‘Get out of here.’
He stepped outside, but turned back around one more time, his face a little more serious. ‘I will see you tomorrow, won’t I?’
She folded her arms, nodding. ‘Yeah. You’ll see me tomorrow.’
‘I… I love you, Amber.’
‘Yeah. I know you do, Ryan. I know you do.’
*
‘What are you doing here?’
Amber looked up sharply at the sound of Jim’s voice, shutting down her laptop and unplugging it from the power source. ‘I could ask you the same question,’ she replied, sliding her computer into its bag. ‘I’m here because I had a meeting with one of the PR guys about the Christmas Charity Dinner the club is throwing next week, and which News North East is covering. He kindly allowed me to use the Press Lounge to do some work while I was here. What’s your excuse? Because, unless I’ve mysteriously time-travelled without realising it, shouldn’t you be at the hotel with the squad preparing for tomorrow’s derby match?’
‘They’ve gone on ahead, with Colin. I had a bit of work to finish off myself before I head over there.’
‘Right, well, I’ll leave you to it. I’ve got shopping to do.’
‘Amber…’ He reached out and grabbed her arm, causing her to turn around and face him.
‘Do you want to let me go?’
‘I thought we were friends.’
‘We are. Can you let go of me, Jim. Please.’
He reluctantly let her go, putting both his hands in his pockets as he looked down at the ground. ‘I’m having real trouble handling all of this, Amber.’
‘Handling what?’ she asked, sliding her bag up onto her shoulder and checking her watch.
He looked at her, fixing her with those green eyes of his and Amber tried hard to stop her stomach from somersaulting, but that familiar dip happened, causing her to step backwards, away from him. ‘You and Ryan Fisher. Jesus, have you got any idea how hard it is for me, knowing you’re sleeping with my star striker? Imagining what he does to you, what he…’
‘You had your chance, Jim. And you chose to blow it. Twice. Look, I really thought we were past all of this…’
He came closer, his hands still in his pockets but his eyes were fixed firmly on hers. ‘I’ll never be “past it”, as you put it. Ever. And yes, I blew it, but I was stupid…’
‘That’s not my fault.’
He reached out to touch her cheek, running his fingers lightly over her skin, resting them on her lips before slowly pulling his hand away. ‘I can’t stop thinking about you, Amber.’
‘Again, that’s not my fault, Jim.’ She wished with all her heart that she could tell him she never thought of him at all now, but she’d be lying. He was all she’d thought about for over twenty years. It wasn’t that easy to push those feelings aside. Even with a drop-dead gorgeous young footballer by her side. Someone who loved her, or told her he did, anyway. Whether he really meant that was still yet to be discovered.
Jim’s eyes searched her face, sending a million tiny shivers shooting through her body, a warning sign that she should walk away from this, before something really stupid happened. Again.
‘I’ve got to go,’ she whispered.
He backed away from her, indicating the still-open door of the empty Press Lounge. ‘You gonna be here tomorrow?’ he asked, his eyes following her as she walked to the door.
‘You know I’ll be here,’ Amber replied.
‘Supporting your man, huh?’
She gave him one last look before heading out of the Press Lounge, saying nothing as she walked briskly along the corridor, pushing open the double doors that led back out into the main atrium.
It was only when she was finally outside that she stopped to take a breath, leaning back against the wall, closing her eyes for a second as she rummaged about in her bag for that packet of cigarettes she always kept handy for times such as this.
‘I can’t do this,’ she whispered to herself, taking a long drag on the cigarette before stubbing it out on the wall beside her, throwing it onto the floor and grinding it into the concrete with her foot. ‘Shit!’ She closed her eyes again, taking a deep breath and exhaling deep. Wasn’t she supposed to be this hard-faced bitch with the ice-queen reputation who could handle anything? Except her past, it would seem. When it came to that she was the weakest, most pathetic person she knew. Someone who seemed hell bent on making one mistake after another with no real chance of changing anything.
Taking her car keys out of her pocket she looked at them, turning them over and over in her hand before shoving them back in her bag and walking back inside Tynebridge, striding through the main entrance. Tunnel vision had taken over, and it was wrong and so incredibly stupid, what she was about to do, because it would give him the upper hand all over again – unless she shifted the goalposts, laid down ground rules. Played the game the way she wanted to play it this time.
‘I’ve left something in the Press Lounge,’ she smiled at Patrick, the security guard behind the main desk. He just smiled back and got on with studying something on his computer screen.
Pushing through the double doors that led down to the Players Lounge, dressing rooms and press areas, Amber walked quickly towards Jim’s office. If she stopped for even a second she knew she could change her mind and actually start acting like an adult about this, but that wasn’t what she wanted. Not anymore. She wanted some kind of rush, something to make her feel like she was somebody, after Ryan had quite plainly shown her she could be forgotten quite easily at the drop of a hat. A feeling she should be used to, yet still she kept coming back for more.
Reaching Jim’s office, she didn’t stop to knock, didn’t even think of the fact that someone could be in there with him. She didn’t really care. But, thankfully, he was alone, standing by the filing cabinet, his back to the door, which she kicked shut behind her, shrugging off her coat and throwing it down on the floor. He turned around, looking at her with a more-than-surprised expression on his face as she walked straight over to him, taking the papers he was holding out of his hands and tossing them aside. Neither of them said anything as she reached out to gently touch his cheek with the palm of her hand, her eyes never leaving his. There was nothing that needed to be said; both of them knew where this going because it had been heading that way ever since he’d arrived back in the North East. Ever since she’d let him near her again. That’s when the touch-paper had been lit.
Closing her eyes, she slid her hand round the back of his neck, moving closer until her body finally touched his, their mouths meeting in a slow, deep kiss, a kiss that confused and scared her; yet it was a kiss that felt so safe, so familiar that she didn’t ever want it to stop.
His arms fell around her, pulling her closer against him, their mouths still moving together in that same beautiful rhythm; a kiss that seemed never-ending. His hands stroked her back, his tongue touching hers as that kiss continued to send Amber’s heart racing, her skin breaking out in a million goose bumps as a cacophony of warning signals fired off inside her head, one after the other, all of which she ignored. The deepening kiss was silencing them, her fingers now buried in his grey-flecked hair until, finally, she pulled away, but only slightly.
And still nobody said anything. Her heart was pounding at what felt like a thousand beats a minute as she reached up under her dress, sliding her underwear down until they fell to the floor, kicking them away, their eyes still locked together. Her mouth had gone dry, but as Jim slid a hand between her legs she knew she was anything but dry down there, and she finally broke the stare, closing her eyes as his fingers began working their magic. But not for long. She wanted to take control here.
She pushed him back onto the sofa, freeing him within seconds, smiling at the fact he was already hard, already waiting to take her, just as she wanted him to be, and her head started to spin slightly with the anticipation of what was to come. Crouching down in front of him, she took him in her hand, a strange kind of freedom washi
ng over her as she held him there, touching him; an almost warped, liberated feeling. She held the power, or she believed she did, anyway, and right now, that was good enough for her.
Leaning forward, she took him in her mouth, just briefly, so briefly he almost didn’t have time to register it was happening at all but the slight flinch she felt from him told her he had. The groan he gave told her he wanted more, but she was playing by her rules today.
She let him go, standing up and straddling him, slowly lowering herself down onto him, taking him in her hand once more as she guided him inside, her whole body relaxing the second he was there. It was like a beautiful, warm injection that she’d only now just realised she needed. His hands were on her hips, pushing her down onto him, allowing him to go deeper, and she threw her head back, unable to stop the moan of sheer pleasure from escaping as she reached down and touched herself, helping her on her way to reaching that beautiful finale. And she knew he was watching her do that, knew he was watching her because he couldn’t hold back either, and it was the biggest turn-on. Knowing he was watching her touch herself was enough to bring on those waves of white-hot tingles, cause that incredible, beautiful pain to spread right through her and she couldn’t help but shout out his name as everything seemed to come crashing to an end all at once. She felt him explode inside her, both of them accepting the quick climax they’d created, but not quietly. The feeling was too raw, too exquisite to keep those emotions in check, despite where they were. But, oh God, she didn’t want him to leave her body. Not yet. She just wanted to stay there, for a little while longer, living this moment, before the reality of what she’d done hit her head on.
‘I knew you’d come back to me,’ he whispered, gently stroking the hair from her eyes, the intensity in his own causing what little breath Amber had left to catch in her throat. What it was she really felt for this man she’d probably never really know. It was like a life-long obsession she just couldn’t shake. But whatever it was, she needed it. Needed him. Needed what had happened here. Just as much as she needed Ryan.
‘Who said anyone was coming back?’ She finally managed to speak, her fingers now stroking the back of his neck as his mouth touched hers again, their breathing still shallow and fast, but all Amber was aware of was that he was still inside her, and this kiss they were sharing was making her heart race and her head spin even faster than it had done before. But, as he slowly withdrew, the action of him leaving her body brought with it a realisation that Amber knew had been there all along. Despite what had happened here.
She climbed off him, hurriedly retrieving her underwear, pulling herself back together as he stood up, too, watching her as she smoothed her dress down, ran her fingers through her hair.
‘I’m not sorry that happened, Amber.’
She looked at him, confusion pushing itself forward to become the dominant emotion amongst an already jumbled mixture that were crowding her head. ‘Neither am I,’ she said quietly, and she wasn’t. She’d wanted this; she’d been the one to make it happen. If she’d just let it go, left well alone, would he still have been willing to take that step back and let her get on with her life? ‘Jim, I… I can’t leave Ryan. I need you to know that because… because he needs me.’
‘He doesn’t need anyone, Amber. Ryan Fisher is a law unto himself.’
‘That’s why he needs me.’ She walked over to him, gently running her fingertips over his slightly open mouth, watching every move they made, her stomach flipping over and over in those never-ending somersaults she was so used to feeling every time she was near this man. ‘He’s not as strong as he makes out.’
Jim frowned, taking her hand, his fingers intertwining with hers. ‘Are we talking about the same Ryan Fisher here?’
Amber said nothing as a feeling of guilt she didn’t enjoy, but should have expected, washed over her. ‘All I know is, I can’t do it anymore. I can’t keep on seeing you, being around you, and not be able to touch you or kiss you, I… I can’t do it, Jim. So, you’ve won, again. Because I can’t do without you. I just can’t do it…’
‘Hey, come on. Come on. Nobody’s won anything, Amber. Jesus, honey, we can’t help the way we feel.’
‘Yes, Jim. We can. But it’s just too bloody hard to walk away this time, when you’re right there, in my life, every day. I can’t fight it anymore.’
‘Then don’t.’
‘I care about Ryan… No, I really do care about him, despite what… despite what I’ve just let happen.’ Her heart did another little dance as she remembered the feel of him in her hand, her mouth; he tasted so good, felt even better. And she needed him. It was as simple as that. ‘I know how he comes across, but he’s not half as cocky or as arrogant as he makes himself out to be. Not all the time…’
‘He’s also not the clean-cut, settling down type either, Amber. And you know that. Honey, I know he was out all Friday night. I know he didn’t come home. I overheard Gary talking when they were outside waiting for the coach. And the state of them… You only had to look at them to see the kind of night they’d had.’
Amber looked down at her hand in Jim’s, the way his thumb was absentmindedly stroking her fingers, and it felt nice. It felt safe. She felt safe. ‘I shouldn’t be doing this to him. Especially not with you. How’s he going to react if he ever finds out?’
‘We make sure he never does. That’s all we can do, baby. We just have to make sure he never does.’
She looked up into his green eyes. What was she doing? Did she really know? Because this was dangerous. This was only repeating mistakes she’d vowed never to repeat again but him turning back up here, taking the job at Red Star, it had changed everything. It had turned her well-ordered, compartmentalised life on its head. He was back, and she couldn’t ignore him. She couldn’t do it. She just wasn’t strong enough. She’d waved the white flag and admitted defeat, in spectacular fashion.
‘I’ve really got to go,’ she whispered, although she made no attempt to break free of his grip.
‘It’s all I’ve ever wanted, Amber. This. You. It’s all I’ve ever wanted.’
She closed her eyes as his mouth lowered down onto hers again, the taste of him so different to Ryan, so familiar. So calming. She could have stayed there in his arms all afternoon, just holding him again, being close to a man she was never going to forget, mainly because she wouldn’t let herself. ‘He can’t know, Jim. So many things could go wrong if he ever finds out about us. So many things…’
‘He won’t find out, baby. He won’t, I promise. I promise.’
She looked at him. ‘Don’t promise me anything, Jim. Don’t… don’t do that.’ She pulled away from him as the cold reality of what she was getting herself into finally hit home. Yet still she couldn’t walk away. Or wouldn’t. That was probably the word she should be using. ‘I’d better leave.’
‘I won’t hurt you again, Amber. And that’s a promise you can’t stop me from making.’
Amber looked at him, reaching out to run her fingertips over his rough chin, leaning in for one last kiss, not sure if she could do without the feel of his mouth on hers now, the touch of his fingers on her skin. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow,’ she said, before walking away. Jim Allen was firmly back in her life now. The game was on. And she’d just signed up for one hell of a dangerous replay.
Chapter Fourteen
The atmosphere surrounding Tynebridge on derby day was something else. Completely different to any other match, this one carried with it feelings of heightened passion, a belly-full of pride; an almost tribal air surrounded the stadium as local fans from opposite sides of the river came together in the first of two local derby games to be played out that season.
The city was heaving with football fans and Sunday shoppers, the traffic busier than usual, roads grid-locked in places as people headed towards Tynebridge in time for the 1.30pm lunchtime kick-off. More police than usual lined the streets that led to Red Star’s impressive new stadium on the very edge of the city centre, every
single one of them on the look out for any trouble at an event that had been known to throw up a few altercations between opposing fans in the past as heightened feelings and local pride seemed to blank out the fact this was a game of football, not a war zone.
Amber stood outside the main entrance, leaning back against the wall as she finished her cigarette, watching the crowds of supporters as they filed into the ground through the various entrances that lined the outside of the stadium, the noise ten-fold on what it usually was on an ordinary match day. She hadn’t slept a wink all night; her head had been too full of colliding feelings of guilt for what she was doing to Ryan, and a selfish need to take what she wanted from a man who owed her so much. And if that wasn’t enough, Kevin had rung early that morning to ask her if she wouldn’t mind taking over from Harry, the reporter who was supposed to be covering the match for Monday’s sports bulletin on News North East. He’d suddenly been taken ill and wasn’t up to working. Amber had really wanted to say yes, she did mind, because she knew Harry, and she knew he was a huge Wearside Spartans fan and she had every suspicion that his “illness” was nothing more than the result of a Saturday night out on the drink that meant he’d got so wrecked he was in no fit state to come into work, but in a perfectly good enough state to prop himself up against the bar in his local in front of the big-screen TV for an afternoon of football and hair-of-the-dog. Yes, she was quite possibly being over-cynical, but the thought of having to interview Jim after the match, to stand there and talk to him as though he was nothing more than the home team’s manager and not the man she’d been infatuated with since the age of sixteen wasn’t something she was looking forward to.
‘If you can just do the post-match interviews, Amber, and I’ll sort out everything else. Is that okay?’ Amber turned to see Kevin Russell lean back against the wall beside her, offering her another cigarette from his own just-opened packet. ‘And I really must give this up,’ he said, sliding a cigarette between his lips and lighting it up. ‘I’m getting grief from the wife over me high blood pressure.’
Striker (Book 1 in the 'Striker' Trilogy) Page 25