Kick Back

by K J

  Bianca blinked slowly. “Do you know who’s writing those stories?”

  Cam grunted. “No idea. There’s no byline. Obviously someone choosing anonymity, which is a bit odd. But whatever.” She shook her head, then looked at Bianca again. “I’ve told you all of what’s been going on, haven’t I?” She didn’t give time for Bianca to respond. “There’s the promos with the white balls, and tight tops, and there’s the lack of equipment for training. Then there were the sudden cold showers, missing flood lights, sprinklers issues, combined with the grounds staff not knowing when the training times were on. It’s not just South Melbourne. Other teams in the league have been having weird, sort of sexist, stuff happen as well, like second-rate playing fields, rookie umpires.” She flipped her hands again. “There’s just so much. And I’m getting extra info every time I interview someone. They’re opening up, but I think there’s even more, something they’re holding back.” Cam shoved her hands, fingers splayed, into her hair. “I have this theory, Bianca.” Her hands shot sideways, spraying curls haphazardly. Bianca nodded, eyebrows raised in encouragement. “Okay. It’s a bit out there, but what if all the dodgy stuff that’s been happening is connected?”

  Bianca shrugged. “Could be. But—”

  “Why?” Cam grinned, speaking the word at the same time. “Exactly. Because that’s stupid, right? That would mean it’s being done on purpose.” She flipped her hands over, palms up. “And who would do that? Who would, for example, make sure the sprinklers were still all over the field? That’s sabotage.” They contemplated the idea for a moment, Cam staring into the void a metre in front of her feet, and Bianca gazing at the square inserts in the ceiling. Then Cam looked up and considered Bianca for a second, who lowered her gaze to deliver a blank stare in return. “Soph messaged me the other day with the name of a woman.”

  Bianca’s lips twitched. “Is she helping you out with your love life?”

  “No, smartarse. It was the name of a woman she met in the carpark after the game. This woman was with Lawrence Parker from the executive team, and Dominic, Sophia’s manager. Soph said the woman just seemed off, and that made her curious about what the woman’s association was with the team. Anyway, does the name Helena Trenning mean anything to you?” Cam shrugged. “I’ve dug a bit and I found a LinkedIn account for someone with her name at Schimmager Pharmaceuticals. Then I trawled their website and there’s only a couple of mentions of her in relation to product and development.” She lifted her eyebrows at Bianca, who’d become very still.

  “I might have heard it before.” She fiddled casually at the laces on the boot hanging over her knee. “How about I dig around and see what I can find?” Cam frowned.

  “I can dig around just as much as you can!”

  Bianca chuckled humourlessly. “You’ll need new clothes if you go digging around where I think I’m going.” Cam widened her eyes in disbelief.

  “Who are you?”

  Bianca lifted one side of her mouth in a half-smile. “Nobody at all, Cam.” She held Cam’s gaze for another second, then laughed, her teeth flashing, which completely altered the way her face looked.

  Cam blinked.

  “That.” She pointed at Bianca. “Why am I only seeing this now?” Bianca shrugged. Cam nodded decisively. “Right. My twenty-ninth birthday party is in two weeks. In honour of you sharing an entirely new range of gestures and facial expressions recently, you are officially invited.” Bianca gaped, and Cam pointed at her. “See? Another new expression.” Bianca’s mouth shut with a snap and she narrowed her eyes at Cam, who laughed. “Oh, I’ve seen that one before.” She grinned. “So, you’ll come?”

  Bianca turned her mouth upside-down, tipped her head from side to side, then delivered a one-shoulder shrug. “Okay. I’m always up for a bit of ethnographic study.” A genuinely perplexed expression flittered across her face. “Thanks.”

  ****

  If Cam was completely honest, she found Sophia’s intensity enormously attractive. Yes, the whole athletic, blonde, blue-eyed package was yummy. Mmhmm. But the intense focus with the soft vulnerability had her hooked and was pulling her in rather quickly. Which is why you’re standing at the bottom of her external staircase on a weeknight, clutching a cardboard box full of cupcakes. Cam ran her brain through another audition. So I hear you’re trying out for the role of common sense? What’s a good idea you’ve had recently? Oh, turning up unannounced at a woman’s house with cupcakes. A professional athlete? The one you basically made orgasm next to a tree? And has categorically stated that she doesn’t do relationships and yet you do? But she’s hot? Right. So, thanks for coming. Next! Cam closed her eyes, held them shut for a minute, then, with a mental boot in the backside, she made her way up the stairs.

  Juggling the box, Cam knocked on the door and hoped that Sophia would answer it fairly quickly because her lungs had decided to kidnap her oxygen. Her luck held, as the door opened and Sophia, looking ridiculously casual with her hair loose about her face, her body clad in dark jeans and a forest-green fitted cashmere pullover, blinked at Cam.

  “I made too many cupcakes,” Cam blurted. “And I didn’t have anywhere to store all of them, so I figured the only thing to do was to store them in other people. You.”

  A sexy smile quirked up one side of Sophia’s lips, and she leant against the doorframe. The amber liquid in the tumbler in her hand swirled about, and she raised the glass to her lips, maintaining eye contact with Cam while she took a sip. Oh Jesus.

  “Um…can I come in?”

  Sophia’s smile changed into an outright grin, and she angled sideways to make space. “Absolutely. Anyone bringing food to my home is automatically welcome.” Cam stepped inside, and as she heard Sophia close the door behind them, took in the lounge room. It wasn’t large, but everything about it—the dark floorboards, the leather and wood furniture, the eclectic artwork, the abstract-patterned floor rug—begged her to curl up and purr contentedly. Sophia deposited the glass on the coffee table and walked over to Cam.

  “How about I take the cupcakes and you make yourself comfortable? Jacket, boots, whatever.” She lifted an eyebrow, and retreated to the kitchen, cardboard box firmly in hand. Cam smiled at this version of Sophia; all relaxed, smooth and sexy, in comparison to the brash, flirty, keep-people-at-arm’s-length version, or the anxiety-riddled version from the hiking adventure. Home turf advantage. After depositing her jacket on the coat rack and her boots by the door, Cam wandered into the space, and leaned on the back of the couch. An image of a junior football player was frozen on the TV screen, and the glass and a bottle of whiskey stood on the coffee table, the remote control tossed beside them. Cam stared at the TV, suddenly recognising the child. She turned to Sophia in the kitchen.

  “That’s you.”

  Sophia walked around the bench and motioned for Cam to sit on the couch.

  “Yeah. I’m ten there.” She looked down at Cam, who’d tucked her feet under her body. “Do you want a drink?” She waved at the whiskey bottle.

  Cam shook her head. “No. I’m fine, thanks.” Sophia tipped her head, twisted the lid onto the bottle, picked her up her glass, and resumed her place in the armchair.

  “What’s playing?” Cam sent the question out into the comfortable silence. Sophia smiled softly.

  “It’s a VHS tape I had copied onto a DVD. Dad would record all my matches.” Cam stiffened, and Sophia caught the movement. “Oh God, no. It wasn’t a video for improvement, like.…” She trailed off, wrinkling her forehead in worry, so Cam flipped her fingers.

  “It’s okay.” She gave a quick smile. “Tell me about your dad and your matches.” Sophia reached over and grabbed the remote.

  “It’s best if you watch.” She pressed play and the screen sprang to life. The hiss of poorly recorded audio shot out of the speakers as a little Sophia, with her long legs, and the ball too large for her hands, ran away from the camera towards the goal. She bounced the ball, caught it while dodging an opposition player, then, w
ith a quick kick, delivered the ball to the goal square. The distance the ball travelled may not have been far, but the talent with which the ball was handled was obvious, even at ten years of age. A man’s deep voice boomed over the hubbub of the spectators.

  “That’s it, Soph girl. Great kick now. That’s the way.” The words were delivered lovingly and showcased the joy he received from watching his daughter play.

  Ten-year-old Sophia ran over to the boundary where her father was filming, her face filling the screen, a grin filling her face. “I got the handball away too, Dad!”

  “That you did, sweetie. You go have some more fun now, love.” Then the sound of a full-time siren issued from the TV and the screen went black. Sophia waved the remote, silencing the hiss. Cam slid her gaze to Sophia.

  “That’s adorable and so beautiful, Soph.” She rubbed her own chest, and Sophia nodded.

  “He recorded all of them. That one was when Mum was still alive, but she only came to a few because Ben was doing other things on a Saturday, and she’d go to his activity, sometimes dropping him there and going off to do the shopping or something.” Sophia sipped her drink, and Cam waited. “They both loved that I’d found something that I enjoyed. Particularly dad. Football was his doorway to fitting in as a kid. He was the blonde-haired Swedish kid in the class full of Georgopolis’s and Constatin’s. You know the next question they ask here in Melbourne after your name?” She looked at Cam, and they answered together.

  “Who do you go for?” They grinned at each other. Sophia sipped her drink again.

  “So, he had to pick a team, and that team was South Melbourne. My father sat me down as soon as I could understand and told me that we barracked for South Melbourne and that was it. By the time I was five, I knew the name of every player in the team, the year they debuted, and their heights, because it impressed me so much how tall they were. Even the short ones.” She laughed softly. “I’ve worn so much red and white face paint growing up that it’s a wonder it’s not permanently in my pores.” Cam chuckled, and Sophia regarded her for a moment, then winked, which made Cam feel a bit gooey. “The first time I marked a ball, I believed in the idea that people could fly. You’ve seen players mark, right?” Sophia rolled her eyes. “Sorry. Of course, you have. But, it’s an amazing feeling.”

  Cam shuffled her body a little. “What about Ben? Did he play?” Sophia pushed the glass onto the coffee table.

  “Wasn’t interested, so Dad didn’t force him. But he knew how full-on I was about it, so he devoted his energies to seeing me excel but he made sure I never lost that idea of having fun.” She blinked. “That sense of wonder that comes from playing a sport that you love, and just enjoying each moment in every game. That’s what he encouraged. So, when I start to get a little too intense, and I know I do, I watch these.” Cam watched Sophia blink again, and held her gaze when she looked over. “It helps.” The silence extended. Cam dropped her feet to the floor.

  “Do you want a cupcake? They’re chocolate with vanilla frosting. Not particularly amazing but I reckon they’re tasty.” Cam pursed her lips to the side of her mouth, and Sophia’s eyes sparkled.

  “Vanilla can be quite tasty.”

  Cam stared at her, then rolled her eyes. “You’re ridiculous.” She leant on the arm of the couch and stood. “Plates?”

  Sophia scoffed. “Plates? What type of dessert person are you?” Cam sent Sophia a mock glare, grabbed the box of cupcakes, and deposited it on the coffee table, breaking open the cardboard so it became a flat surface. Cam looked up after tucking her body into the corner of the couch again, and froze. Sophia was very carefully, very deliberately licking the icing off the top of her cupcake. Her eyes were half-closed and Cam was positive Sophia gave a soft moan. God. The tight heat of arousal flared, sparked to life, and suddenly she needed a drink. She stood abruptly.

  “I’m just going to grab some water.” Cam could feel Sophia’s eyes on her as she hurried to the kitchen. The scrutiny sent her brain into space, leaving her mouth to carry on without it. “I should have checked if you were busy tonight. You could have had someone here. I mean, a naked woman could have opened the door, right?” Oh, for the love of all that is sacred, please stop talking. “Not that I haven’t seen naked women. Of course I have. Not as many as you, I bet.” What are you saying? Shut up. Cam placed the glass shakily on the bench, took three steps out of the kitchen and stopped near the adjoining wall. “You see women’s naked bodies every Saturday.” She delivered a quick laugh. Sophia studied her for a moment, then slowly stood, and slid her hands into her pockets.

  “You’re right.” Sophia’s voice had lowered, and her gaze pinned Cam to the wall. “I see women’s naked bodies all the time. It doesn’t mean that I want those women just because they’re naked. There has to be that tug in my stomach.” Sophia stepped forward and Cam was strongly reminded of the movements of a large cat. “There has to be that dip, low in my pelvis. That catch in my breath that tells me that I’m attracted to her and I want to have her.” Sophia withdrew her hands and, as if she had all the time in the world and knew perfectly well Cam wasn’t moving a muscle, sauntered the remaining steps to reach Cam’s space. The look in Sophia’s eyes was predatory and Cam was overcome with an incredible desire to become prey.

  “O-oh?” Cam whispered. Sophia placed her palm flat against the wall beside Cam’s head, shifting her body closer, all the while holding eye contact. Then she reached up with her other hand and gently removed Cam’s glasses, depositing them on the bench, then laid that hand on the wall as well, capturing Cam in a seductive Sophia cage.

  “Do you feel that tug, Cam? That dip?” Sophia rolled her pelvis, making soft contact with Cam, who couldn’t help the shudder that rippled through her body. Sophia smiled crookedly. “Does your breath catch?” She leaned forward and paused, her lips barely touching Cam’s. “Mine does.”

  Cam slowly raised her arms, twisting her hands in the soft blonde hair at the back of Sophia’s neck.

  “So does mine,” she breathed, then with a quick lift of her chin, she pushed her lips to Sophia’s. There was no need for gentle requests. Their lips parted, tongues touched, and rolled, and twisted, and those dips and tugs in her stomach engulfed her entire body. Sophia tasted like whiskey, sugar and sex, and she wanted to drink forever. Mutual groans shimmered across the wall as they used its strong surface to push and pull against each other, and their kissing grew more frantic. Sophia’s hands dropped to Cam’s chest, skirting the outside of her breasts, then thumbing her nipples through the T-shirt and bra. Cam’s head clunked softly against the wall as her clit gave a jolt. Sophia took that as an invitation because she ran a string of kisses along the vertical column of Cam’s neck, alternating between dragging her tongue, then her teeth, across the skin.

  “Oh God, Soph.” Cam’s hands flowed down the front of Sophia’s sweater, circled around her waist, then dipped under the cashmere, travelling softly up Sophia’s skin, where she discovered a lack of bra strap. She moaned, then, with a subtle twist of her pelvis, dislodged Sophia, grabbed her wrists, and flipped them so that she pinned Sophia to the wall. She adjusted her hips so that she was wedged in between Sophia’s legs, and attacked her mouth, sliding her tongue alongside Sophia’s, all the while holding Sophia’s hands against the wall. The restraint was only a token, yet from Sophia’s panting and the soft undulations of her hips, Cam knew that the idea appealed. She left Sophia’s mouth and slid her lips to her neck, thrusting her pelvis to reach higher as Sophia rolled her head. Her quiet murmurs grew louder.

  “Yes. Oh, so good, Cam.” Then Sophia wrenched her hands away, fisted them into Cam’s hair, deepened their kiss, and spun their bodies, pressing Cam against the wall with her lips as Sophia’s hands left her hair to creep under Cam’s shirt. They gasped at the same time as Sophia cupped Cam’s breasts over her bra, circling the nipples with her thumbs, her nails flicking across the tight buds. Cam keened into Sophia’s mouth, then sent her own hands on a journey, down
to the waistband of Sophia’s jeans, then she snaked her fingers under the front of Sophia’s sweater, her hands sliding up hard muscles encased in incredibly soft skin. Cam’s hands stilled, and her panting turned into soft grunts of pleasure, as Sophia thrust Cam’s bra up and out of the way, to play and tweak with Cam’s nipples, while frantically kissing Cam’s neck.

  “Oh. Oh. God. Yes.” Then, as if taking on a life of their own, Cam’s hands flew to Sophia’s breasts, mimicking the actions Sophia was making with her own. Cam crushed her mouth to Sophia’s, heat coursing through her body, as they kissed and touched and played. Their hips were rolling together, pelvis to pelvis. Her clit throbbed and Cam knew her underwear was absolutely soaked. She wanted Sophia to touch her everywhere. Kiss her everywhere. God, she wanted everything. Then Cam felt the actual moment when her common sense launched an offensive at her libido, smashing it to the ground. Common sense: one. Libido: zero. And even though there would be carnage, she knew it was the right thing to do. “This is just sex,” she murmured.

  “Yes, it is,” breathed Sophia, her mouth drifting to Cam’s jaw, her neck. Cam gently withdrew her hands, and held Sophia’s wrists.

  “No, this.” She could feel her breathing gradually returning to normal. “This is just sex.” Sophia’s eyes were dark, hooded, and Cam watched as desire surrendered to confusion on Sophia’s face. She let go of Sophia’s wrists and brought her hands up to cup Sophia’s cheeks. “I can’t have sex with you, Soph. Not just sex, anyway. I want more.” Sophia dropped her head, then stepped back, and Cam allowed her hands to fall away.

  “I can’t give you more, Cam,” she whispered, and when she looked up, her eyes were shimmering with unshed tears. Cam reached under her own shirt, quickly rearranged her bra, then held Sophia’s strong hands.

  “I…um. I find myself liking you very, very much. It’s taken two and a bit months to discover that, and there’s more that I want to find out. So, yes Soph, you can give more. You just have to want to.”