Sweet Talk Boxed Set (Ten NEW Contemporary Romances by Bestselling Authors to Benefit Diabetes Research plus BONUS Novel) (44 page)

Her smile shining in the moonlight, she gave him a sharp nod. “Deal.”

CHAPTER FIVE

Trish made her way over to the large soccer field Tony had told her his youth team, the Shark Bytes, was playing. The game had started a half hour ago, but she’d had to work and told him she’d be over after her shift. Parents and siblings filled the bleachers along one side of the field watching the wee munchkins in blue jerseys mixing with the other team’s green ones.

She found an open spot on the bottom riser and settled in. Tony was striding along the sideline, keeping in step with the action of the game. He looked great in his matching blue jersey and black athletic shorts, and she smiled as he cupped his hands around his mouth to yell instructions to his players in what seemed like a futile attempt at directing chickens with their heads cut off.

He hadn’t yet seen her, which was fine with her. She didn’t want to distract him, plus she enjoyed having this time to study him in his element without him knowing. The last few weeks with Tony had been...well, pretty amazing. She’d been worried that adding sex to their longtime friendship would make things awkward or complicated, but it was exactly the opposite.

It felt like a natural progression for their relationship. They’d always cared a great deal for each other and had fun together. It was easy for Trish to be around Tony. He never pressured her to talk about her past or her future like Rhianna and her mom, and he certainly never felt the need to define their current situation or ask if it was going anywhere. With him, she felt relaxed and carefree. So it was no small wonder why she didn’t mind spending the majority of her free time with him.

He’d agreed on keeping things exclusive-casual, even going so far as to pretend she wasn’t crazy when she made beds a no-no. Two people could screw on a couch and even fall asleep with each other afterward and not feel like an invisible line has been crossed. But that same scenario in a bed changed the whole dynamic. And as far as she was concerned, their “dynamic” was fine the way it was. And by
fine
she meant panty-scorching, mind-blowing amazing.

That first time in the truck had demolished all her past assumptions that she somehow was incapable of enjoying sex, much less experience an orgasm. Tony made her burn hotter than she ever thought possible, and he didn’t even need his body to do it. His words alone could likely make her come. The brain was a powerful thing, and the things he said to her—whether sweet and flattering or salacious and filthy—made her just as wet, if not more, as when he touched her.

Therefore, after reviewing all of the evidence presented to this court, Trish’s ex was found guilty of being a pathetic lover in the first degree.
Goodbye and good riddance.

The shrill sound of a whistle blowing brought her out of her relationship musings and back to the present entertainment. Over the course of the next thirty minutes, she laughed at the antics of both teams. It wasn’t exactly a structured game with plays and positions, but rather every player from both teams chasing the ball. It looked like the ball was a powerful magnet and the players were metal shavings that were helpless to be pulled along after it.

During a time out, Tony had glanced over at the bleachers and finally noticed her. She gave him a small finger wave and he returned it with a brilliant smile and wink. A little blonde girl had seen the interaction and immediately announced to the rest of the team in the huddle that “Mr. Tony just winked at that pretty girl,” which instigated a roar of dramatic oohs and giggles and even a few boys singing the “k-i-s-s-i-n-g” song.

Trish felt her cheeks grow hot as dozens of eyes drilled her from the crowd and snickers of laughter drifted on the slight breeze. Tony brought them back under control like a professional cat wrangler and sent them back onto the field. As soon as he made sure the correct amount of players were in the game with the rest of the team safely behind the boundary line, he looked over his shoulder at her and mouthed “sorry.” She smiled and waved it off.

For the rest of the game, she rarely turned her gaze to the action on the field, preferring to study Tony and how he interacted with the kids. He was amazing with them. Clapping and cheering any time one of them made an attempt to kick the ball into the goal or even if they unsuccessfully tried to kick it away from an opposing player. He got the kids who weren’t currently playing excited to cheer for their teammates and changed players often so everyone got fair amounts of play time. And when he crouched down to comfort a boy who’d cried after the ball hit him in the face, her heart squeezed inside her chest. A couple minutes later, the boy nodded at his coach and wiped his tears away before smiling and running back out to play.

When the whistle blew and the Shark Bytes won 2-0, Tony’s team erupted into screams and cheers and bounced around like the grass was made of trampolines. He directed them to line up and slap the other team’s hands, following after them to do the same thing and then shake the hand of the other coach. One of the parents opened up a cooler full of juice boxes and another held out a container of orange wedges. The kids swarmed both and got their post-game snacks. While they were busy with that, Trish approached Tony from behind.

“Congratulations, Coach,” she said.

Turning around, his face lit up and he instantly pulled her into his arms. “Hey there, sexy. I’m glad you came. I thought maybe you’d changed your mind after working all day.”

“Well, I did have visions of a hot bath and foot soak dancing in my head, but I couldn’t pass up the chance to finally see the deadly Shark Bytes in action. I definitely made the right choice, because that was thoroughly entertaining,” she said. “The drama on the field is more intense than an episode of the Kardashians. I loved every minute of it. Two enthusiastic thumbs up.”

He laughed and they looked at the kids running around and shoving the oranges in their mouths so the rinds took the place of their teeth in their big smiles. “Yeah, they’re pretty great. I enjoy teaching, but I love coaching these guys. Hands down my favorite job.”

“They’re lucky to have such an amazing, not to mention incredibly handsome, coach. You’re really good with them, babe.”

Leaning close, he spoke low against her ear. “I know someone else I’d like to be really good with.” Her breath caught in her chest, and he answered with a quiet growl. “Scratch that. I wanna be really bad with her. And I want her to be dirty as hell with me.”

She clutched at his shirt between them and prayed her weak knees didn’t give out as vibrations of desire rolled through her belly. “I’m willing to bet she’d be more than okay with that,” she said on an exhale.

“Oh, I have no doubt,” he said. “Unfortunately, she’ll have to wait a couple hours until after I play in my game.”

“What? That’s not fair. You brought it up, now you have to deliver.”

“Wish I could.” His wicked half-grin showed none of the remorse his words implied. “But the game is in less than thirty minutes across town, so we have to leave as soon as I get these rascals sent off.” Tony played in an adult soccer league. He didn’t make all the practices—because he was coaching the Shark Bytes and sometimes because he was giving her mind-blowing orgasms—but he made them when he could and most of the games.

“You’re a cruel man, Anthony Joseph. If I wasn’t so fond of you--and my orgasms--I’d make you suffer through your game tonight with a massive erection.”

He scoffed. “Like I don’t already walk around half hard whenever you’re with me. But the good news is, the game is at the fields a block from my place, so after I kick Jefferson’s ass, I can have you naked and on my couch in under two minutes flat.”

“Mmm, now you’re speaking my language.”

He chuckled. “I thought I might be. Wait here, then we can go.”

Trish nodded and he gave her a quick kiss before calling his team together for a post-game huddle. After congratulating them on their awesome hustling and team spirit, Tony reminded them of their game the following week and led them in a team cheer. As soon as it was over, the kids scattered in all directions to meet up with their parents waiting for them.

Tony grabbed a mesh bag full of practice soccer balls and made his way back to her. When they reached his car, he tossed the bag in the back seat. The tech class had their final earlier that week, so Trish opened the passenger side door that was almost good as new and sat inside. As soon as she clicked her seatbelt in, he was right there, leaning over to capture her face in his hands and claim her mouth with a wild urgency.

She opened for him on a whimper of answering need and met his lashing tongue with her own. He angled her head and took the kiss deeper. Her hands gripped his muscular forearms in a desperate attempt to ground herself to the man currently stealing her breath and making her forget everything but him.

When he broke their connection to rest his forehead on hers, the only sounds were of their labored breaths and her heart beating rapidly against her ribcage.

“You have no idea how badly I want to touch you and get you off right now,” he rasped.

“I think I have a pretty good idea. I was thinking the same thing about you.”

Releasing a groan of frustration, he nipped at her bottom lip. “As soon as the game ends, you’re mine.”

“You mean when we get back to your place.”

“You’ll be lucky if I wait that long.” Tony reached down and cupped her sex over her jean shorts, aka Daisy Dukes. She hadn’t been able to resist. “I know you didn’t wear these to work, which means you deliberately changed after, knowing I’d be out of my fucking mind as soon as I saw you in them. Am I right?”

Perhaps shedding her city apparel for a more casual look was something she should do permanently. Trish willed herself not to blush as she tried for a look of innocence. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean, Tony. It’s hot out tonight so I opted for shorts just like everyone else.”

“You’re such a bad liar, T.” A wicked grin tugged one corner of his mouth up. “I’ll say it again. As soon as the game ends,
this
,” he said, squeezing his hand possessively, “is mine. You can think about that while you’re watching me play, and know that every time I look over at you, I’m imagining you naked and writhing beneath me.”

“Shit,” she squeaked out.

***

Trish had never thought much about the sport of soccer one way or the other. She knew David Beckam was a soccer player, and she’d gladly watch that man do anything, but she never considered that he might not be the only man to look hot while kicking a spotted ball.

Turned out, she thought a lot of the guys who played in tonight’s game were hot. Not necessarily because of what they looked like, but because of how they moved on the field. Quick, agile, and unbelievable control over the ball using their entire bodies except their hands. Watching how they worked together as a team until one of them took the shot was a thing of beauty.

Not that she’d tell any of
them
that. They’d probably feign heart failure for suggesting what they did was anything less than manly and aggressive. Men were such babies.

Regardless, she’d loved watching the game, despite that it started to sprinkle somewhere around halfway through. The air was warm so it didn’t bother her enough to seek shelter or spring an umbrella like the few people did who stayed to stick it out till the end of the game. Not that she had an umbrella to spring, but she wouldn’t have used it even if she did.

The cool raindrops felt good on her heated skin, plus it masked the signs of her wetness between her legs that had nothing to do with the damn weather. Tony, the sexy devil, made good on his promise to keep her aware of his intentions for her after the game, and those thoughts made her pussy instantly wet long before the first drops fell.

Whenever the action stopped--a timeout, the ball crossing out of bounds, a ref blew his whistle, or a goal was scored--his gaze immediately sought her out on the sidelines, holding her down as effectively as his body stretched over hers, as he stalked across the muddy grass. During one of those moments, he’d actually reached down with one large hand to palm his cock and balls, then he dragged his bottom lip from his teeth as he adjusted himself before joining the rest of his team in the huddle. The whole thing had happened in a couple of seconds, but felt like a scene played in super slo-mo. Trish thought she’d die of embarrassment, but no one seemed to catch his lascivious stunt but her. Probably because she was the only one watching him like a horny hawk. Once she realized that, she breathed a little easier and let herself enjoy the things he made her feel.

Holy shit. She didn’t think it was possible for him to look any hotter than normal--how had she never noticed his sex appeal before?--but right now he was like one big wet dream. Water dripped from the ends of his hair and gathered his dark lashes into spikes around those fiery golden brown eyes. The hollows of his cheeks appeared sharper, the dusting of stubble across his face more prominent. The man was wholly animalistic and the expression on his face when he stared at her promised carnal pleasures hot enough to singe the panties right off her body.

By the time the game ended, the men were covered in mud and completely soaked. They celebrated their win in the same manner as Tony’s five-year olds. Bouncing around, yelling, and jumping on top of each other, until at last they lined up to “good game” the other team.

Trish waited by the bleachers for Tony, antsy and more sexed up than an ex-con in a whorehouse. Okay, that was proof she was on the brink of “crazy” because she had
no
idea where an analogy like that could have come from. On the other hand, it was a damn good analogy for how she felt. Tony could probably blow on her clit and she’d shatter.

Then she saw him reach back between his shoulder blades with one hand and yank his jersey off and all thoughts skidded to a halt. Tan muscles gleaming with sweat shifted and contracted with every move, every breath. Mud streaked across his shins and the cut planes of his calves, whereas his arms, neck, and face sported splatters from it getting kicked up when they ran.