Striker. Michelle Betham

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      ‘I know so.’

      She felt herself burning up, the heat from his body making her head spin. He was so close now she could feel the electricity practically fizzing between them. One glass of wine couldn’t be having that much effect, surely, could it?

      And then, before she had a chance to draw another breath, his hand was in the small of her back, pushing her against him, his mouth covering hers in a hard, fast kiss that took her completely by surprise for some reason. Considering it had obviously been building up to that for the past few seconds. But it didn’t take long for her to lose what few inhibitions she had left, falling against him as the kiss got deeper and harder, the taste of him overwhelming her with feelings she’d kept repressed for so long that even sleeping with Ronnie last night hadn’t managed to quell them.

      It was like the release she’d been waiting for ever since she’d set eyes on him just a couple of days ago. The sexual tension that had been building ever since that initial interview was now being allowed to come to the forefront, cut itself loose, and as Ryan pushed her down onto the sofa, his fingers pushing her dress up over her thighs, hurriedly pulling down her underwear and discarding it like unwanted rubbish, she felt unusually liberated. Maybe she had been uptight for too long. Nobody could accuse her of that now, though, could they?

      Stretching her arms up above her, she closed her eyes as he slid her dress up over her head, removing her bra in one swift movement, his mouth immediately lowering down to cover one of her breasts. It was a strangely warm and comforting feeling, and Amber arched her back, her arms still up above her head, almost pushing herself at him, but hey, she was in this too deep now, wasn’t she? It was a bit late to hit the reverse button. But, oh, it felt so good, so fucking good as his fingers stroked her naked skin, running over her thighs, up to her breasts, every touch sending a million tiny tingles coursing through her entire body.

      And that feeling ended only briefly whilst he discarded his own clothes, and Amber watched as that young, toned, incredibly fit body became visible in front of her, in all its naked glory. No wonder the women fell at his feet. He wasn’t even her usual type – she never had gone for the six-pack and bicep brigade before – but there was something about this man that was making her confused and excited all at the same time. She couldn’t just ignore that, could she? She was only human after all.

      Ryan was trying desperately not to let the hard-on he’d found difficult to hold off from exploding way sooner than he wanted it to, but it was killing him. It was almost painful, so desperate was the need to get inside her. But he didn’t want to come across as some stereotypical fuck-’em-and-run footballer, which he’d been more than guilty of in the past. So why was this any different? Trying to answer that question was enough to keep that ultimate release at bay for just a little while longer as he continued to thaw the ice-queen. And it hadn’t taken long. He wouldn’t call her a pushover – not to her face, anyway – but she hadn’t exactly put up much of a fight. And he wasn’t complaining. Just because she’d been a slightly easier conquest than he’d first anticipated didn’t make this any less enjoyable. So far he was having the ride of his life, enjoying taking his time to explore a body the like of which he hadn’t seen in a long time. He was used to fake tans, false tits, and more make-up than was absolutely necessary, but Amber Sullivan was in a different league. She was curvy in the true sense of the word, with wide hips, a perfect, small waist and the most amazing breasts he’d ever set eyes on. And they were all her own. Her thighs were hard and toned, and she had a body you could actually get hold of, rather than the skin-and-bone bodies of girls who thought that being thin was the be-all and end-all of looking good. It wasn’t. He’d never really liked that look of being able to see a girl’s ribs whilst two ridiculous-sized false ‘footballs’ were stuck to her chest, making her look entirely out-of-proportion. Amber Sullivan was a real woman. Amber Sullivan was sexy and beautiful – and real.

      He ran his fingers gently over her stomach, down to her inner thighs, watching as she slowly opened her legs wider, giving him a perfect view of heaven. Shit! He was sure he was breaking out in a sweat – Ryan Fisher, stressing out over sex with a woman. But no ordinary woman. Not this one.

      He knelt up, sliding his arms around her waist, gently pulling her up so she was sitting astride him, her legs automatically wrapping themselves around him as he gave in to what he’d been wanting to do ever since he’d got there – he was about to show her that Ryan Fisher could be just as talented off the pitch as he was on it.

      Amber held onto him tightly as she finally felt him enter her, pushing herself down onto him as he pushed in deeper. It was a feeling she couldn’t even begin to describe, that warm and beautiful tingle she was so familiar with now intensified tenfold as their bodies became one, moving in almost perfect rhythm together. She’d never meant to take it this far, yet from the second she’d seen him sitting there in the Press Lounge in the Tynebridge Stadium the day of their first meeting, she’d always known something was going to happen between them. She just hadn’t been sure what. But this was fine, this was okay. This was better than okay.

      She held onto him tighter as the rhythm they’d created became faster, harder, building up to a crescendo of a climax that surprised even Ryan, her body shuddering in his arms as he finally felt his own release sweep through every inch of him. Jesus, that felt good! He couldn’t speak, so hard was his breathing, but as he looked at her, into those pale blue eyes of hers, he had realised that, although he’d finally been the one to conquer this ice-queen, the one to make her break her own ‘no footballers’ rule, he didn’t care about that anymore. All thoughts of running back to the lads tomorrow morning at training to give them every tiny detail of how he’d turned her from cold and uptight into hot and horny, all those thoughts had disappeared. He had no intention of doing that now, even though he’d had every intention of doing it before.

      ‘You can’t stay the night,’ Amber said, suddenly feeling as though she’d just sobered up from one hell of a heavy night out.

      It took Ryan a few seconds to get his head together before he realised she was already pulling her clothes back on, running her fingers through that sexy, dark red hair of hers. He’d never been one for those post-sex cuddles that women always seemed to like, yet he couldn’t help but feel disappointed that she was up and off him in what had to be record-quick time. That was usually his trick.

      ‘Yeah. Yeah, okay,’ Ryan said, slightly confused by what was happening now.

      ‘So?’

      He looked at her as he hurriedly pulled on his own clothes, still unable to shake that disappointed feeling. ‘So, what? You… you want me to go now?’

      She nodded, standing by the fireplace, her arms folded, her eyes unable to meet his.

      ‘Jesus…’

      ‘Please, Ryan.’

      He stood up and walked over to her, reaching out to gently touch her cheek, and even though he’d half expected her to flinch away from him, she didn’t. She stayed right where she was, but she still couldn’t look at him.

      ‘You’re something else, Amber. Do you know that?’ Ryan said, stepping away from her and making his way to the door.

      She finally looked at him as he walked out of the living room, closing her eyes as she heard the front door close behind him. But even then, she knew it was too late. Amber Sullivan had let her guard down. Worst case scenario.

       Chapter Six

      Ryan СКАЧАТЬ