He looked at her, those dark eyes of his staring deep into hers. ‘Jesus. You’re beautiful.’
‘Shut up,’ she laughed. ‘Mind you, you do look incredibly sexy in that football kit. It’s verging on a major turn-on, mister.’
He grinned, sliding a hand down the front of her jeans, kissing the side of her neck, making her groan out loud.
‘Come on, Ryan, this isn’t fair. You’ve got to get back…’
He grabbed her hand again, dragging her into an empty side room, locking the door from the inside.
‘Ryan… what are you doing? If they…’
‘If they, what? If they find me having sex before a big match they’re gonna drop me?’
‘They might,’ she pointed out, already wanting him in her and sod the consequences. Despite the fact it was the last thing that should be happening. ‘If they catch us.’
He grinned again, pulling her closer, unzipping her jeans as he kissed her slowly, his tongue touching the roof of her mouth, running along the back of her teeth, sending her whole body into spasms of unexpected pleasure. The danger of being caught, the fact they really shouldn’t be doing this, it only made everything ten times more exciting.
‘No-one’s gonna catch us, babe,’ he said, sliding her jeans down, his fingers pulling at her panties. ‘Relax.’
How could she do anything else when he was about to send her on a flying visit to heaven? Even the sound of voices outside in the corridor, the constant noise of footsteps walking backwards and forwards was both a distraction and a turn-on. But the biggest turn-on was the fact he was going to make love to her wearing his full football kit. Jesus, she’d actually dreamt about this, and now it was happening.
‘Ryan…’
His mouth covered hers, silencing her with another deep kiss as he pushed his way into her, hard and fast, the kisses matching the intensity as they fucked each other to within an inch of their lives in record quick time. It took just a few beautiful minutes for him to reach his own goal, and a second or two more for Amber to reach hers. Then it was over. Done.
‘You are in so much trouble if they find out,’ Amber breathed, sliding an arm round the back of his neck, running her fingers along his rough, bearded jaw line, her eyes watching their every move as she tried to catch her breath.
‘They won’t find out,’ he smirked, pulling her jeans back up for her, his mouth so close to hers as he spoke. ‘And I’m certainly not gonna tell them.’
‘You’d better have enough energy left for this match.’ She started playing with the hair at the nape of his neck, staring into his eyes, wishing they could stay there, just the two of them. Wishing they could shut the rest of the world out. This falling in love lark was hard work, having to fight those needy feelings that wouldn’t seem to lie low, having to let him go when she really didn’t want to. ‘I love you, Ryan Fisher.’
‘Hey, I love you, too, beautiful. I love you, too.’
She closed her eyes as he kissed her again, sliding her hand up under his football strip, touching his warm skin, which was a mistake, because the second she did that she felt that familiar stomach flip and a desperate need to have him again, but this time she pulled back. Stopped herself from getting him into any more trouble.
‘You’re not doing this just to piss Jim off, are you?’ Amber asked, zipping her jeans back up.
‘Now, why would I do that, huh?’ Ryan grinned, running a hand through his hair.
She couldn’t help smiling, pulling him back for one last kiss, pushing herself against him even though she’d promised herself she’d behave, let him get out of there before somebody found them. ‘You know why.’
He grinned, slipping a hand up under her top and grabbing a quick feel before pulling away, opening the door and backing out of it, mouthing something incredibly rude at her as he finally left her alone.
Amber smiled a smile she felt as though she’d been waiting to smile for over a decade now. Ryan Fisher had well and truly got to her. And for that, she really was quite grateful.
*
Nobody had any idea of Ryan’s forbidden warm-up routine. Nobody had any idea what he’d done just half an hour before kick-off, because he’d played the game of his life that afternoon. His energy levels had been up there, the adrenalin rush he’d got from fucking Amber in that side room had kicked in big time, leaving him raring to get out there and show his old team mates that he’d lost none of the talent he’d shown when he’d played with them. He’d been on the kind of form most clubs and their managers could only dream of, scoring two goals within ten minutes of each other in the first twenty-five minutes of the game, sending the Red Star supporters into a frenzy, raising expectations that their star striker was on a roll. And he was.
With another two goals in the second half – one in the dying minutes of the game – Ryan Fisher had bagged himself a hat-trick plus one, and another ‘Man of the Match’ Award. He was fucking flying! By the time the final whistle came he was higher than any drug had ever made him, punching the air and yelling his delight at the home fans, sharing their excitement. Jesus! Life couldn’t get any frigging better for him right now. He was playing like he’d never played before, he felt the fittest he’d been in ages, and he was in love. Shit! Who’d have thought? Ryan Fisher – in love.
‘You did good out there,’ Jim said, patting Ryan on the shoulder as he walked towards the tunnel, the sound of the crowd still deafening, drowning out the voice over the tannoy issuing instructions to the away fans to stay put. ‘Well done.’
Ryan looked at his manager. Yeah, he looked as though he really meant that. Professional to the end, that was Jim Allen. Despite that one lapse near the beginning of the season – and Ryan totally understood why that had happened now – he hadn’t done a thing to hamper Ryan’s career at Red Star. Even if he had threatened to. ‘Thanks, boss.’
Jim put a hand on his arm, stopping him from walking away. ‘But pull another stunt like the one you did before this game, son, and I’ll drop you faster than you can blink. You got that?’
Ryan stared at him, narrowing his eyes. ‘What the hell are you talking about?’
‘I can forgive her because, for some reason, she’s acting like a love-sick puppy that can’t bear to leave your side but I know Amber, and she’ll grow out of that. You, on the other hand, should know better. There are rules, Ryan. There are rules, and you either play by them or we find a way to make sure you have no other choice.’
‘What the…’
‘You get your kicks after the match, Fisher. Do you hear me?’
Ryan shook his arm free and continued walking towards the tunnel, a smile slowly spreading across his face. So, Jim Allen had known about the secret sex in the side room. Ryan had a feeling it wouldn’t have escaped his notice; he let nothing get past him, and Ryan knew that. Did he honestly think he didn’t know how closely Jim was watching him? Of course he bloody knew!
As he walked down the tunnel crowds of people flocked around him, throwing questions at him, none of which he could make out through the cacophony of voices surrounding him. He had the post-match interviews to do, and then he had every intention of going out to celebrate – but not without Amber. Ryan was one half of a couple now, and he liked the feeling that gave him. He liked the security, the safeness. He liked the fact she was always there. Everything he’d steered clear of before he now craved. How life could turn around in an instant.
As he pushed through the double doors at the start of the tunnel that led back into the ground, he was guided to the tiny corner of the corridor where the post-match interviews took place, craning his neck to see if he could see Amber. He had no idea if she was doing the interviews for News North East; he hadn’t even thought to ask her when he’d seen her earlier. He’d had other things on his mind. But, as he caught sight of her across the corridor, leaning back against the wall, her arms folded, he couldn’t help but smile, a smile that only got wider as she mouthed ‘Well done, baby’. All that mattered was that she was pr
oud of him. All that mattered was that she trusted him, that she loved him. All that mattered was that she loved him. If he had that, he knew he could cope with anything.
‘Wait ‘til last,’ he mouthed back, wanting to get everyone else out of the way before he spoke to her. He wanted her to be the last person he saw before he went back into the dressing room. He needed that to happen.
She nodded that she’d got the message and Ryan continued on with the various post-match interviews they had lined up, all of them short and basically asking him much the same thing, but all the time he was just waiting for Amber to take her turn. Which she eventually did. Last in line, just as he’d wanted her to be.
He waited until she’d asked him the usual stuff, and he talked about the game, the four goals he’d scored, how it felt to be playing such a big part in helping his boyhood-supported team have a chance of winning that league title. But, as soon as she’d thanked him for talking to News North East, he stopped her from walking away by gently taking her hand, asking if the cameras could stay rolling for a second. He pushed a hand through his dark hair and looked at her. The nerves were kicking in now, but he’d wanted to do this from the second he’d woken up that morning. He’d opened his eyes in that hotel room, in a bed on his own, and he’d known – he’d just known – that he had to do this.
‘Listen, I… Before everyone goes I’ve got something I need to do. And it involves this woman here in front of me.’
Amber looked at him, a slightly confused expression on her face, which turned into something a little more anxious as he held her hand tighter, pulling her into shot. ‘Ryan…’
He smiled at her, leaning over to give her the briefest of kisses, his nerves suddenly dissipating the second his lips touched hers. He felt on top of the world right now, and this would only make that feeling stronger, make it complete. He was way out of his comfort zone, but living on the edge was what he did best. And this was way out there. Nobody would be expecting this, not from him.
‘I love you, Amber Sullivan. I love you, babe, and… and I want to ask you something…’ His eyes never left hers, his fingers gently stroking a stray strand of red hair away from her face. Shit! He was really going to do this! And he’d never felt so frigging excited. ‘I want to…’ He leaned forward and kissed her again, his fingers wrapping themselves tightly around hers. ‘Will you marry me?’
*
‘You’re supposed to report the sports news, not be the sports news,’ Kevin sighed, quaffing a large mouthful of champagne in the Players Lounge. ‘Congratulations, though. Despite the fact our satellite friends got the bigger coup because their broadcast went out live, that should still guarantee us a few more viewers when our segment goes out in the late bulletin in an hour or so. Everyone loves a local fairytale with a happy ending.’
Amber leaned back against the bar, sipping her own champagne. ‘It’s hardly a fairytale, Kevin. And it hasn’t even begun yet, never mind have a happy ending.’
‘It’ll be a frigging fairytale when we do our own story on the pair of you, and your “romance”.’
She looked at her producer. ‘Huh? Sorry, did you just say you’re going to do a story about me and Ryan?’
‘Of course we’re going to do a bloody story. We work on a local news programme, Amber. And, right now, you’re the frigging news. Our very own Sports Editor has just got engaged to one of the most famous, most high-profile, most talented players in the country right now, a player who just happens to be both a local lad and playing for one of the region’s biggest clubs – it’s fucking manna from heaven!’
‘I’m still getting my head around it all,’ Amber sighed, watching Ryan across the other side of the room as he talked to Gary and Rob. He looked relaxed, happy. He looked like a different man to the one she’d first encountered here less than six months ago. Six months, that was such a short time in reality. Six months in which Christ knows what had happened, and she’d just agreed to marry him. Six months ago she’d been determined never to go near another footballer again, and she’d meant it. But then Ryan Fisher had walked into her life and now, after everything she’d ever promised herself, she was about to spend the rest of her life with him. Jesus, just stopping to think about it for a second actually made her feel quite sick.
‘Right, well, I’m off to start planning this story then,’ Kevin said, downing the last of his champagne and slamming the empty glass back down on the bar. ‘I’ll see you in my office first thing Monday morning. Talk your fiancé round, okay?’ He threw her a wink and a grin and walked out of the Players Lounge. Amber turned to face the bar, picking up a bottle of champagne that was sitting on the end of it, pouring out the last of what was left inside, filling her glass back up again.
‘I’d like to say congratulations, but I’d be telling you something I can’t ever really mean.’
She turned to look at Jim as he leaned forward on the bar, his suit jacket now off and his shirtsleeves rolled up to the elbows. ‘Then I’d rather you said nothing at all.’
He looked down at his clasped hands. ‘It’s killing me, Amber. I mean, it was hurting before, before he asked you to marry him, but…’ He looked up at her, his eyes almost pleading, and Amber couldn’t help but feel her stomach lurch slightly. ‘What are you doing, Amber? You don’t belong with him, you don’t… Is this not just something you’re doing to try and deflect from what you really feel for me?’
‘You flatter yourself, Jim. And this really isn’t the time or the place to be having this conversation, so, if you don’t mind…’
He grabbed her wrist as she made to go, swinging her back round to look at him. ‘We belong together, Amber. Me and you. He isn’t right for you, he’ll let you down, he’ll hurt you…’
‘Then he’s really no different to you, Jim. Is he?’
She walked off without looking back at him, knowing that wasn’t the end of it but she couldn’t deal with him right now. She just wanted to be with Ryan. But it seemed the world and its mother was conspiring to stop her from getting to him, even though he was only across the other side of somewhere that was smaller than the average living room.
‘Engaged?’ Ronnie asked, looking at Amber with wide eyes.
She stared back at him with eyes just as wide. ‘Oh, now you want to talk to me.’
‘You’re seriously going to marry him?’ Ronnie went on, ignoring her slight dig.
‘I’m thinking about it, yes. You got a problem with that?’
‘Amber… just a few months ago you were telling me this wasn’t anything serious and now he’s proposing to you live on TV! What’s that all about?’
‘I love him, Ronnie. Okay? And, yes, this has come as much of a surprise to me as it has to you, because getting married isn’t anything anyone expected Ryan Fisher to do, but, do you know what? I quite like surprises.’
‘You never used to,’ Ronnie said, an almost defeated tone to his voice. ‘Shit, Amber. I hate the way things are changing.’
‘It happens,’ Amber smiled, taking his hand and squeezing it. ‘And anyway, nobody’s doing anything yet. He may have asked me to marry him but any wedding is a long way off, believe me.’
‘Glad to hear it,’ Freddie Sullivan said as he joined them, a pint of lager in one hand, the other stuffed in his pocket. ‘All I can say is, he’d better look after my girl or I’ll have something to say to him.’
Amber sighed, throwing her head back. ‘I need this, don’t I?’ She looked at her dad. ‘You do realise I’m thirty-seven-years-old, don’t you? And that I can look after myself.’
‘Oh, yeah, I realise that, pet. I just hope you know what you’re getting into with Ryan, that’s all. Compared to you, he’s still a bairn.’
She looked at him again. ‘Thanks, Dad. Now I feel really old. Look, lunch tomorrow, is it going to be a problem? Would you rather me and Ryan didn’t come?’
‘Don’t be bloody stupid!’ Freddie admonished, taking a long sip of lager. ‘I’m just acting like any dad
would act when they find out their only daughter is getting hitched to football’s worst kind of bad boy.’
‘Yeah, that statement makes me feel really excited about bringing him over to yours.’
‘He’s gonna be part of the family, Amber. And if you say he’s changed then I’m more than willing to give him the benefit of the doubt.’
Amber said nothing, she just let go of Ronnie’s hand and finally made her way over to Ryan.
‘Hey, gorgeous,’ he smiled, sliding an arm around her waist and pulling her in against him. ‘Everything okay?’
‘Apart from the flack you’re getting left, right and centre from my close friends and family, you mean?’
‘I take it they’re ecstatic about the engagement, then?’
‘Over the frigging moon,’ she smirked, closing her eyes as his mouth touched hers, an instant feeling of calm washing over her. ‘They’ll get used to the idea. I’m still getting used to it myself, if I’m honest.’
He kissed her again and she let herself fall against him, a sudden tiredness now joining that calm feeling. ‘It feels so right,’ he whispered, stroking her cheek with his thumb. ‘I love you so much, Amber. I need you, babe, and I just want you to be there, in my life. Always.’
‘I never had you down as the romantic type,’ she smiled, letting her fingers slide slowly up under his shirt.
‘Yeah, well, I’m full of surprises, me.’
‘Do you wanna skip all this shit now? Go back home? Do some celebrating of our own?’
He grinned, sliding his hands down over her backside, pushing her harder against him. ‘If that celebrating includes sex then I’m all over it, beautiful.’
‘And in a little while, I’d quite like you all over me.’
‘Jesus, Amber…’ he groaned, running his hands up her back, underneath her top,‘… you’re killing me here.’
‘Come on,’ she whispered, her mouth touching his as she spoke. ‘Let’s get out of here. The only party I’m in the mood for right now is a private one.’
Striker (Book 1 in the 'Striker' Trilogy) Page 39