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The Russian grinned. “That’d be great.”
“I so walked right into that,” I groaned.
He pulled himself up, and me along with him. Snap, crackle, pop went the camera flashes. Lucas was getting a fair bit of attention too as he was partnered with our tallest and most athletic player Karley, and she wasn’t giving him an inch – Lucas so tall and fair, Karley so tall and dark ... rather beautiful they were. I glanced towards Mia, but she was totally unfazed, which was totally healthy.
Then the two physios from the Saints and Suns pulled Buzz and me out of training just to do some work on our injuries, which meant The Russian and Latoya—who had been partnered with Buzz—got together. I knew The Russian and Buzz had a history of mutual dislike—too much testosterone—but I didn’t realize that it would cause a problem. Buzz and I were lying next to each other on the tables, sharing a few laughs, and my physio Carlo, and the Saints’ physio, Andy, joined in. I then noticed The Russian was watching me, and I swear his dark eyes had green in them. This was not good. Man, this guy was so insecure. I was lying face down, but I lifted myself up a bit and, ensuring I had his attention, I moved my hand to my heart. His brow furrowed as he realized what I was doing, and then he smiled at me. I thought we were okay. But no …
True to his reputation of being the club fight boy and stirrer, Buzz read The Russian like a book and began to act up on it. I could feel Buzz running his eyes over me and then he leaned over to make a joke, as though we were sharing an intimate secret. He placed his hand on my arm.
It was like the beach exploded; The Russian was pulling Buzz up from the physio bench by his throat and Buzz struck out, getting in a few good pummels to The Russian’s rib area.
The Suns’ girls screamed and huddled out of the way, and Saints’ players seemed to emerge on the two men from all sides. Lucas and Nik were at the core of the fight, trying to pull the two men apart without much success, while the physios and management were blocking the media to stop taking photos. I joined the Suns’ girls, scurrying away, keen not to be caught in the crossfire.
The players managed to contain the scene but not before the media had a few good shots, and you can guess the headline for that one.
“You’re a fucking stirrer, Buzz,” Lucas said, pushing him backward. Buzz grinned, not taking his eyes off The Russian.
“If I had one less ounce of self-control,” The Russian hissed at him.
“Yeah, what would have happened?” Buzz taunted him.
“Let’s just say your season would be over,” The Russian threatened.
Several of the Saint’s boys continued to stand between them. I could tell their coach was seething.
“Russian, Buzz, hit the water and cool down,” he ordered them, “And if either of you make contact, you’re on the bench this weekend, and I mean it.”
The Russian wouldn’t look at me; maybe that was a good thing, especially as everyone else was sneaking glances in my direction.
“Let’s get back to work,” our coach called and everyone got back in position.
I saw The Russian and Buzz emerge from the waves a few minutes later and the coach took them aside for a dressing-down. They re-joined the training session five minutes later. The Russian still wouldn’t look at me. I didn’t know if he was angry with me, embarrassed or angry with himself.
At the end of the training session, we formed two lines like we did on game days, and all moved along shaking each other’s hands. It had been fun except for that incident, and it made training more interesting for the day. When I came to shake hands with The Russian, he held my hand a bit longer. The training group broke up.
“Come back to my place?” he asked.
“If you can drop me back to my car at our clubhouse later?”
“Sure,” he happily agreed.
Lucas came over. “You two want to come up for a drink?”
“Ah, thanks ...” I said, with a glance to The Russian.
“But no, thanks buddy. I’ve got to show Carla something ... very important. High-security stuff,” he joked.
Lucas grinned. “Yeah, I’m sure she needs to see that.”
*****
A few of the Saints and Suns stayed for a dip in the ocean and then after, The Russian and I walked back to his place. I think his streak of jealousy must come with a desperate need for reassurance because we’d barely gotten inside the door before The Russian set upon me. His strong hands pulled me close to him and he kissed me like a man needing oxygen. We didn’t make it to the bedroom, luckily he had that huge circle couch; I was on my back on it, with my swimmers pulled down past my knees and off before I could say “take me, Russian”.
The Russian made this guttural sort of sound as he moved back up my body, and then removed my swimsuit top. Sand was all over us – gritty lovemaking, we didn’t care, I just as greedily pulled off his shorts and swimmers. I began to run my tongue over his defined six pack, and I could tell it was appreciated. The Russian was primed and erect. But then he stopped me, and pulled me up close to him; his eyes were full of pain ... enough to stop primal needs and make him reach for me.
“What is it?” I asked and touched his face. He didn’t speak immediately, but I could see him carefully putting his words together, not wanting to be naked emotionally and physically.
He swallowed. “About earlier ...”
