Striker (58 page)

She closed her eyes as she felt him come, felt him fill her up with that incredible warmth that once again sent her head spinning and her heart beating so fast she felt as though it could jump right out of her chest, but it was just a pre-cursor to her own crashing climax. ‘Oh, Jesus,’ she breathed, clinging onto him as that wave of white-hot heat soared through her, shaking her body to its core. She’d never experienced sex like it – not even with Jim – and now she knew it could feel this way she didn’t want to let those feelings go.

‘I could stay inside you forever,’ Ryan whispered, his hand on her cheek as he rested his forehead against hers, their breathing still heavy, their bodies still joined together in that most intimate of ways. ‘You are the best fucking thing that’s ever happened to me, Amber Sullivan.’

Amber smiled, running her fingers lightly over his rough chin. ‘Yeah, well, you better believe it, handsome.’

‘I love you so much; you know that, don’t you?’

Amber nodded, quickly kissing him before returning for a slower, deeper kiss, wanting to taste him again, to feel how soft his lips were against hers, to keep that taste of him with her all night. ‘I know, baby. I know. And I love you, too. I love you like you wouldn’t believe. I feel like some teenager who’s just bagged the best-looking bloke in school.’

He laughed, that deep, sexy laugh of his, looking down at her naked body as he finally withdrew, leaving a place he didn’t really want to vacate just yet. He was happy when he was inside her. Nothing else mattered when he was there, nothing except the two of them. The rest of the world could just fuck off, he didn’t need them, he didn’t need any of it when he was with her, when he was this close to her. Is that what love really felt like? This overwhelming feeling of needing someone so much it actually hurt? A feeling that could creep up on you and take over before you’d even realised it was happening. ‘We start talking about dates tomorrow, for this wedding of ours, you got that, gorgeous?’

She smiled again, taking a couple of seconds to just look at him, this young, handsome man in front of her. This famous footballer, this mixed-up kid who’d walked into her life and turned it on its head in a way she could never have anticipated. ‘Yeah. Okay.’

He took a couple of steps back, quickly pulling himself together. Amber slid down from the counter and wrapped her robe back around her naked body, running her fingers through her hair.
 

‘Amber?’

She looked up at him as he stood there, his hands in his pockets, his face carrying a slightly worried expression. ‘Yeah?’

‘I really will behave tonight. I promise.’

She couldn’t help but smile as she walked over to him, slipping her arms around his waist and kissing him quickly, but still long enough to bank another taste of him that she could keep and pull out later when she needed to remember what this felt like. ‘Baby, I’m your fiancée, not your mother.’
 

‘I just want you to know you can trust me, that’s all.’

‘I know, Ryan. And I do, okay? I trust you.’ She reached up to gently stroke his cheek, standing up on tiptoe to kiss him again, a longer, slower kiss, his hand resting in the small of her back, pushing her against him. ‘I trust you.’

Chapter Twenty-Six

‘Jesus! I swear they come out of fucking nowhere!’
Gary
said, leaning back against the bar as a group of glamorous young women descended on him and the rest of the Red Star players, all bright-white smiles and fake tan. ‘But, hey, what can you do?’ he grinned, sliding his arm around a very pretty brunette with pillar-box-red lipstick and over-made-up eyes.

Ryan watched as Gary did what Gary did best – ignored the fact he was engaged and only months away from being a married man himself to indulge in this age-old, off-pitch game that so many footballers enjoyed. A game Ryan had played himself so many times, it was just that now he was starting to feel a bit bored with it all. Because now he had Amber.

‘Hey, handsome.’
 

Ryan turned to see an undeniably beautiful girl standing beside him, smiling the kind of smile he’d seen on the faces of these girls so frequently over the years. A smile that told him she’d be quite willing to do anything he wanted her to, he just had to say the word.
 

‘Are you gonna buy me a drink, then?’ she asked, edging closer to him, laying a French-manicured hand on his arm, her false eyelashes fluttering in what was most probably an involuntary action.

Ryan stared at her for a second. In the past he wouldn’t have hesitated to do exactly as she’d asked, knowing what would be waiting for him at the end of the night. But things were different now. Things had changed.
He
was different. ‘You do realise this is actually my Stag Night, don’t you?’ he said, wishing she’d remove her hand from his arm. The way she was touching him was making him feel slightly uncomfortable.

‘So?’ she pouted, moving her other hand down to his thigh. ‘I can’t see your fiancée anywhere, can you? And what the eye doesn’t see…’

‘Jesus Christ,’ Ryan sighed, pushing her hand away. But she still made no attempt to move from his side, leaning back against the bar beside him.

‘Jenna said you were usually up for anything,’ she huffed, folding her arms like some petulant child who’d just had her favourite toy taken away from her.

Ryan stared at her in disbelief. ‘Who the fuck is Jenna?’

She nudged her head in the direction of the brunette who was all over
Gary
, giggling like a schoolgirl at something he was whispering in her ear. ‘She said you two had spent a pretty full-on night in The Goldman a few months back. Said you were a right kinky sod, too. The things you two did together…’

Ryan tried to tune her out as he looked at Jenna again, squinting slightly. Shit! Yeah, he remembered her now. She’d been one hell of twisted bitch, he couldn’t deny that.
 

He turned back to the pretty blonde beside him. ‘What’s your name?’

Her face brightened up immediately, her smile widening. ‘Emmie. Short for Emily, but I don’t like Emily. It doesn’t really suit me…’

Ryan held up his hands to stop her from talking, closing his eyes for a second in the hope that, when he opened them, she’d be gone and he’d be left in peace. ‘Look, Emmie – this is my Stag Night, sweetheart, okay? I’m getting married, I’m in love, and I know people are finding that quite heard to believe, given my past, but it’s true. It’s happened, so, whatever your mate Jenna has told you about me, that’s all in the past. You got that?’

Her expression changed again, returning to that of the petulant child. ‘You’re not married yet, y’know.’ She turned to face him, smiling a slow, sexy smile as she began fiddling with the collar of his jacket. ‘You’re still allowed a little bit of fun, surely?’

He pulled her hand off him, pushing her away slightly. ‘No can do, sweetheart. You’d better go find yourself someone else because I ain’t playing anymore.’

‘Spoilsport,’ she huffed, picking her bag up off the bar. ‘I really fancied you, too.’

And a couple of months ago he’d have fancied her back, but things were different now. He watched her flounce off in the direction of the rest of the lads, pushing a hand through his hair and breathing a sigh of relief.

‘What are you
doing
?’
Gary
asked, almost running over to him.

Ryan looked at him, frowning slightly. ‘Huh? What’re you talking about?’

‘Emmie. What are you doing shoving her away like that?’

‘Look, first of all I didn’t shove anyone, okay? And secondly, I’m not up for all that shit anymore, alright?’

‘It’s your Stag Night, Ryan.’

‘Yeah, I’m aware of that, thanks.’

‘Listen, mate, you’re not gonna be like this all night, are you?’

‘Like what?’

‘Boring.’

‘Boring?’ Ryan laughed, pushing a hand through his hair again. ‘I’m being boring, am I?’

‘Just a bit, yeah. I was hoping me, you, Jenna and Emmie could have made a night of it later. They’re both willing…’

‘Yeah, I bet they are.’

‘Oh, come on, Ryan. She hasn’t got that ball and chain attached to your frigging ankle just yet, y’know. Cut yourself a bit of slack, chill out. Enjoy yourself. Come on. I’ll get you a drink. What you having?’

Ryan looked at his best friend, a smile finally finding its way onto his incredibly handsome face. ‘A large whisky. And… look, just… just don’t try to push me onto women I have no intention of fucking later, okay?’

‘The night is still young, mate,’
Gary
winked.

‘
Gary
…’

‘Okay, okay. I’ll leave it. I promise. Come on; let’s get you that drink and see if you can’t loosen up a bit. This new you is fucking freaking me out.’

*

Amber watched as Debbie opened another bottle of champagne, whooping with delight as the cork exploded into the air sending a cascade of liquid streaming from the top of the bottle. This was all for her, this celebration. It was the first of many planned Hen Nights, apparently, as Debbie had told her before they’d all piled into the back of the bright-pink stretch hummer she’d hired to ferry them around town all night. None of this was Amber’s style – all the brashness and the overt glamour. Oh, everyone was really nice, it was just that it wasn’t really her thing. She wasn’t used to hanging out in big groups; she wasn’t even used to having a friend around all the time, if she was honest. Ronnie had always been her best friend, but he’d also always been at arm’s length, almost, for a lot of the time, given his line of work. This being part of a large group of women was all a bit alien to her. But Debbie was doing her best to make Amber feel comfortable, even if the only place she really wanted to be was back home, cuddled up to Ryan.

‘You okay, chick?’ Debbie smiled, sitting down next to Amber, handing her a fresh glass of champagne.

‘I’m fine,’ Amber smiled back, taking a sip of the sparkling liquid.

‘Just missing your man, huh?’

She looked at Debbie, sighing. Then she laughed – she couldn’t help it. ‘Jesus, how lame am I? It’s just been so long, Debbie. So long since I’ve felt this way, y’know? And it’s hard to get used to.’

Debbie squeezed her hand, sitting back against the huge, oversized cushions that decorated the sofa they were sitting on in one of
Newcastle
’s trendiest bars. ‘Exactly
how
long ago has it been since you’ve felt this way, chick?’

‘A long time,’ Amber sighed again, throwing herself back against the cushions, too, taking another sip of champagne. ‘Too bloody long.’

Debbie looked at her out the corner of her eye. ‘Is there a reason for that?’

Amber stared straight ahead, trying to push any thoughts of Jim – no matter how tiny or how vague they might be – to the back of her mind, where they belonged. ‘Let’s just say things didn’t exactly run smoothly in a previous relationship. He was… we… it was complicated. We shouldn’t really have been together and… I fell in love. I thought he had, too, but I was wrong. It didn’t end well. He hurt me and… I guess I put barriers up to prevent me from going there again. Until Ryan walked into my life.’

‘He must have been someone really special…’
 
Debbie sat up slightly, crossing her legs, fixing Amber with an intrigued look, ‘... to make you feel that way.’

‘He was,’ Amber said, staring down into her glass. ‘I loved him so much and…’ She shrugged. ‘And he threw that back in my face.’

‘Was he famous?’

Amber looked up sharply. What could have made her want to ask that?

‘I’m only asking because, well, you’ve been around footballers and sportsmen all your life and I just thought… I assumed…’

‘I was young and stupid, Debbie. Not to mention incredibly naïve.’ She knew she’d already said too much and it was time to steer the subject back round to the present – leave the past well alone. ‘But that’s all behind me now. I’ve got Ryan, haven’t I? And we’ve got a future together. That’s all that matters.’

‘He really loves you, Amber. You’re very lucky.’

Amber looked down into her glass again, unable to prevent the smile from spreading across her face as she remembered the way they’d said goodbye to each other just a few hours ago. She could still feel him inside her, if she closed her eyes and thought about him, all handsome and hard. The taste of him on her lips, the touch of his fingers on her skin. She just wished he was here now, because she missed him like crazy. And she didn’t like these needy feelings that seemed to be taking over, but she couldn’t stop them. She loved him, it was as simple as that. She loved him. And she hadn’t loved anyone as much as this since – since Jim.

‘You alright?’ Debbie asked, gently touching Amber’s arm. ‘You drifted off there for a second, chick.’

‘I’m fine,’ Amber smiled, draining the last of her champagne and standing up, shaking out her hair so it fell in a barrage of beautifully-styled barrel curls over her bare shoulders. ‘I’m just nipping outside for some fresh air and a quick cigarette.’ Suddenly she really needed one. So much for her New Year’s resolution to give up. Again. ‘Can you get me a refill?’