Bigger Than Beckham

by V. K. Sykes

  She was about to apologize for rushing him when he shifted, leaning her back over his arm. Her breasts thrust up, nipples hard against the light cotton of her shirt. That fact didn’t escape him since his gaze dropped there for a few seconds, hot and intent.

  “Yeah, those are very fucking nice,” he murmured. “I’ll get to them in a minute.”

  Martha had never been much for dirty talk, but Tony certainly had a way with salty words of both the American and British varieties.

  But any quip she might have made in response died when he took her mouth in a demanding kiss. He sure as hell wasn’t in a hurry, letting things go hot and wet as he plundered her mouth with a slow, evocative pressure. She had to clutch at his biceps to keep her balance, even though the muscled arm across her back kept her in place. Good thing, too. Tony kissed like a man who knew his business, wrapping his entire body around her as his mouth consumed hers. Long, slow kisses, with deep glides of his tongue that turned her mind to cotton candy.

  And her body into melted butter. If they didn’t get their clothes off ASAP, she just might have an orgasm simply from kissing him. Well, that and the fact that she was writhing against him like as polecat in heat, eager for the feel of his hard length between her thighs. But another part of her didn’t want the kiss to end. It was so inexpressibly tender despite their spiraling desire. Tony’s hard body surrounded her and yet his hands were gentle as he held her securely. When one hand came up under her chin, tilting her face to find an even deeper, more intimate taste, unexpected tears welled in her eyes. The loneliness she’d been struggling with for so long almost overwhelmed her.

  Squeezing her eyes tightly shut, she forced the vulnerability away, refusing to acknowledge it. She would not, could not be vulnerable to him, at least not emotionally.

  Physically—now that was another matter.

  Finally, when his dominating kiss had her shaking with a combination of frazzled, eager nerves and insane lust, Tony drew back. Martha sucked in a huge breath, trying to get her head to stop spinning.

  “Christ,” he muttered, sounding kind of awestruck. “That was a damn fine first kiss.”

  “I’ll say,” Martha replied in a dazed voice. Hell, it was the best first kiss she’d ever had. But she wanted a lot more where that came from, preferably when they were both naked and he was on top of her. Given how she felt at this moment, a kiss under those circumstances would be cataclysmic.

  And she could hardly wait.

  “Let’s say we get some of these clothes off.” Impatiently, she tugged his jacket from his shoulders.

  He let out a husky laugh, glancing at the wide window that overlooked the field. “No one can see us, right? No wankers with binoculars and long lenses? Because a picture like that would give the sports pages something to gossip about. Not to mention your sponsors.”

  Martha finally wrestled his sports coat from his arms and tossed it in the direction of a chair. “As long as we aren’t right at the windows, we’ll be fine. In fact,” she said, stepping away from him, “why don’t we take this to the couch? That way we’ll be completely safe.”

  As she slowly backed away from him, she pulled her blouse from her waistband and began slipping the buttons free. His eyes flared with heat as he tracked her, but he stood his ground, leaning against the table as he crossed his arms over his chest.

  “Ready to enjoy the show?” she asked in a sultry voice.

  “Baby, you have no idea.”

  She teased him, taking her time, reveling in the heat building between them. She slipped her blouse free, letting it drop from her shoulders. His eyes went black and smoky as he took in what she wore underneath—a pale pink bra, mostly lace with just a few silk straps to hold it together. Martha didn’t have large breasts but she’d always thought they had a nice shape. And the cute little number she wore had a nice way of showcasing what she had—thank you, Victoria’s Secret—a fact made evident by the tight-lipped expression on Tony’s face. He looked like a man pushed to the edge of his control.

  Fun!

  “You like?” she asked.

  He visibly swallowed. “Damn,” was all he managed in his rasping, sensual voice.

  Martha couldn’t help preening a bit as she reached up to take the clip from her loose bun, lifting her breasts high as she let her hair cascade around her shoulders. Tony Branch might think he could control what was happening between them, but she had every intention of proving him wrong.

  When she reached for the zipper on her skirt, ready to tease him with a drawn-out strip tease, Tony finally moved, so fast it was just a blur of motion.

  “Let me do that,” he growled, grasping her by the waist and spinning her around. She gasped as his big, hard body plastered her from head to toe, nudging her over to the wall.

  “Put your hands on the wall, Martha.”

  The dark, erotic tone of his voice sparked a little quiver of trepidation deep inside her as he reasserted control.

  “What are you doing?” Her breathless voice betrayed that she was suddenly unsure of herself.

  He took her hands and placed them on the wall, pressing his mouth gently to the side of her neck at the same time. “I’m helping you get undressed, babe. Just relax and enjoy it. I’ll take care of you.”

  Martha shivered again, but this time from a building anticipation. Yes, this was a bit outside her comfort zone and, yes, she couldn’t help a frisson of worry that Tony might be more than she could handle. But she believed him to be a man of his word—if he said he’d take care of her, then he would.

  Sighing, she let her head fall back to rest on his shoulder. He whispered his approval as his hands slid under her arms to cup her breasts. His callused fingertips squeezed her nipples, gently pulling them into hard, tight points. A moan escaped from her throat as she arched into him.

  “Oh, yeah,” he purred, “those are gorgeous.” He pulled down the cups to expose the soft flesh. “I bet you’d like me to suck on them, wouldn’t you?”

  If she hadn’t been nearly out of her mind with lust, she would have rolled her eyes. “Is that a rhetorical question?” she gasped.

  “Just checking. I want to make sure I satisfy your every need.” He cupped a hand around each breast, squeezing gently.

  “Just keep doing what you’re doing.” She ground back against his pelvis. In this position, his erection rode right between the curves of her bottom, feeling huge and hot and temptingly hard.

  Tony pulled in a hissing breath. “I’ll pay more attention to your pretty tits later. Right now, I want to get you out of this skirt.”

  She blinked, surprised at how turned on she was by his earthy talk and his dominating manner. She’d had a few pretty spectacular lovers in the past, but she couldn’t remember losing control of the situation quite like this. In fact, Martha didn’t like giving up control at all, and when in bed with a man she’d always made sure to hold a little piece of herself back—through humor, if nothing else. When things got too intense, she tended to snap off a joke or take control of the situation by using her skills and looks to reduce her lover to putty in her hands.

  But with Tony…well, she seemed to be losing a handle on things in a big way. And, God help her, she loved every second of it. That should be scaring the crap out of her, and tomorrow it probably would. Right now, though, she’d rather jump off a cliff than have him stop what he was doing to her.

  Deftly, his fingers slid to the side zip of her skirt, flicking open the concealed button and then easing the zipper down. The skirt didn’t have a lot of give, so he took his time sliding it down over her butt. Finally, he helped her step out of it, holding her steady as she balanced first on one foot and then the other.

  “Have I told you how much I like your fuck-me shoes?” he asked.

  Martha let out a startled laugh, glancing over her shoulder. “Those are Jimmy Choo sandals, you cretin. I’ll have you know they cost quite a pretty penny, even on sale.”

  He gave her a lascivious smil
e. “I just like the way they make your legs and ass look. And I must say,” he said, pushing her gently away from him and forcing her to lean into the wall, “you have a truly spectacular ass.”

  Martha went willingly, resting her cheek on the cool, smooth wall as his hands shaped the globes of her bottom. Excitement curled low in her belly as he kneaded and squeezed, growling his appreciation as he played with her. Then he slipped his fingers under the narrow fabric of her thong and traced the line of her cleft, between her thighs, sliding forward to cup her damp nest of curls. She moaned when a fingertip brushed over her clit, and she pressed back to deepen the contact.

  “Fuck, Martha,” he whispered. “You’re so hot and so wet. I can’t wait to get inside you.”

  She gave a little moan. “Well, then, what the heck are you waiting for?”

  “First I want to get a good look at you, and then I want a taste of your sweet pussy,” he said.

  She couldn’t hold back a startled laugh as he spun her back around and she almost tripped over her heels. “Tony, I’m going to keel over in these things,” she said, clutching at him. “Let me take them off.”

  “No way, babe. You look way too hot in them.” He leaned in and nipped her lower lip. “And good enough to eat.”

  Then he straightened, looming over her as he held her steady. She stared up into his handsome face, captured by the wild burn in his dark eyes. His bronzed features were pulled tight and hard with vital emotion, a passion and sensuality that tore through her with hurricane force.

  His hands moved over body, across the flat of her stomach and down to cup her mound with a sure sense of possession. “You are so goddamned beautiful,” he said in a husky voice.

  “You’re not so bad yourself,” she sighed, reaching for him. “But I wish you’d take that damned shirt off.”

  “But then I’d have to take my hands off you.” He dipped below the lace of her thong, flicking a fingertip between her soft inner lips.

  “No fair,” she said in a squeaky voice, rising up on her toes. “I’m practically naked and you have all your clothes on.”

  “I don’t have a problem with that,” he replied, delving his other hand between her thighs, too.

  Glaring at him—not an easy thing to do when one’s mind is melting with fevered lust—she made a quick grab for the hem of his t-shirt and yanked it out of his pants.

  Laughing, he finally let her go and pulled the shirt over his head. Martha took one look at his naked chest and leaned back against the wall, clutching one hand to her chest and letting out a dramatic sigh. She couldn’t help it because Tony had about the best set of pecs and abs she’d ever seen on a man, and she’d seen some damn good ones. She’d known he was in great shape, of course, but in fact he was some kind of freaking god, with broad shoulders, brawny arms, and defined cuts of bronzed muscle rippling down his chest to his stomach. A dusting of dark, masculine hair covered his pecs and narrowed down in that delicious line that, for her, had always pointed to heaven. Martha knew the beauty of the athlete’s body, but Tony exuded a sense of strength and power that blew her away. He was simply the most gorgeous man she had ever seen.

  “You like?” he asked, gently mocking her.

  “You’ll do,” she purred, reaching for him.

  But when she began to trace her fingertips over the cords of muscles on his chest, he caught her by the wrists.

  “Hands off, love. My turn first.”

  “If you insist,” she said in an airy voice, leaning her shoulders against the wall.

  “You do like to play with fire, don’t you,” he said, giving her a hot, narrow-eyed inspection, his gaze lingering on her breasts. He reached over and flicked open the front clasp of her bra, letting them spill free completely.

  “Is there any other way?” she quipped, tossing him a cheeky smile.

  Her pathetic attempt to regain control died a quick death when he went down on his knees before her. As his big hands came to her hips, curling around them, she drew in a shuddering breath. Another spike of excitement caught her low in the belly, and a soft rush of moisture dampened her thighs.

  Carefully, he touched the pink bow on the front of her thong. “So pretty, Martha,” he murmured, skimming his fingers along the top edge of the lacy scrap of fabric. “Everything about you is so bloody pretty.” Then he hooked his fingers around the thong and dragged it down her thighs, exposing her neatly trimmed blonde curls.

  “Gorgeous,” he rasped.

  He spread her lips with his fingers and leaned in, dragging his tongue hard across her clit. Martha groaned as she flung both arms wide against the wall to steady herself. A sharp spasm caught her inner muscles, pulsing deep with a luxurious ache. When she tottered on her heels Tony grasped her hips and held her firmly against the wall.

  Then he settled in to devour her. Delicately, at first, as if he was savoring an exotic delicacy. But as Martha begin to moan, writhing under the delicious play of his mouth on her sex, his fingers bit into her hips, holding her still. Pressing into her, he flicked his tongue directly on her clit, pulling a strangled shriek from her lips.

  She froze and her gaze darted to the door. The suite was built like a bunker, so she had no worries that anyone would hear her, but had she actually remembered to lock the damn door? If anyone walked in on them—

  Tony’s mouth fastened hotly on her sex, sucking gently, and Martha let out a frustrated whimper. Her climax hovered out of reach, her focus split between the spiraling demands of her body and her worry that someone might walk in on them.

  Good going, Martha. This is so the best sex you’ve ever had, yet you’re thinking about whether you locked the freaking door.

  “Don’t worry, you locked it the moment we were through the door,” Tony said in a dry voice. “I kind of wondered about that at the time.”

  “Oh, ah, that’s good,” she stuttered, looking down at him.

  He sat back on his heels, a sardonic smile twisting his lips even as he let his fingers drift up to play between her thighs.

  “How could you tell I was thinking about that?” she asked, feeling silly.

  “Let’s just say I was pretty tapped into your state of mind. Fortunately, I remembered that you did, in fact, lock the door. So there’s no need to interrupt what we’re doing.”

  “Ha. Well, bully for me for having such amazing foresight,” she joked.

  Tony shook his head. “You’re a funny girl, Martha Winston.”

  Then he pushed two fingers into her sheath, and her lame jokes were blasted into oblivion. He leaned in, sucking on her clit while he slowly pumped his fingers, sending her to the edge of orgasm.

  “Oh, God,” she gasped. “I can’t take much more of this!”

  She struggled to open her legs wider to him but her thong, wrapped in a tangle around her thighs, prevented her. Tony pulled his hands from her, grabbed the thong and shredded, dropping the tattered silk and lace to the floor.

  “That’s one way to do it,” she managed, insanely excited by the ridiculously alpha male gesture. She’d spent quite a bit of money on that particular thong and bra set, but it had certainly done the job. She’d never been much for the caveman type of guy, but on Tony Branch it looked very good.

  “I’ll buy you all the thongs as you want,” he murmured.

  Spreading her wide and sliding his fingers deep inside her, he hit a sweet spot that made her gasp with pleasure. As she went up on her toes, his mouth came on her again, sucking on her hard little bud, consuming her with a hunger that made every muscle in her body shake with passion. The sight of his broad, gleaming shoulders between her thighs, her legs spread wide to accommodate him, the hungry expression on his face as he moved his tongue over her in a slick glide, was the most erotic thing she had ever seen. And when he twisted his fingers inside her just a little bit, playing her so deftly she couldn’t even describe exactly what he was doing, he sent her right to the very edge.

  Sobbing, she clutched his head with both hands.
“Tony, do something now, or I’m going to kill you.”

  He growled against her, then pressed his tongue hard on her clit. She exploded immediately, her climax washing over her in waves of beautiful, wracking contractions. Unable to help herself, she let out a half-strangled cry of pleasure.

  A few seconds later, she began to slide toward the floor, her bones dissolving into sated mush. Tony pulled away from her and stood, bringing her back up with him.

  “That was fun,” she gasped as he wrapped his arms around her waist. “At least for me.”

  “Don’t worry,” he said. “Now it’s my turn.” He lifted her off the floor and took two steps to the couch, easing her down to sit.

  With a happy sigh, Martha nestled back into the plump cushions, enjoying the feel of the soft brushed cotton against her naked skin. Her orgasm had been spectacular, enough so that she should be too blown away to even think about doing anything more. But watching Tony pull the rest of the clothes from his gorgeous body was enough to get any girl’s libido charged up again.

  “Wow,” she breathed, sounding like a total fan girl as she watched him step out of his clothes. Gorgeous was an understatement. The lower half of his body was just as yummy as the upper half. His hips were lean, and his powerful, long legs were corded with muscle. Even better was the spectacular erection that sprung proudly before her, just at eye level. That wasn’t a damn thing about the man that didn’t make her mouth water.

  Except for the harshly delineated scars on his knee. Those looked nasty and painful, and her heart clutched at the sight as she remembered how he’d been forced into retirement.

  “Does that hurt,” she asked, pointing at his knee.

  He glanced up from ripping open a condom he’d extracted from his wallet. “What? My knee?” He smiled at her and shook his head. “No, it feels fine. But something else has a powerful ache, I can tell you.”

  As he unrolled the condom over his erection, he gave her a comic book leer. “Think you can help me with that problem?”