Page 47 of The Player

Con turns to me. “I need to speak to you.”

“And you can,” I say. “Afterwards. I think I’m going to head home. I don’t feel like becoming the lead item on the village gossip sheet. I felt like Carrie at her prom, but luckily for them, I’m not on my period.”

He stares at me as Bill wanders back into the tent. “Okay, go home,” he says. “I’ll finish up as quick as I can. But wait for me. Don’t go anywhere.”

“Where would I go?”

He shrugs. “Who knows, and I’m not taking any chances. Go home and wait for me.”

He grabs me and gives me a hard kiss, and then he’s gone.

I stay still for a second, gaping after him. Then, above me, thunder rumbles and a breeze picks up from nowhere, bringing with it the first scattering of raindrops.

I take the cue and walk quickly back down the lane. The sky has that peculiar yellow light that it gets before a storm where everything seems cast into monochrome. More raindrops come down, bringing with it the sweet scent of petrichor from rain on dry earth, and the trees move and rustle in the increasing wind.

Two couples dart past me, the women’s laughter shrill on the air as they hold their jackets over their heads.

I pick up speed and make my way home to wait for Con.

chapter

nine

The bang comeson my front door sooner than I anticipated. I jerk and stand up, wiping my damp palms on my jeans. I showered and got changed into jeans and an old shirt when I got home as a way of filling up the time so I didn’t go mad while waiting.

The knocking comes again, accompanied by a deafening call of “Frankie” by Con.

I race to the door and throw it open and gasp as the rain-filled wind gusts around me, the spray cool on my skin. Con is standing there, his fist raised to knock again. “You’re soaking,” I exclaim. His clothes are clinging to him, and rivulets of water drip over his face from his hair. Even as I speak, the thunder booms overhead and the rain increases.

“I couldn’t wait,” he says huskily.

“Come in, and we can—” I start to say, but before I can finish my sentence, he steps forward, his big hands seizing my shoulders to keep me still, and then he kisses me. It’s a deep kiss, his tongue twining with mine, and he pushes me back against the door. I grunt as his cold, wet clothes press against me, but rather than shoving him away, I find my hands coming up to clutch at his broad shoulders and pull him into me.

All sense leaves me as well as the warning signs that say if there’s anyone on the street watching, we’re going to be a gossip item for far longer than David’s naked apology. Luckily, Con still has a smidgeon of sense because he pulls back, ignoring my plaintive whine, and pushes me into the house, following me in and slamming the door behind us.

For a few seconds, we stare at each other, the only sounds that of our fast breathing and the boom of the thunder, and then we fly at each other. I pull his head down to me, kissing him furiously as he cups my arse and lifts me. I twine my legs around him, rubbing my cock against the hard length I can feel in his wet jeans, still kissing him frantically.

He moves towards the stairs with me wrapped around him like the ivy that grows up his house, but I pull back and grab his T-shirt.

“Take this off,” I say hoarsely and pull. He releases his hold on my arse one hand at a time to help me get it off, and I sigh in happiness when it’s gone. I throw it somewhere over my shoulder and dimly register a crash behind me, but I dismiss it as I run my hands over his broad chest, rubbing my fingers into the sparse hair that grows there. And all the time we kiss.

When he pulls his face away, I chase it and then blink as he lowers me to the floor. Before I can say anything, he spins me around and leans me over the back of the sofa. I utter a hum of approval that turns into a groan as he kisses the back of my neck. His lips are warm and soft, and his breath makes me shiver.

“You like that?” he says in a calm voice.

I nod and arch into him as he sucks and licks on the back of my neck, sending shudders rippling through my body. One big hand spreads across my chest, thumbing at my nipple beneath the shirt.

“Take it off,” I say throatily, and within seconds, it’s gone and his hand is back rubbing my nipple and scratching it with hisfingernail. The pleasure lights me up inside, and I fit my arse against the length in his jeans and rub.

He pulls away from my neck and groans, pushing himself against me. He feels hard and big, and my arse clenches in emptiness. His hand comes up and grabs my chin, twisting me gently so he can kiss me. Sliding his tongue in, he tangles it with mine before pulling back and suckling gently on it.

I grab his other hand and pull it towards my cock, and he gives an approving grunt before kissing me again. His hand works dexterously at the buttons on my jeans, and within a second, they gape open, and he reaches in and cups my balls. I cry out, the sound thin and tortured in the silent room, and he ruts against my arse, forcing me further into his hand.

“Please,” I say. “Please, Con.”

Obeying my incoherent urging, he gives my balls one last caress and then lowers my briefs and slides his hand down the stiff length of my cock. His grip is perfectly firm, and his sliding movement makes stars burst behind my tightly closed eyelids.

One of my hands clutches the sofa, digging in my nails as the other grips the hand holding my dick. I break away from his mouth to lean forwards, panting and giving the occasional moan.

---