Scored (25 page)

Lewis’ face softened a fraction but probably not enough for anyone else to notice.

“What I mean is,” I said, finally remembering to turn my iPhone recorder on and hold it up. “Is it anything fans should worry about for the semis?”

“No, I just got winded. Nothing permanent. Fans can rest assured.”

“You,” said Fellows, pointing at Phil. “Next.”

“Yes, if you come up against Germany in the semis, how are you going to handle their offensive? They seem to be preferring to keep hold of the ball rather than make headway with strikes. Their possession has been in the seventy percent margin each match.”

Lewis nodded slowly and shifted his gaze from me to Phil. “Well pointed out. Their tactics do seem to be domination rather than achievement. But with only four goals so far they should be wondering how long that strategy is going to work for them. We don’t sit about hoping to get the ball, we’re all about taking control and getting the results.”

Lewis moved his attention to a reporter at the front who posed a question about the goal cameras.

“You okay?” Phil asked.

“Yes, why?”

“Usually you ask some high brow question about strategy or formation, not
are you okay after your fall?
.”

“I just thought it was something Kick fans would want to know. Their captain takes a nasty head first into the pitch, they need to be reassured that he’s going to be fit to play the next match.”

“Yeah, I suppose so.” He laughed and squeezed my shoulder. “You’re priceless, you know that?”

 I glanced at Lewis.

He was staring at me again with that Neanderthal look on his face.

Three questions later and the players and Fellows trooped out.

“You want to grab something to eat?” Phil asked. “With me, Ted and James. They do great lamb pittas at a restaurant two blocks from here.”

“Sounds great.”

Phil smiled. “Then I’ll drive us home.”

“Home, you mean the hotel?”

He shrugged. “I suppose so. It’s starting to feel like a long time since I’ve been to  my real home.”

“I know what you mean.” Trouble was, for me home was no longer my little flat in the suburbs of London. Home was now in the arms of a man the whole country was watching. A man who had to pull it together and lead the England team to victory.

My phone beeped and I glanced at the screen. Lewis’ picture flashed up. Quickly, I shielded it to make sure Phil couldn’t see. I hit read.

You looked beautiful tonight. Thanks for caring about my fall. X X PS – Phil’s job is to look after you when I’m not there. Nothing else!

I hit reply.

I was very worried. Glad you’re okay. Need a massage? X X PS – Phil is looking after me wonderfully. Nothing else!

A few seconds later it beeped again.

Miss you. Will call in 2 hours. Be wearing that negligee. X X

Two hours later, I was doing exactly as Lewis had asked, sitting on my bed, the lights dimmed, in my negligee. I’d just finished Reg’s match report and hit send when my phone rang.

Lewis.

“Hi,” I said, a contented smile spreading on my face.

“Hey, honey, how are you?”

“I’m fine. Worried about you.” I flicked shut my laptop and settled into the pillows.

“Why?” He sounded surprised.

“You went flying. I thought you’d done yourself some serious damage.”

“It’s all part of the game. It’s not supposed to be a contact sport but still, accidents happen.”

“Everyone seemed really concerned about you, though. Five medics ran across the field.”

“It took a minute for my breath to come back, that’s all.”

“Are you okay now?”

“Yeah, a bit bruised. But that doesn’t matter, we got the result we wanted.”

“Brilliant last goal.”

“Thanks.” He paused. “So are you wearing that sinful little see-through number?”

“Yes.”

“And you’re alone.”

“Of course.”

“Just checking. Phil seems to be permanently glued to your side.”

“Well I can assure you he’s tucked up in his own bed and I’m completely alone. It’s just me and my negligee.”

“I love that scrap of material you call clothing. Fuck, it makes me hard just remembering how it looked shoved up your back when you bent over the chaise. All rumpled and dark against your pale skin.”

“Does that mean you’re hard now, if you’re thinking of it?” The thought that he had an erection just imagining me sitting here in the negligee was such a turn-on.

“Honey, whenever I think about you I get stiff. Even if it’s just picturing you eating spaghetti.”

I laughed. “I seem to remember you did something about that hard-on. It’s a good job the table in the Presidential Suite was sturdy.”

“Yeah, it was also over a hundred years old. With hindsight we probably should have had a little more respect.”

There was a moment’s silence.

“So what are you wearing?” I asked.

“Nothing.”

Oh, God. Naked Lewis does funny things to my thought process.

“Why? Are you hot?” I asked in a tight voice.

“No.”

I waited for him to elaborate.

“I’m wanking,” he said eventually.

My breath hitched and my stomach clenched. The mental image of him stretched out on his hotel bed, languidly stroking his fabulous cock was so horny. I glanced down. My nipples were tight peaks, straining against the black flimsy material. The hem of the negligee sat just below the junction of my thighs. I rubbed the lacy trim, wishing I could touch his cock. Wishing he could touch me.

“Nicky, are you still there?”

“Yes.”

“Talk to me,” he said. “I like the sound of your voice.

“I wish we were together.”

“Me too, but this is the best we can do for now. Tell me how your negligee looks tonight.”

“See-through.”

“I think that’s one of its redeeming qualities.”

“My nipples are poking at it. They’re hard, they miss the way you tug on them with your teeth and suck them deep into your mouth.”

“I miss them too.”

I was sure I could hear the sound of flesh on flesh, the slight bump of his fist touching his silken pubic hair as he jerked root to tip.

“Touch your tits, Nicky. Pretend I’m there, worshiping you.”

“Okay.” I did as he asked, cupped my left breast through the material and tweaked my nipple.

“How does it feel?”

“Warm, heavy. So sensitive.”

“You have the most beautiful breasts I’ve ever had the pleasure of becoming acquainted with.”

“That’s kind of you to say so.”

“They’re the perfect size for my hand and the way they move when I fuck you. It’s beautiful.” His voice sounded a little strained.

“Is your cock really solid now?” I asked.

Was I actually doing this? Having phone sex with the England captain?

It seemed I was.

“Fuck yeah. Touch your pussy, let’s come together.”

Quickly, I shifted my hips, tugged at my thong and delved between my legs.

“Are you wet?” he asked.

“I’m always wet when I’m thinking of you,” I said huskily, slipping a couple of fingers into my entrance.

“Oh, God,” he groaned. “Are you doing it, touching yourself?”

“Yes, I have two fingers in my pussy, and I’m dripping. Hot and soaked and wishing you were finger-fucking me, getting me ready for your cock.”

“Ah, yeah, but more than two fingers, honey, come on, fill yourself up.” He paused. “In fact, why don’t you get Big Ben.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

I hesitated. “Hang on.”

I scrabbled in my case. Found Big Ben and hurriedly shoved his batteries in.

“You got him?” Lewis asked when I put the phone back to my ear.

“Yes.”

“I never thought I’d be jealous of an inanimate object, but right now I would give up the cup to be your vibrator.”

I giggled. “Don’t be silly.”

“I’m being deadly serious.” His voice quieted. “Push him in, tell me how it feels.”

Parting my legs, I let my knees flop open and touched the head of the vibrator to my entrance. “Cold, he’s cold, not like you, your cock is always so hot when you push into me.”

“Fuck, yeah, keep going. Keep talking.”

“Ah, ah, yes, he’s wide, he stretches me. But I’m thinking of you, Lewis. Your steely dick filling me up. Oh, yes, I wish it was you here, doing this to me.”

“Me too.” He was breathing heavily down the line. “Fuck, me too.”

“Oh, yes, that’s it. He’s in deep.” I paused to pant through the full sensation. “Tell me about your cock, Lewis. How hard are you? Are you still wanking?”

“Hell yeah, and I’m so damn hard you wouldn’t believe. Rock hard. You’d love it right now, me ramming into you. Fucking you into oblivion.”

I pulled Big Ben almost out, then shunted back in. Closed my eyes and pretended it was Lewis. “Yes, I would. Where though, over the chaise?”

“No, we’re in the shower again. I have you against the tiles. Your legs are around my waist and you’re trapped between my cock and the wall.”

“That was so good.”

“And you can’t catch your breath I’m fucking you so hard and fast.”

I was struggling to catch my breath now. “Yes.”

“You’re pussy is so tight, squeezing me. That’s what I remember, just before you come, Nicky, your sweet pussy sucks me higher, clamps around my shaft like it will never let go.”

I never wanted to let him go.

“Oh, fuck,” he said, “I’m going to come. Switch Big Ben to full power and come with me.”

“Okay. Yes.”

“Picturing you, remembering how you make me feel when we come together is more than I can take. I’m a mere mortal, after all, being seduced by Aphrodite.”

Damn, who would have ever guessed Lewis Tate could say such sweet things? “Okay,” I said, “Let’s come together.”

“Hurry.” The sound of friction, flesh rubbing against flesh was louder now. His breaths were coarse, the tone of his voice tight.