Tonight the food would be good and it felt celebratory, the decent run of results putting everyone in a good mood.
Nate was wearing a suit that looked tailored, it was fitted perfectly round his broad shoulders. He was without a tie, his top button undone, and I happened to linger my gaze on him for long enough to make him grin like he’d won an argument.
Then his expression changed as he took in what I was wearing.
It was a loose-fitting dress from the waist down, but above that it skimmed over my breasts, the neckline plunging down to my navel, meaning I was placing a lot of faith in tit tape to spare my blushes.
Nate strode over to me, his hands pushed into his pockets, shaking his head. “You look fucking amazing.”
I smiled, taking the compliment. “You look rather good yourself. Although I would’ve like to have seen the make-up.”
Nate laughed. “My girls would’ve liked me to have carried on wearing it. I’ll send you a picture next time.”
“I’ll look forward to it.”
Jesse walked over to us, wearing what was an eye-catching suit. “Decent canapés. What did you order for the main?”
I shared a smile with Nate. Jesse’s main obsession in life was food. He didn’t realise it, but he started most conversations with something about what he’d eaten, what he was about to eat, or what he really fancied eating.
Neva milled over, managing to not comment on Jesse’s food choices. I knew he was the biggest pain in her ass when it came to work, because he didn’t like any form of restrictions on what he could eat, so she had to be creative to stop him from eating rubbish – or what she deemed rubbish.
My friend always had the best of intentions. She knew how important it was for these players to eat right, to consume enough of the right thing so they played to the best of their abilities, and she was good at her job. But sometimes she could advocate it a bit too hard.
I could see with the smile plastered on her face that she was desperate to tell Jesse what the effect of having all three of the desserts would be when he next played, but she was holding her tongue. I also knew that Jesse was doing this on purpose to wind her up.
“What are you having for dinner, Neva?” Jesse gave her sarcastic smile. “Plain chicken breast? Steamed vegetables?”
She smiled back, making it sweeter than a bag of candy. “The innards of an irritating footballer, with added spice to give them some taste.”
Jesse’s face crinkled with mirth and he started to laugh, a genuine bellow. “Good comeback.”
Neva nodded. “Always.”
A message from Nate told me to head to his room at eleven-fifteen. We’d kept our distance from each other for much of the evening, although I’d felt his gaze on me at various times. By the time I got to his room, managing to slip away from Neva and Genny, who’d started up a long conversation about the lack of reliable men, my nerves were on fire.
This wasn’t in the playbook. I’d broken all sorts of my own rules by sleeping with Nate on my physio table, so to have a second time with him was setting out on a dangerous path.
Yet I was here, knocking lightly on his door, my heart pounding a rhythm that was possibly in the dangerously fast territory.
Nate answered quickly, almost as if he’d been waiting right behind the door. Hanging around waiting to go in risked someone seeing us, as Nate’s room was where most of the other players had been put.
I slipped through the door and immediately found myself caught and in his arms, his mouth on mine and his hands on my waist. It felt urgent and needy, hunger for him greater than anything I’d felt for any other man, even Levi. Definitely more than Levi.
He stepped away when the kiss ended, his eyes feasting over my skin, especially over my breasts. I reached up, gathering my hair that had been loose, and pushing it over my shoulders, the action pushing my chest out, my hard nipples straining against the material.
“Did you wear that dress on purpose to tease me?” His eyes were hooded with lust. I could see his erection pushing against the material of his suit pants.
I nodded. “Pretty much. And it’s nice to wear something that’s not sports related.”
His eyes dropped to my breasts and stayed there. “Amber, I’m sorry, fuck.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry I’m staring at – I wanted to be at least a bit of a gentleman tonight.”
I laughed, knowing that it made my breasts move, Nate’s low groan telling me he’d noticed that too. “You can be anything but a gentleman.” I slipped off one of the straps from my shoulder, the material dropping straight down and exposing one of my breasts. I’d taken the tit tape off in the lift on the way up, deciding that a battle with that when Nate and I were trying to get a freak on, probably wasn’t going to be a turn on.
He started to undo the buttons of his shirt, and it was my turn to stare. Abs, those pecs and defined lats, all of my favourite upper body muscles perfectly honed with just a dusting of hair that grew thicker as it led into his pants. There was a reason it was called a happy trail.
He pushed his jacket and shirt onto the floor, stepping closer to me. “You still good with this?”
“Very.” I slipped the other strap off my shoulder, letting the dress pool on the floor, leaving me in just my underwear, a black G-string.
