Mandy's He-Man (18 page)

Caitlin had looked absolutely stunning in her wedding gown. It was a long, silk-embossed satin, cream-coloured gown with a plunging neckline, emphasising Caitlin’s full bust before the shimmering material, as if hugging her body, cascaded to the ground, continuing at the back in a short, flowing train. Her beautiful auburn hair had hung loose around her shoulders. Caitlin Walters—soon to become James—had truly looked like a goddess. The three men—Brodie as the groom, and JT and Riley as the groomsmen—had also looked incredibly handsome in their matching suits. Mandy had, of course, silently voted JT the most handsome!

Mandy was now reminded of the adoration and unwavering love that had shone from JT’s eyes that day, as he had watched only her during the wedding ceremony. That familiar look was once again apparent in JT’s features, but this time the recipient of his gaze was not her, and Mandy could not have been happier. This time, the reason for JT’s unabashed emotion was nestled securely in his big hands.

Mandy smiled contentedly, full of love and hope for the future. She enjoyed watching the myriad of emotions that chased across JT’s face as he gazed lovingly down at their tiny, dark-haired newborn daughter, Elaina Rose Thomson. The most beautiful and precious design Mandy had ever created.

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League of Love: Caitlin’s Hero

Donna Gallagher

Excerpt

Chapter One

Caitlin normally swam laps at the same time as Riley had his squad training. If she had to be up early to drive him to the pool, she figured she might as well do something productive with her time instead of sitting around waiting. Caitlin never put on weight. She knew she was lucky in that regard, because some girls were always trying one new fad diet after another, but she did like to feel fit and healthy. Caitlin had a hearty appetite and was almost embarrassed by the amount of food she needed to keep her body fuelled.

She was neither short nor tall and her long legs, average hips and small waist were all in proportion. The problem with swimming—although she loved being in the water—was that wearing a swimsuit made it easier for people to notice her D-cup breasts.

Firm and round, they appeared to stick out rudely and she thought they looked out of place on her body. Caitlin and her breasts had not got along since puberty, when they’d seemed to grow to an enormous size almost overnight. Her enjoyment of participating in sports had taken a beating at the cruel taunts from other teens. At one point, Caitlin had actually considered breast reduction surgery.

That, of course, would not be possible—at least for the foreseeable future. Not after all that had happened recently.

Caitlin fingered the bracelet on her wrist lovingly, and pushed those sad memories from her mind. She always revelled in the solitude of swimming laps once she got started. It calmed her to listen to herself breathe in and out while her arms and legs sliced through the water, stroke after stroke. Just being around water soothed Caitlin.

The other bonus of early morning swimming was that there was no need to worry about the harsh Australian sun burning her very pale skin. Giving herself one last pep talk about the water being warm once she got wet, she headed out to the swim deck, trying, as usual, to push her mop of hair under her pink swimming cap.

As Caitlin did some stretches in preparation, she noticed the players from the local rugby league team on the other side of the fifty-metre pool. Most of the players were walking up and back in a lane, laughing and pushing each other in mock fights. All except for
him.

Caitlin had observed the giant of a man before. In fact, on many occasions she had actually sought him out with her eyes.
Why wouldn’t you?
she thought to herself. He was gorgeous—such a perfect specimen. Caitlin had watched him stretching his large body, which rippled with the mass of well-defined muscle that made up his impressive physique. Caitlin had also watched him standing, sitting, walking, running and swimming, all in such a skimpy pair of swimmers that not much was left to the imagination, and Caitlin had found she had a good imagination when it came to
him.

On more than one occasion she had dreamt of him, waking to find her body sweaty, the ache in her core unbearable and moisture coating her panties. Caitlin had begun touching herself to try to ease that unfamiliar longing—quietly, discreetly, her strokes reluctant at first. The thought of masturbation had been disturbing, somehow wrong.

But not wrong enough to stop. On those occasions, she would inch her fingers towards that throbbing, hot place. She’d slide her hand down the front of her panties, past the layers of curls that covered her folds.

It was always the same. She’d visualise his broad shoulders and washboard abs and her breath would start to come in little puffs and pants, her nipples pulling tight. Caitlin always felt them forming hard button shapes even before she’d let her free hand touch them. She would touch and rub her sensitive nipples as she imagined his face—that sexy, yet sombre-looking face.

There was something about him that drove her to this point. Nothing and no-one else had ever caused Caitlin to caress her own body in such a way. This uncontrollable need was new, coinciding with her awareness of his existence. She’d slip her finger in between her folds. They were always slick and warm, and she’d begin to move that finger in a circular motion. Tiny sparks of something indescribable would start to form beneath her finger, her body striving towards some place, some ending to fulfil her ache. As she focused on the memory of his deep voice, which she had overheard when he’d spoken to his teammates, she’d imagine him talking to her, touching her. She’d pretend it was his fingers plucking at her nipples and his hand creating so much havoc within her body.

Finally, knowing she was nearing that peak that caused her so much bliss, Caitlin would find her clitoris, the place that held the release of that pleasure spike, and she’d rub furiously at it. Push and circle, hard and fast, assaulting her own body until finally the gratification came, a wave of pleasure and relief washing over her slick, wet body, leaving her breathless, boneless, sated.

Caitlin both loved and hated to remember those times she lost control. She’d heard that masturbation was a normal human need, but it didn’t make her feel any less uncomfortable with her own actions.

Seeing him in such a state of near nakedness didn’t help. Shaking off her silly, girly fantasies, her stomach fluttering in response to her wilful thoughts, Caitlin stepped onto the block and did a graceful racing dive into the water. For the first few laps she tried to find her rhythm, reprimanding herself for her body’s response to the man by chanting a mantra over and over in her head. “I don’t have time for men, I don’t have time for dating, I don’t have time for men, I don’t have time for dating…”

Previous forays into the dating scene hadn’t filled her with much confidence. These so-called dates were nothing but a bunch of octopus-limbed disappointments who seemed to think buying her a drink, or dinner, gave them the right to grope her at will. Just the thought had Caitlin angrily pounding her arms into the water.

* * * *

Brodie James was tired. Not sleepy, but that bone-deep, weary kind of tiredness that made you feel as if you were dragging yourself through life. He was feeling all of his thirty years at the early morning recovery session.

Yesterday’s game had been a hard-fought grind, ending disappointingly in a loss for Brodie’s Sydney Jets. Brodie’s battle-fatigued body reminded him painfully of every tackle and knock it had taken. It wasn’t just the game, though. Brodie could not pinpoint what it was that was making him feel so old and jaded. He was living the dream. This was the life he had worked so hard for. He was playing rugby league at the top level.

Brodie had lived and breathed rugby league from the time he could hold a footy. He was good—some even said the best. Brodie didn’t go much for that sort of talk, though. He was successful, sure. His thirteen years at the top level were testimony enough. He had captained his club, state and country, and earned a good living doing what he loved. What more could he want?

Maybe that was exactly the issue. What more did he, Broderick Patrick James, want from life?

Just thinking about it gave Brodie chills, and that wasn’t because he was waist deep in a swimming pool. These recovery sessions were just a part of the routine that was Brodie’s life. He had to contend not only with his aching muscles, but with the antics of his younger teammates as well. Full of the exuberance of youth, these pups were good at riding him about his age. They respected him, though, despite their good-humoured cheek, and they were keen to learn all they could from him.

As his teammates laughed and horsed around, Brodie’s attention was drawn elsewhere. She was here again. Brodie had seen her swimming laps at the pool many times. Something about the way she walked, or stood, or swam caught his attention. Maybe it was how her elegant arms seemed to effortlessly slice through the water.

He had watched, fascinated by the way that, no matter how hard she tried, she never completely managed to corral that red mass of curls under her swim cap. There were tendrils always haphazardly poking out. He wanted to tuck them away for her just so he could feel their texture. He wondered what her hair would feel like up against his chest—a bad move on his part. His body had an immediate reaction to the sexy thought, forming an ill-timed lump in the front of his tiny swimming briefs.

Brodie was shocked at this physical response. He had been with his fair share of women. Not lately, though. Lately he just hadn’t really bothered. He could never tell, these days, if the many offers were made due to his high profile.

That thought reminded him of the big mistake—his now failed marriage. At first, Lila had seemed to be every man’s dream. She’d said all the right things about wanting a family and the normal trimmings. It wasn’t long, though, before Brodie had realised that what Lila said and what she actually meant were two entirely different things. Lila had wanted everything she could get. The memory of her was enough to remove that tight feeling in his trunks.

Sighing, Brodie took one last look in the direction of his redhead’s swimming form as her arm lifted and curled back towards the water’s surface. A glimpse of shiny metal caught his eye as it flew from her wrist to plop right into the water next to her. It looked to Brodie like a gold bracelet. She went on swimming, unaware of what had just happened. Without another thought, he ducked under the lane rope and swam towards the spot, diving to the depths of the pool in search of the lost piece of jewellery.

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About the Author

Sydney-born Donna Gallagher decided at an early age that life needed be tackled head on. Leaving home at fifteen, she supported herself through her teen years. In her twenties she married a professional sportsman, her love of sport—especially rugby league—probably overriding her good sense.

The seven-year marriage was an adventure. There were the emotional ups and downs of having a husband with a public profile in a sometimes glamorous but always high-pressure field. There were always interesting characters to meet and observe, and even the opportunity to live for a time in the UK.

Eventually Donna returned home a single woman, but she never lost her passion for watching sport, as well as the people in and around it.

Now happily re-married and with three sons, Donna loves coffee mornings with her female friends, sorting through problems from the personal to the international. But she’s on even footing with the keenest man when it comes to watching and talking rugby league.

Donna considers herself something of a black sheep in a family of high achievers. Her brother has a doctorate in mathematics and her sister is a well-known Australian sports journalist.

An avid reader, especially of romance, Donna finally found she couldn’t stop the characters residing in her imagination from spilling onto paper. Naturally, rugby league is the backdrop to her spicy tales of hunky heroes and spunky heroines overcoming adversity to eventually find true love.

Email:
[email protected]

Donna loves to hear from readers. You can find her contact information, website and author biography at
http://www.total-e-bound.com
.

Also by Donna Gallagher

League of Love: Caitlin’s Hero

Total-E-Bound Publishing