Overtime (Playing The Field Book 1)

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Overtime (Playing The Field Book 1) Page 16

by Rebecca Barber


  Grinding down against him, I searched for the friction I desperately needed.

  “I need…”

  “What do you need? Elise, say it and it’s yours,” Luca growled against my neck before he nipped at my ear lobe.

  “I need…”

  His hands were massaging my boobs and tweaking my nipples. I was so fucking close. I just needed…

  “I need…”

  “Tell me.”

  Pressing down, I felt Luca’s hot, hard cock pulsating beneath me and it was all it took. I splintered into a million trillion pieces. Throwing my head back, I screamed out, praying to every deity known to man.

  I should’ve been embarrassed.

  I know I should’ve been.

  I was still wearing my pants and I’d just come so hard I couldn’t see straight. When I finally floated back to earth, I flopped against Luca, my lips landing against the pulse point on his neck where it was beating frantically.

  When I lifted my sleepy, satisfied eyes to meet Luca’s, his were clouded with lust. Knowing I was responsible for it was incredibly powerful.

  Climbing out of Luca’s lap, I sank to my knees. Staring up at him, I winked. “My turn.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five – Luca

  Sitting in yet another boring hotel room on a Friday night, I realised just how over this I was. We’d flown in this afternoon, preparing for yet another game which we were going into as the underdogs, and that was putting it politely. At this stage, the newspapers were pretty much calling us witches. We’d been playing like crap, and I hated the fact there was a very good chance I was going to go out as a loser. It pissed me off. I’d worked too hard for too long to walk off the field next week, embarrassed.

  I just couldn’t put my finger on what was wrong with us. Individually, we were a bunch of seriously talented guys. Together though, we were in worse shape than those ten-year-old kids I’d watched running around fearlessly on the field the other day. Maybe that was our problem. We’d grown fearful instead of fearless. Fearful of the media labelling us as a laughingstock. Fearful our contract wouldn’t be renewed. Fearful we’d let somebody down. Or worse, let each other down. We’d stopped taking risks and maybe, just maybe, right now was the time for risks.

  My phone vibrated on the bedside table where it was plugged in.

  Mum: Lunch Sunday

  It wasn’t exactly an invitation.

  Luca: Sorry, Mum, can’t. Got a sponsor thing in Melbourne, not back until Monday

  Even with a good excuse, I still felt incredibly guilty. Maybe it was the years and years of missed dinners and birthday parties weighing on my mind.

  Mum: Fine. Dinner Tuesday

  Luca: Okay

  Climbing up off the bed, I stripped and headed for the shower. There was no way I was I was going to get any sleep tonight unless I silenced all the voices in my head reminding me of all the what ifs in my life.

  After placing a room service order, I ate quickly and headed to bed. For hours, I laid there tossing and turning, wishing sleep would drag me under, but it didn’t.

  It was almost three, and I was sitting, bleary-eyed, leaning against the wall watching some shitty eighties movie when I picked up my phone and text Elise. I hadn’t seen her since yesterday morning when I’d woken up to find her wrapped around me like a vine. She was warm and soft and smelt so good. I hadn’t wanted to let her out of my bed. I was addicted and I was man enough to admit it.

  Luca: You should be here

  It was whiny and pathetic, and the last thing in the world I expected was a response, but I felt instantly calmer.

  Elise: Wish I was too

  Elise: Get some sleep, Luca. You’ve got a game tomorrow

  Elise: Or today

  Elise: Night xoxo

  As much as I wanted to write back, I had no idea what to say. Actually, that’s not entirely true. I knew what I wanted to say, but there was no way I was about to say it over text. Not when I didn’t think Elise was ready to hear it anyway. Silencing my phone, I shucked off my boxers and crawled into bed.

  I woke up to a banging on my door. Or maybe it was on my head. I had the headache from hell, and I felt like I’d only been asleep for twenty minutes.

  “You getting your arse out of bed, Conti?”

  I grumbled a reply as I shuffled into the bathroom. Splashing water on my face, I stared at the bags under my eyes, wishing I was ten years younger. I looked like an old man. I guess I was. Shaking off those depressing thoughts, I got dressed and headed downstairs to join my teammates for breakfast before we headed to the stadium.

  Determined to remember everything I could about this, I snuck down the tunnel early, still hidden from view but staring out at the empty field. It smelt like hot chips and beer. The noise of the crowd was getting louder as the stands slowly filled up. I was going to miss this. I wouldn’t miss the bland hotel rooms, or the nights spent alone in a strange city, or the crappy room service, but this; the roar of the crowd and the way my adrenaline spiked as I bounced on the balls of my feet before we ran out onto the field to the cheers of awaiting fans, I’d miss that.

  When Coach appeared beside me, he clamped his hand down on my shoulder. “You sure you’re ready to give all this up?” he asked.

  “Yeah. I’m ready.”

  “I knew you’d say that. I was hoping you wouldn’t, but I knew you would.” He chuckled before leaving me there in the shadows by myself.

  A few more minutes being the nostalgic sucker I’d become, and then I’d head back into the locker room to get ready. I still had warmups to do and to change into my uniform. Not to mention, the strapping my ankle was depending on just to get me through the game.

  Time flew and before I realised it, we were being ushered onto the field. The crowd roared from the stands when we were introduced, and I felt a burst of pride. Glancing around, the purple of the jerseys, hats, banners, and scarves made the stadium look like a lavender field. And we weren’t even the home team.

  The referee blew the whistle and the game was on.

  It was tough.

  It was brutal.

  It was dirty.

  By half time we were down two players due to injury, and the other team already had one player red carded and sitting the rest of the match out. I don’t know what bug had crawled up their arse, but they were being wankers about it. I’d spent years playing all around the world and not one game had been as underhanded and sly as this one. The sledging was epically harsh. At one point I’d had to reprimand one of my own teammates for sinking to their level and giving back as good as he was getting. Not that I could blame him. Some of the shit coming out of their mouths was absolutely disgusting.

  The second half wasn’t much better. My ribs were sore from the constant elbowing I was copping, and I couldn’t even feel my little toe. It’d been stepped on so many times I was surprised it was still attached. It wasn’t until I was tripped and sent flying onto my face while the ball was on the other side of the field that I finally snapped. I was beyond livid. But that wasn’t the problem. My knee seized and I couldn’t run. I could barely walk.

  Over the years I’d been sidelined with all sorts of injuries. Everyone spent at least some time riding the pine wrapped in ice, but this was different. I don’t know if it was the pain shooting up my leg or the fury bubbling through my veins that had me trying to convince them to let me hobble back onto the field and give the smug little shit who’d nailed me what he deserved. Bloody trainers and doctors wrapping me in ice were refusing to let me move though.

  Thankfully, the game ended in a pathetic nil–all draw and everyone was flat. Besides licking our wounds, we hadn’t even gotten the win. Had we at least won the game it would’ve been a whole different story. Been worth it. But no, we couldn’t even do that. Man, I was over losing. And if anyone tried to tell me a draw was as good as a win, they might just get their teeth rattled the way I was feeling now.

  After a quick shower, we got our gear and everyone load
ed onto the bus. Everyone except me and Marianne, the PR Nazi.

  “You’re not joining us?” Harry asked, stopping on the step and causing everyone to bump into each other.

  “Nah. Got a sponsor thing tomorrow. Flying back Monday,” I explained.

  It didn’t surprise me they didn’t know. I didn’t flout the fact that I had sponsorship deals and endorsements. Many of the guys bustling onto the bus would give their left nut for a shoe deal or even a razor commercial, and I couldn’t blame them. It was definitely one of the perks of this job. One I wasn’t about to bitch and moan about. I wasn’t embarrassed about having them. Some of the companies I was associated with, I’d been with for years, and they were good to me. They’d ridden the highs and lows along with me and we’d both made some decent money out of our relationship. But even that was drawing to a close. Sighing heavily, I couldn’t help but wonder if I’d even be able to recognise my own life once this was all done. Walking away from the game was one thing, but to me it wasn’t just a game. It was my life. The only life I’d known for as long as I could remember. What would happen when it was no longer part of me? What would I be like? Who would I be? I guess I was about to find out.

  After agreeing to meet Marianne for dinner, I jumped into the back of an Uber and headed to the hotel. As much as I’d protested and told the doctors and other busy bodies my knee was fine, my leg was aching. I was dying to get inside and sit down. Ignoring the chatter around me, I wound my way through the mass of people with suitcases trying to check in before I jumped in the elevator.

  My phone rang as soon as the green lights flickered on the lock to my room. Ignoring it, I headed into the room, dumped my bag, and stepped into the bathroom and stripped off. Sitting down on the closed toilet seat, I carefully peeled off my sweatpants and had a look at my angry knee. Nothing looked out of place. It was pale, but that more than likely had something to do with the ice that’d been taped to it for the past half an hour. Bending it back and forth, I listened to the cracking and creaking with every movement. Unfortunately, there was nothing unusual about that either. That was simply old age catching up with me and kicking my arse.

  Standing up, I put all my weight on it and squinted as the pain shot down my leg again. A couple of days rest and it’d be fine. It had to be. Nothing was going to stop me taking my place on the field next week. I refused to be one of those retirees who missed their final game or had their career ended by injury. I was choosing to retire. This was my call. My decision. And I’d be fucked if I let it take me out any other way than the way I wanted.

  Yanking my shirt over my head, I stared in the mirror. Looking past the bags under my eyes or the stubble covering my jaw, I turned and checked out my ribs. They were covered in red angry welts. I wasn’t surprised, just pissed. They were going to hurt like a bitch tomorrow. My phone rang again, interrupting me. When it fell silent, I stepped into the shower and let the hot water pound down on me. I wished it would work some kind of magic and help me avoid the agony I knew was coming.

  When the water ran cold, I stepped out and wrapped a towel around my waist. Kicking my sweats into the corner, I stumbled out of the bathroom and pulled on my sleep pants before downing a couple of painkillers and swallowing. Digging through my bag, I found my phone before lying down gingerly on the bed.

  Missed calls from Mum and my sisters. No surprise there.

  Listening to the voicemail from Mum first, I heard the worry in her voice. I hated being responsible for putting it there. I needed to put her worries at ease.

  “Luca! What happened?”

  “Mum, breathe. I’m fine. Just a knock. Nothing life-threatening,” I promised.

  It was a good thing she didn’t watch some of the games I’d played overseas. Some of those were rough as fuck and more than once I’d come off bleeding and bruised. As much as I loved my mother, she still hadn’t accepted that I wasn’t a little boy anymore. Part of me was convinced if she had her way, she would’ve been sitting on the bench at the Olympics cutting up oranges for half time, just like she had when I was seven and playing in the local leagues.

  It took me another fifteen minutes and a promise to pick her up a box of the chocolates she loved before I could get her off the phone. Flicking a message to my sisters letting them know I was fine, I laid back amongst the mountain of pillows and closed my eyes. A nap would solve everything.

  Chapter Twenty-Six – Elise

  I met Jax and Dana for brunch at our favourite hole in the wall café. They did the best smashed avocado with poached eggs in town and their coffee was to die for. While we were sitting there catching up, I told them about the bullshit Corey had been pulling lately. Swapping with Trish for the carnival was the final straw for Dana, who wanted to go hunt him down and junk-punch him. Dana was completely oblivious to the fact that she was way too nice of a person to ever actually hurt anyone, but that wasn’t deterring her. When I told them Luca had shown up, I swear Jax’s eyes glazed over. His man crush was bordering on creepy.

  “So, let me get this straight,” Dana started. Knowing this wasn’t going to be a quick conversation, I flagged down the waiter and ordered another round of coffees. We were going to need it. “‘Creepy Corey’, as he’s now been named, showed up on the bus and took Trish’s spot. Then Luca randomly appears at the carnival bringing you coffee and looking all sorts of sexy. Corey tries some bullshit, and you, Miss polite McCoy, proceed to put Creepy in his place?”

  “Yeah, kinda.”

  “What did I miss?”

  “Um…”

  “Nah uh. Out with it. We’re here for the juicy details not just the PG rated ones,” Jax confirmed, tucking his chair in farther under the table and propping his elbows on the table. He looked like a five-year-old waiting on his bedtime story.

  With the butterflies in my stomach beginning to take flight as I recalled the way Luca had looked all sexy and confident, I couldn’t help the blush creeping up my neck and staining my cheeks.

  “Oh my god! This is gonna be so good. She’s blushing,” Dana exclaimed, clapping her hands together excitedly.

  Behind her, the ladies at the table turned and looked in my direction. Obviously they’d overheard some of our conversation and were now so deeply invested they were waiting for the next instalment.

  “You should’ve seen him with the kids. He was so good with them. Patient. Kind. He knelt down to their height. He showed them some tricks he could do, but then he stayed there and taught them how to do them too. He was just so…so…”

  “Perfect?” Dana offered.

  “Dreamy?” Jax tossed out.

  “Yeah. I mean the coffee and the kiss he delivered were amazing, but the way he was with those kids…”

  “Made your ovaries explode?”

  “So hard,” I admitted. There was no point denying it. I was one hundred percent completely and utterly infatuated with Luca Conti. It was terrifying and invigorating all at the same time. He was everything I could possibly ever want all wrapped up in packaging which had my knees knocking and left my panties drenched.

  “He invited me to come over that night,” I admitted, dropping my voice to a whisper.

  “Well of course he did,” Dana declared like it was a given.

  Jax, on the other hand, had never been afraid of dishing out some tough love. “If you didn’t get your bony arse over there and ride him like the cowgirl I know you are, then I’m disowning you.”

  “Jax!”

  “What? If you won’t then I sure as shit will,” Jax stated so matter-of-factly, the water I’d been sipping came out my nose.

  “Would you keep your voice down?” I hissed.

  “What? Why should you care if everyone knows you’re getting it good and hard from Luca-Anaconda-Conti?”

  “What the fuck? Really? Luca-Anaconda-Conti? Did you just make that up?” I asked, trying to remember why I was still friends with Jax.

  “Honey, I’ve seen those photos of him in grey sweatpants. That man is p
acking some serious artillery in his boxers. The only question is, does he know what to do with it?”

  “He’s fine,” I answered through gritted teeth.

  “Fine? Fine? Fuck me. Fine is not good, Elise. I want to know that he can work that thing like it’s a magical disco stick that leaves you seeing stars. Each. And. Every. Single. Time.”

  “Jax! We’re in public!” I reminded him. Sometimes I think he forgot where he was. Especially when he had dick on his mind, which, admittedly, was pretty much all the time.

  “Who gives a flying fuck? I’m sure Karen over there sipping her decaf soy latte and eating her egg-white-only omelette is dying to know if Luca’s trouser snake can make you scream. And more importantly, cream?”

  There was only one way I was getting out of this conversation. As much as I didn’t want to, it was my only choice. “Fine. You wanna know if Luca’s carting around an anaconda or a cocktail frankfurter in his trunks? Fine. He’s hung. He knows exactly what to do with that monster and what’s even better; he’s a triple threat. Talented tongue, fingers and cock. He has me begging and screaming his name each and every time. He’s long, fat and delicious,” I declared, smacking my lips, hoping to end this.

  “Well fuck me,” Jax huffed, flopping back in his seat.

  “No thanks, you’re not my type,” Dana added, clapping him on his back. “Right, what happened when you went over there?”

  I freaking loved the shit out of Dana. She knew when to push and when to back off. And right now, she was doing the one thing I needed the most. Moving the interrogation along. I told them about the toothbrush drama and the fact my pink toothbrush now had a home next to Luca’s in his ensuite and how he was with Phoebe. I couldn’t wait to see him as a father. He was going to make the best dad.

  “And then he rubbed your feet?”

  “He rubbed my feet,” I confirmed as Dana’s mouth gaped.

  “Could he get any more perfect? Like seriously? Are you sure he’s not related to the Hemsworths?” Dana asked, and I couldn’t help but think she was right.

 

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