up showering? You could have said – it would have saved me a trip down here…"
He grinned, and the boyish smile took my breath away, as it did every time. "I don't want to take it off," he said, indicating his muddy kit, "not yet, anyway." He paused for a second, then resumed speaking in a hushed, reverential tone. "I didn't think I'd make it here, not after the injury, anyway…"
I walked over towards him, swaying my hips seductively. "You sure there's nothing I can do to, you know, change your mind? I think you deserve a bit of a celebration after that match…"
Alex sat up and rested his back against the wall, splaying his legs so that his thick, soft cock protruded down one leg of his shorts. He followed the direction of my eyes and chuckled. "You’re insatiable, you know that?"
I pouted. "Hey, that's not fair!"
Alex grinned and beckoned me towards him again. I padded over obediently and paused a couple of inches away from him. "How’s that not fair? I didn't say it was a bad thing!"
"Well," I frowned, "it wasn't my fault that we couldn't have sex for a month. I'm just playing catch up…"
He grabbed my hips and pulled me down until I was sitting on his thick, muscular thighs. I felt his cock slowly stiffening against my legs. He leaned in and rested his head against my shoulder, taking a deep breath of my clean, fragrant scent. It couldn't have smelled any further from his musky, sweaty aroma! "Oh god," he groaned, "trust me – I'm not complaining, but that was five months ago, and we've fucked like rabbits every day since, haven't we? How much catching up can we possibly have left?"
I settled down more comfortably on Alex's thighs, hiking my royal blue pencil skirt up as far as the tight material would allow to free my movement, and encircled his hot, sweaty body with my legs. "You're going to ruin this skirt, you know?" I murmured. "I'm going to have to trash it after doing this."
He chuckled into my ear. "Worth it," he sighed. "I'm glad you are here. Really."
I looked down and kissed him softly on the top of his head. I couldn't believe that this was the same guy I met less than a year before! The Alex I'd met was brash and self-confident – and in that respect, not much had changed. But that Alex hadn’t been anywhere near as soft, loving or caring as this.
Most of all
, that
Alex sure as hell wasn't in tune with his feelings – and certainly not comfortable enough to say a thing like that!
"I love you too, honey," I whispered into his ear. I felt him tense up underneath me.
What the
hell did I just say?
"You mean it?" he said, looking up at me hopefully. I felt like a rabbit caught in the headlights – not that it was the first time that the man underneath me had ever made me feel like that… A couple of seconds passed by – seconds that felt like hours, and a brief flicker of uncertainty crossed Alex's tanned Hispanic face, as if he was terrified I was about to say no.
I couldn't speak – I wanted to shout my answer out, not just say it, but my tongue felt glued to the top of my mouth. I did the only thing that I could.
I leaned forward and kissed Alex Rodriguez hungrily on the mouth. The look of relief on his face was palpable. I broke away from the kiss, but before he could utter even a word of complaint, I gave him what he was looking for. "Hell yeah, I do," I said, doubling down.
The real question was – was he going to say it back?
For a second, it was his turn to stay silent – his turn to have
my
stomach doing backflips. He stood to his feet, holding me gently as I slithered down to stand in front of him, still peering up at him, even in my heels.
Alex leaned down and kissed me gently on the lips. "Diana," he said softly, "I love you more than you know." It was lame, it was corny – it was all of the above and I didn't care, not a jot. Alex was the man I wanted to grow old with, and he'd finally admitted to me that he wanted to do the same!
I pulled my lips away from his. "There's just one thing," I said, plastering a serious expression on my face.
Alex looked up at me anxiously. "What is it?" he said, voice wavering. "Anything I can do?"
"Well, kind of," I said, breaking a smile. "Alex – you stink!"
He pinched a corner of his jersey, pulled it up towards his nose and took a long, deep sniff. "Oh, yeah," he said shamefacedly, "you're right. Sorry…"
"Where's everyone gone?" I said mischievously, the kernel of an idea forming in my head.
"The boys?" he said, cocking his head. "They've been down at the bar for a while. I told them I'd follow. Just needed a little time to myself, you know."
"Well then," I said, lifting the bottom of his muddy, stained soccer jersey to expose his ridged, cut abs. "Looks like I've got you all to myself. How about we take a shower?"
His face lit up. "You mean it? What if someone sees?"
I grinned and started to unbutton my blouse. "You said the guys were at the bar…"
"Yeah," he said lamely, tailing off as he stared at the tanned flesh I was revealing, button by button, "that's true…" His cock was prominent now, visibly stiffening under the loose material of his shorts. "What about the cleaners?"
"Let's give them a show…"
I
f you liked
Tackle
, please consider leaving a review
here
- it’s how independent authors keep finding new readers and I’d be incredibly grateful!
Y
ou might also be
interested in joining
my mailing list
for the chance to become an exclusive ARC (Advance Review Copy) reader, get special discounts, early release notifications
AND
join
Amazon gift card competitions!
END
