by Amy Daws
I turn around and look him straight in the eyes, allowing him to envelop me like a warm cocoon. “At saying all the right things and not freaking out over how messy my life is because of that wonderful little girl.”
Gareth’s brow furrows as he tilts his head and looks at me. “You are who you are because of her, Sloan.” He slides his hands up my arms, soothing me with his touch. “The fact that you fought for her, bled for her, sacrificed for her makes me care about you even more. Knowing everything I know now, there’s no way I can walk away from you two. I want your mess in my life, Sloan.”
With a deep breath, I press my forehead to his chest as my heart threatens to explode out of my body. He wraps his arms around me, cradling me, comforting me, squeezing me to him as I take in his scent, his manliness, his perfect embrace. He’s so much more than I ever imagined a man could be.
And he’s mine.
My body reacts to that last thought with a base drum kick to my libido. I have to physically pull myself off of him and push him away from my body. Licking my lips, I move toward the door. “I think we need to maintain a five foot distance between us until Sophia goes to bed.”
His chest shakes with a laugh. “Why is that exactly?”
“Because when you say things like that, it makes it really hard for me to remember that I have a child who’s awake in the next room.” I run my fingers through my hair and smooth my shirt down nervously. “Speaking of which, let’s go check on that child of mine.”
“You’re the boss,” he replies and follows me into the living room.
As if destiny is playing a funny hand in my life, I find Sophia out cold on the sofa, her mouth hanging wide open as she breathes deeply in and out. I look over at Gareth, who’s smiling so adorably, I think I spontaneously ovulate like Freya did earlier.
I clear my throat and whisper, “I better get her up to bed.”
Walking around the couch, I gently shake Sophia’s shoulder. “Come on, Sopapilla. It’s time for bed.”
“Mummy, nooo,” she croaks, her eyes not even opening as she goes right back to breathing heavily.
I smile up at Gareth. “You wore her out.”
“Let me,” Gareth says, stretching his large frame over the back of the sofa. He hooks one arm under her neck and the other under her legs. With great ease, he picks her up like a baby without so much as a grunt. “Lead the way.”
I purse my lips and feel my head doing a lot of nodding. I’m nodding to hide the swooning. I’m nodding to hide the smiling. I’m nodding to hide the insane butterflies and the overwhelming urge I have to grab my phone and snap a picture of this stunning athlete carrying my daughter up to bed.
On shaky legs, I climb the stairs ahead of him and push open Sophia’s bedroom door. I quickly pull back the covers and stand to watch Gareth lay her in bed, tucking the quilt tightly around her body.
“Is that good?” he asks, looking over his shoulder at me.
My head is tilted as my gaze drifts from his backside to his face. “It’s perfect.”
He huffs out a soft laugh, then pauses to push a strand of hair out of Sophia’s eyes before backing away from her.
I resume mommy mode by flicking on her nightlight and kissing her on the forehead. When I walk out into the hallway, Gareth is leaning on the opposite wall, legs crossed at the ankles and an oh-so sexy smile spread across his face.
“Today was fun.”
I close Sophia’s door and lean against the opposite wall. “More than fun.”
“Really? Do you think she likes me?”
I nod slowly. “I think she loves you.”
Like a dam breaking, we fly off the walls and collide into each other, his lips on mine, our tongues dancing as we fumble our way down the hall toward my bedroom. His hands grope my ass as my fingers tug on his locks. Our motions frantic, desperate, and brutal as we rip at our clothes, unable to stop the momentum of the day that’s resulted in this feral display.
We burst into my bedroom and break apart as I turn to slam the door and click the lock in place. I press my back to the hard wood, my chest heaving with deep breaths.
Gareth’s eyes are dark and ominous as he slowly stalks toward me. “Is this okay?” he asks with a pained breath, his lips red and swollen from my assault. He points to the door. “What if she wakes up?”
“She won’t,” I husk and pull my T-shirt up over my head. My nipples ache inside my bra as I undo the clasp and let the fabric drop to the floor. “She’s a heavy sleeper.”
Gareth’s eyes drink in my breasts that feel swollen and heavy under his heated stare. “Thank fuck for that,” he nearly growls as he tears his own shirt off as well.
In three big strides, he grabs me harshly by my waist and lifts me up so my legs wrap around him. Our lips connect again, dragging over each other’s jaw and neck as we pant, and squeeze, and writhe against one another.
We end up on the bed, the rest of our clothes eliminated as our bodies unite deeper than ever before. It’s a perfect equal power exchange as we roll and switch positions, him on top, then me on top.
When Gareth moves to his side and spoons me from behind, our frenzy turns to a slow, sweet motion. The kind that feels so good, you never want it to end. The kind that feels like you want to live in it forever and ever.
Gareth’s hand wraps around my throat. Not in a tight, dangerous sort of way. It’s a claiming cupping, a heart-melting embrace of trust. I trust him to hold me there, and to love me there, and to make me feel safe and cherished as our bodies gyrate into one another in perfect rhythm.
He releases my neck and slides his hand down between my legs, stoking my orgasm to a breaking point.
“Gareth,” I cry out softly, my hand reaching back and pulling him deeper inside of me. “I’m going to come.”
“Come for me, Sloan,” he rumbles in my ear, his lips tracing a path down my neck and lighting my whole body on fire.
“I’m coming,” I moan out, my voice low but the pressure inside me tensing like a vise.
“I feel you, Treacle. I feel every part of you,” he murmurs into my ear, then releases himself to the sensations as well.
When Gareth comes inside of me, a flash of a baby shoots through my mind and my heart lurches in my chest. An image of Sophia holding a baby sister or brother brings tears to my eyes.
As our breaths slow and our bodies relax, I find myself asking, “Do you want children someday, Gareth?”
Gareth’s arm tightens around me as he sits up and props his head in his hand. I roll onto my back so I can see the look of surprise on his face.
“Where is this coming from?” he asks, his eyes that shade of moody darkness that I love so much.
“I think I want more babies someday,” I admit before I lose my nerve. What I’m feeling in this moment with Gareth is completely new, and I’m owning it because the man whose arms are wrapped around me has taught me to be fearless.
Gareth’s eyes blink down at me for a long pause, and I feel anxiety building in my chest. “I’m sorry to drop that on you, but I want you to know. I’ve never even thought about a sibling for Sophia before now. After she got sick, I never wanted to put myself at risk like that again.”
I reach up and run my fingertips over the scruff on Gareth’s jaw as he continues watching me thoughtfully. “But now I think it was because I just didn’t want another child with the person I was with. Even on our best days, it never felt anywhere close to this.”
Gareth nods, his thoughts clearly drifting as he processes everything I’ve said. He slowly lies back down and stares up at the ceiling, his chest rising and falling with deep, smooth breaths.
As the silence grows, I begin to panic. Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything yet. What if it’s too soon? Am I willing to lose him over this? My voice is weak when I add, “It’s not something you have to answer right now. Just…something to keep in mind, okay?”
He nods, his jaw tight. I roll back over and pull the blanket up over my face. M
y thoughts are screaming chastising words at me. Why did I bring this up now? Why didn’t I keep my mouth shut? What if I’ve ruined everything?
But the fact is, I want more with him. I can’t help myself. Seeing him with Sophia today changed things for me. It’s not only a love feeling I have for him anymore. It’s a sense of family. Like what Vaughn said he felt for Vilma. This feeling in my chest is bigger than love.
Gareth’s deep voice suddenly breaks through my swirling thoughts. “Babies would be good.”
I inhale sharply, holding the breath high and tight in my chest as his words sink in. “Really?” I ask, needing to hear the confirmation so I know I didn’t imagine it.
Gareth shifts to wrap his arm around my waist, pulling me to his chest. “Yes, really. I’d love to have a family with you, Sloan.”
Tears prick the backs of my eyes as I bite my lip and try to contain the emotion swelling in my chest. It’s a rush that I could possibly compare to skydiving.
But better.
So, so much better.
And with that, I drift off to sleep, dreaming of babies, and futures, and…family.
What feels like only moments later, I am woken up by the sound of banging on my bedroom door.
“Mummy, why is your door locked?” Sophia’s muffled voice calls out, ripping me out of my glorious dream.
I sit up with wide eyes and see Gareth slowly coming to right next to me. “Shit!” I exclaim, looking at the clock to see it’s after eight the next morning. “Gareth! Wake up!” I whisper-scream and begin shaking him awake.
Gareth scowls as his eyes flutter open to the sunlight streaming into the room.
“Mummy, what did you say?” Sophia asks through the door.
I clear my throat loudly as Gareth finally realises what’s happening and bolts out of the bed.
I scramble off as well and look everywhere for my clothes. “Nothing, Sopapilla!”
“Oh, then why is your door locked?” she asks again.
“It must be stuck!” I rush over to my closet to grab my robe.
“Oh wait! Freya taught me how to undo the locks with a pen,” Sophia says excitedly. “I’ll be right back to save you, Mummy!”
I hear her little footsteps take off down the hallway and look over at a naked Gareth standing in my bedroom with sleep-tousled hair and holding his T-shirt over his groin.
“Shit! What do you want me to do?” he asks, his eyes wide and adorably freaked-out.
“Get dressed for one!” I shriek, finally finding my purple, silk robe and wrapping it around me.
“Fuck me,” he says, finding his shorts and jumping into them first. “I didn’t plan to sleep here last night.”
“I don’t even remember closing my eyes,” I reply, knotting the belt around my waist and somehow still marvelling over how hot Gareth is shirtless.
He grabs his T-shirt again and asks, “Should I sneak out now while she’s gone?”
“No!” I snap, my eyes swerving to the door. “She’s probably just in her bedroom. She’ll totally catch you.” I thrust my hand into my messy hair and look around for a solution. “You could hide in the bathroom, but the shower door is glass. She’ll see you if she goes in there.”
I turn around, chewing my lip. “Closet, maybe?”
Gareth shrugs. “If you think she won’t look in there.”
“She probably will. She’s always in my freaking closet. Freaking hell. I was going to talk to her today about you not being just my friend, but my boyfriend.”
Gareth’s face contorts slightly at the last word. “Isn’t there something better you can call me? I’ve always hated that word. It sounds childish,” he grumbles, running a hand through his hair.
My eyes fly wide. “This is so not the time to discuss your feelings about a silly word, Gareth. We have to figure out what to do with you before she gets back!”
“Right,” he retorts, then looks behind him. “Window?”
“You know what?” I rush past him and pull back the curtains. “This little trellis here is no different than a ladder really.”
“Obviously the exact same thing,” he deadpans.
“We’re desperate!” I open the window and nearly die when the alarm begins blaring loudly. “Shit! Freaking shit, freak, shit!”
I run over to the panel by my door, quietly cursing Gareth out for having the ridiculous alarm installed in my house in the first place.
Finally, I type in the code. When all goes silent, I hear Sophia shouting from her bedroom in a bored tone. “Mummy, did you set off the alarm again?”
“Yes, Sopapilla! Silly me. It’s off now!” I call back casually, then hurry over to Gareth as he throws his leg over the window frame.
“God, this is something Tanner would do,” he mumbles under his breath as he positions his feet on the trellis. “I’m supposed to be the responsible brother.”
“Yeah, yeah. Get going. I think I hear her coming,” I say as he begins to lower himself.
“It’s a good thing I love you,” he whispers as he takes his first step down.
“Wait!” I stick my head out the window. “Go around to the front of the house and ring the doorbell like you just arrived to pick up your balls or something.”
His brows lift as an amused smile spreads across his face. “Balls. Got it. Anything else, boss?”
I bite my lip and lean my head further out the window. “Kiss.”
With a naughty smirk, he climbs back up one step and plants a chaste kiss on my lips.
“I love you,” I rush out. “Now don’t fall because I’m pretty sure you’re worth a lot of money to that football team of yours.”
I close the window on his chuckles. Then I manage to pull the curtains shut just as Sophia bursts through the door with her eyes wide. “I got it, I got it! I’m going to go wake Freya up to tell her I can do it by myself now!”
“Sophia, wait!” I cry out as she turns to run down the hallway. If she goes outside, she may run into Gareth. “I, um, need a little cuddle first.”
Sophia sighs and shakes her head. “Oh, Mum, you’re so needy sometimes.”
ENGLAND TEAM CAMP IS GRUELLING. Gary Austin is not a manager to keep it light in order to avoid injuries. He requires high-intensity participation throughout the entire camp. Since this isn’t the first time I’ve trained with him, I’m not at all surprised. My brothers, on the other hand, are a different story.
“Christ, this is a sweet, sweet form of hell on earth,” Tanner baulks after his mile-long cooldown run. He yanks down the sweatband around his forehead and groans, “It’s your fault we’re here, Gareth.”
“My fault?” I ask with a laugh and tip my head back to squirt some water into my mouth. “I didn’t pull any favours to get you guys here.”
“Austin makes Dad look like an angel,” Camden huffs as he joins us on the sideline. He bends over to grab his water bottle and takes a swig. “This reminds me of my first camp at Arsenal. It was killer.”
Booker jogs over next, having just finished his goalkeeper session on the far side of the pitch. “Hiya, guys,” he says happily, his voice smooth and completely at ease.
“Why aren’t you puking?” Tanner asks, staring at Booker like he has two heads.
“Why would I be puking?” Booker asks, pulling off his keeper gloves and dabbing the sweat on his temple with his forearm.
“God,” Tanner scoffs. “Keepers have it so easy. What did you guys do over there? Sit down in a circle and visualise stopping the ball?”
“No, we worked on punting,” Booker defends and looks to me for explanation. “We did visualisation this morning.”
I roll my eyes toward Tanner. “Ignore him, Book. Tanner is just dying because the prat spent the last six months eating pancakes like they were his last meal, and he’s out of bloody shape.”
“Fuck off,” Tanner cajoles, dropping down on the ground. “And the joke’s on you because they were completely worth it.”
Hobo is next to join us
. The tall, curly-haired German’s smile is pretty much permanent since he got called to join the camp. His dual citizenship in England and Germany made his presence on the England team a possibility, but it was his stellar season with Man U that earned him the spot.
Hobo looks down at Tanner’s crumpled up posture as he sits on the grass. “Tanner, why do you always appear like a corpse at the end of camp every day?”
“I don’t!” Tanner retorts with a serious furrow to his brow.
“You do. You are out of shape, my friend. I think perhaps you have been too repetitive in your workout routines.” Hobo sits down next to Tanner and uses his hands as he gesticulates what he’s saying. “See, every club and manager is different. I’ve played for so many teams, I am used to drastic changes in workout regimens. This skill makes me a valuable player. Let me show you.”
Hobo rolls into a push-up position and looks over his shoulder at Tanner. “Tell me this. When you make love to your wife, is this how you do it every single time?” Hobo begins pumping his hips into the grass in the missionary position but with comical, fast, jerky motions.
Booker, Camden, and I burst into laughter as Tanner’s face crumples in disgust. “Fuck right off, German!” he bellows, bolting at Hobo and shoving him onto his side. “I can’t even understand a word you’re saying. What language are you speaking?”
“English, but I know four other languages if you prefer I try those instead.”
Tanner blinks stupidly at him. “Why don’t you try the language of shut the hell up?”
Hobo laughs, not the least bit put-off. “I can stay late and do some conditioning with you if you’d like.”
Tanner swerves his eyes to me. “Gareth, control your teammate. I think he’s coming on to me.”
I laugh and shake my head. “He’s your teammate, too, right now. And he has a point. You wouldn’t be hurting so much if you watched your diet,” I state, eyeing him seriously.
Tanner stares up at me. “Gareth, why do you hate fun so much?”
Out of the corner of my eye, I see the Chelsea team making their way onto the pitch. We’ve been passing them the last few days as our camp ends and their daily training begins.