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“Thanks mate.”
I find my usual seat and relax. It’s a perfect evening for a game, unseasonably warm for late September in New Jersey. Kate spots me and smiles. The stadium is still filling up, so she takes a minute and walks over to my section. My seat is in the front row, just off the pitch. There are perks to being married to the head coach.
“Hi angel.” I lean over and give her a kiss, just a small one since she’s at work. Nowhere near the sloppy, wet, tongue kiss I want to lie on her.
“Dax. You made it in time tonight.” She winks. Kate knows that I’ve been frustrated with all of the late recording sessions that have made me miss more than one of her games.
“Yeah, well, Adam was in a good mood today. We got done early if you can believe that.” I’ll tell her about Ellie later. No need to distract her before a game.
We ignore the whispers and pings of mobile phones as people nearby sneak pictures of us. We’re used to it by now. The fans who sit near my seat are friends and family of the staff and players. They’re used to me and treat me like a regular bloke. It’s nice to be normal.
The video of Kate and I at the Olympics went viral minutes after it happened. By the next day, most of the world had seen it, or were talking about it. It took forever for the attention to die out. No more hiding behind the front man anymore. I’m thoroughly recognizable all on my own.
I lean over the half wall. “Is your helmet still in your car?”
Kate eyes me curiously. “Yes.”
“Ride home with me.” We have a beautiful house about a half-hour north, midway between here and the city. It’s perfect for a trip on the bike.
A spark of interest flashes across her face. “Why?”
I lean in as close as I can get. “So I can feel that fit body pressed up against me while the Ducati growls between your thighs, angel. Why else?”
“Dirty, dirty, Dax.” Kate pulls back and smirks. I can tell she l
ikes the idea.
“I’ll bring you back tomorrow to fetch your car. What do you say, Mrs. Davies? Ride with me?”
Kate shifts to whisper in my ear, her hot breath causing me to shiver under my leather jacket. That raspy, sexy voice of hers sends testosterone racing through my veins. “I’ll do anything for you, Mr. Davies. Anything.”
Kate winks, then turns and trots over to her team. I watch that tight ass and sit back in my seat, loving the hell out of my life.
Fuck the rules, my way is much, much better.
STRIKE
The Rules
Family first
Never let your emotions show
No fucking, shagging, wanking, sucking, or getting off for seven days leading up to a fight. You win, you get your reward.
Women who act like slags can be treated like slags, but never disrespect a proper lady.
Defend what’s yours.
End of Book Stuff
