Page 24 of Playing for Possession
“I’ll stop talking and let you get some sleep,” he said. “Goodnight.”
I turned onto my side with my back to him. “Goodnight.”
Kieran’s slow, steady breathing punctuated the silence. My foot still tingled where I’d brushed his.We can go for ninety minutes without stopping.What kind of woman would entice Kieran Earnshaw to flirt? Probably some achingly sophisticated Spanish beauty in a beautiful dress and high heels. The type who always had matching underwear and slept in sexy negligees. They’d exchange glances across a classy hotel bar in Madrid. She’d brush her fingers down his arm. He’d lean in and whisper in that sexy voice and they’d go back to his room together.
Wrapped in a cocoon of darkness, my mind filled with the fantasy of Kieran and a beautiful woman. Two strangers together in this bed for completely different reasons:his hands stroking her hips through the silk of her dress, those full lips trailing the bumps on her spine, fingers raking gently through her hair.
Heat radiated from Kieran’s body next to me. I’d only have to move a fraction and I could touch him. What if it was me? What if I was the woman in the fantasy?Kieran’s breath hot against my cheek, his lips travelling across my throat, his warm palms moving gently over my back.A longing unfurled inside of me and with it a sense of liberation, like a bird imprisoned in a cage finally allowed to spread its wings. My heart hammered at the sudden craving.
Tingling heat sparked between my thighs and it was so painful in its intensity, I had to resist the urge to slip my hand lower to relieve the sudden desperate ache. What was wrong with me? This was ridiculous. It had never felt like this with Gerard. Sometimes, when we’d kissed, I’d felt his hardness pushing against me through his trousers. I hadn’t liked it. It made me tense and unsure, but this was different. This was... an uncharted land. I wanted Kieran to touch me, even though he was the last person I should desire.
I squeezed my eyes tight, wishing I had bleach for my brain. This was a professional work trip. I hardly ever had thoughts like this. My battery-operated boyfriend had always served me well enough. At least that was one thing from Lana’s list I could tick off. I had a good vibrator. Although, I’d only used it a handful of times since the injury and it always felt... disconnected. These days my body was a seat of pain and frustration—something I pushed to the limit and hoped like mad wouldn’t break again.
Kieran wasn’t interested in me inthatway, and if I had any sense,Iwouldn’t be interested in him in that way. I did have sense. Just because he was hot and he had that low sexy voice and he could speak Spanish and I’d witnessed him being endearingly kind at one wedding and he was surprisingly funny considering he never smiled, it didn’t mean he was a good prospect. He was grumpy as heck, and he’d had a weird attitude in the gym about Ollie. It was only a small thing, but it had rankled me. Ollie only saw the good in people.
Horrible to think that Ollie was out partying with this group that didn’t respect him. That didn’t have his best interests at heart. The Earnshaws were leading my brother into trouble. This was a physical reaction. Nothing more. I’d be better exploring this feeling with anyone in the world other than Kieran Earnshaw. But maybe it was a sign. Maybe this thrumming excitement was a signal I needed to try and put myself out there.
If I wanted to find someone more suitable to snuggle with in bed, then I could. The first step was to acknowledge that was what I wanted now. It wasn’t just time to rejoin the pitch, but to rejoin the world. It pained me to admit that Dad could be a bit right. Maybe it was about baby steps. A man like Kieran Earnshaw definitely wasn’t baby steps. He was a dangerous leap across an abyss.
There would be other more suitable partners. I couldn’t jump from percussion to lead guitar, but I could bang some more exciting rhythms on my drum. Seizing the day was a bit much after everything I’d been through, but maybe I could reach for the day... carefully... with my fingertips.
Chapter 11
Kieran
Ramirez’s gravelly voice boomed with excitement. “Kieran? You should have told me you were coming to Menorca.”
My ever-enthusiastic old friend smiled at me from the phone screen. I turned down the volume, lest Ramirez’s thunderous voice disturb the smattering of guests in the hotel restaurant. I’d grabbed myself a coffee and left Joanie asleep in the room. It had felt weird creeping about in the dark getting ready this morning while she still slept. Something had shifted between us last night. I’d shared more about myself than I’d intended, but there was something captivating and genuine about the way she’d asked her questions so innocently in that softly whispered voice.
She had a kind of unfiltered sweetness. I’d taken her lack of participation in the PR meeting as aloofness, but now I had the sense it was shyness. Her father might have been loud and overbearing, but Joanie was quiet and reserved. My heart had skipped a beat when she’d slid into the bed next to me. Maybe it was seeing her in pajamas looking so wholesome and effortlessly beautiful, or maybe it was hearing the truth of her childhood and having some of my illusions shattered.
For one guilty moment this morning that I wasn’t proud of, because it made me feel like a creeper, I hadn’t been able to tear my gaze away. Her tawny gold hair had spilled over the pillow, and the tension and worry she often wore had melted away, leaving her face soft and angelic. I’d watched her, even though it had made my chest tight with nerves. As lovely as she looked, this woman wasn’t for me.
“We’ve had a problem with the booking. I need to find a place at short notice. Have you got any recommendations for hotels?”
My old mentor’s face brightened. “You need a place to stay, then you stay at mine.”
Absolutely not. I wouldn’t put him out like that. To the rest of the world, this gray-haired, wiry Brazilian had been one of the greatest players that ever lived. To me, he was the guy who had taken me under his wing at Real Madrid and believed in me. He’d stood by me every time the supporters or press came at me.
“It’s fine, honestly. I’ll find somewhere.”
He chuckled. “No way. I’m away for a couple of days, but I have a guest villa at the back. There’s a lockbox with the key. It’s peaceful and private out there. You’ll have the place to yourself.”
“I’m here for a week at least. I can’t put you out like that.”
He tutted. “Kieran. You never put me out. When I come home, we can catch up. Please don’t insult me by turning down my hospitality.” His voice was kind and indulgent.
I didn’t like to owe favors, but Ramirez was one of the few people in this world I trusted implicitly. If he didn’t want me to stay, he’d be honest. “Are you sure?”
“Of course. Enjoy yourself. Have a dip in the pool. There’s a beautiful seafood place down the road. I’ll text you the details. You’re on vacation.Mi casa es tu casa.”
“I have a friend with me. Is it OK if I ask her to come along?”
“Her?” Ramirez’s eyes sparkled. “Good for you. Of course. Bring your woman with you. The two of you will have the place to yourselves.”
He thought we were together? Easy to see how he’d make that assumption. “It’s not like that. She’s a teammate. We’re here for a commercial. We’ll need two bedrooms.”
He lifted a suggestive eyebrow. “Of course. Two beds. Keeping things professional.”
