Page 178 of The Penalty

“You were absolutely brilliant, you know.” I reached for her hand. Her soft palm nestled perfectly in mine. “Charlotte would be so proud of you.”

“I know.” A wistful smile touched her lips when she placed her hand over her heart. “I still feel her sometimes. It’s like a peaceful warmth.” Astute emerald eyes studied me. “Are you really retiring at the end of the season?”

A year ago, walking away from football was the furthest thought from my mind. Hell, six months ago it wasn’t even a possibility. But that was before I pulled off the road to help what I’d thought was a stranded motorist.

“I am.” I rested my fingers on her lips. “Let me explain.” Inhaling slow, I spoke. “For the majority of my life, football filled a need. It still does to a certain extent. When Bennet threatened to take my livelihood away from me all those years ago, it opened my eyes. Nobody will dictate how I end my career. I love this sport. I love competing. There is nothing quite like the roar of a crowd and the adoration of millions.”

I paused when Victoria knelt between my legs and reclined her forearm on my thigh. The movement was so graceful and natural and perfect. Finding my next breath, let alone my train of thought, was a struggle.

She’d done this only once before. I will marry this woman. The exact same thought I’d had at the time echoed through me.

I gazed into her eyes. “All of that pales in comparison to how I feel when I’m with you.”

She sat up straight. “Don’t tell me you’re retiring because of me. That’s ridiculous and I won’t allow it.”

I arched an eyebrow. “That’s presumptuous.”

“Really?” The fiery edge to her tone clued me in on what she was doing. “What about my policy? I only date British goalkeepers with dirty mouths and tattoos.”

“I’m breaking it.”

“I see.” A sly grin pulled at her glossy lips. “Does that mean I have to go find another goalkeeper? How about a striker?”

Lowering my tone to the one that drives her mad, I leaned closer. “There are no other goalkeepers or strikers or anyone you classify as the product.” I fisted her hair. “There’s only me, and you’re mine. Do I make myself clear?”

She cast her eyes down, parting her lips to suck in a breath. When she looked up at me again through her lashes, her pupils were so dilated I could barely see any green.

“Maybe.”

Dark flames erupted into a ball of white hot desire in my chest.

“We can do this one of two ways.” A raspy moan passed her lips when I pulled on her hair. “I can finish telling you what I have to say with my cock stuffed down your throat.” The dusting of pink spreading across her cheeks was so fucking hot. “Or you can kneel at my feet like the dirty princess you are, listen to me talk while I stroke myself, and then clean the cum off me with your Ivy League mouth.”

“And if I can’t choose?”

I loosened my hold on her. “Then I’ll choose for us.” Standing up, I pulled her to her feet and tossed her over my shoulder.

“Xavier,” she squealed with a giggle. “Put me down.”

“Nope.” My palm landed on her ass in a hard smack as I carried her to the bedroom. “I need to teach you a lesson about interrupting a heartfelt conversation to be cheeky with me.”

A smile curved my mouth when she laughed and whacked my ass like a drum. “What kind of lesson?”

I placed her on the edge of the bed, admiring her flushed skin and sparkling eyes.

“Undress.”

She complied, peeling off her clothes. Soft red waves of hair fell over her shoulders, framing the most beautiful curves known to man.

Fuck, she’s gorgeous.

Rubbing my thumb on my lip, I grinned. “Don’t move.”

I went to my closet and dug out the Legends jersey from the photoshoot.

“Put this on,” I commanded, tossing it to her.

She ran her hand over my name. “I bet you look hot in this.”

---