The Beautiful Game (Man of the Match Book 1)

by A. Meredith Walters

  “Your game shows are almost as bad as ours,” I said.

  “You haven’t lived until you’ve seen the Crystal Maze.” Lucas took my hand. It was a seemingly innocent gesture. But he didn’t let go. He held on. And I let him. We watched the grainy show until a commercial break.

  “So tell me, why was your evening so bad that you chanced total rejection by coming here?”

  Lucas raised an eyebrow. “As if you’d reject me. We both know better.”

  I snorted and tried pulling my hand away. We were crossing into awkward hand holding territory. My palm was getting clammy and the last thing I wanted was for him to feel how sweaty I was. But I couldn’t help it. I was all frantic heartbeats and belly flips with him so close. I had regressed to a middle schooler around her first crush.

  But Lucas wouldn’t let me go. Instead he laced our fingers together and gave me a squeeze.

  “It was nothing. Just sometimes being me is a ball ache.”

  “It must be all the good looks and money,” I joked.

  Lucas turned to me, the television completely forgotten. “You think I’m good looking, huh?”

  “I refuse to inflate your ego any more than it already is. I think you’ve had enough smoke blown up your ass for one night.”

  His face became serious. “You were right, you know.”

  I swallowed a little thickly. “About what?”

  “I did originally come here for a booty call.”

  My heart slammed against my ribcage. I felt a mixture of irritation and desire.

  “And I told you that’s not going to happen.” I was finding it hard to look at him. As my grandmother would have said, he was too pretty to be looked at.

  Lucas cupped my face in his hand. It was a tender gesture completely at odds with his comment. “I think that’s why I want you so badly. Why I can’t stop thinking about you.”

  He wanted me? He couldn’t stop thinking about me?

  My stomach flipped and tumbled.

  “Why is that?” I whispered. I could barely speak. My head was a mess. My heart was beating so hard I thought I’d pass out. And I was definitely getting clammy hands from my nerves.

  Just great.

  Lucas ran his thumb along my bottom lip. “Because you’re not that kind of girl. You don’t take shit. You speak your mind. And you’re unimpressed by everything I do,” he chuckled.

  “Well, I’m not completely unimpressed,” I admitted.

  Lucas’ lips twitched. “Oh, not completely?”

  “I think you’re a very impressive soccer—sorry football—player.”

  “Really? Well thank you,” Lucas leaned forward and kissed the corner of my mouth. I sucked in a breath. Well then…

  “And you’re television navigation skills are decent.” I was being swallowed alive by the butterflies in my stomach.

  “There is that,” he murmured, kissing the skin beneath my earlobe.

  “But I was raised to be a good girl, Lucas,” I told him firmly. I covered his hands with mine and inched backwards. I needed some breathing room. Otherwise I was in danger of passing out. Or diving tongue first into his mouth.

  “I know you’re a good girl, Morgan. You’re the best girl. The one I’d take home to meet Mum if I was into that sort of thing.”

  He meant it as a compliment but it hurt. Because it showed all too clearly that his head wasn’t in this for a commitment. He wasn’t invested in something serious. He wanted a wam bam thank you ma’am. That was it.

  But I wasn’t looking for anything serious either. So why should it bother me that he was the same?

  Because I was a silly girl who wanted the boy to pine for her.

  So much for feminism.

  The more important question at hand was I willing to be that type of woman for him? The one who could leave emotions to the side and indulge in her desires without thinking beyond the moment? Could I be a woman who thought less about the heart and more with the…uh…vagina?

  “But I hope, just this once, you can be a little bad. What do you think?”

  What did I think?

  I couldn’t think!

  His lips tasted like salt and something sweet. He smelled incredible. And his hands while only touching my face might as well be touching me everywhere.

  I felt the tip of his tongue glide along the curve of my jaw. I never thought someone licking me would turn me on. Because, yuck, it’s saliva, but damn, Lucas worked it.

  “So how about it, Morgan?” he murmured, his breath hot on my skin. “Maybe for tonight we can be different people.”

  “By different you mean you want the type who will give you the goods, no questions asked? Just so we’re clear,” I deadpanned, raising my eyebrows.

  “Not because I want you to. But because you want to.” Lucas grinned. And then he kissed me. Really kissed me. Not on my neck. No spit trail along my collarbone. A soft, lingering kiss that was meant to make my knees weak.

  And it worked.

  Stupid man.

  Stupid, hot man.

  “Wow, how selfless of you,” I muttered.

  His hand curled around the back of my neck, his fingers burrowing in my wet hair. He kissed me again. One kiss. Two kisses. Light and heady.

  “No love, this is as much for me as it is for you,” he assured me. “Selflessness has nothing to do with any of it.”

  “At least you’re being honest,” I mused. “You’re incredibly full of yourself, you know.”

  “You can be full of me too,” he chuckled, his teeth nipping at my ear.

  “That was just awful, Lucas. Seriously,” I groaned. I was turning into jelly. Wobbly, wet jelly. It was ridiculous. I pulled away slightly and looked into his eyes. I needed a read on what he was thinking.

  His blue eyes were unfocused. His breathing labored. I could see his erection straining against the zipper of his jeans. “This is a bad idea,” I said, my voice shaking slightly.

  He grinned. A sexy smile that made my insides twitch and quiver.

  “No it’s not.” He took my hands and wrapped them around his neck. “This is exactly the right idea.” He lifted me up and settled me in his lap, straddling him.

  I couldn’t help but grind against him. Anything to relieve the pressure that was building. And building.

  “Fucking hell, Morgan,” Lucas groaned and it was my turn to grin like crazy.

  “So are we going to—?” I started to say but I didn’t get a chance to finish my question.

  “Just shut up already,” he muttered before grabbing my face and pressing his mouth against mine.

  “Maybe I don’t want to shut up,” I argued as his hand slid up my shirt to cup my breast. I wiggled against him, my legs tightening around his waist. We groaned in tandem.

  “This is going to go really fast if you do things like that,” he warned, squeezing my boob, his thumb circling my nipple.

  “Like what?” I asked, unzipping his jeans and reaching just one finger inside to touch him. My eyes widened in shock. He wasn’t wearing any underwear.

  “You’re a tease,” he growled.

  “I’m not the one going commando here,” I threw back at him.

  And then he was flipping me on to my back, taking my shirt off in one deft movement. It was quite impressive.

  “Your tits are gorgeous,” he exclaimed as he settled himself between my legs.

  “Uh, thanks?” I felt on display, like a goddamned sculpture in an art gallery. It would probably be odd if I tried to cover myself. But the longer he stared down at my breasts, the more self-conscious I became.

  “Can you do something already? This is getting uncomfortable,” I griped.

  Lucas grinned. “Yes ma’am.” And then his lips latched onto my nipple and his hand slithered down my pants.

  I arched my back and gasped. “You can follow directions at least.”

  His fingers were inside me. His tongue was everywhere. Things were moving at lightning speed.

  “I can do
better than follow directions. I’ve always been told I’m quite the self-starter,” Lucas said, kissing a trail from my breasts back up to my mouth.

  “Self starter, huh?” I giggled.

  Lucas bit down on my bottom lip. “Less talking, more getting naked.”

  Clothes were on the floor. We were only sweat and skin. I moaned as his fingers worked me over, orgasm imminent.

  “You need to touch me. Now,” he ordered, his thumb pressing against my clit, his mouth on my breast again.

  “Oh, sorry,” I rasped, wrapping my hand around his cock. I was bad at this. I hadn’t given a hand job in years. Was it like a riding a bike? Would I remember what to do after a few tugs?

  I tried to jerk him off. I moved my hand quickly up and down. I tried to integrate a swirling wrist motion for effect. To make it seem like I knew what I was doing. Maybe a pinch? Did guys like that sort of thing?

  I noticed him wince. Guess not.

  “Am I not doing it right?” I asked, feeling stupid.

  “You’re great, love. It’s just can you slow it down a notch? I’m feeling chub rub starting. And no more pinching.”

  I let go of his penis in mortification. “I’m so sorry.”

  Lucas kissed me. “Stop apologizing. I like you touching me. Don’t think about what you’re doing, just do it. Does that make sense?” He took my hand and wrapped it around him again. Together we started stroking him.

  “Just like that,” he whispered, sucking on my ear lobe. “Perfect. Fucking hell.”

  I lost track of time after that. There was lots of kissing. Lots of touching. Lots of moaning.

  I saw him reach for his wallet. He pulled out a condom.

  Then I felt him between my legs.

  “Hang onto me,” he grunted. I held on as he lifted me up. He sat upright and slowly eased me down onto his cock.

  “Oh my god,” I gasped as he filled me.

  “Jesus Christ,” he groaned.

  Neither of us moved for a moment as we adjusted to the feel of each other.

  I was tight. Almost too tight. I could say it was the enormous size of Lucas’ dick that was the problem, but it was more to do with the fact I hadn’t had sex in a few years. Though his size was a nice bonus.

  “Is this all right?” he asked, his voice cracking.

  “I think so,” I said, moving slightly. He was deep. So deep.

  “You think so?” he sounded as if he were in pain. “You sure know how to chip away at a man’s ego.”

  I glared at him. “It’s been a while for me, okay.”

  Lucas cupped my face, his eyes tender. “That’s more than okay. Take all the time you need. I’m not going anywhere.” He smirked at me and I couldn’t help but chuckle.

  “Do you want to be on the bottom? Would that be better?” he asked.

  “No. I like this.” I slowly lifted myself up, to the very tip of him and then gently lowered my body back down.

  Lucas groaned and I couldn’t help but grin. “Is this okay?” I echoed his words back at him.

  He grabbed my face and gave me a bruising kiss. “It’s better than okay, Morgan. Much, much better.”

  Then he rocked against me. I lifted myself up and then down again. I arched my back. I was getting into the groove now. He grabbed my breasts. And we fucked like sex-starved animals.

  I was Morgan Carter, wanton sex goddess. And Lucas seemed to enjoy everything that I was doing, if his cries were anything to go by.

  I had no idea how long it lasted. It could have been minutes. It could have been hours. But the next thing I knew was that I came. Then he came. I screamed. He yelled.

  We said all sorts of nonsense.

  He told me I was beautiful.

  I told him he was amazing.

  And then it was over.

  I collapsed against him, trying to get my breathing under control. He was still inside me. I could feel him there. How could I not? Remember, his size wasn’t an issue.

  But I needed to pee.

  Shit, this was going to be weird.

  What must he think of me?

  I had just put out.

  Like the hoe I was.

  And just like that the awkwardness set in with a vengeance.

  “Um. I need to move,” I said grimacing.

  “Yeah, sure. Sorry.” Lucas lifted me off his softening cock. It slid out of me with a pop that sounded like suction cup. It was a horrible sound. Wet and too loud and beyond humiliating.

  We glanced at each other, neither of us knowing what to say now that the deed was done.

  “That was great,” I said. I tried to smile. I most likely looked mildly deranged.

  “Yeah, it was,” he agreed. His smile wasn’t a lot better than mine. He picked up his boxers and slid them back on. He ran his hands over his head.

  “So…” he started to say and then stopped.

  “So…” I parroted.

  And then silence.

  I realized I was still completely naked.

  I gathered up my discarded clothing and held them against my very naked body. I wanted to run. To get very far away.

  I had just slept with Lucas. Had some of the best sex of my entire life.

  My throat was raw from all the screaming.

  I was a total slut.

  Lucas watched me scramble around with an unreadable expression. He was probably counting the minutes until he could leave.

  He had gotten what he came here for after all.

  Oh god. I had caved so easily. And all because a cute guy had made sexy eyes at me. I was ridiculous.

  “Give me a second to get cleaned up. You can watch TV. Or help yourself to something in the kitchen. Or if you want to leave, that’s cool too.” I felt sticky. I wanted to wash up. And I still needed to pee.

  I hurried out of the room before Lucas could respond and closed myself in the bathroom.

  I wanted a shower, but figured that would be rude. So instead I finally used the toilet, brushed my teeth and wiped myself with a washcloth. I was sore. I noticed red imprints on my thighs from Lucas’ fingers. I hadn’t realized he was gripping me so hard.

  Probably because I was too busy being a trollop.

  I must have been in the bathroom longer than I thought because suddenly there was a knock on the door.

  “You okay in there?” Lucas asked.

  “Fine. I’m fine. I’ll be right out.”

  I took a deep breath and opened the door.

  And found him waiting beside the door, his car keys in his hand.

  “You’re leaving,” I surmised.

  Well, I had expected him to. The last thing I really wanted was for him to stick around while we made hopeless small talk.

  But I sort of wanted the honor of kicking him out, not have him run for the door at the first possible moment.

  Dick.

  “Yeah, I need to get home. I have an early practice. And it seems like you’re knackered—”

  “You don’t have to make excuses. There are no strings with this. I don’t expect you to cuddle afterwards,” I interrupted him. I sounded angry. I shouldn’t be. I had expected this.

  But still…

  Lucas took a step toward me. “Morgan, I’m not running off because I got what I wanted. It’s not like that.”

  I held my hand up. “It’s been fun. Maybe we’ll do it again sometime.”

  Did that sound needy?

  Oh great, now I was wearing desperation with my sluttiness. It clashed horribly.

  “Or not. It’s cool.” I waved my hand dismissively.

  Lucas opened his mouth as if he were going to say something. But he never did. He stood there for a few more minutes, jingling his keys in his hand.

  Why was he still here?

  “Can I see you again?” he asked finally.

  I smiled, though it was pained. “You don’t need to do that.”

  “Do what?” he asked.

  I didn’t want to get into a huge conversation about what this was
or wasn’t. I just wanted him to go so I could start feeling sorry for myself. Maybe eat a pint of ice cream or two.

  “Never mind. I’ll see you around.” I reached around him and opened the door. “Bye.”

  Lucas stared down at me but I couldn’t meet his eyes. It was all too humiliating.

  “Okay. Bye, Morgan.” He hesitated but finally left.

  I closed the door behind me, leaning against it, pressing the heels of my hands into my eyes.

  I felt horrible.

  Worse than horrible.

  Why couldn’t I be one of those women who happily slept with a man and that was it?

  Why did I have to hate myself for enjoying it?

  Because, boy had I enjoyed it.

  Thinking about Lucas and the way he had worked me over had me tingling.

  But he had left. And I doubted I’d ever see him again.

  Now I felt like crap all over again.

  I let out a sigh and started to lock the door when I was startled by a knock.

  I swear to God, if it was Thad, I’d lose my shit all over him.

  “It’s late—” I started to say as I opened the door.

  Only it wasn’t Thad, my creepy neighbor. It was Lucas.

  My stomach flipped over and I frowned. “Did you forget something?”

  Lucas wore a strange expression. He seemed conflicted.

  “Yeah, this isn’t going to work for me,” he said, pushing his way inside.

  “What isn’t going to work for you?”

  He pulled me towards him and kissed me roughly.

  “Leaving.”

  Lucas

  Morgan’s bed was tiny.

  It was one of those small doubles that could never fit two people comfortably. Plus Morgan was a bed hog. She took all the blankets and left me with half a pillow.

  And she snored. Though I’d never tell her that.

  It was kind of cute.

  I take it back. It wasn’t cute. But I’d get over it because she was lovely to look at while she slept.

  Though watching a woman while she slept could probably be construed as creepy.

  I stretched my arms carefully over my head, trying not to disturb Morgan.

  I was exhausted. I hadn’t slept more than two hours after we had finally finished shagging each other’s brains out.

  Because there had been a lot of shagging.