hairline.
He caught her hand and pressed a kiss to her palm. ‘Not much any more. Why, do you think it spoils my looks?’ He struck a seductive pose, lying on his side.
Sarah gazed at him, enjoying his masculine face and body. ‘Not at all. Besides, you were just too good-looking before – it adds character,’ she said mischievously.
‘Character? You mean I’m a bit of an ugly hound now?’ He nipped at her earlobe and blew softly into her ear. ‘I don’t bite, although I have been known to nibble. That’s why you keep running away from me?’
Sarah took a deep breath, trying to ignore the butterflies between her legs. ‘You didn’t make the best impression, did you? Accusing me of all sorts. And it’s such a cliché; there are so many girls going after the players. I didn’t want to join the queue.’
He pulled her on top of him. ‘You didn’t need to, you have priority boarding.’ He leered playfully. ‘Any time you want to jump me is fine with me. In fact, I think I’ll insist on it.’ One hand on her buttocks, he rubbed himself against her as they both started breathing heavily.
‘Well, if you insist.’ Sarah leant forward and began leisurely exploring his broad chest, the smooth skin with its neat diamond of dark hair. She licked the hollow of his neck, enjoying the salty taste of masculinity, and she felt his interest grow.
They investigated each other’s body unhurriedly, joining slowly and enjoying every touch, every sensation. She spun in a haze of pleasure supplied by Tom’s hands and mouth on her skin; he appeared fascinated with every part of her. They eventually rested in the early hours of the morning and Sarah drifted off to sleep.
She woke to the rustling of clothes, the beeping of a mobile phone, and Tom brushing a kiss on her cheek.
‘I have to go. I’ll see you soon,’ he whispered.
‘At the weekend, yeah,’ mumbled Sarah. ‘Game, Saturday. Good luck.’
Tom was quiet for a moment. ‘OK, I’ll see you at the game.’
Saturday dawned, another clear day. Sarah had, for a change, spent the previous week in the UK, touring around a chain of hotels. Her body had ached for Tom while she was sleeping alone in the anonymous parade of hotel beds. She’d had countless hot dreams where he was ruthlessly seducing her, had awoken reaching out for him a few times, been distracted from her work many more. At random, she would have flashbacks to moments from that night: a kiss; a caress; him moving inside her; her moving on top of him. Her body would heat and yearn for him, and she would have to distract herself to calm down.
Harford Park had another home game that afternoon, the last before a slew of away games all over England. Sarah dithered over her wardrobe choices, this time plumping for well-tailored trousers and a couple of form-fitting crimson tops covered by her thick winter coat. She still had to stop herself from wandering down to the club hours before the game in the hope of seeing Tom, instead leaving it until her usual last-minute arrival. Clare and the rest of the supporters greeted her with their customary vigour and she returned an absent smile before grabbing her pint and turning to see the team run out.
‘So, what happened?’ Clare had noticed that she was miles away and was watching her intently.
‘Huh?’ Her heart dropped as she saw Tom, in a skin-tight red shirt and snug black shorts, run across the pitch, strapping around his knees, a strong, determined look on his face. ‘Is he starting, then? That’s quick; he can’t have been training with them for long.’
Clare looked over to see the focus of Sarah’s attention. ‘Hmm. I think I can guess who you’re talking about and his name begins with a Tom. Look, he’s in the programme.’
Clare thrust the small booklet at her and Sarah glanced down to see a picture of Tom with his statistics and a small article. ‘Thanks, I’ll read it later.’
‘Before or after you update me? I think it
He caught her hand and pressed a kiss to her palm. ‘Not much any more. Why, do you think it spoils my looks?’ He struck a seductive pose, lying on his side.
Sarah gazed at him, enjoying his masculine face and body. ‘Not at all. Besides, you were just too good-looking before – it adds character,’ she said mischievously.
‘Character? You mean I’m a bit of an ugly hound now?’ He nipped at her earlobe and blew softly into her ear. ‘I don’t bite, although I have been known to nibble. That’s why you keep running away from me?’
Sarah took a deep breath, trying to ignore the butterflies between her legs. ‘You didn’t make the best impression, did you? Accusing me of all sorts. And it’s such a cliché; there are so many girls going after the players. I didn’t want to join the queue.’
He pulled her on top of him. ‘You didn’t need to, you have priority boarding.’ He leered playfully. ‘Any time you want to jump me is fine with me. In fact, I think I’ll insist on it.’ One hand on her buttocks, he rubbed himself against her as they both started breathing heavily.
‘Well, if you insist.’ Sarah leant forward and began leisurely exploring his broad chest, the smooth skin with its neat diamond of dark hair. She licked the hollow of his neck, enjoying the salty taste of masculinity, and she felt his interest grow.
They investigated each other’s body unhurriedly, joining slowly and enjoying every touch, every sensation. She spun in a haze of pleasure supplied by Tom’s hands and mouth on her skin; he appeared fascinated with every part of her. They eventually rested in the early hours of the morning and Sarah drifted off to sleep.
She woke to the rustling of clothes, the beeping of a mobile phone, and Tom brushing a kiss on her cheek.
‘I have to go. I’ll see you soon,’ he whispered.
‘At the weekend, yeah,’ mumbled Sarah. ‘Game, Saturday. Good luck.’
Tom was quiet for a moment. ‘OK, I’ll see you at the game.’
Saturday dawned, another clear day. Sarah had, for a change, spent the previous week in the UK, touring around a chain of hotels. Her body had ached for Tom while she was sleeping alone in the anonymous parade of hotel beds. She’d had countless hot dreams where he was ruthlessly seducing her, had awoken reaching out for him a few times, been distracted from her work many more. At random, she would have flashbacks to moments from that night: a kiss; a caress; him moving inside her; her moving on top of him. Her body would heat and yearn for him, and she would have to distract herself to calm down.
Harford Park had another home game that afternoon, the last before a slew of away games all over England. Sarah dithered over her wardrobe choices, this time plumping for well-tailored trousers and a couple of form-fitting crimson tops covered by her thick winter coat. She still had to stop herself from wandering down to the club hours before the game in the hope of seeing Tom, instead leaving it until her usual last-minute arrival. Clare and the rest of the supporters greeted her with their customary vigour and she returned an absent smile before grabbing her pint and turning to see the team run out.
‘So, what happened?’ Clare had noticed that she was miles away and was watching her intently.
‘Huh?’ Her heart dropped as she saw Tom, in a skin-tight red shirt and snug black shorts, run across the pitch, strapping around his knees, a strong, determined look on his face. ‘Is he starting, then? That’s quick; he can’t have been training with them for long.’
Clare looked over to see the focus of Sarah’s attention. ‘Hmm. I think I can guess who you’re talking about and his name begins with a Tom. Look, he’s in the programme.’
Clare thrust the small booklet at her and Sarah glanced down to see a picture of Tom with his statistics and a small article. ‘Thanks, I’ll read it later.’
‘Before or after you update me? I think it
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