"Olivier, nice to meet you. Great game." I recognized him from his hulking stature in the net. But in person he wasn't so foreboding. He was tall, he had at least four inches on Killian's 6'2 frame, but he seemed like a gentle giant. Hazel eyes that were warm and inviting but not sexual, curly brown hair cut close to his scalp. He couldn't be menacing even if he tried, especially not in that horrific orange goalie's shirt.
"Leah, a pleasure. I have heard so much about you." His French accent was pleasant as it hit my ears and he slid a sly smile Killian's way. Did he know we’re um...involved?
I hadn't known Killian to have any friends, not even among his teammates, but he must think highly of Olivier if he was introducing me. Or maybe it was just a business thing. Yeah, had to be a professional thing.
The players were quickly ushered to the podiums where they gave a recap of their win, and then we were back in the car, racing for Central London.
"Will you just drop me at my apartment?" I watched London fly by as us the car zoomed over streets. It was so beautiful at night. I'd been able to explore only a couple of other areas after my tourism trip with Killian, but I was still dying to dive into the uncharted hidden gems.
"Actually...I thought maybe you'd like to come over." Killian's accent was low, his eyes unmoving from the window on his side.
It was Valentine's Day. And he wanted me to come over. He had never invited me back to his house again...not for anything more than business or strategy planning. Did I want to go? Yes, of course. But, what did this mean? I liked being with him, I did. I'd started to crack his brutish exterior, and I liked the man he was. But it hadn't even been a year since I ended things with Taylor, and I'd been with him for a huge chunk of my life.
"Yes or no, Leah? Don't make this into some big, girlish to do. I like spending time with you, believe it or not. And we'll be alone. I have a bed."
He'd interrupted my thoughts, going right to the root of the problem. I liked how he knew that I was internally panicking. And I appreciated his candor, so different from the boys I'd dealt with. He was a man, and swung his influence around accordingly.
"Yes. I'd like that." My heart flipped over in my chest as I thought about going back to his place.
My hands kept fidgeting as we entered the elevator in his beautiful lobby, my stomach dropping as the elevator rose. Killian must have felt my energy shift, because he advanced on me, not harshly but in a gentle way like a large wave landing delicately on the sand.
"Stop thinking." He whispered, darting his tongue out to lick my earlobe. My body melted, but my brain did turn off.
"How is it you know exactly what to do when it comes to my body?" I sighed as the doors opened to his floor, Killian still cornering me with his hands on my hips.
"You should hear the noises you make. A little sigh when I lick the right spot. A low growl when I nibble on your pressure points. A throaty gasp the first time my fingers spread open that pretty pussy. And my favorite? The wail you let loose as you begin to convulse and fully give over to your orgasm."
My body was one big live wire when he finished descriptions. If he touched me I think I would go up in flames or combust or implode. Or all three at once.
He slipped one finger under the hem of my shirt, stroking the hot flesh of my hip and I groaned. Killian chuckled, taking my hand and bypassing everything in the apartment, taking me straight for where I knew led to the bedroom.
I tried not to think about what had happened here last time. We still had yet to talk about those articles and my past. I knew Killian had given me the benefit of the doubt in his mind, why else would we be doing what we've been doing for the past few weeks? But we also had delved deeper into the subject. I didn't want to rehash it, and I knew he was avoiding it altogether. We'd hurt each other, no matter if this was just a hook up or not. We had actually become friendly, working as professionals publicly and if we decided to bring up Kit Chaser-gate, it might get ugly again.
Turning my mind back to the gorgeous Adonis in front of me, I palmed him through his post-game suit pants.
"Christ, Leah..." He trailed off, dropping his hands from my body as I worked his belt and zipper. I hadn't done this yet, and it was Valentine's Day, everyone deserved a treat.
Killian unbuttoned his shirt with shaky fingers, frantically pulling at the material. I chuckled as I sank to my knees on the carpet in front of his bed. I relished in the power I had over him, feeling in control in this rare moment.
Killian's shirt flew behind him, his abs in full view at my eye level. The eight pack he sported felt like it had been carved out of the wall in a diamond mine. He was sporting a nasty bruise on the right side of his ribs from where one of the Bromfield players had cleated him. I don't know why it turned me on, but it did, thinking about how rugged and rough he looked.
I inched his pants down, the agony in my movements affecting him as I heard him breathing hard out of his nose only. That beautiful cock sprang free, nearly hitting me in the face he was so stiff and erect.
I grabbed him, testing a few strokes as I watched the milky pre-cum drip onto my fist. Then Killian reached down, pushing my hand away as he grabbed himself.
"Open." His voice was so strained I could tell he was trying not to come just by the sight of me on my knees.
I refused, pinning my lips together and mocking him. “I wanted the control."
"Open now, Leah, or I will shoot my load all over your face and you can kiss the multiple orgasms I was going to give you goodbye."
Heat swamped my belly, making me visibly shudder as the hair on the back of my neck stood up. I opened my mouth wide, watching as he moved closer and finally brushed past my lips.
He went slowly, moving his grip to my hair and gently fucking my mouth as I made low sucking noises.
"Fuck, your mouth is better than I even imagined." He stopped, pulling out. I could see in his eyes, now the shade of storm clouds about to burst, that he was trying hard to keep it together.
"Undress for me and get on your back."
I followed his instructions, trying my hardest to move seductively. As soon as I scooted back onto the mattress, Killian was pressing a knee into it.
We connected as soon as my back hit the bed, him pushing into me. It didn't matter that he hadn't even touched me up to that point, I was wet enough that I was seconds away from tumbling over that euphoric edge.
Killian leaned over me, his large hands tangled in my hair. His eyes were drugged, drowsy with lust, and I could smell the fresh grass of the pitch all over his skin even though he was freshly showered. I dug my fingers into his back, sticking them between the large, built tendons under his skin.
His lips brushed my ear. "I'm going to go so slow that by the third time you come, you'll be shaking like a leaf under me. You won't be able to speak. The world will cease to exist, because your body will be in a different dimension."
And that's exactly what he did to me.
* * *
We laid in a sweaty, gasping heap on top of Killian's bed. My fingers and toes were so numb that I thought they might have fallen off. The only reason I knew I still had a leg was because it was thrown over Killian's, his hand gently stroking my slick skin.
The air was filled with our breathing, which slowly calmed down as we came out of our sex high. We just laid together, basking in the delicious afterglow of the marathon session we'd just had.
But I could still feel the tension between us. Even after all of these weeks. We’d never discussed the things that had come out about me. I didn’t know if Killian just didn’t care, if he didn’t consider what we were doing as something more than just fucking each other’s brains out.
I needed to explain myself. To defend myself somehow, because I could still feel the bitterness in his tone when he spoke to me. And maybe I felt like I’d rolled over too quickly, let him get underneath my skin. He needed to hear what I’d gone through, even if it meant only protecting myself for the heartbreak I could feel coming
with what we were doing.
"When I was 17, I started dating Taylor Mason. I'm sure you're familiar with his picture by now. American football god, basically going to be drafted in the first round in April. We were together for five years. I'd basically been planning our future. A future HE had mapped out for us. Everything I had done, had lived for was to advance Taylor in his career. Until he decided that he'd rather fuck NFL groupies than put a ring on my finger."
Killian cringed next to me in the dark, nothing but our breathy pants and the tension filling the air. His breathing stalled as he listened. He pulled me further into his chest, not saying anything, so I continued on. "I know you don't think those things about me anymore, or at least I hope you don't, but the things the media are saying aren't true. I have been with one boy in my entire life. Until I came here, I'd only slept with one boy my entire life. So when you accused me of the things you did, being a slut, a jersey chaser, those things are so far from the truth it’s ridiculous. I’m not that kind of girl, Killian. And I never stood up to them, or to you, but I am now. I’m sleeping with you because I want to, it makes me feel good and empowered. And the sex is amazing. But you need to realize that this isn’t my normal. I’m a strong woman, or I’m trying to become one. Taylor stripped so much of my identity from me, and that was partly my fault. But just because I’m involved with you, doesn’t mean I’m going to ever let that happen again. I’m my own person, I make my own decisions, and that doesn’t give you the opening to shame me about any of it.”
My cheeks flushed, realizing I might just have let a little too much information go, and that I’d gone full tirade on him.
"I am only the second guy you've ever slept with?" Killian's mouth fell open, and I rolled my eyes, thinking that of course that was the one thing he’d picked up on. “But I know, Leah. I know you’re not that type of person. I shouldn’t have said those things in the first place. I can be an asshole at the best of times, that’s just my nature. I’m a prickly guy. But I know enough about you to know that none of that was true. And it was wrong of me to stand by not saying anything to counteract it.”
I grinned, happy in his apology. "Thank you."
A few beats of silence passed. "Do you...still love him?"
I couldn't be sure why he was asking me that, but it felt like it held a lot of meaning in this context. Here we were, the first time in a bed together, the first time cuddling post-sex.
“When I first arrived here, I would have told you yes. He was my first love, my first everything. I’d been so invested in our life that I’d forgotten how to be by myself. But to be honest, a part of me wasn't that broken up about him dumping me. I think I was just more ashamed of myself when it all shook out. For five years I let Taylor think for me, dress me, parade me around. I had no true idea of myself, no passions or goals besides what he wanted me to be. No, I’m not in love with him anymore, but I do miss the life we had. The future we talked about having. And yet, it was like coming here saved me."
I paused, unsure if I should say the next part. But I went on. "You saved me. You know exactly who you are, exactly how you want to live your life. That kind of belief in yourself takes so much guts. And you've taught me that. So thank you."
I could feel his heart beating triple time beneath the palm I'd laid on his chest. And then his stomach growled in the loudest gurgle I've ever heard, interrupting the serene moment we had been having.
We both broke into a fit of laughter.
"I haven't eaten since before the game. What do you say to a proper English breakfast for dinner?"
17
Killian
Happy. The definition of it is the feeling of or showing of pleasure or contentment. Glee, joy, delight. These were all words to describe the state of happiness.
And for the first time in a very, very long time, they were words to describe me.
For so long I'd mourned, I'd wallowed in self-pity and grief and sadness. I'd drawn the shades on my life, vowing to never feel sunny or bright. I vowed to live like my bride, dead to the world. When she went I'd wanted so badly to go with her, that I'd ended my own life, more or less, as well. Giving my life over to football.
I didn't think I'd ever fall in love again. I didn't think I'd want children, or a family. If you would have asked me a month ago where I saw myself in ten years, I would have been alone, probably trying and failing miserably to maintain a football career that wasn't possible at that age.
But then Leah came along. And she'd changed, well, just about bloody everything.
I don't know what had possessed me to invite her up on Valentine's Day. Blimey, I hated that stupid Hallmark holiday. But, for once I hadn't wanted to be alone. And not just that, I craved being with her.
I hadn't set up anything romantic, hadn't bought her flowers or chocolates. I couldn't even promise her anything, I didn't know if I was capable of it. But something had shifted that night, when she’d opened up about her past.
Lying there, feeling her lush, sweaty flesh after one of the most intense moments of passion in my life, my heart had broken a little for her. I knew when I'd met her that she was timid. I'd had no idea that her bloody jackass, worthless piece of shit ex-boyfriend had broken her. He'd stolen away the best things about Leah, the things that had emerged in her the last few months and made her irresistible to me.
And as the weeks passed, we only became more entangled with each other. We worked closely together on my events and schedule, stealing moments and glances when no one was looking. I took her to the National Theatre to see a production of Frankenstein, where she was wiping the tears from her cheeks by the end of the performance.
It was such a new thing for me, seeing a woman be so open and up front with her emotions. British women were somewhat cold and no nonsense, Eve had been up until our lives fell apart. But Leah was so in-tune with her feelings, expressing them earnestly. It might have been her youth, which at times made me feel like an old man. But at other moments she was wise and mature beyond her years.
We were keeping our relationship hidden, not that we'd even talked about what this was yet. It was like if we didn't discuss what we were doing or if we didn’t go public with it, there was no issue. There was no challenge here. Still, I saw the dismay in her beautiful eyes each time I had to ignore her when we were on display for the media. I felt the gloom radiating off of her when I would talk or dance with other women at appearances or parties. I had to do it, keep up appearances, I'd explained to her. But part of me felt like if I didn't give myself all the way over to her, if I didn't show her my whole heart, than I wouldn't get hurt again.
Because I'd gone all in with Eve, and I'd been destroyed. I already felt, and god rest my late wife's soul, a more intense passion, a bigger piece of myself was falling for Leah than I ever had with anyone else.
But I let myself fall with Leah, even if I gave myself a safety net, because I just couldn't not fall. She had become such a vital part of my life, in such a short time. I'd never believed in finding that one, the mysterious person fate is supposed to bring you. And it was scary to think that I might be starting to put stock in that notion.
My love for Eve had been different. I’d seen our relationship through rose colored glasses. It was the first or puppy kind of love. We were so young, so sweet and naive. It had been real, there was no doubt about that, but we hadn’t been versed in life’s hardships yet. Sure, we had both had hard times growing up, but nothing so horrible, so undoable that the tragedy would have been branded into us for a lifetime. We were so bloody happy, until we weren’t. Our love couldn’t weather the storm life had dealt us.
But with Leah, things were different. We were both already jaded, already familiar with what it meant to be thoroughly heartbroken. If I were in love with her, which I wasn’t acknowledging yet, it was a mature kind of love. An educated, smart kind of love. Leah and I had our own identities, but we could also be happy together. I knew I could still feel that all-consuming love for her lik
e I’d felt for Eve, but it would be wiser. It would be something that could withstand any obstacle.
London began to bloom with spring's finger erasing the depressing winter weather. The city's parks came to life, vibrant with flowers and plants spanning the spectrum of the rainbow. Residents came out of hibernation, donning their spring apparel and flooding the city streets once more. Nightlife picked up and boat races overtook the ponds and river.
I donned the mustache and hat several times as March started, taking Leah to the exhibit at Kensington Palace, a crew event on the Thames. I took her to Camden Market where we ate different delicacies from all corners of the world until we were too stuffed to stand.
I learned about her family and her life back home. Her mama, pa and two sisters, Delilah and Katie. She was the oldest, choosing to stay close to home at the University of Oklahoma. And to follow Taylor, although I'd gleaned that on my own. She loved her local library and tried to spend at least one day a week among the stacks smelling the old books.
So I took her to The London Library in St. James's Square, where she spent hours thumbing through books. I thought I would have to get her jaw rewired after the way it was hanging off her face.
Today, I'd surprised her and taken her to The Chocolate Festival on the Southbank, one of my favorite events every year that closed out the month of March.
We strolled in nothing but T-shirts and jeans, the weather unseasonably warm for late March, sipping small pints of chocolate beer.
"If you take me to anymore of these outdoor eating events, I think you'll be rolling me back onto the plane in a few months." She sighed, wiping some chocolate sauce off her mouth after finishing the rest of her chocolate churro.
It was the first mention she'd made about going back to the States. The thought honestly hadn't crossed my mind the entire time we'd known each other, sleeping together, falling for each other. But now it sat like an anvil in my gut, so I pushed it away, burying it in the box of other things that we didn't discuss.
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