Authors: Donna Gallagher
He hadn’t heard her follow him, had been surprised when she’d appeared almost out of thin air. The memory of her, so nervous, yet bold in her attempt at seducing him, was one Rook could not forget, right alongside the guilt and regret he still felt for the way he had treated her that night. She had removed her top and stood bare-breasted in front of him. It had been the most beautiful sight he had ever seen. When her hands had connected with his skin, the jolts of desire had seemed to burn a path over his body and straight to his heart. He’d truly liked the girl, had for a long time, and it wasn’t the threats to his career that had made Rook walk away. No—it was that he’d known that he was unworthy of her.
She’d deserved more.
Rook had tried to avoid being alone in her company, more to protect her from him really—not that he had always achieved that goal. He remembered one night in particular, the night of Trevor Hughes’ fundraiser. He had sat with her long into the night, chatting about life, about movies she liked, the music she listened too, mesmerised by her natural beauty. Her aura had been that of a sweet, likeable young lady, a girl he’d really felt very attracted to, but he had also realised that she was too naïve and inexperienced for him.
Given the clear threats to keep his distance from her, Rookie had come to the conclusion that he would have been taking advantage. Phillipa had a life ahead of her, and from what her father had bragged, a life that was going to be very successful. Rook didn’t want to be the uneducated football player from a single-parent home who was holding her back. So, trying not to waver in his resolve, he had used every ounce of self-discipline he could muster while ignoring the look of pain on her beautiful face. As her eyes had filled with tears at his rejection, Rook had just fled from Phillipa, that night she had come to him with her heart on her sleeve in the darkness of her family’s garden.
It was amazing to Rook that he had felt the exact same reaction to her touch again, so many years later.
“How could I have not recognised her? So she changed her hair, cut those blonde locks and coloured them black. Hadn’t I secretly looked into those incredible blue eyes enough to remember them? What a fuck-up! Does she hate me that much, after all this time?” he chastised his stupidity aloud.
“Well, Princess Phillipa certainly isn’t innocent anymore.” Rook lifted his beer in salute at his own words as he remembered the things they had done the previous Saturday night.
He decided wisely, after finishing the sixth beer, that he would just get over it, but that she sure as hell wouldn’t be touching him with her hot, deceitful little hands. He wasn’t planning on getting injured. He drunkenly told himself that he would just steer clear of her sexy self and let her look after the other guys.
An image of her hands massaging the masculine bodies of his teammates flashed like a sword through Rook’s mind. The image did not make him feel any better. No, not any better at all.
So after Rook had drunk the last beer from his fridge, as he contemplated the idea of going down to his club and raiding the well-stocked bar, he fell into a drunken slumber. He dreamt of the life he had imagined when he had discovered he had not used a condom—the life that contained Phillipa with a blonde-haired toddler nestled on her hip. Her blue eyes twinkled and the smile on her face showed the love he assumed was for him. But then the dream changed and another man appeared as the recipient of Phillipa’s love, while Rook faded away into oblivion.
Chapter Nine
When Pippa arrived home Cassie was sitting on the couch reading, looking relaxed and contained, dressed in her usual attire of jeans and long-sleeved T-shirt with her blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail. Pippa couldn’t help but note the differences between them now. At one time, they had commonly been mistaken for sisters. It wasn’t just the change in Pippa’s hair colour—it was more. Cassie had this air of calm surrounding her these days, an aura of confidence, probably honed to perfection due to her role as a teacher. The thought of standing in front of a roomful of angsty teens was enough to make Pippa break out in a sweat. Cassie had once confided in her that teenagers were like sharks—one sniff of blood in the water, or more literally fear or indecision, and they attacked unmercifully.
Pippa, in contrast to Cassie’s calm demeanour, thought she probably looked like she had been through the washer twice. She collapsed down next to her friend, exhausted from her emotional day, and let out a long, drawn-out sigh. Cassie, taking one look at her, shook her head.
“Day didn’t go so well then, I’m guessing by the look of you, Pip.”
“It was horrible, Cass,” Pippa replied mournfully, kicking off her shoes and tucking her legs up underneath her body. She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to hold the emotions and hurt at bay, to keep them from tearing her in two.
“How ’bout I make a pot of chamomile tea? I think we could both use a cup. Then you can tell me all about your day. In the meantime, Pip, sit back and take a few moments, try and relax. I’ll be right back,” Cassie soothed. Then she headed off into the kitchen, leaving Pippa to her own thoughts—thoughts she didn’t really want to deal with, especially not on her own.
Shutting her eyes and letting her head fall against the back of the couch, Pippa listened to the sounds Cassie was making in the kitchen, familiar sounds. She heard the rumble of the kettle boiling and the chink of crockery as Cassie made the tea. Pippa hoped that if she concentrated on those sounds around her, her thoughts would refrain from making her relive the drama of the day.
“Here you go, Pip.” Cassie handed Pippa a steaming cup of the aromatic tea and sat down beside her.
Pippa sipped at her tea for a few moments, but it did little to help her mood. Finally, she spoke.
“You should have seen the confusion in Rook’s eyes when he recognised me and then realised who I really was. His whole expression changed. He looked hurt, Cassie. I nearly blurted out the whole sordid truth to Brodie James right there and then.”
“You didn’t though, honey, did you?” Cassie’s serious tone momentarily distracted Pippa from her tale of woe.
“No, I didn’t, but I don’t feel good about it. You should have heard the glowing endorsement Brodie gave me. I feel like such a fraud. I’ve let everyone down. “
Pippa was fighting back tears as she spoke and trying to ignore the ache in her chest. Occasionally, she rubbed absentmindedly at that painful spot over her heart with her closed fist.
“Did Rook say anything?” Cassie quietly asked. “Did he talk to Brodie, give you up?”
“Before I could talk to him, maybe apologise or something, he was gone. One minute he was there and then the next…” Tears started to roll down Pippa’s cheeks.
Cassie wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulders.
“Don’t do this to yourself, Pip, regret and ‘what
ifs’ aren’t going to change what happened. Move on. Eating yourself up won’t help. What’s done is done, sweetie. You really need to concentrate on your career now… Your future,” Cassie said.
“I just feel so guilty, Cassie, and then to top it all off I had this weird conversation with Brodie about Rook being my teenage crush. It was so humiliating.”
“Let it go… You have wanted to work for the Jets for a long time, and now you have that chance. Grab it—whatever happens with Rook will happen. Just let him have some time to get over the shock. Look, sweetie, he’s a man. His ego took a bit of a hit. But he got his end in. He will get over it, probably just as soon as he finds another conquest.”
“Do you really think so, Cass?” Pippa asked, trying to garner strength from her best friend’s words.
“Yeah, hon, I do. Just give it some time.”
But just as quickly as the hope began to surface that Rook might forgive her, the idea of him with another woman broke Pippa’s heart all over again.
“Maybe…” Pippa sounded less than confident even to her own ears as she sipped at the cooling tea. “I’ll try, Cass. In fact, I have to start pretty soon. JT invited me to a get-together at his place. He said it would be a good chance for me to mingle with some of the team, let them get used to having me around. And on the positive, it will be great to catch up with Caitlin and Mandy again.”
Pippa remembered how the two senior members of the Jets squad her father had coached had fallen hard for their respective wives. Both men had met their other halves a matter of weeks apart from one another, and to top it off, both women had lived in the same apartment building.
Pippa, only fifteen at the time, had loved the romantic—but quite public—wedding proposal JT had made to Mandy. Most people had thought that JT was too tough or macho to make such a romantic gesture. He had proven to be very much in love with his woman, and had retired at the end of that season so as not to be away from his new family.
Pippa had spent a lot of time hanging out with Caitlin’s brother, Riley. Caitlin had been the sole carer for Riley back then, as their parents had been tragically killed in a car accident. Riley had been quite a lot of fun, for an eleven-year-old boy. The fact that Rookie had seemed to have a soft spot for Riley and had spent time with him had also worked well for Pippa. It would be great to see the now grown-up Riley again.
Maybe Cassie was right—she should just move on, make the most of her opportunities, get on with her life. Forget Mitch Harris.
Easier said than done. Like I haven’t already tried that one!
“Hey, can I be your plus-one to the party? Wouldn’t mind getting up close and personal with some prime Aussie beefcake, and I don’t work for the Jets,” Cassie said, wiggling her eyebrows at Pippa.
Pippa was very thankful to have such a supportive friend. Everything Cassie had said made sense.
“Sure you can, Cass. Hey, I need all the moral support I can get. And thanks for the pep talk.”
“Don’t even mention it, Pip, that’s what we do for each other. I’ve got your back, partner.” Cassie spoke the last words in a deeper voice, trying to imitate a Western gunslinger. It was such a bad impersonation that Pippa could not deny the smile that forced its way to her lips.
* * * *
After the day she’d had and the emotional replay of it to Cassie, Pippa was wiped out. She could not face the thought of food and so—after making excuses to Cassie about being tired and needing a good night’s sleep to face the next day, and after a quick shower—she took herself off to bed.
She tried to not obsess over Rook, but every time Pip closed her eyes it was his face she saw. First the face that had hovered over her during their mating, those silver eyes hungry for her, which was quickly replaced by today’s Rook—the look of horror on his face and in those eyes as she had been introduced to the team and he’d realised her deceit. So it was not surprising that he filled her dreams.
As was the usual case, Pippa’s dreams began back in the garden of her childhood home, the place where she’d discovered what true humiliation felt like. Although in Pip’s dreams, the story sometimes changed.
“Rookie, it’s me, Phillipa. Where are you?” she whispered in the darkness, until Rookie’s form stepped out from the shadows.
“I’m over here, beautiful. I’ve been waiting for you all night.”
Pippa raced to him and threw her arms around his neck, and Rookie lifted her up and swung her around, like in some cheesy movie scene. “Kiss me,” he said. His lips closed in on hers and the feeling was so good, so unbelievably sweet that Pippa melted in his arms.
The dreams always started this way…
Rookie’s hands roamed over Pippa’s body, warmth radiating from his touch, leaving her skin burning with desire. She always wanted more. He cradled her breast, rubbed his palm over her now distended, sensitive nipple. “My God, I want you so much…every time I see you, I just want to have you,” he whispered in her ear. The words she longed for him to say, the words that made her want to give him everything.
“Take me, Rookie. I’m yours…always,” she replied breathlessly, panting.
Rookie laid her gently down on a blanket that seemed to miraculously appear from nowhere. “Take your top off for me, beautiful. Let me see those lush breasts of yours.”
And Pippa did. She bared her breasts for him to see—only him.
“They are the most beautiful breasts I’ve ever seen, and the feel of them is so fucking amazing,” he said.
Rookie touching her was heavenly as an arc of pleasure raced from her nipple down past her clenching tummy, making her pulsating labia feel moist and swollen, evoking sensations throughout her body that up until now she had only reached from her own hand. She moaned, made little noises that made Rookie squeeze harder, pinch and caress more frantically.
“Let me touch you too. Take off your shirt, Rookie,” Pippa whispered self-consciously, almost begging, pleading. She was not sure of what she should be doing, what she needed to do to satisfy Rookie. To make him hers.
He did as she asked, and she stroked her hands over his chest. It was firm, muscled, not an inch of fat to mar his perfect form. She played with the few curls of hair that adorned his chest, feeling the softness of them. She tentatively touched the small buds of his nipples with her fingertips, marvelling at the feel of him. Her sigh was loud as she enjoyed touching him, finally, after having spent so long wanting him to notice her.
“Can I touch your pussy?” he asked politely, and although Pippa felt nervous, her mouth drying in anticipation, she nodded in assent.
Rookie’s touch was light at first, exploring her, testing, but before long she was riding his hand. “That’s right, beautiful, take what you need. Let me make you fly. Let me show you pleasure that you never imagined was possible,” he said as she slid back and forth on his fingers—two now—trying to find what she was striving for, what her body signalled that it needed.
She felt the moisture build where Rookie’s fingers explored. She was about to reach that glorious peak as her body tensed and arched towards him, the final goal that would ease the ache, the longing. But just as it seemed attainable, he removed his fingers, leaving her adrift and feeling as if she might die from the unattained release.