by Holly Hart
Plan foiled, Roberto gritted his teeth and huffed out of the room.
"So," I smiled nervously, "you've got me alone."
Alex reclined in his chair, studying me intently. "You hurt me, you know?"
I nodded, trying to hide a stabbing pain of regret in my stomach that had suddenly materialized out of nowhere. "I know."
"I didn't have any right to expect a relationship, I know that," he muttered, "but I thought I deserved more than just a text."
I nodded again. "I know, you did."
He spread his hands forlornly. "Then… Why?" he asked. "Why didn't you just tell me in person? It's not like," he said, indicating the room, "we don't get the chance to bump into each other from time to time…"
I bit my lip, trying desperately not to think of the night we'd spent together, fornicating under the stars, or the way Alex's hands delicately caressed my skin, or the way I'd woken from a dream, wet between my thighs, with his face burned into my eyelids for weeks. I tried to hide it, but I guessed from the way his posture shifted that he'd noticed something change in my demeanor.
"You still feel something," he murmured, "don't you?"
My jaw was numb, wired shut. I wanted to scream that I did, and that I wanted to jump him where he sat, but I felt paralyzed by fear. Nothing had changed, not really. Every reason I'd agonized and lost sleep over for putting the brakes on our affair still held true. Grant Adams would still fire me in a heartbeat if he found out I’d ignored him, and my two enemies in the press pack were still searching for any reason they could muster to get me fired – and take the world back to how I assumed they thought it should be – a journalist’s old boy’s club. Alex was still the unreliable bad boy he’d always been. In short, I had a whole lot more to lose than he did.
And yet…
I was trembling in my seat, as though the air conditioning had been cranked up and the temperature in the room had dropped far lower than normal. Alex stared at me with unexpected compassion in his eyes. "Just tell me why. Can you do that?"
"I-," I started, choking on my throat. "I didn’t mean to hurt you. I was…afraid".
He looked hurt. "Of me? "
"No!" I said quickly, hot tears filling my eyes.
Alex stood up, staring directly into my eyes with an expression that said, "then of what?" He moved towards me slowly, as though he was approaching a terrified, wounded animal and hoping not to startle it. My feet were locked to the floor, my hands heavy against the arms of the chair, my body locked into place. The only muscles moving in my entire body were the ones guiding my eyes, which tracked his progress eagerly.
Alex closed the distance between us and stood in front of me, reaching his hands slowly towards me – as though terrified that any sudden movement would break the spell.
Finally, with excruciating care, he cupped my shoulder in one of his huge, powerful hands and stilled my trembling body. "It's just me," he whispered. "Chill."
His touch was electric, and the moment I felt it, every word of the conversation I'd shared with Tim flooded back into my mind.
Why the hell was I denying myself the pleasures of youth, I wondered incredulously. What was the risk – that some old men would find out that I was banging a soccer player? Hell – in this day and age, that would probably catapult me to stardom, not doom my career. And the simple fact of the matter was that I couldn’t stop thinking about him anyway. If I gave in to my desires and paid the price, then so what? It surely couldn’t be worse than spending the rest of my time in Spain pining for the affection of a man who would give it to me in a heartbeat, if only I asked…
"I'm sorry," I whispered, "I didn't mean—"
Alex cut me off before I could finish, his eyes filled with anguish. "It doesn't matter," he said urgently, "none of it does. Just tell me, is there anything here? Tell me the truth, Diana – I'm dying out there on the field, and it's all because I can't get you—" he paused, scrunching up his face, "—this, out of my head!"
"There is!" I replied, standing strong against the rampaging storm of the emotional turmoil. "Listen, this," I gestured around, "this career is all I've ever wanted. Since before I even knew how to get into it, this is all I've ever wanted to do. Well, except actually play…"
"You played?" Alex replied with surprise written on his face.
"Well, yeah," I grimaced, "until I blew my knee out in college…"
"I'm sorry."
"For what? You've got nothing to be sorry about. It's me who should be explaining."
"Okay…" He said, falling silent.
I chewed the inside of my mouth, trying to figure out how to phrase the story that I wanted to tell. I decided just to go with the truth. "You know the last thing my boss told me before I came out here?"
He replied slowly. "No…"
"He told me not to sleep with you, you know that?"
"Me!" Alex replied, throwing his arms to his chest in amazement. "Why me?"
I knew he was joking, but I replied seriously, raising my eyebrow to make clear exactly how I felt. "Why you? You've got something of a reputation, you know…"
"So that's why you broke things off?" Alex replied reflectively, his shoulders hunched over. "I can understand that, I guess. I wish you'd told me, though."
"What would you have done?"
"I dunno, talked you out of it? Tried, at least…"
"I didn't know what else to do," I said helplessly, "I don't know how we can do this, Alex. I want it, I do, more than anything, but –."
"But a relationship's not enough," Alex replied understandingly, getting to the very heart of what I was trying to say. "You need more than just sex, or love for that matter – you need to feel useful, and important. Is that it?"
I nodded.
"Believe me, Diana – if there's one person in the world who gets it, it's me. That's the life I live every day. It was never enough for me to play for some two-bit MLS team – I needed to go pro, to have tens of thousands of people watch me from the bleachers, and tens of millions more on the television every week." He fell silent, thinking. "I don't suppose…we could just keep it quiet? Fly under the radar? What are the chances that this boss of yours would actually find out about us?"
"I wish it was that simple," I groaned, "but there's a couple of journalists in the press pack who are out to get me. If I give them so much as a hint, they'll figure it out, and then I'm done for."
Alex rested his head in his hands, seemingly racking his brain for a solution. "Who are they," he growled menacingly without looking up, "tell me the names. No one threatens you and gets away with it…"
"Alex," I protested, moving towards him without even realizing it and cupping his chin with my palm, tugging at it until I was staring him in the eyes. "what can you do about it? You're a player, not their news director."
"I don't mean to sound arrogant, Di," Alex smirked, "but I'm more than just a player, I'm a goddamn star, a global brand now –."
I cut him off, barely bothering to hide my amusement. "Surely you can't say something like that and not sound arrogant?"
"It's not arrogant if it's true," he said simply. Put like that, he had a point. He kinda was a global star now. But I still didn't understand what he could actually do about our problem. "You don't believe me?"
"Oh, I believe you're famous," I said, playing along with his cockiness, "I just don't get what you can possibly do about it…"
"Give me their names," he growled, "and you'll find out." There was an electricity in the air, a heat crackling between us, and I felt something I'd never felt before. I felt like I had a guardian angel – and against all the odds, I believed him.
I stood up, decision made. I saw in Alex's eyes that he thought I was leaving, saw the heartbreak written on his face.
And then I kissed him.
It wasn't tender, it wasn't fragile – it was hungry. I pressed my lips against his hard enough for them to whiten under the pressure. To his credit, Alex didn't hesitate; he kissed me back fiercely, aggressive
ly. I moaned, pressing my body against his. "Oh, yes…" I whispered into his mouth.
He grabbed my hips, spinning both of us around, and sat back down on my canvas director's chair. "Sit," he growled, not giving me a choice as he pulled me down on top of him. I was in no mood to refuse either way.
I bit his lip, feeling the fires of desire stoke between my thighs. "Here?" I asked, worriedly looking around at the stadium's glass outer walls.
Alex looked up at me and grinned. "We're on the tenth floor. Who's gonna see us up here?"
I turned round, brushing a stray hair away from my eyes, and stared at the hand-held camera I'd brought with me. "Oh," I grinned, I dunno – maybe that…"
Alex peered round me curiously. "Oh… Fuck it," he grinned, "let's make a movie."
"Alex…" I moaned, "we can't. I can't." I said the words, but my eyes told another story. I wanted to screw him here, now – on this chair, in this room. I wanted him to make me come, and I didn't care who heard.
"It's your camera, isn't it?" He grinned, reaching around to where my dress zipped at the back. "Maybe you lose the film? Hell – you're gonna have to do something," he said to the soundtrack of the dress unzipping, "it's already got you on camera kissing me."
I threw my head back, contemplating what he'd said. Shit…
Alex's fierce right hand was occupied by undoing my dress, but that didn't stop his left sidling its way up my open legs, stroking the soft, sensitive flesh that marked my inner thighs and working his way towards the begging wetness of my crotch.
"Fine," I groaned, suddenly desperately excited by the thought of having him – having this – on camera. I met his lips once more, kissing him hungrily and biting down on his lip. He took it like the sound of a starting gun – an invitation to slip into high gear. His right hand finished its journey down my back, and released from the responsibility of holding the dress up, its straps fell away from my shoulders. Alex tossed it aside dismissively, gasping as his eyes fell hungrily upon my tanned skin.
He suddenly stood up, shocking me with the abruptness of the action. I clung to him with my thighs, hooking my legs around his streamlined muscular torso by my ankles.
"Where are you taking me?" I asked, short of breath as I peppered Alex's throat with hungry kisses. I was aching for him to fuck me, desperate to feel his big, thick cock stretch me, and to feel his length bottom out inside me.
"To the window," he grinned mischievously. "I want to see the view while I'm fucking you."
"Alex," I whispered, shocked, "this is supposed to be a secret. I don't want the whole city to see my ass pressed up against the glass!"
"I do." He grinned. I scratched his back with my nails, digging them in in the hope that I'd shock him enough that he'd drop me. No such luck.
"That's all you've got?" he said without so much as wincing. "You’ll have to do a hell of a lot better than that…"
I felt vulnerable and open – hell, I was almost completely naked, and Alex was about to take me against a floor-to-ceiling glass wall that looked out across the whole city. Shit, there were probably hundreds of tourists down there right now, and any one of them could look up at any time… I wriggled against his hips, trying to lean back against Alex's powerful, muscular grip, but that didn't do anything. Well – almost nothing.
"Now you're just warming up my cock," Alex growled, pressing my ass and the naked skin of my back against the cold window glass.
I yelped. "Alex, seriously," I moaned, "anyone could be watching!"
He pressed his mouth against mine, and to my shame, I couldn't resist leaning in to his kiss. I bit his lip, and he stared at me with a mischievous grin. "That's the point. I mean, there's almost no chance anyone's looking up right now, and there's every chance that it's too sunny for them to see anything through the glass anyway…"
"But…" I moaned.
His cock pressed against my bare leg. "Exactly," he growled. "There’s that little chance that someone is watching; that's what's so damn hot about it."
Alex reached round, unhooking my bra and tossing it aside. His eager mouth drove down towards my nipples, rolling the hard nubs between his lips. I couldn't help it, I pressed myself down and towards his thick cock, which was radiating a desperate heat. I succumbed. Alex was right, the thought that anyone could lift their eyes and see him fucking me against the glass was…
… Liberating.
"Do it," I panted. "Fuck me."
Alex looked up at me, his mouth still locked against my tits, but still somehow fashioned into a grin. "I knew you were filthy," he moaned with delight. But he did just as I had asked.
My hands took on a life of their own, reaching down and undoing his belt. Without an ounce of fat to be found anywhere on Alex's slim, muscular body, his jeans fell away from his hips in an instant. "No underwear?" I asked, grinning.
"I knew you were coming." He smiled back, with the kind of glint in his eye that said – I never wear any. He kicked away his shoes, the jeans now pooled around his ankles, and I pulled the plain tee over his head, revealing his cut stomach and washboard flat abs. He leaned in to my hair, took a deep breath through his nostrils and reached down to my panties.
"Careful," I moaned as his fingers probed between my legs, "they won't come off…"
I spoke too soon, because Alex didn't take the hard route of putting me down even for a second to let me take them off – he just ripped them off in a casual, awesome display of his strength.
"Fuck…" I groaned, "I liked that pair!"
Alex just grunted, and the primal noise made me immediately aware of precisely how turned on I was. He lowered his hands to my hips, and made to kneel down. I had a vision of what he was about to do – lift me onto his shoulders and eat me out against the glass. I knew I'd come, and hard.
But I didn't want to. Not like that, anyway.
"No," I panted, "I want you in me. Now."
Alex looked at me with the daring expression of a man who wanted me to be absolutely certain. "You sure you're ready?"
I was more than ready. If Alex thought that I wasn't wet enough to take his massive cock, he didn't know how often I'd thought about him taking me these past couple of weeks.
"Want to check?" I said, grinning cheekily.
Alex reached between my legs, his skepticism turning to delight in a second. He lifted me back up, pressing the head of his thick cock against the sopping wet slit between my thighs. I reached down eagerly, grabbing the impressive organ. It felt hot enough to burn me, but I persevered, guiding him inside me. I bit my lip as the thick cock stretched my pussy, grinding against my clit as Alex pushed his way forcefully inside.
"Fuck, Di," he gasped, as though one-syllable words were all that his brain could handle alongside the pleasure of finally entering me. He rested a second to let my body get used to the sudden stretch, but I shook my head. I didn't care how sore I'd be tomorrow – I needed to feel the heat of his seed blooming inside me. He cocked his head in surprise – but Alex wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth.
He took control.
Alex gripped my hips hard, digging the tips of his short fingernails into my soft skin, and pulled me towards him, lifting my ass slightly off the glass surface until the full length of his cock was sunk like Excalibur between my thighs. He took one hand away, so he was supporting my entire weight with only one arm and his cock, and rested it gently on my throat.
And then he started fucking me.
I yelped, "Holy crap," as he powered into me the first time, crashing so hard that his pelvic bone ground against my clit, sending lightning dancing through my body. He did it again, his hand closing possessively around my throat, and he leaned in, kissing my collarbone.
"Jesus, you're tight," he groaned, slamming into me again, holding me up effortlessly as he used me like a sex toy. I blushed with pleasure, not that he saw it, and before long, the only color in my cheeks was the flush of a budding orgasm. Alex didn't stop, and I was glad of his athletic strength,
because he took me harder, faster and longer than any man who'd ever made his way between my legs.
I began to see stars. I wasn't sure whether it was because the force of Alex's incessant thrusts was slamming my head against the hard glass – so hard I was worried it might crack, or because I was that close to orgasm.
I was pretty sure it was the latter.
"Be as loud as you like," Alex panted between thrusts. "The interview rooms are all soundproof."
For a girl whose experience of sex at college had been dictated by paper-thin walls and judgmental roommates, those words were like music to my ears.
I did as I was told.
"Jesus Christ," I screamed, "Alex, Alex – don't stop."
"I'm going to," he grunted, "fucking," another grunt, "cum," Alex moaned into my ear. I was so close, I couldn't let him do it without me, so I clenched my pussy around his thick cock. That was all it took.
"Come inside me," I whispered into his ear. He looked up me hungrily, almost joyfully, and thrust hard – once, twice, and one last time.
The world exploded between my thighs.
At that point, I thought that nothing could go wrong again. I didn’t know how wrong I was.
21
Alex
The sun was beating down especially hard for Barcelona in October, but the whole of Spain was mired in the depths of late, hot Indian summer. Still, the weather was no call for cancelling training – even though, in hindsight, that would have saved my season.
I killed the incoming soccer ball dead with a feather-light touch on the outside of my foot, drawing impressed hollers and whistles from a couple of members of one of the youth teams training alongside the main pitch.
"Rodriguez, rondo," the coach barked. I grimaced. The rondo was right up there with the last things I wanted to be doing on a day as hot as today, but I didn't have a choice – in this camp, the coach's word was law.
"Yes, boss," I shouted, running up to the coned-off area set out for the exercise. I halted my run near the coach nevertheless, to make him aware of an issue I'd noticed. "Mind going easy on me today, boss?" I asked. "My quad's feeling a bit tight – I don't want to push it too far."