Striker (69 page)

‘That’s not what I meant. Just make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid, okay?’

‘I’m his best mate, Debs, not his frigging babysitter.’

She stood up on tiptoe, quickly kissing his cheek. ‘Get him home in one piece, that’s all I’m asking you to do. The last thing he needs is Jim Allen on his back, given the circumstances.’

‘
Gary
! You got those drinks yet, mate?’ Ryan yelled over as a young, blonde girl climbed deftly onto his lap and proceeded to stick her tongue down his throat, silencing him immediately. Ryan responded without missing a beat, circling her waist with one arm while his free hand plunged underneath her tight-fitting top, finding her left breast straightaway and squeezing it to within an inch of its life. ‘Jesus, you are one horny bitch,’ he groaned, feeling his hard-on push against the denim of his ridiculously expensive jeans.
 

‘I need a pee,’ the girl moaned, reluctantly climbing off his knee.

‘Can I watch?’ Ryan grinned, making a move to get up and follow her, until
Gary
put a hand on his shoulder, pushing him back down.

‘Sit down and shut up, you dick,’
Gary
said, handing him another shot of vodka. He was beginning to wonder if Debbie was right. Maybe home was the best place for Ryan to be. He was getting steadily more out-of-control as the night wore on.

‘Who
you
calling a dick?’ Ryan slurred.

‘Jesus. You really need to slow it down, mate. You’re gonna be so fucked up in the morning, and we’ve got training, remember? Plus, Colin said the boss was probably gonna be around, too…’ He stopped talking, well aware that any mention of Jim Allen was like lighting the blue touch-paper at the minute. And now was no exception.

‘Fuck Jim Allen,’ Ryan said, knocking back the shot and slamming the empty glass down next to the others he’d already put away.

‘Yeah, real grown-up that, Ryan.’

Ryan glared at his friend. He was bored of sitting here, talking crap with him and being pawed at by these nameless, but ultimately very pretty women. Although, he’d probably come back to them later. No doubt The Goldman would be getting the pleasure of his company in a little while. Mind you, he could quite as easily take a few of them back home with him, couldn’t he? Now that there was no girlfriend there to nag him. Fuck Amber, too. He didn’t need her. He needed this – he needed fun. And he was having plenty of that right here.

‘I should get you home,’
Gary
sighed, taking Ryan’s arm.

‘Fuck off!’ Ryan protested, shaking
Gary
off and standing up. ‘I don’t need looking after, alright?’

‘Yeah, well, I think you do,’
Gary
said, standing up, too.

‘Fuck off,
Gary
!’

‘Is that the sum total of your vocabulary tonight, Ryan? Because you’re starting to sound like some pissed idiot who’s spoiling for a fight. Is that what you want?’

‘All I want is to be left alone,’ Ryan hissed. ‘Is that alright with you?’

‘Do you know what? It’s fine with me. I’m done here. You go ahead and press that self-destruct button, because that’s where you’re heading, Ryan. This – this isn’t helping. Let me know when you’ve sorted your fucking head out, okay?’

Ryan watched
Gary
walk away, grabbing the chair behind him to steady himself as he felt his knees give way slightly. Shit! He needed another drink.
 

‘Ryan! There you are! Hannah said she’d seen you in here tonight.’

Ryan turned round to see a tall, dark-haired woman standing there. She was wearing a very short, very tight black dress and heels that made her legs look unbelievably long. If he squinted she looked a bit like Penelope Cruz – with a Geordie accent.
 

‘Do you remember me?’ she asked, sitting down and pulling him down next to her, her leg touching his, her hand on his shoulder. ‘Hannah and I were at a party down in
London
a few months ago, for one of your ex-team-mates’ birthdays. There were a lot of us there, I know, but I thought you might remember me because I was the one who danced naked on the table in your VIP area.’

Ryan grinned. Even in his drunken state he’d find it hard to forget that night. One hell of a party then some of the best sex he’d ever experienced. And the blow-job he’d received from this woman sitting beside him wasn’t one he’d forget in a hurry.

‘Yeah. I remember you,’ he smirked, sliding his hand up and under the hem of her dress, and it didn’t have far to go before it found just what it was looking for. ‘Do you do repeat performances?’

Chapter Thirty-One

‘I take it that rule about no sex on a match day doesn’t apply to the manager, then?’ Amber smiled, stretching out in what had to be one of the most comfortable hotel beds she’d ever slept in.
 

Even though today was a home game for Newcastle Red Star, Jim still kept to his usual routine of making the squad stay in a local hotel the night before, just to keep an eye on them – and some, more than others,
needed
keeping an eye on. But he didn’t want to spend a night away from Amber any more than she wanted to be away from him right now, so she’d come with him to the hotel. And they’d spent the night breaking one rule in particular he imposed upon his players, in every possible way they could.

Jim propped himself up on one elbow and smiled at her. ‘I think that rule was blown out of the water last night, baby, don’t you?’

She kissed him slowly, loving the taste of him, the way his lips moved against hers. Loving the way he talked to her, the sound of his voice, the way he said her name, that accent of his so different to anything you heard on the streets of her native North East England. All those years in
Britain
and
Europe
and he’d never lost that accent, that Western American twang that she sometimes found unbelievably sexy.
 

‘I don’t want to get you into any kind of trouble, Jim.’

‘Hey, who’s the boss around here, huh?’ he said, that smile of his sending her stomach somersaulting. ‘Anyway, everyone knows now, don’t they? About you and me.’

Amber turned to face him, running her fingers lightly over his shoulder, down over his toned arm. ‘I hate being the centre of attention. This whole media circus that’s following us around right now…’

‘Says the TV sports reporter.’

‘That’s different,’ she smiled, sliding the covers down over his hip, exposing more of his pretty-much-perfect body, for a man in his late forties. ‘I work on local television. The celebrity status tag doesn’t really count, does it? And anyway, I’ve always tried to keep a low profile. Until now.’

He gently pushed a strand of hair away from her eyes, staring into them as he did so. It reminded Amber of the very first time they’d made love, over two decades ago. The way he’d looked at her then was the same way he was looking at her now. Back then she’d wanted him like she’d never wanted anyone or anything before. She wanted him more than that now.

‘And it’s only going to get worse when they find out we’re getting married. Why do you have to be such a high-profile manager?’ she groaned, rolling over onto her back.

‘Well, if it makes you happier I could seek out a nice little third division club to take charge of. Hmm? Does that sound like a better option?’

She turned her head and smiled at him, sticking her tongue out. ‘You’re funny. And you know what I mean.’ She stared up at the ceiling, flinging one arm up above her head. ‘All my life I’ve tried to avoid relationships with footballers, and especially with the extremely famous ones, but it was all a complete waste of time, wasn’t it?’ She looked at him again. ‘Because I was always destined to
be
with one. To be with
you
. Why did we waste so much time, Jim? All those years…’

He trailed his fingers across her stomach, pushing the covers down so he could see her body in all its beautiful nakedness. ‘We can’t turn the clock back, Amber. But we
can
move things forward.’

She closed her eyes as his fingers slid between her legs, giving her no choice but to open them. Not that she’d intended to put up any kind of a fight. ‘That sounds like a plan to me,’ she groaned, stretching out again as he touched her, played with her, like he’d done so many times before, but now it was different. Now she had him for keeps. No more secrets. Well, apart from their engagement, and their possible move to
Spain
.

She bit down on her lip as she felt him move between her legs, felt his mouth take over where his fingers had left off and she really had to curb the rising feelings inside her – she was so close to just shouting out loud. His tongue was warm and soft against her, darting in and out of places she’d only ever really wanted him to see, taking her to that wonderful heaven she’d only ever really wanted to visit with him. He was driving her crazy!

Gripping the pillows tight she turned her head to one side, biting down harder on her lip, but she couldn’t stop a moan of pure pleasure from escaping as he pushed her legs wider apart, going in harder, giving her no option now but to give in to what he was about to give her – the most incredible orgasm she’d ever experienced at eight 0’clock in the morning. It hit her like a tidal wave, crashing over her in a huge spasm of ecstasy that flooded every inch of her, her skin tingling as though it was on fire. That beautiful pain, that all-consuming, breath-taking feeling of wanting to feel nothing but this man inside her. She should have fought for him twenty years ago. She should never have let him go. He may have walked away from her, but she could have stopped him. If she’d really wanted to. But back then things had been so much more complicated. Were they really any less so now?

She kept her eyes closed as she heard him get off the bed, go into the bathroom. Jim Allen – the man who’d made her fall in love with him. The man who’d taken over her life. The man she was finally going to marry.

She couldn’t help smiling at the thought of becoming Mrs Jim Allen, the relentless round of stomach flips making her feel like that star-struck teenager all over again, that young and slightly naive girl who’d fallen for the American accent and the footballer’s legs and a face so unbelievably handsome it was no wonder he’d been the pin-up of the football world for a long, long time. Even now, with his slightly greying hair and the faint lines around those mesmerising green eyes of his, he was still so incredibly handsome. He was still lusted after by many, and she had no doubt that he’d made the most of all of that in the time he’d spent out of her life, while she’d felt no desire to be in any kind of relationship during those years. Because of him? If she couldn’t have
him
then nobody else would do? She’d always known that was the reason, deep down. It had only been in the past few weeks that she could finally admit it was true.

‘My beautiful, northern-English angel,’ Jim whispered, sliding back into bed beside her, his hand gently stroking the curve of her waist. ‘I love you so much, Amber. And I’m never gonna get tired of telling you that. Ever.’

She smiled again, reaching out to touch his rough chin, hoping, even though it was a match day and Jim Allen always liked to look immaculate on a match day, that he wouldn’t shave. She liked the roughness of his stubble, loved the way it had felt when he’d been down between her legs. ‘I can’t wait to start my life with you,’ she whispered, her skin tingling once again as he pulled her close, skin touching skin, the warmth of his naked body giving her a kind of inner peace she’d never, ever felt before. Was
this
what it was really like to be in love?

‘Then let’s do this sooner rather than later, what do you think? Just you and me, away from everyone else. We get married, and we tell no-one. That way nobody can stop us, nobody can tell us this isn’t right; nobody can disapprove or make us feel guilty for what we’re doing – for what we’ve done.’

‘Get married…’

‘Next week,’ he whispered, his mouth almost touching hers as he spoke. ‘Somewhere quiet, somewhere that will respect our privacy until
we
see fit to let people know we’re finally Mr. and Mrs. Allen.’

Just hearing him say those words – Mr. and Mrs. Allen – sent a shiver of seismic proportions down Amber’s spine, a tingle of excited anticipation she’d never felt before. ‘Would we… would we not be rushing into things, Jim?’

He smiled, and that was all it took to knock those fleeting doubts right off the radar. ‘Rushing into things? Baby, this has been twenty-one years in the making, me and you. We should be planning a wedding anniversary well into double figures by now, not the ceremony itself.’

‘Yeah,’ she smiled back, sliding her fingers between his, his hand clutching hers tightly. ‘You’re right. But – what about my dad?’

‘Maybe one day, when everyone’s used to the idea that we’re together and there’s nothing anyone can do to change that, we can have the whole wedding blessing thing. Y’know, the church, big reception, Freddie walking you up the aisle – but nobody will be able to change the fact that me and you, we’re married. We’ll give them all a day to celebrate with us, but nobody will be able to change what we’ve already done.’