Pressing down, I felt Luca’s hot, hard cock pulsating beneath me and it was all it took. I splintered into a million trillion pieces. Throwing my head back, I screamed out, praying to every deity known to man.
I should’ve been embarrassed.
I know I should’ve been.
I was still wearing my pants and I’d just come so hard I couldn’t see straight. When I finally floated back to earth, I flopped against Luca, my lips landing against the pulse point on his neck where it was beating frantically.
When I lifted my sleepy, satisfied eyes to meet Luca’s, his were clouded with lust. Knowing I was responsible for it was incredibly powerful.
Climbing out of Luca’s lap, I sank to my knees. Staring up at him, I winked. “My turn.”
Chapter Twenty-Five – Luca
Sitting in yet another boring hotel room on a Friday night, I realised just how over this I was. We’d flown in this afternoon, preparing for yet another game which we were going into as the underdogs, and that was putting it politely. At this stage, the newspapers were pretty much calling us witches. We’d been playing like crap, and I hated the fact there was a very good chance I was going to go out as a loser. It pissed me off. I’d worked too hard for too long to walk off the field next week, embarrassed.
I just couldn’t put my finger on what was wrong with us. Individually, we were a bunch of seriously talented guys. Together though, we were in worse shape than those ten-year-old kids I’d watched running around fearlessly on the field the other day. Maybe that was our problem. We’d grown fearful instead of fearless. Fearful of the media labelling us as a laughingstock. Fearful our contract wouldn’t be renewed. Fearful we’d let somebody down. Or worse, let each other down. We’d stopped taking risks and maybe, just maybe, right now was the time for risks.
My phone vibrated on the bedside table where it was plugged in.
Mum: Lunch Sunday
It wasn’t exactly an invitation.
Luca: Sorry, Mum, can’t. Got a sponsor thing in Melbourne, not back until Monday
Even with a good excuse, I still felt incredibly guilty. Maybe it was the years and years of missed dinners and birthday parties weighing on my mind.
Mum: Fine. Dinner Tuesday
Luca: Okay
Climbing up off the bed, I stripped and headed for the shower. There was no way I was I was going to get any sleep tonight unless I silenced all the voices in my head reminding me of all the what ifs in my life.
After placing a room service order, I ate quickly and headed to bed. For hours, I laid there tossing and turning, wishing sleep would drag me under, but it didn’t.
It was almost three, and I was sitting, bleary-eyed, leaning against the wall watching some shitty eighties movie when I picked up my phone and text Elise. I hadn’t seen her since yesterday morning when I’d woken up to find her wrapped around me like a vine. She was warm and soft and smelt so good. I hadn’t wanted to let her out of my bed. I was addicted and I was man enough to admit it.
Luca: You should be here
It was whiny and pathetic, and the last thing in the world I expected was a response, but I felt instantly calmer.
Elise: Wish I was too
Elise: Get some sleep, Luca. You’ve got a game tomorrow
Elise: Or today
Elise: Night xoxo
As much as I wanted to write back, I had no idea what to say. Actually, that’s not entirely true. I knew what I wanted to say, but there was no way I was about to say it over text. Not when I didn’t think Elise was ready to hear it anyway. Silencing my phone, I shucked off my boxers and crawled into bed.
I woke up to a banging on my door. Or maybe it was on my head. I had the headache from hell, and I felt like I’d only been asleep for twenty minutes.
“You getting your arse out of bed, Conti?”
I grumbled a reply as I shuffled into the bathroom. Splashing water on my face, I stared at the bags under my eyes, wishing I was ten years younger. I looked like an old man. I guess I was. Shaking off those depressing thoughts, I got dressed and headed downstairs to join my teammates for breakfast before we headed to the stadium.
Determined to remember everything I could about this, I snuck down the tunnel early, still hidden from view but staring out at the empty field. It smelt like hot chips and beer. The noise of the crowd was getting louder as the stands slowly filled up. I was going to miss this. I wouldn’t miss the bland hotel rooms, or the nights spent alone in a strange city, or the crappy room service, but this; the roar of the crowd and the way my adrenaline spiked as I bounced on the balls of my feet before we ran out onto the field to the cheers of awaiting fans, I’d miss that.
