Sidelined: A Sports Romance Page 9

  He took my breath away. I had old dance videos and piles of audition DVDs, but that wasn’t what he was talking about.

  “You really want to see me dance?”

  “Yeah, I bet you’re beautiful out there.”

  And I knew he didn’t mean the same way as when I was a Goddess, shaking my ass for everyone to see.

  “I’ll dance for you.”

  I was already choreographing something in my head to show him.

  “I have to go pick up the film for tonight. But I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  “Okay.”

  “Good night, Natalia.”

  “Good night.”

  I hung up and stared at the phone. I had no idea this was going to happen, but I felt as if we had officially waltzed right into a relationship.

  Twenty-One

  Sam

  The drive to Austin wasn’t bad. It gave me ninety minutes to crank up the music and drive. Texas roads were wide and the speed limit let me go almost as fast as I wanted.

  There were a lot of things to think about other than the lyrics blaring from my speakers. Two nights with this woman and I had decided to break my first rule of the season. But it seemed better this way. Since Sunday night, I’d had incredible practices all week. I hadn’t dropped a single ball or missed any tackles. Even Wes commented on my concentration.

  With Natalia in my life, I wasn’t as distracted. I wasn’t thinking about where she could be, or what she was doing. All I had to do was pick up the damn phone and call her. It was as if being with her had calmed everything down again. She was some kind of drug for me. I got my focus back. I was the player I was before I met her. Only this time, I had her in my life.

  Natalia had texted her address to me. She lived in an apartment not far from where we met over a month ago. I recognized the neighborhood when I pulled into her parking garage.

  I knocked on the shabby door and waited for her to answer.

  I held up a bouquet of flowers. “These are for you.”

  She reached on her tiptoes to kiss me, but stopped and pulled me inside. She took the flowers from me. “Sorry, I don’t want anyone to see you.”

  I didn’t care. I grabbed her by the waist and pulled her into my arms, crushing her with an earth-shattering kiss.

  She trembled and I felt the satisfaction rumble through me. “I like your place.” I looked around. It had the definite markings of a girl. There were pastels and black and white photos of dancers on the wall.

  “Thanks, I can give you the quick tour.” She smiled. “This, of course, is the kitchen where I spend almost no time. This is the living room where I spend a little time.” I followed her. “This is the bedroom where I sleep.” Everything was white and clean.

  “And what’s this, the guestroom?” I pushed open the door beside her room and stared.

  Natalia was behind me. “No, it’s my studio.” She adjusted the dimmer switch and a chandelier hanging from the ceiling illuminated the space.

  There was an entire wall of mirrors and a barre that ran the length of one wall.

  “It didn’t come like this, did it?”

  She laughed. “No, of course not. I had permission to have the mirrors and the barre installed for my practice.”

  Other than an old record player and a crate of records on the far side, the room was empty. The floors were smooth and soft.

  “You dance in here?”

  “I used to. I haven’t tried much since I was injured. But I do a lot of stretching, and it’s a great workout room.”

  “What kind of music do you play on that thing?” I pointed to the turntable.

  “Mostly classical.” She walked to the stack of albums in the crate and flipped through them and retrieved one from the center.

  “Where did you get it?” I streamed all my music. I didn’t have a CD player.

  “It was a gift from my ballet teacher when I left Paris.” She sounded sad. “She gave me all her records and the turntable.” She was smiling, but it was at a distant memory, not at me. “Sometimes I come in here and listen. I remember the dances.”

  “Like what?” I asked. I had this need to connect with her. To bring her back to where we were. I wanted her to leave those Paris memories and remember I was standing in front of her.

  “Stuff like this.” She placed the vinyl record on the player and moved the arm for the music to begin. I heard a violin and a piano, but all I saw was her. Her long, graceful legs. The beauty of her breasts. The fact that there were two of her in this room with those mirrors. My cock twitched.

  I reached for the dimmer, lowering the lights on the shimmering chandelier.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “I want you to take your clothes off.” I was ready to strip her bare myself if she didn’t start shedding the tank top and shorts.

  But she lifted her arms, pulling her shirt overhead, and with a quick snap, her bra skidded over her arms. Her fingers landed on her hips and she shrugged the shorts over her legs and stepped away from the small pile of clothes.

  I reached for her, pulling her into my arms with a hungry kiss. She moaned as my tongue slipped in her mouth. I moved back, yanking my shirt off and kicking my pants out of the way.

  We stood in front of each other naked. I led her to the barre and spun her to face our reflection. I kissed the side of her neck as my hands traveled over her breasts. I stopped to roll her nipple between my fingers as my other hand coasted over her stomach and plunged between her legs.

  “Oh, God.” She leaned into my chest, jutting her hips forward so I could slide between her slit.

  “Watch,” I told her. “Watch all of it. Watch when you come. Watch me fuck you right here.”

  I felt the heat between her legs as my fingers massaged her clit. “Yes,” she breathed. Her legs buckled slightly as I spread her opening.

  I’d never been so fucking turned on in my life. I nudged my cock against her ass. As she rocked into my fingers, she lifted on her toes, then lowered to her bare feet. I felt her sliding her clit against my fingertips as she moved up and down, then slowly, her hips eased backward with each rise and fall until her arms were stretched forward on the barre and her soaking wet entrance was mine to take.

  I pushed my cock enough to stretch over her.

  “Ohh,” she whimpered.

  “Nice position,” I growled over her back, admiring her curves. She wiggled closer and I knew she wanted this as badly as I did.

  I rubbed the head over her clit, coating her juices over me. She felt so warm I wanted to get lost inside her. I wanted to fill her. I wanted to fuck her for the rest of the night as if it was our first night together.

  I looked at her in the mirror. Her tits dangled in front and I reached for them, plucking each one until she whimpered.

  “Watch me fuck you, Natalia.”

  Her head jerked up as I positioned myself and drove inside her with a shudder that ripped through my body.

  We both groaned at the intensity of the angle. She held the barre while I pumped in and out of her from behind. Watching her eyes, her nipples, her slice of paradise, dripping wet from wanting me.

  I looked down. My hands gripped her just above her round ass. I could see every time my shaft withdrew, then was lost inside her again. I fucking loved it. I could watch this all night.

  Nothing had felt like this. Nothing was this fucking hot. Her hands slapped the mirror as I reared back and thrust with sudden force, pushing her forward.

  “Sam, it’s so intense. I have to come. Please let me. Please.”

  I wanted to give her everything she wanted. And if she wanted to come on my dick, she was going to come hard.

  I reached in front of her and began to flick over her clit with my fingers, feeling her squeeze my cock with powerful strength.

  “Oh yes,” she screamed. “Yes, like that.” Her hips moved wildly and I knew we had both lost control.

  “You’re mine, Natalia. I’m not stopping. You’re min
e.”

  I was going to come inside her and I couldn’t stop it. There was no time to grab a condom or pull out. I wasn’t going to do that. I needed to fill her and make her mine. I buried myself with a final thrust as we came together, gasping for air, clinging for balance. I watched in the mirror as her eyes burned into mine.

  I unleashed everything I had inside her, feeling my belly relax as the orgasm pumped through my limbs. I slid my dick from her and kissed her back, which was damp with sweat.

  “You are so fucking amazing.” I twirled her into my arms, crushing her lips against mine.

  “I’ve never done that,” she whispered. “But God I’ve wanted to.”

  I laughed. “We can do that as many times as you want.”

  Her palms locked around my neck. “Welcome back to Austin.” She reached up to kiss me and I took her lips.

  Twenty-Two

  Natalia

  “The shower is ready,” I called out to the living room. Sam was on the phone. He looked annoyed. I hadn’t seen that kind of scowl on his face before.

  “Sorry,” I mouthed. I pointed to the bathroom door so he would know I was going to jump in.

  I couldn’t help but pause when I heard him say, “Don’t ever call me again. I mean it.” I strained my ears in his direction. It was none of my business, but I’d never heard him sound so angry before.

  “I told you. I’m not going to do it. I don’t care what happened or why,” he seethed.

  I felt guilty for listening much longer. Maybe it was a reporter begging for a story about him. I had a feeling it was more personal than that. Maybe it was the anger in his tone, or the way he was trying to shield the call from me. I tiptoed away and headed for the bathroom, trying to focus on what we had shared.

  I’d had a dozen fantasies about the mirrors in my studio. They mostly came to me in the middle of the night when I was asleep, and would rouse me with wicked thirst for something I knew I couldn’t have. Until now.

  Watching Sam’s eyes as our bodies aligned. As he moved inside me. It sent a shiver through my body. I was still tingling. It was erotic. It was the hottest thing I’d ever done in my life. Each time we were together topped the last time. Not that it was a contest. I didn’t want to have to out-best our sex life. But holy hell, it was amazing.

  I stepped into the shower and let the water wash over me. We hadn’t had the safe sex discussion either, but as I soaped up, I was reminded we hadn’t used a condom. I was on birth control, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t sleeping with an AFA player.

  When was the right time to have this discussion? Probably before I let him come inside me. I turned the water up, making the steam rise over the glass door.

  Sam walked in. “Sorry, I had to take that.”

  “Everything okay?” I asked.

  “I don’t want to talk about it. Actually, I want to forget that call ever happened,” he grumbled.

  I didn’t know what to say. His face was drawn in a frustrated expression. Whoever was on the end of that call had upset him.

  “You sure? I’m a really good listener,” I offered.

  He opened the door and stepped in next to me. His palms slid to the side of my face and he kissed me. “I’m sure. I don’t want to talk about it. Let’s pretend I never took that call.” He went back to kissing me.

  I could get lost in this. His kiss. His touch. The way he looked at me. It was everything out of a beautiful ballet. Although the leading men weren’t anything like Sam. I was used to lithe and limber. Not strong and powerful. He could encompass me and make me feel safe and secure. And I was sure if he gave it a try, he could lift me overhead easily and I could dive into a poisson, one of my favorite holds with a partner. I smiled thinking about it.

  “What’s that look?” he asked.

  “Just thinking about you dancing.”

  He chuckled. “My best dance is in the end zone.”

  “When should we order dinner?” I asked.

  The water skimmed over his shoulders and I watched the droplets roll over the muscles in his biceps.

  “After the shower sex.” He grinned. His mouth moved over mine as my back touched the cool tile.

  His erection pressed hard against my leg and I gasped. Was this really happening again? His hands lifted me up gently as I wrapped myself around his waist. The steam billowed around us and I felt the heat between us as he slid me over him until finally he pushed inside. I let out a moan as he filled me.

  He rested one hand over my shoulder on the tile while the other clutched my lower back. And when I least expected it, he started to sway. I smiled at him, feeling our bodies move in opposite directions.

  “I like that.” It was as if he was rotating inside me, touching everything within.

  “You feel fucking incredible. Every time.” He nipped at my neck.

  Part of me wondered if this was always what sex was like for him, and the other part knew it couldn’t be. It had never felt like this. Never felt like someone wanted me so desperately, or that I needed them just as much. I held on while he brought us to the brink of ecstasy. This time he pushed in and out with slow strokes. But strokes that tortured me with pleasure.

  “Sam, oh, Sam.” It was happening slower than it ever had. The coiling in my belly started to expand and float through my limbs, but not with the fire and intensity I was used to with him. It was exquisite how everything slowed to his rhythm.

  I kissed him as my body began to shake and jolt. My legs felt like jelly and my core was burning with the blistering orgasm.

  He pressed his forehead against mine. “I love it when you do that.”

  I licked my lips from the shower water. I touched the corners of his face as the trickles of water beaded over the sharp lines of his jaw.

  Then I saw the lust in his eyes. His speed picked up and a look of determination crossed his gorgeous face. I held up while he pumped in and out of me. His chest heaved rapidly and his hips thrust forward.

  “Fuck, Natalia.” He sank into me again and his body stiffened as he wrapped both arms around me, shaking as his came inside.

  Slowly, he lowered me to the ground. I looked into his eyes, already missing our bodies being connected.

  “You said something about dinner?” he joked.

  “Funny.” I grabbed a bottle of body wash for him.

  “I’m starving. The practice. The drive. The sex.”

  “Poor thing.” I lathered my hands and began rubbing them over his chest. His shoulders were wide and I needed two hands to wash one arm.

  He was a lot to handle.

  We decided on ordering Italian and sat in the living room once the driver dropped off our dinner. I lit a few candles and opened a bottle of wine. I poured a glass for each of us.

  “I think we should toast to something, don’t you?”

  Sam held the glass. “To more nights in your studio.” He winked.

  I tapped my glass to his.

  “I want to hear more about your audition. When is it?” he asked.

  “For the ballet?” I picked up my fork.

  “Yes. When do you start preparing? Are you ready?”

  “It’s not until March. And I hope that by January my leg will be strong enough that I can complete my routine.” I took a bite of salad.

  “What did you injure? Maybe I could help.” He waggled his eyebrows and I didn’t know whether to take him seriously or not.

  “It’s my hamstring. It’s not bad enough that I can’t jump around for a few hours cheering. It’s actually gotten much stronger since last year. But I’m worried it won’t support me on my pointe shoes.”

  “And those are?”

  “You know the shoes ballerinas wear? The ones with the flat toes so we can stand up on our feet. It’s a lot of pressure on the foot, but it takes a tremendous amount of strength in the supporting leg. I’m afraid to try.” I couldn’t believe I had told him that. I hadn’t shared it with anyone.

  “I think I know what shoes you’re
talking about. Why haven’t you tried it yet if you’re out dancing for the Warriors every week? Your legs seem in good shape to me.”

  I was tempted to poke him with my fork. “Because if I put on those shoes and I’m not ready then what was all this for?” I took a deep breath. “Why have I joined a dance squad? Why did I try to get my strength back if it was all going to be for nothing?”

  “Hey, you don’t know that.” He put his plate on the coffee table. “You need to put the shoes on and see where you are. That’s the only way you can plan the rest of your rehab.”

  I blinked. “You’re talking like you know how I’m going to get back on stage.”

  “I don’t know shit about ballet, but I know injuries and I know hamstrings. Do you have a trainer? Are you working with a therapist to get you where you need to be?”

  “I can’t afford it right now.” I didn’t want to admit how broke I was. The Warriors didn’t exactly pay a lot and Austin was expensive.

  “Then let me help you. I can do that. I know the best physical therapists in the country. I can find someone to get you ready.”

  “That’s football. This is ballet,” I stated.

  “Hamstrings are hamstrings.” He picked up his wine glass and took a big gulp. “If you need help, let me help you.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t know. It’s not like we’re a…”

  “A couple?”

  “What is this? What are we?” The questions popped out before I could pull them back in.

  “Do we have to label it?”

  “No, I guess not.” I reached for my glass.

  “I’m not saying it’s not something. It’s just… Damn it,” he huffed. “Why can’t we see what happens?”

  “We can. We definitely can.”

  “This is everything I said I wouldn’t do. And I’m everything you said you can’t do. But I’m here in Austin and I’m thinking that it’s going to suck when I have to drive back to San Antonio tomorrow.”

  “You are?” I felt little slivers of happiness dancing in my stomach.