Reign: A Romance Anthology

by Nina Levine

  I yank my T-shirt over my head, crawl onto the bed and hover over her. I slide her shorts and panties down her shapely legs and toss them aside. Star brings her knees up high, and I press on the inside of her thighs, so I fit comfortably between her legs. When my tongue darts inside her, she inhales a sharp breath as I start licking and flicking, wasting no time getting business done.

  Damn, she tastes good, and the sound of her little moans goad me on. I press on her clit, rub while my tongue gets to work between her slit. She bucks a little, and I press down on her stomach. “Easy, Star. I don’t want any spillage.” I keep up with the caressing, torturing her sensually until she grabs my hair and pulls my face away from her sex.

  “Okay,” she says in a breathy cry. “I’m done.”

  “Done?” I eye the powder between her beautiful tits. Yank my wallet from my back pocket and find a one-hundred-dollar note and a card of little importance. I toss the wallet on the bed, fix the lines, then roll the note and snort the lines on her chest. Leaning back on my knees, I tilt my chin to the ceiling and close my eyes taking a few breaths while the magic begins.

  My heart beats hard in my chest like a rock thumping on iron prison bars. The fan above our heads sounds like an engine whirring out a thunderous roar.

  Star has a curious expression—her brows are pinched slightly in a frown.

  “What?”

  “I want you,” she says. Her words are seductive and caress me like velvet skimming over my skin. Her eyes tell me what she wants, her legs open wider inviting and coaxing me into heaven. I locate my wallet in the sheets and pull out a condom. I yank the zipper of my jeans open and move them down so the band is around my thighs. A quick tear, and I roll it on with shaky fingers.

  “Don’t move,” I mutter and push inside her.

  Star lets out a little cry, but it’s muffled. “My God,” she gasps. She holds both my shoulders and wiggles beneath me. Her breath is hot and fast on my cheeks. “Right,” she whispers. “I’m all yours.”

  Her words cut through the drug-fuelled fog in my brain.

  All mine? I’ve never wanted ownership of a chick. Never cared for anyone enough to bring them into my fucked-up world. Yet on the first night of meeting Star, she has given me a reprieve of the burden and pain I’ve carried for years in a city where I know and trust no one. This woman gets what I need with no questions asked.

  Before I thrust, I lean down and kiss her on the lips. She tastes like mango and peppermint.

  Our lips linger, and then she slaps my arse. “I said I’m ready.”

  Is she?

  I push into her, and her eyes widen.

  “Fuck, you fill all of me, and it feels so good,” she mumbles.

  Hard and fast, I keep pumping into her, building, only the air is thicker compared to Adelaide, and it’s challenging to breathe. She squeezes around my shaft, groans and flutters her lashes open. I focus on her breasts bouncing with our rhythm.

  Reaching around, I lift one thigh, grab her foot and wrap her leg around me. Pushing up on one elbow, I shift the angle. I’ll never tire of hearing the sweet sound of skin smacking and my name being called, especially from red lips in a shrill cry of pleasure and pain.

  “You’re relentless,” Star says and tilts her head back.

  I have no idea how long we’ve been fucking, only that her foot keeps sliding down my back with the sweat coating my skin. I lift her heel to dig into my hamstring. My balls tighten when fingernails scrape along my back.

  “You’re everything I needed tonight,” I say between breaths.

  “Why is that?” she rasps.

  “Today’s date.” I shake my head. “It’s a day I’d rather forget.”

  I stop, pull out and kneel back to peel the condom off my thick cock, then state, “Finish me.” I stand beside the bed and wait for Star to crawl toward the edge of the bed.

  She wraps her long fingers around my dick as though she’s assessing its girth, then licks the moisture balling on the tip. Star takes me in slowly, her tongue dances along the shaft with a swift action of her lips.

  “Yes, don’t stop.” My hips move in a rhythm to match hers. I glance down, the action of my dick sliding in out of a chick’s mouth is perfection. Eyes round, she takes all of me.

  This girl hasn’t even gagged.

  Another first.

  Star grabbing my balls and gently squeezing, while sliding those full lips along the length of my dick—back and forth, back and forth—is beautifully mesmerising.

  The haze returns, only with the clarity of pleasure ripping through my veins as I come, shuddering into Star’s mouth, a beautiful release of the tension of a fucking anniversary date and the burden I’ve carried since I was a kid. To remain upright, I place both hands on her shoulders, allowing the clarity of the release to fill my mind, even if it’s momentary.

  Star frees my dick and leans her forehead on my gut as though she’s equally wrecked.

  “Good girl,” I whisper.

  Damn-fucking-impressive.

  She flops back onto the bed, breathing heavily like she has sprinted to the finish line. I collapse beside her and roll on my back, my focus on the fan spinning above us in a hypnotic action.

  Sharp pain in the back of my thigh brings me out of the trance. It’s the band of my jeans. Fuck, I didn’t even bother to pull them off.

  “What happened to you?” Sky runs a finger over my chest. “On this date.”

  “You don’t want to hear my sob story.”

  “Try me.” She curls into my side.

  I ramble on some more and only shut up when a bang on the door has me springing to my feet and tugging the denim up my thighs.

  The door opens, and Cade peers in.

  His expression falls like he’s seen a ghost.

  “Jesus.” He runs his hands through his hair. “I’ve called an Uber. We should leave,” he blurts and slams the door behind him.

  “Give me a minute.” I kiss Star on the lips.

  Fly zipped, I pull on my T-shirt despite the sweat making it difficult to roll the material down my torso, and step outside the bedroom to Cade leaning against the wall.

  “You ready?”

  I peer at the door, then back to Cade.

  “Mate, you can’t be messing around with Star. I won’t be the cause of blood before your first game.”

  My hand is tapping out a rhythm on my thigh as I try to unravel the thoughts zinging through my mind at the same speed of my heartbeat. It’s like a bloody rollercoaster, and there’s no point at which I want to jump off. Can’t a guy enjoy the high of drugs and sex while it’s still in his bloodstream?

  Cade looks at my hand and then back at me. “You’ve had enough of whatever it is you took in there. Let’s go. Now.”

  “I should say goodbye,” I tell him.

  “No time. The Uber is here.” He gives me a look like I should be a little scared. I’m not that far gone not to listen to advice, so I follow him out of the house, around the side where there’s barely any lighting, yet I manage not to stumble.

  He’s right.

  There is a car waiting out front, so we jump in.

  “What’s your address,” Cade asks.

  I give him the instructions to East Brisbane.

  We sit in silence, and I’m not sure if Cade’s pissed at me as I don’t get time to ask. It only takes ten minutes to reach my house. I thank the driver and tell Cade I’ll see him around.

  “I hope so,” he says before he pulls the door closed.

  I wander along the path leading to a large wooden door and pull out my phone to call Braxton to let me in.

  He tugs the door open and takes one look at me, then shoves his hands through his curly blond hair and shakes his head. “Where the fuck have you been?”

  3

  The damn alarm scares the shit out of me. I hit the screen and want to throw it against the wall to shut it up. I wander out of the bedroom and meet Brax in the hallway.

  “Chr
ist, that’s something I’ll never unsee,” he mutters and turns away.

  “You’ll be seeing me like this in the change rooms almost daily,” I reply and lean a hand on the doorframe of the bathroom.

  “Yeah. After training.” He focuses on my face. “Not when you’re fucking nearly seven feet and your semi-morning wood is nearly as long.”

  I tap the wall twice and admire my cock. “Yeah, I’m surprised after last night.”

  “Don’t want to know, bro. We’re leaving here in fifteen, and if you’re not ready, you can find your own way to the club.” He points a finger as though he wants to say something else. Instead, he shakes his head and walks away.

  Whatever. I shower and down a banana smoothie—sans dairy—before Brax is yelling for us to head to the garage to his Mercedes truck.

  Rushing off, I head to my room and flip the sheets searching for my wallet.

  It’s got to be here somewhere.

  “C’mon, Dustin. We’re out of here.”

  The roller door of the garage grinds as it rolls upward, and I have only a matter of seconds to get my arse out to the car.

  “I don’t have time for this,” I mutter while grabbing my phone and throwing it into my football bag, then jog through the kitchen to the adjoining door that leads to the garage.

  “Lock that door behind you,” Brax says, leaning out the driver’s window.

  Once done, I slide into the front passenger seat. Rohan and Henry take the back seat. A smart move. They are the two draft picks straight from their private Catholic boys’ school in Melbourne. I arrived a few days after them, and they’ve barely uttered a word around me, something I’m grateful for, because today I’m not in the mood for small talk. We pull up in the special carpark for players, and both Rohan and Henry jump out.

  “Go ahead. We’ll see you in there,” Brax tells them. He opens the back of the truck and slides my bag closer without giving it to me. “As for you, we’re having a chat.”

  “Christ, you’re not my mother.”

  “You’re in my house. And I agreed to teach these two youngsters by example before I agreed for you to stay.”

  The house I was going to rent fell through before I arrived, and Brax has let me stay with him until I find suitable accommodation. It’s not an ideal situation living with three other dudes, so I’m looking at houses next weekend. It seems like everyone wants to move to Brisbane. And I have a specific taste in design and location, preferably close to the club.

  “C’mon, mate. Catholic boys are far from innocent.”

  Brax frowns at me. “You were wrecked. Drunk and it was obvious you’d taken something else. What will you do if ASADA officials rock up today for random drug testing?”

  “I’d be fine,” I growl. “I’m not that stupid.” I’m familiar with what drugs are out of your system quickly and not detected.

  “After last night, that’s debatable.”

  He’s right. Knowledgeable maybe, but it doesn’t excuse my behaviour. I pull my bag from his reach and toss it over my shoulder. “Are we going in?”

  Brax has to look up at me. He’s scowling, and I don’t blame him. As the captain of the club, he has a job to do, and he has no idea how the date fucks me up every year. My phone vibrates in my pocket and although I have no intention of answering it, I pull it out for the distraction.

  Mum lights up the screen, and the emotion I’m trying to smother hits me hard.

  “Do you want to get that?” Brax folds his arms over his wide chest.

  “Nope.” I go to step around him, and he grips my arm. “It was one night, okay. I just need to get through today.”

  The revving of a motorcycle approaches, only it’s deafening, and we both turn to see who the player is riding the machine. The closer it comes, I realise it’s no player. Shapely legs in tiny cut-off denim shorts and a black leather jacket in this weather, has me shaking my head. Brakes squeal in a skid as she pulls in beside us. Long dark hair settles over shoulders and before the helmet is off, I read the inscription of words on the back of her jacket—SILVER HELL MC.

  “Hey,” Star says and smiles.

  God, she is even more beautiful in the daylight.

  “Missing something?” She holds out my wallet. “The security guy didn’t want to let me in. When I showed him your wallet, he changed his mind.”

  “One night, eh?” Brax shakes his head. “See you inside, Dusty. I’m not making excuses if you’re late.” He grabs his bag, and the car beeps when he points his keys over his shoulder as he strides off without me.

  “Thanks.” I open my wallet and check the cards and notes—five hundred bucks and every card—my gut sickens thinking I should cancel my bank accounts.

  “It’s all there,” Star says dryly. “I don’t need your money.”

  “Right.” I assess her. “You could have kept it, and no one would have been the wiser. I could have misplaced it anywhere, even on the ride home. I’m oblivious to where I was last night.”

  “Cade knows.”

  “Yeah, and I know nothing about Cade. Met him at a bar before we arrived at the party.”

  She sticks her hands on her hips. “Because you were trying to forget the anniversary of your dad’s death?”

  “I told you that?” I ask in disbelief.

  “Yeah, like you had training this morning, but you did slur most of it. What about us? Do you remember us?”

  Her beautiful, whisky eyes search mine. Right now, I want to drown in those eyes, lose myself to her like I did last night rather than go into the club and face the damn music.

  “I remember.” The vision of her lying before me with cocaine between her tits before we fucked. “Thank you…” I hold up the wallet and tilt it in an appreciative gesture, “… for everything.”

  “You say it like it’s goodbye.” She grins at me. “I checked your driver’s license. I know where you live, Dustin Williams.”

  “Is that some sort of threat?”

  “Someone has to keep you safe…”

  “Safe from what?”

  Star smiles and pulls her helmet over her head, then climbs on the bike. “You better go in before you screw up your future.”

  “Well, aren’t you wise and full of tips today? Here’s one… you should wear pants on a motorcycle. If you fall—”

  Star laughs loudly interrupting me. “I won’t fall.” She salutes me and revs the motor before roaring out of the carpark.

  Fuck. She knows where I live.

  I turn to look at the door of the clubrooms, realising I’ve also jeopardised Brax and the young recruits if shit goes down.

  Getting a move on, I head into the club, pass the weights and strength training room and the hydrotherapy room, until I reach the conference room where the team has gathered for a meeting. The door is open, and coach and his assistant coaches are standing before the players seated in ascending rows of chairs.

  Coach stops talking to his assistants and nods to me. “Dustin. Wait up.”

  I expect him to make a remark about being late.

  Standing in centre stage ready to address the team, he signals for me to stand beside him. “Okay men…” he says loudly. “This guy needs no introduction, but I want to officially welcome him to the Brisbane Dolphins.”

  Dropping my bag to the floor, I shake his hand again. “Thank you, Coach.” I turn to our audience and scan the faces of the guys I’ll be playing alongside for the next three years. Many of the senior guys I’m familiar with, although the juniors and new recruits are looking at me as though I hold the key to another world of football—one where I’m the key ingredient of premierships and the future of the club’s success. My gaze lands on Brax, and he’s frowning, waiting for me to speak.

  “I’m honoured to be here and to work with every one of you to build our team to a level where we’ll play finals footy and hopefully be premiership contenders.”

  I smile and wait for the applause to stop. Their enthusiasm is encouraging.


  “Coach has a vision, and it might take one year, it might take three, five or ten years to achieve. It’s up to every man in this room to band together as a team, as a club, and put the steps in place to be the best.

  “Our mental attitude is going to a major decider to how far we can go this year. Everyone talks about attitude…” I pause and scan the room, making eye contact with the senior players in the front row. “Think of mindset as a muscle to strengthen, something we work on every day. Like our physical bodies, we need to train our mental muscle so in the crunch, when tested, and our opponents believe they have us measured, we have a bank of stamina and determination we can draw on and push past the threshold that’s holding us back.”

  I glance at the coach, and he nods. “Coach believes in us. We need faith in our coach and ourselves to get the job done. New measurements will be in place to test us every day. Keep your eye on that game at the end of the year and remember to take every step set out for us to reach it. It’s going to be a tough year. It won’t be easy, but the glory will have you forgetting all the pain you endured in the beginning. When your alarm goes off in the dark of morning, consider your competitor… is he out of bed? Is he training as hard as you? Trust me when I say unequivocally… yes. So, we need to push harder, be faster, and stronger to be finals contenders at the end of the year. Coach here…” I point to Coach, “… has the game plan to get us there.”

  While the applause starts and continues, I nod at Coach and grab my bag to find a seat.

  Brax gives me a chin up as I stride past him. Hopefully, he understands I’m here for the right reasons and last night was not part of my football plan. I would never intentionally destroy a career I love. I do what it takes to get through the pain that cripples me on the same day every damn year.

  4

  “I had my doubts you’d get through training.” Brax opens the back of his truck and slides my bag toward me. “And your speech held the boys on the edge of their seat. I hope you realise how they look up to you, hang off your every word. Your actions speak even louder, so I expect you to lead by example.”