Red Card (11 page)

I
started to laugh
. I couldn't help it.

Big, obnoxious belly laughs as Killian stood there, his dick still half hard in his hand.

"Pull your dress down!" He hissed, which only made me giggle harder. I think it was the orgasm. No, I'm sure it was. I was so high off the climax that had just ripped through my body that I couldn't control my reactions right. And his accent, god it only made me needy again, a flood of warmth between my legs making me gasp.

The person was still knocking on the door as Killian tossed a rag at me to clean myself up with. Oh yeah, guess I couldn't exit this room with his come dripping down my thighs.

He was busy tucking himself back in and threading his fingers through the black locks that had dislodged themselves.

Another post-climax shiver wracked my body, and I grinned. God that was amazing. And intense. And dirty.

I'd never had sex with anyone other than Taylor in anywhere but a bed. In any position but missionary. And I'd never come. Sure, I would have settled for a small orgasm, like the ones I gave myself occasionally.

But that? It was like a nuclear missile had hit my body. It was as if an asteroid had blown apart inside of me. I had never, ever felt like this.

I hadn’t meant to have sex with Killian. Hell, when I’d thought about coming here tonight I hadn’t even really wanted to see him. I wanted an explanation from him, I’d wanted to stand up for myself. But his ego was always two steps ahead of me, firing back at my sarcasm and wit even faster than I could dish it out. And then he’d gone and practically fucked that brunette on the dance floor.

It had bruised my ego, but he wasn’t supposed to see that. There I was, I’d tried hard to look unforgettable tonight, to tempt him just a little and put the ice queen act on to get him to take me seriously again. But then he’d gotten so close, his smell and that gorgeous face and dispelled any rational thought from my brain. The only thing that had been chanting on repeat through my mind was “kiss me, kiss me, kiss me.” And he had. And I couldn’t do anything but hang on for the incredible ride.

"We have to go." Killian's voice was urgent as he finally straightened, pulling two 50 Pound bills out of his wallet that I glimpsed in the sliver of light coming through the door frame.

My eyes narrowed. "What the fuck is that for?"

He glanced at my body, finally cracking a grin, those full lips tipping up. "Don't worry, Leah. That one was a freebie. Plus, you had already owed me, remember? The night you pushed me away in Leceister Square. This is for whoever is insistently pounding on that door."

He yanked it open, revealing a scrawny bus boy or bar back. Killian thrust the large bill into the kid's hand and grabbed my other one, pulling me out of the room.

"You didn't hear anything, right?"

The boy nodded, his eyes going saucer wide as he realized who we were. Hopefully he wouldn't spill details to the press, but Killian didn't let us linger long enough for me to make sure.

He dropped my hand as soon as we were out of the hallway, the music and boom of the club invading my system again. I suddenly felt my skin pebble with coldness and emptiness.

"You're okay to get home?"

His abrupt nature steeled me. I hadn't known what to expect after how we just mauled each other in the closet, hadn't even stopped to think about what our relationship would look like after, but I was still hurt by his apathetic tone. Two could play this game, then.

"Oh, no you don't. I came here to handle your media, and so we're going upstairs to do some interviews. Just because you just fucked my brains out in the closet doesn't mean you get out of doing the work you're so clearly trying to avoid."

And with that I strutted out of the hallway, feeling his eyes on my ass the entire way to the first floor of Zoo Bar.

I pointed Killian in the directions of various media who were chomping at the bit for an interview, where he dutifully answered questions and plugged the protein drink brand that was hosting this party.

When one of the reporters asked him how his night was going, his eyes slid over to me, heat licking at those gorgeous blue pupils. "This is one for the record books."

T
he first two
weeks of classes flew by in a blur of syllabus packets, learning curves and running around the Hale campus trying not to be late.

Turns out that the grading system over here is ten times harder than in America, and professors gave way less study materials and help. Another thing I realized was that teachers had apparently gone easy on me since I had been Taylor Mason's girlfriend. Some of the terms being used in the lectures I sat through at Hale flew over my head, and I knew I was in deep shit if I didn't find a study group soon.

January gave way to February, which was passing in a blur. We were so close to Valentine's Day that I'd started seeing decorations in store windows anywhere I went. My heart hurt whenever I caught a glimpse and tried to scurry past. It wasn't like I missed Taylor. Hell, I couldn't even if I wanted to because he wouldn't stop drunk texting me. But I did miss being a duo. For five years, I had been part of a pair, no matter how flawed it was at the end. I had never experienced the kind of loneliness girls post about on Facebook during this holiday.

And it was just as they said. Lonely. Miserable seeing the lovey-dovey displays of affection couples posted about each other. The pictures of beautiful jewelry or stuffed animals that some of the girls back home were receiving. I wanted to curl up with Ben and Jerry, the two boyfriends single girls had always talked about.

But I was getting some of the best sex of my life. Okay, let me rephrase. THE best sex of my life, because any intimate moments I had with Taylor just did not compare to how Killian worked my body.

With my school schedule picking up, his practice, and us simultaneously working on his media strategy together, we barely got a minute alone. Either Jimmy was there, or we were going over interview prep in the car on the way to an appearance, or something.

But god, when he did corner me? It was like our hands and mouths and anatomy were magnets to each other's bodies. He made me so crazy with desire and lust that I was practically coming on his hand the minute he started warming me up.

Things after the night at Zoo Bar had been tense but teasing and playful, each of us dropping little innuendos when we weren't within earshot of anyone else. Killian had ended that game when he'd pulled me into Jimmy's office bathroom while he was out to lunch and fucked me on the sink.

Then there had been the limo ride to a charity ball, where Killian had disappeared under my gown and made me come so hard with his tongue that I couldn't breathe properly as the car pulled up to the entrance of the swanky mansion.

And then two days ago, when I'd rode him on the bench in front of his locker long after the team had vanished after practice.

It was spectacular. And not just the sex, but the mystery of it all. The little game we played, finding new and exciting and PUBLIC places to fuck each other's brains out. I'd never been this girl. I was a rule follower, the good one. I didn't have secret trysts with men eight years older than me who also happened to be my boss.

It was an unspoken agreement that we didn’t talk about the media. I was always nervous about whether we’d be caught, whether we were being careful enough, whether the media would catch a piece of information and run with it. But not enough to stop. It actually added an element of arousal, because the idea of getting caught, or the idea of the kind of affair we were having, turned me on.

A tingle started between my thighs as I sat and watched Killian warm up for the match against Bromfield. Windingham was home, on their own pitch, and apparently it was the place to be on Valentine's Day. Couples were dressed in their red jerseys to support Killian and his teammates, Windingham scarfs resting around their necks.

That was one of the differences between American football and English football. For one, their fans were batshit crazy. Football fans back home were loud, but these people were manic. They lived and died by their team. They sported scarves, face paint, airhorns, you name it.

Soccer (yes, Killian had already threatened to murder me if I used that word) was also a much more athletic sport than American football. These players ran for a straight 45 mins, as opposed to the stop and go and TV timeouts of what I was used to back home. It was exhausting just watching them.

The game started and Windingham went on offense right away, getting in Bromfield's half and staying there, putting pressure on for about 20 minutes before finally scoring. To be honest, I found it all a little boring. Except for when Killian was in control. Then, my heart sped up and leapt into my throat until the inevitable whooping shout resounded when he scored.

Killian and his teammates won the game easily. I walked into the press room hoping for an easy postgame when Killian pulled me aside.

"Leah, I want to introduce you to Olivier Claude, our goalie."

He pointed to a massive figure standing to my left, and I turned, my gaze tipping up to look into the warm hazel eyes of a decidedly European looking man.

"Olivier, nice to meet you. Great game." I recognized him from his hulking stature in the net. But in person he wasn't so foreboding. He was tall, he had at least four inches on Killian's 6'2 frame, but he seemed like a gentle giant. Hazel eyes that were warm and inviting but not sexual, curly brown hair cut close to his scalp. He couldn't be menacing even if he tried, especially not in that horrific orange goalie's shirt.

"Leah, a pleasure. I have heard so much about you." His French accent was pleasant as it hit my ears and he slid a sly smile Killian's way. Did he know we’re um...involved?

I hadn't known Killian to have any friends, not even among his teammates, but he must think highly of Olivier if he was introducing me. Or maybe it was just a business thing. Yeah, had to be a professional thing.

The players were quickly ushered to the podiums where they gave a recap of their win, and then we were back in the car, racing for Central London.

"Will you just drop me at my apartment?" I watched London fly by as us the car zoomed over streets. It was so beautiful at night. I'd been able to explore only a couple of other areas after my tourism trip with Killian, but I was still dying to dive into the uncharted hidden gems.

"Actually...I thought maybe you'd like to come over." Killian's accent was low, his eyes unmoving from the window on his side.

It was Valentine's Day. And he wanted me to come over. He had never invited me back to his house again...not for anything more than business or strategy planning. Did I want to go? Yes, of course. But, what did this mean? I liked being with him, I did. I'd started to crack his brutish exterior, and I liked the man he was. But it hadn't even been a year since I ended things with Taylor, and I'd been with him for a huge chunk of my life.

"Yes or no, Leah? Don't make this into some big, girlish to do. I like spending time with you, believe it or not. And we'll be alone. I have a bed."

He'd interrupted my thoughts, going right to the root of the problem. I liked how he knew that I was internally panicking. And I appreciated his candor, so different from the boys I'd dealt with. He was a man, and swung his influence around accordingly.

"Yes. I'd like that." My heart flipped over in my chest as I thought about going back to his place.

My hands kept fidgeting as we entered the elevator in his beautiful lobby, my stomach dropping as the elevator rose. Killian must have felt my energy shift, because he advanced on me, not harshly but in a gentle way like a large wave landing delicately on the sand.

"Stop thinking." He whispered, darting his tongue out to lick my earlobe. My body melted, but my brain did turn off.

"How is it you know exactly what to do when it comes to my body?" I sighed as the doors opened to his floor, Killian still cornering me with his hands on my hips.

"You should hear the noises you make. A little sigh when I lick the right spot. A low growl when I nibble on your pressure points. A throaty gasp the first time my fingers spread open that pretty pussy. And my favorite? The wail you let loose as you begin to convulse and fully give over to your orgasm."

My body was one big live wire when he finished descriptions. If he touched me I think I would go up in flames or combust or implode. Or all three at once.

He slipped one finger under the hem of my shirt, stroking the hot flesh of my hip and I groaned. Killian chuckled, taking my hand and bypassing everything in the apartment, taking me straight for where I knew led to the bedroom.

I tried not to think about what had happened here last time. We still had yet to talk about those articles and my past. I knew Killian had given me the benefit of the doubt in his mind, why else would we be doing what we've been doing for the past few weeks? But we also had delved deeper into the subject. I didn't want to rehash it, and I knew he was avoiding it altogether. We'd hurt each other, no matter if this was just a hook up or not. We had actually become friendly, working as professionals publicly and if we decided to bring up Kit Chaser-gate, it might get ugly again.

Turning my mind back to the gorgeous Adonis in front of me, I palmed him through his post-game suit pants.

"Christ, Leah..." He trailed off, dropping his hands from my body as I worked his belt and zipper. I hadn't done this yet, and it was Valentine's Day, everyone deserved a treat.

Killian unbuttoned his shirt with shaky fingers, frantically pulling at the material. I chuckled as I sank to my knees on the carpet in front of his bed. I relished in the power I had over him, feeling in control in this rare moment.

Killian's shirt flew behind him, his abs in full view at my eye level. The eight pack he sported felt like it had been carved out of the wall in a diamond mine. He was sporting a nasty bruise on the right side of his ribs from where one of the Bromfield players had cleated him. I don't know why it turned me on, but it did, thinking about how rugged and rough he looked.