I dart around him and start walking toward the launching point but he quickly catches up and throws and arm over my shoulder. Our tubes are all waiting on the bank of the river and they have all been roped together to form one big floating island. I step on to the first rubber tube and almost lose my balance but Marco is quick to grab my hand.
“Carmelina,” he says my name in a seductive voice as his eyes skim down my body. Shane gets on behind me and yanks my hand away before sitting back on one of the tubes and pulling me down so my back is to his firm chest. The rest of the group climbs on one by one. Marco’s eyes are still on me and he’s ignoring the whiny blond in his lap. Shane leans forward to look at Marco and I notice how his jaw tightens. He presses his lips against my ear and speaks.
“If he keeps looking at you like that I’m going to get into a fight. I told you that bikini would be a problem.”
“He’s not looking at me,” I argue even though I’m pretty sure he is adding, “and his girlfriend is sitting right in his lap!”
“That’s not his girlfriend, babe; it’s just some bimbo from the field. And he’s definitely looking. Something I can help you with Hurtado?” he shouts over to his team mate.
“I’m just wondering how you and the lovely Carmelina met?” Marco asks and I feel Shane stiffen behind me so I decide to jump in to diffuse the situation.
“I work for the Austin Observer and I accompanied a colleague to one of your games. She was interviewing Shane so I met him there,” I explain.
“So you didn’t know him before that?” he asks, looking between us and I shake my head. “Strange. I actually think that was supposed to be my interview that day but I had another commitment. It’s a shame though…” he trails off as his eyes trace the length of my legs up to my chest. “Timing is everything.”
I hear Shane emit a low growl from behind me and I want to nip this thing in the bud before it escalates any further but Marco seems to have other ideas. “How long have you been together?” he asks keeping his eyes on me.
“We’re not together,” I clarify at the same time Shane says, “about a week.” I turn my head in surprise and give him a confused look. How can he be telling Marco we’re together when he’s the one who said no girlfriends?
“I see,” Marco smiles.
“You don’t see anything, Hurtado,” Shane snaps back and I shake my head in disbelief. He’s the one who doesn’t do labels so why is he acting all territorial and trying to mark me like I’m some kind of fire hydrant to be pissed on?
I roll my eyes and unfold myself from his arms so I can crawl on to the neighboring tube where Karen is lounging. The two of us quickly fall into a conversation about her job as an ER nurse as I leave the men to their posturing. The party around us on the river could easily rival the best spring break and the drinks are flowing as the sun beats down. I decline a beer and opt for an ice tea in a plastic cup as our island of tubes rounds the first corner. I belatedly realize that I forgot my sunscreen in the car but before I can even ask to borrow some Shane is swinging his leg over my back so he’s straddling me.
“You’re getting a little red,” he murmurs as he squeezes warm lotion on to my back and rubs it in. I shiver all over as he flips me over and uses his hands to massage the lotion into my stomach and on to the front of my thighs.
“The skin around the breasts is often the most sensitive,” he breathes into my ear while using his thumbs to massage cream into the undersides of my breasts. He squeezes a bit more lotion into his hand and spreads it across the tops of my breasts, then slips his fingers just under the edges of my triangle top.
I know that if he keeps this up I’ll be begging him for it before the ride is over so I scramble on to my knees and plunge over the side of the tube into the refreshingly cold water. I come up sputtering and when I look at the tube I don’t see him on it. I’m looking around for him when something tugs at my feet and pulls me under. I open my eyes underwater only to see him smiling back at me as he holds me against his chest. His hands roam all over my body setting every nerve ending on fire and within seconds I need to come back up for air. I’m gasping for breath when I break the surface and I grab on to the side of the tube to hang on. But the relief is short-lived because just as quickly I hear him surface and feel him as he presses his hard body into mine.
“Think you can get away from me that easily?” he chuckles, slipping a hand down the front of my bikini bottoms. My head snaps back and I look around to see if anyone’s watching. Marco is making out with his date and Karen is talking to Dillon while the three young girls take selfies with a waterproof camera.
“Don’t pretend you’re shy, babe. Not when you’re already so slick and ready for me,” he hums in my ear and I squirm around to try and dislodge his hand. His hips press me into the rubber tube, showing me just how ready he is for me.
“I thought today was about hanging out as friends?” I deliberately shove back against him making him groan.
“Oh, babe, we went way past friends when you let me have you in your shower.”
He inserts two fingers into my wetness and I slam my mouth shut to keep from crying out. “All you need to know right now is that this is mine and as long as this thing between us in happening I’m the only one who can have it,” his voice rumbles from deep within his chest as he flicks a finger against my clit. I gasp and he releases me enough that I manage to wriggle free and climb back into the tube. I’m panting as I sit back down and I figure that I must look like a hot mess of sexual frustration with my flushed cheeks and wild eyes. I lie back on my tube and close my eyes. I try to ignore Shane as he hops back in and drips cold water all over my chest.
“You’re blocking my sun,” I tell him and he laughs but gets out of my way. I eventually crack one eye open to see that he’s given up on me as he opens a beer that someone hands him. With everyone occupied I let myself relax and enjoy the warm sun on my face and the distant sound of laughter and music. I must fall asleep because next thing I know we are back at the starting point and Shane is waking me up. I sit up abruptly and the first thing I notice is that one of my flip flops is gone. Shoot. It must have come off when I dived into the water. I hop off the tube and wade in but I stumble as the sharp rocks poke at my bare foot. I’m holding my arms out to balance myself when all of the sudden I’m airborne. Shane has me in his arms and he’s carrying me back to shore.
“I can’t let you hurt your feet,” he says and his friends are hooting and hollering as Marco shouts at his retreating back.
“Aren’t you going to stick around for a beer, man?” Marco asks and Shane’s response is to flip him the bird.
“Yeah, I guess I wouldn’t either,” Marco adds as Shane climbs up the bank to the shore.
When we reach the rental spot he sets me down long enough to grab my purse and his bag then picks me back up in his arms.
“Shane! I have to get dressed!” I shout at him.
“Why? You’re dry,” he responds with his eyes locked on my bikini top. “For now,” he adds.
When we reach his truck he opens the passenger door with one hand and tosses our stuff inside, then places me gently on the seat. He belts me and his hands linger on my waist a few seconds longer than is necessary, then he leans his whole body into the truck and gives me the softest, sweetest kiss I think I’ve ever had. He seems reluctant to pull away but he eventually does and he goes around front of the car to the driver’s side. He climbs in and I’m asking him the question before even starts the engine.
“What’s happening with us? One minute you treat me like it’s all about sex and the next you’re sweeping me off my feet like some big ole’ Southern gentleman. And what was that back there with Marco when you basically told him we were seeing each other? What’s the deal?”
“The deal is that something is happening between us whatever you want to call it, babe.”
“My name is not babe!” I snap and he turns in his seat to face me.
“No, Carmeli
na Dahl, I know your name. I also know that you are a beautiful and feisty twenty six year old editor’s-assistant-slash-waitress who loves dancing, cooking, white picket fences and beer a whole lot more than you seem to like me. I also know that right now you are being a giant pain in my ass!” he yells and I shut up instantly. He takes a deep breath and runs his hands through his short blond hair before starting up the engine.
“Can’t we just hang out and see where this thing leads?” he asks more gently and I look at him then give him a silent nod.
“Good. Then come and see my practice tomorrow and we will go from there.”
“Why?”
“Because I want you there.”
“Is that the only reason?” I say suspiciously.
“Isn’t that enough of a reason?”
“Fine but if I come tomorrow then you have to promise me you’ll stop sending me gifts and bothering me at work,” I hedge.
“Deal,” he agrees as he reaches across the seat to take my hand in his. “Thanks, babe. You won’t regret this.”
As I survey his near-perfect profile and the confident smile playing on his lips a phrase unwittingly comes to mind. Famous. Last. Words.
Chapter 9
It is late afternoon the next day and the sun is beating down so hard that rivulets of sweat are running down my back. I can feel my shoulders start to burn and I wish I had remembered to slather on sunscreen. At least I had the foresight to wear a sundress because there is absolutely no breeze in the stadium today. When Shane cornered me into watching his practice I didn’t know what to expect but so far it’s just been a lot of running interrupted by the occasional whistle.
Leigh is practically salivating beside me at the sight of all of the bare chests and toned calves. I made the mistake of mentioning the practice in the lunch room and she pestered me all day until I agreed to bring her along.
“I am seriously in chiseled-abs-heaven right now,” she sighs while fanning herself with her hand. “Is that Marco guy single?”
I glance over at the striker who’s standing beside the net and bouncing the ball off his knees. Though I have only seen him up close a handful of times there’s no denying that he’s easy on the eyes with his spiky black hair, tanned olive skin and lean muscular frame. In fact, he’s gorgeous and the permanent smirk he wears on his face tells me that knows it.
“Single? I have no idea but I’m certain that you would eat him alive,” I answer and she laughs.
“Absolutely I would, Caramel.”
The whistle blows and Shane jogs back to the net while the rest of the team forms two lines at center. One of the assistant coaches on the field shouts out instructions and the players start running forward two at a time. The striker Marco winds up and shoots. The ball soars high and to the corner of the net but Shane jumps up and catches it in his bare hands. The ball makes a loud crack as he kicks it back up the field past half and he flashes me a smug smile before the next group advances. I can’t take my eyes off his wide chest that’s glistening with sweat as he lunges and dives for the ball. He has his t-shirt stuffed down the back of his shorts and I find myself captivated by the play of muscles that ripple as he moves. He is so much thicker and taller than most of the other players and he commands his net in a way that let’s everyone know that he’s good - better than good. He flexes a powerful thigh as he boots another ball up the field, only breaking to wipe the damp sandy blond hair off of his neck with his t-shirt.
“You want a napkin or something?” Leigh’s voice interrupts my perusal of him.
“Pardon?” I say, blinking.
“Drool much? I get that he’s probably like the sexiest player in the whole league but you don’t have to be so obvious about it,” she snorts.
“I wasn’t staring,” I argue.
“I can’t blame you. I mean, look at those big hands. Makes me wish I was that ball.”
“Shut up, Leigh.”
“Jealous?”
“No, I’m not.”
“So you wouldn’t mind if I slipped him my number?” she laughs clearly trying to goad me.
I have no control over the glare that I send her way but it only makes her laugh harder. “I’m kidding, Caramel. Obviously the famous every-woman’s-wet-dream Shane Mitchell only has puppy dog eyes for you. And he invited you here today so you’re not just another booty call.”
“You don’t know that for sure,” I answer flatly.
“So you did sleep with him!” she shrieks, slapping my arm and I cringe at the slip. “You slut! You weren’t even going to tell me?”
The truth is that I didn’t plan on telling Leigh because I don’t plan on it happening again. One time was one time to many. At least that’s what I’m reminding myself as I stand on the sidelines watching him in all of his sweaty glory.
“Good for you, girl. You needed to get some,” she nods more to herself than to me.
“Leigh?” I say sweetly.
“Hmm?”
“Can you shut up please?”
“Honestly, Caramel?” she says as she looks at me and bats her long, rust-colored eyelashes. “I don’t think I can.”
The whistle blows again and the Head Coach signals that they are finished so the guys start herding toward the locker room. Leigh drags me over so that we are practically blocking the entrance and I’m about to tell her that I’m going to wait out in front of the stadium when Shane appears.
“Looks like you managed to stay dry this time,” he teases as his eyes roam over my body and linger on my breasts.
“Yeah, you should’ve mentioned that they don’t serve beer at practice because I wouldn’t have come,” I snort.
“Shane Mitchell is always guaranteed to make you come, babe,” he says on a wink and I groan at the innuendo.
“How do you actually manage to pick up women with lines like that?”
“Ask me that again the next time I’m buried inside you,” he retorts and I watch as Leigh’s eyes widen into saucers.
“Shane!” I hiss.
“As much as I love foreplay I think that’s my cue to leave,” Leigh says, clearing her throat.
“Don’t go!” I plead at the same time Shane says, “bye.” Leigh winks at me and then turns her attention to Marco who has just come in from the field. She gives him her most sultry smile and he smirks back but takes the bait and heads over.
“Catch you later, Caramel,” she breathes, walking over to meet him.
“Caramel?” Shane asks but I don’t look at him. Instead I watch my friend as she flirts with the young striker.
“She called you Caramel,” Shane tries again and I turn my attention back to him.
“Oh,” I blush. “It’s her nickname for me because of the color of my hair. It’s weird I know but I just can’t bring myself to make a decision between brown and blond,” I explain.
“Don’t,” he says vehemently. “Don’t ever change it. It’s beautiful. Honestly between your hair and those crazy ice blue eyes of yours I don’t think I ever stood a chance. I could barely concentrate when I saw you standing on the sidelines. You threw me right off my game.”
“Somehow I doubt that,” I answer with a roll of my eyes.
He falls silent and it is then that I notice we are the only people left on the field. He is still shirtless, though not as sweaty as before, and even though we are standing a foot apart I can feel the electricity that’s zinging between us. There is an undercurrent of sexual tension so strong that I fear I might short circuit just from the proximity alone. I promised myself that the first time with Shane would be the last but when I’m this close to him it’s like my brain doesn’t seem to want to function.
“Well, thanks for inviting me,” I say awkwardly and he scowls.
“You’re not leaving yet.”
“I’m not?” I say and he opens his mouth to speak but a high-pitched squeal followed by a fit of giggling beats him to it.
“Mitchell!” A gruff voice with a thick Irish accent speaks and
I glance over to see his Coach storming at us with a girl in tow. He has her by the upper arm and he’s moving so quickly that she keeps tripping over her sky high heels. I study the Coach who looks to be in his early fifties with closely cropped white hair and a lean compact body. He is really fit for a man his age and from the looks of him he probably played soccer himself.
“Coach O’Brien?” Shane says questioningly as his eyes dart to the girl. She has long blond hair, a tiny waist and a massive set of fake boobs and from the way Shane is looking at her it’s obvious that he knows her.
“I found this one hiding out in my office. She says she’s waiting for you. Do you know her?” the coach asks and the girl releases another giggle as her eyes travel shamelessly across Shane’s bare chest.
“Yeah, I know her,” Shane mutters and my stomach lurches. So this is the type of girl he is normally into. Interesting. I guess he’s living up to his reputation after all and while the realization that I was right all along should make me happy the reality is that it just makes me feel ill. I can’t fully explain it but as I watch her standing there in her short skirt and come-fuck-me shoes I have the overwhelming urge to both cry and pull out chunks of her hair.
“What are you doing here, Mindy?” Shane says, sending her an accusing glare.
“I wanted to see you,” she whines. “We had such a good time last time!”
“It wasn’t that good,” he snorts and the look of devastation on her face almost makes me feel bad for her. Almost.
“I told you I didn’t want to see you again.”
“I didn’t think you were serious!” she argues and he cuts her off.
“As a heart attack. Now do you want to leave on your own of do you want to be escorted out?” he says in a dangerously low voice that I notice makes her bottom lip quiver.
“Fuck you Shane Mitchell!” she shouts, yanking her arm away from Coach O’Brien and turning on her heel.
On His Turf Page 9