by Ally Adams
“Holy fuck, you’re tight,” he hissed between his teeth.
“Because I’ve just had a huge fucking orgasm,” I said, stating the obvious, which got us both laughing. He started teasing my ear with his tongue just to annoy me and I squealed and wriggled stilled pinned underneath him. Then he pushed a little harder and took my breath away.
“That got your attention,” he said.
“You feel so good,” I moaned. The Russian began to slide in and out slowly, and every now and then he stopped to get control. I tried to free my hands from underneath his to get access to him, but he wouldn’t release me. I lifted my butt a bit higher to feel him deeper, and wow did that hurt ... holy hell was he deep. I expected to feel him in my throat any minute. The angle meant he was rubbing on my already engorged sensitive areas and my body began to involuntarily shudder as I worked up to orgasm again.
The Russian felt so full inside me I didn’t know how he was holding on, and then he released my hands, pulled me tighter against him, my butt higher into his stomach and his fingers found my clit. I touched any part of him that I could reach – his balls, his butt, but he had all the control. Then The Russian drew a sharp breath, so I knew he was coming, and I let myself go with him. I was a quivering mess by the time he lowered himself on me.
“Fantastic,” The Russian muttered and I chuckled at his review. He smacked my butt. “I love this butt, amongst other things.”
I turned around to watch him remove the condom and stride back to the bed. Great view. When he returned and slipped in beside me, I broached one of my new strategies to help our relationship.
“Place you hand on my heart,” I said, and he did, then lowered it to play with my nipple. I rolled my eyes and he smiled and moved it back up again.
“You’re no fun, Brooker,” he said.
“I’ll give you fun in a minute,” I warned him. “Mm, I just channeled my mother.”
“And mine, but without the Russian accent,” he said.
“Babe,” I said, using his term of endearment. “This is our sign, to protect us and to show you that you are my only thought.”
He looked confused and ran his tongue over his lower lip as if he was going to be in trouble for something. I leaned in and kissed him quickly before continuing to explain.
“What I mean is ... if you see me in social photos, or giving an interview, or commentating, or even glancing your way in a crowded room, and I place my hand on my heart, even for just a minute, it’s for you. It’s me telling you that you own my heart.”
He smiled and with one hand, cupped my cheek.
“I love that,” he said, and sealed it with a kiss.
Then I remembered ... “Why was your alarm set?” I asked, knowing he didn’t have morning training and wouldn’t need to get to the office until later.
“Ah yeah, that ... Tia’s got a school recital this morning. She’s one of the kids performing and being presented with an award. I promised her I’d come along,” he said.
“You are such a good brother, and such a good lover,” I added.
“That so?” he asked, raising an eyebrow and looking mildly pleased with himself. “Want to come?”
“Not yet, I just had two orgasms,” I said, happily as I stretched out on the bed.
“Focus, Brooker, do you want to come with me to Tia’s presentation?” he asked, a smile on the edge of his lips.
I laughed. “Oh that, yes! I’d love to.”
“Really? You know it’s going to be a bunch of five to ten-year-old kids making a lot of noise, and putting on a performance that only family would endure?” he said, frowning in my direction.
“It’ll be fun,” I said, excited to be invited to a family event.
“Then get your butt into the shower. I’ll join you in a minute,” he said, putting his hands behind his head and leaning back on the bed.
“What are you going to do?” I asked suspiciously.
“Watch you walk in,” he said, and there were signs of life in his lap again, so soon.
*****
I selected a sundress with sandals to wear and then we swung by The Russian’s place so he could grab a clean change of clothes. I avoided going near the bedroom where he was changing, in case he got distracted. We headed off again and got to the school in plenty of time – I was still driving and would drop The Russian home afterward.
“Been meaning to tell you that I like your car, Brooker ... it’s a good size—I can fit in it—and it suits you,” The Russian said, admiring my white BMW Gran Coupé from the inside.
“Thank you, I think.” I wasn’t sure why he thought it suited me. “I love this car, I treated myself to it when I got my contract renewed. I figured I had a bit of security then.”
The Russian nodded. “After you had your home loan sorted?”
“Of course,” I said, “spoken like a man with a management degree.” He smirked at me, but looked approving as well. I pulled into a car park at the school hall that was a fair distance from the entrance, but clearly the elementary school concert pulled a crowd.
The Russian took my hand as we walked in and got lost amongst the crowd. School kids were running around, finding their families, showing off, doing normal kid things. However, it soon became obvious that we were being recognized. It was like a small whisper in the room, and the crowds parted as The Russian spotted his mother and we made our way towards her. Tia saw us and, with a squeal that would break glass, she ran over propelling herself at The Russian, who gave her a hug. Then she saw me and jumped up and down. So cute. I gave her a hug before she raced back to the stage to prepare. I heard her saying to her friends. “That’s my brother, he’s a Saints’ player.”
One little girl next to her said: “I saw his girlfriend on television.” Tia nodded. “She plays sport too and she’s a TV star.”
I chuckled and The Russian sighed. “They’d be more excited if you were a Disney princess and I was the prince.”
“Aren’t we?” I asked, looking a little disappointed.
We made our way towards his mother, Lana. She looked lovely – slim and sophisticated in a lemon dress with high strappy sandals.
“Carla, so good to see you,” she said.
“And you too Lana,” I said, as we exchanged cheek kisses.
“How did Dad get out of this?” The Russian growled.
“Work. But he did get to the last one,” Lana said. “And since you’re the boss at work, you’ll have to come up with a better excuse next year.”
The Russian made a humph sort of sound, but I think he would go to anything that Tia was starring in, he really did adore his little sister.
We found three seats and as I looked around, I couldn’t believe the people sneaking looks at us, especially the mothers sneaking looks at The Russian. A number of people came and went as they greeted Lana and The Russian, and met me.
I whispered to The Russian: “I think some of the cougars in the room are very upset you brought a date.”
The Russian put his arm around my shoulder. “That’s why I brought you, to protect me,” he joked.
Lana patted her son’s shoulder. “I’m so pleased you brought Carla. You are very lucky to have her, I hope you look after her.” She turned to me. “You’ll have to be patient with him Carla, he is a man.”
“He is that,” I said, agreeing and teasing The Russian.
“I hope he knows how lucky he is,” she said, smiling approvingly at both of us. “He can be moody though, and stubborn, but I’m sure you’ll work wonders with him.”
“I’m right here, Mom,” he said, shaking his head and pointing out the obvious.
Then the concert began and I felt like part of the family. The Russian held my hand the whole time ... bliss. But he was right – if I hadn’t been in love and just happy to be sitting in each other’s company, the ninety-minute concert would have been agony!
Chapter 23
After I had dropped The Russian home I spotted the coffee van, t
he very same one that visited the Saints office ... Wendy’s Caffeine Hit. It was written on the van. Too good. I followed her until she pulled up outside a grocery store, and I raced to catch up with her.
“Wendy,” I called. She stopped and looked around. Wendy was probably in her late forties, with bleached blonde hair and a small, wiry build. She looked like she had worked hard all her life.
“You don’t know me,” I said, coming up beside her, “but I’m Carla, The Russian’s girlfriend.”
“Ah, The Russian,” she said, her face softening ... hmm. “One of my favorite customers. Good to meet you, Luv.”
“And you. This is going to sound strange, but Sasha from the Saints’ office ....”
“The media lady?” Wendy asked.
“That’s her. Well, we’re trying to work out how The Russian beats her to the top of the queue each day and we were wondering if he asked you to text him when you were near.”
“Ah,” she said, and waggled her finger at me, “I’m like a doctor ... I don’t reveal anything about my patients’ coffee habits.”
I grinned at her. “I get that, I’m a journalist. But maybe, just maybe, we could do a deal. Perhaps you would like some tickets to a Suns or Saints game, or .... some merchandise ...”
“Hmm,” she rubbed her chin thinking. “Very tempting.”
I pushed a little harder. “In fact, we don’t even need you to reveal what is going on – if anything,” I added hastily. “Just once, if you could text Sasha first so she could race out to meet you ... just the once would be enough to beat him at his own game.”
She laughed. “You girls, that’s funny.”
I grinned at her. “Why don’t I leave you my number and maybe text me when you’ve thought about it?”
“We girls do need to stick together,” she said, handing over her phone as I put my number in.
“Thank you, Wendy. Hope to hear from you,” I said, with a smile.
“I’m not saying I have a system with The Russian, and I’m not saying I don’t, mind you,” she said.
“I hear you,” I agreed, “you’d make a fine reporter.” I said and gave her a wave as I walked away. Everything had a price ... my first boyfriend, a salesman, had taught me that one.
After I had gotten back in my car, I then got a phone call from Carlo, my physio. He was sick and had to cancel my appointment. He was trying to get someone to take it ... I had an idea. I told him about Captain Lucas’s live-in-lover and physio, Mia, who ran her own business on the side and told him Mia was keen to do some casual Suns physio work; here was her chance. Carlo said he was fine with it, so I rang Sasha who asked Alice for Mia’s phone number. I waited for Sasha to text through Mia’s number, called her, and she booked me in that afternoon at ‘their’ place at three-thirty. Done!
*****
It was easy to find Lucas and Mia’s place ... it wasn’t far from The Russian’s, and wow, another amazing place! There was security at the bottom of the hill and my name was on the list to come into the gated community. I drove up and parked on the street in front of the house. Mia was at the front door before I got there, dressed casually in what looked like running gear – sports shorts and a singlet. We gave each other a hug; I could look over her head while I was doing it – I must have had a foot on her.
“I am so glad you called,” she said, “we should have swapped numbers at the airport. Come on up.”
I followed her up the stairs and stopped to admire the view – it was a glasshouse with floor to ceiling windows showing off the stunning ocean views from every angle. Everything was white and the beach literally started at the front door.
“The Russian’s place is pretty good too,” she said, “ the same view, further along.”
“I know,” I agreed, “I don’t think you could ever tire of it.”
“I can’t imagine not seeing this view now, I’m spoilt for life. It’s this way,” she said, heading down a short hall. I followed her as she went into another large, clean, white room set up with all the gear she could possibly need. “This is my physio room; Lucas set it up for me. Mind you, he’s my biggest client.” She at least had the good grace to blush when she said it.
“Does he let you work on the other guys?” I asked, curious.
“Never,” she said, and rolled her eyes. “Nik suggested it once and Lucas almost increased Nik’s need for physio. So I don’t push it. I’ve got plenty of other clients and I prefer females while I work here alone.”
“Makes sense,” I said.
“Change into whatever makes you comfortable, but I suggest just your underwear so I don’t get any cream on you, and you don’t sweat on your clothes,” she said, and added: “Don’t worry Lucas is not here and he wouldn’t walk into this room without knocking anyway.”
I went into the dressing room and stripped off my shorts and shirt, returning to lay on the table as she directed.
“Well, I’m very pleased poor Carlo is sick, sorry Carlo,” Mia said. “You’re the first Suns’ player I’ve worked on.”
I braced as she began to work over my leg and knee. It was much better, but with the pressure the physios applied, there was always an element of pain.
“Speaking of that,” I said between sharp breaths, “I spoke with Carlo and he’d love to hear from you if you want some casual Suns’ work.”
“Really?” she asked, “fantastic, thank you!”
“Pleasure,” I said with a groan, and Mia laughed.
“I do have something that will be a pleasure,” Mia teased. “After we finish this session, the Saints’ boys should be training on the beach out the front. We could have a drink and watch? Purely on a professional basis ... physio, journalist ...”
Visions of The Russian working out on the beach flooded me.
“What a brilliant idea,” I agreed. “Brilliant.” I closed my eyes and tried not to think about my injury, while Mia worked her wonders.
Thirty minutes later Mia declared us done. I could hardly move; I think I was plastered to the table.
“I’m stuck here,” I moaned and Mia laughed, helping me up.
“Do you want to shower?” she asked.
“No I’m good, thanks. Really appreciate it, Mia, especially on short notice.”
“Happy to do it. I’ll just go wash my hands and then we can watch the boys suffer ... um, I mean, work out,” she said, with a smile and a glance at the clock.
I pulled my shorts and top back on, and, grabbing my bag, slipped out some cash to give her. She walked in seeing me holding it.
“Don’t worry about it,” she said, graciously, “I’m happy to do it.”
I knew she didn’t need the money, but I insisted on paying her.
“I won’t feel like I can ask you for more physio in the future if you don’t let me pay,” I said, and slipped the dollars under her desk paper weight near the door. “Besides, the club reimburses me, so don’t give it a second thought.”
“Thank you, I’ll send you a receipt if you can message me your email address,” she said. “Come on, let’s get a drink.”
I followed her from the white physio room back down the hallway to the front of the house. She entered the kitchen, opened the fridge and offered me a drink.
“I’m having a diet cola, want one?” she asked. “Or I have juice, water, normal cola ...”
“Diet cola is perfect, thanks.”
She handed me two glasses, grabbed the cans of diet cola and stuck a bag of pretzels under her arm.
“There’s something wonderfully decadent about eating and drinking while you watch the boys work out. Kind of like payback for all the times they annoy us,” she said with a grin.
“Well, The Russian and I are fairly new together, so he hasn’t annoyed me too much ... yet.”
“Just wait until they lose a game,” she said, heading to the balcony. Then she remembered I was a professional athlete. “Oh sorry,” Mia’s eyes widened. “You’d know what that’s like of course. I don
’t mean to dismiss the sense of frustration and disappointment, it’s just that they can be unbearably grouchy for days after.”
I sat in a high, white leather chair opposite Mia with our drinks between us as we looked over at the beach. The chairs were deep but high, so we could see over the balcony edge with an uninterrupted view of the sandy beachfront and crashing waves.
“No apology necessary,” I said, “I’ve been known to be a bit unbearable to live with myself on those days!”
We both extended our bare legs to catch some sun and then Lucas drove into the garage below. He looked up to see us and gave us a wave and a surprised look in my direction.
“Good day, gorgeous?” he asked Mia.
“Very good,” Mia said, leaning over the balcony. “I’ve just been doing some physio on my client,” she said, with a nod in my direction.
“How’s the knee?” Lucas asked.
“Getting much better, thanks,” I said.
“Well enjoy watching us suffer,” he said, with a smirk in our direction as he grabbed a workout bag from the trunk of the car and headed straight down to the beach.
“Oh we will,” Mia said just to me, and we both giggled.
Then the Saints’ boys started to arrive. We were so close I could hear the coach and trainers ordering them to get a move on, and my heart rate went up as I spotted the beautiful, tall, dynamic presence of The Russian.
“They hate the beach workout,” Mia said, with a smile. “Did the Suns do it?”
“Once a week,” I said. “It’s agony, but good if you’ve got injuries. Running in the water helps, as you know.”
“Personally, I love it, you must come by again around this time,” she teased. “I’m sure we can find something to do even if you don’t need physio!”
“We would look much more the part if we were sitting here sipping Martinis,” I said.
Mia’s eyes lit up. “Oh yes. We should have a WAGS cocktail party on beach training day.”
“Won’t the coach be cheesed off if we’re sitting up here distracting them?” I said.