Playing Up
Playing Up: Harford Scarlet Series Prologue
Copyright 2014 Toria Lyons
Published by Toria Lyons at Smashwords
Smashwords Edition License Notes
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Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
About Toria Lyons
Other books by Toria Lyons
Connect with Toria Lyons
Chapter One
The thumping nightclub music segued into a popular floor-filler and the excited crowd surged around her, almost knocking her off her too-high heels. Sian caught her balance just as two warm, strong hands wrapped around her waist and steadied her from behind. She sucked in her stomach, conscious of the extra few pounds spilling over the waistband of the close-fitting trousers, and wondering who the gentleman was who was quick enough to notice she was in distress. The sea of revellers calmed, and the hands were removed as quickly as they appeared.
She carefully swivelled on her heels to see Rob standing close to her, wide shoulders protecting from further upset. A hot spark zinged through her belly. ‘Thanks for that,’ she acknowledged with a smile, shouting over the music.
He smiled back, his straight white teeth shining in the club lights, contrasting with his short dark mussed hair. ‘No problem, just glad you didn’t slap me for touching you without permission.’
So many responses flashed through her brain: that he could put his hands on her any time and she wouldn’t object; that she‘d love to touch him; that she’d want them to touch each other. She opened her mouth to say something but his attention was already distracted by a drink being handed to him. She decided to leave it with a smile, ‘See you later.’
As she walked carefully away, she mentally kicked herself for not saying something more imaginative, something flirtatious to get his attention.
Clare was by the corner of the bar ordering a couple of drinks and Sian joined her. ‘You’ll never guess what I’ve gone and done now,’ she yelled over the music.
‘It’s got to be something embarrassing by the look of regret on your face. Spit it out,’ commanded Clare.
‘Not really, but I completely missed out on an ideal flirting opportunity with Mr Powell,’ she groaned. ‘I almost fell into his arms due to these stupid shoes and this bloody carpet, and all I could think of was a “See you later”. I’m so shit at flirting.’
‘Never mind, you’ve got all night to make up for it. And, despite the cheesiness of this place, there’s other fish in the sea.’ Clare gestured around the packed nightclub. ‘Flames hasn’t changed much in the years we’ve been coming here; there’s the sticky carpets, the naff decor and music, and the perennial Saturday night rugby hordes looking for women to pull. Plenty to choose from there.’
Sian thumped her forehead against the nearby wall, ‘But I can’t stop thinking about him; I have trouble even looking at other men. He‘s just so, so hot. He really does it for me.’ She pulled a strand of her long, curly, light brown hair forward, covering her deep cleavage, ‘But he’ll never be interested in me.’
Clare patted her arm sympathetically, ‘Don’t think like that. It’s his loss. Rugby players don't often meet normal women for all the glamorous types swarming around. Although he‘s not my type, Rob’s bloody attractive. For a prop.’
Sian snorted, ‘Damned with faint praise, thanks. We’ve never established what your type is though.’
Clare pulled a face, ‘Not tossers like that Luke. Although I can’t control my hormones, they seem to decide for me. Damn things.’
‘Talking of hormones, and keeping them under control, where’s Sarah disappeared off to?’
They both looked around for their normally reserved friend, to see her laughing and joking a few yards away with a couple of dark-haired and well-built admirers.
‘Who’s that she’s with?’ shouted Sian.
Clare yelled back, ‘That’s Nick and Sam, they used to play for Harford Park. Both of them ask her out quite regularly, but she always says no.’
‘She really doesn’t want a relationship, does she?’
‘No, she doesn’t believe she’s suited for them, especially not with a player. I have to agree with her after the Luke debacle; I definitely got my fingers burnt. Now, let’s dance.’
They left their drinks in a quiet corner with a couple of familiar faces keeping an eye on them, and moved a few feet to the dance floor to enjoy the rhythm of the music. Every now and again, each discreetly signalled and laughed when they saw an attractive man looking their way. Sian caught a few glimpses of Rob but purposefully kept her eyes away. When Sarah joined them, a thirsty Sian went to reclaim her drink, discovering that Rob’s group was only a few yards away from them.
As she drank, she tried not to look, but found her gaze was drawn irresistibly towards him. His body just flat-out did it for her, from the dark T-shirt which clung lovingly to his thickly muscled upper body, to the well-worn jeans which hugged his tight arse and strong, broad thighs. He turned around and caught her looking his way. His eyes smiled at hers, ‘How are you?’ he mouthed.
‘Great,’ she smiled back, ‘Good game last night?’
He looked puzzled as if he couldn’t hear her and gestured that he’d come over. As he stepped nearer, her belly began to roil with nerves and anticipation.
When he was closer, she tried again, ‘Good game last night?’
‘Not bad. It was nice to get the whole eighty minutes.’
‘For a prop that’s like running a marathon.’
He laughed, ‘That’s quite accurate, except for more bruises.’
‘First time this season too?’
‘You’re correct, it was.’ He stared more curiously at her.
Silently she cursed herself; that was too observant. ‘Someone else worked it out, not me,’ she filled, ‘but it looked like you still had plenty of energy, that was a great try-saving tackle in injury time.’
‘Thanks again. How long have you been supporting Harford Park?’
‘Since I moved here from Cornwall six months ago.’
‘Isn’t Sian a Welsh name?’
‘My mother liked it, and my father was half Welsh. He insisted on the spelling, S I A N not how it’s pronounced, Sharn.’
‘Oh, OK then.’
They stood awkwardly, Sian trying to control the butterflies in her stomach. ‘So, do you come here often?’ she quipped lightly.
‘Now and again. As it was a Friday game this week, we have training early tomorrow. I’m only having a couple of beers tonight as I’m driving some of the boys home later.’
‘That’s nice of you.’
‘I’m a nice man.’
‘I can see that, I mean…’ she was glad that the dim lighting covered her blush, ‘I mean you seem like a nice man. I don‘t know you well enough to agree. You could be an axe-wielding maniac for all I know.’
‘Do you know many axe-wielding maniacs then?’
Sian giggled, ‘Just one or two, for some reason they seem to be attracted to me.’
‘I can see why,’ Rob appraised her appreciatively, from the deep cleavage bared in the semi-revealing top down to the glitzy but flimsy heels precariously strapped to her feet.
The butterflies intensified their fluttering and moved lower down, Sian shifted in place a
nd took a gulp of her drink, finishing it and setting the empty glass on a nearby ledge. ‘I suppose I better be getting back to the dance floor, Clare will be wondering where I am.’
‘She’s dancing with Sarah now.’
‘Still…excuse me,’ she went to pass Rob but in her agitated state she managed to step awkwardly and her ankle turned slightly.
Rob caught her around her waist again and helped her get her balance back. Again, she sucked in her tummy but this time his hands didn’t move away. ‘Are you OK?’
‘I’m fine, I’m not usually such a klutz but this carpet sticks to my heels. Thank you for being a hero once more.’ She dabbed a kiss on his cheek, almost swooning as the combination of his spicy aftershave and him drifted up into her lungs. Yum, he smelled so good. Her legs nearly gave way and she was grateful for the hands holding her up.
‘You sure?’ he turned his face towards her.
‘Yes, thank you,’ she breathed.
They froze in place for a few seconds as their eyes met again, and their lips met, and met again. The first touch of his hot tongue electrified her body, the second nearly made her swoon. He tasted of beer, and essence of full-blooded male. She murmured with pleasure, taking the kiss deeper and moving closer to him. Her hands rose to grasp his shoulders, run down his back and pull him closer towards her.
He deliberately seduced her with his tongue, working firmly into her again and again, demanding a response. Her body hummed with bliss at the fast-rising sensations. Her hands held his waist, she felt the muscles under the skin and couldn’t stop her hands from wandering further, to hold on to his buttocks. The powerful muscles rippled under her fingers and she squeezed back. In response he moved even closer to her as the kiss continued to deepen. She could feel his increasing interest against her body and murmured her delight, pressing her aching body against him. They twisted together in the shadows of the club, oblivious to anything around them.
Sian’s arousal was quickly escalating, he tasted so good, felt so good and it was all turning her on, blood rushing to throb and swell between her legs. She needed something, shifting restlessly to straddle one of his thighs. He steadily pulsed it back against her and the extra pressure took it up several notches, the sensations boiled up inside her, inner muscles squeezing tight. Her hips moved and her leg lifted so his bulge was pressed right against her. It was enough, or too much, she tipped over the cliff and her whole body shook. Gasping, she tore her mouth away from his, hiding her face on his shoulder, turned away from the rest of the club.
‘What’s the matter? You OK?’ he spoke in her ear.
She could only moan in response as the tremors died down. She tried to glance up at him to reassure him but her eyes lost focus as the last of the quakes threw her.
His concerned eyes cleared with sudden understanding, ‘Did you just…?’
She managed a feeble nod. ‘Look, no hands,’ she joked weakly.
‘Bloody hell,’ he swore, ‘I didn’t know that was possible from a kiss.’
‘Neither did I,’ she admitted. His bulge was still pressing into her, but she was becoming too sensitive to remain that close. She brought her legs back together, drawing away from him. His arms fell away, brushing lightly against the heavy undersides of her breasts. She could feel dampness between her legs threatening to soak through her trousers and tell the world how aroused he’d made her. ‘I need to…ummm, clean up.’ His eyes heated and she nearly came again, she still felt so ready and aching for him and had to stop from rubbing her thighs together, shifting her hips. ‘I need…’ she restrained the next words. Him, she needed him. Inside her, filling and stretching her. Her head bowed as visions of what he could do to her flashed through her head and he had to hold on to her as her legs gave way.
‘Are you feeling OK? Shall we get out of here?’ suggested Rob.
Sian nodded, her embarrassment total as she noticed people watching them curiously. With a guiding arm around her waist, he helped her collect her coat and they left the club.
He took her to a side street and with a beep, opened a car door. Sian dazedly got inside, the butterflies in her stomach taking over again.
He started the car, ‘I’ve only had one beer so I’m OK to drive. Where do you live? I’ll take you home.’
‘Ranwell,’ Sian named the nearby suburb and watched as his strong hands operated the vehicle, competently handling the machine. The thought of those same hands on her body sent shivers through her. She had heard jokes about the female equivalent of a hard-on, a “wide-on”, and thought that was what she must have between her legs, throbbing, engorged heat and gushing wetness. Her thighs shifted restlessly together and apart as she attempted to find respite from the insistent arousal. She failed to restrain a whimper as her hands fidgeted in her lap.
‘Are you cold?’ asked Rob with concern. His left hand went to take the temperature of one of hers, missing and his strong fingers glanced her thigh instead. She couldn’t stop the involuntary jolt of her hips and a faint moan. He chuckled. ‘Or is it something else?’ he added, his deep voice dropping sensuously.
His voice sent shivers of lust down her spine. ‘Something else. I’m…not usually like this.’
‘Like what?’ His idle fingers returned, tracing down and up her thigh.
Her breath shortened until she was almost panting, she wanted those thick fingers somewhere else, ‘So…ready.’ She was glad of the darkness covering her blush.
For the rest of the short journey, Sian struggled to stay still in her seat, anticipation riding her unmercifully. She sat on her hands to keep from reaching across to him, to find out whether the bulge she’d felt earlier was still there. Her knickers felt unbelievably wet against her, and she had to concentrate on not pulling the seam of her trousers against her mound for extra friction or relief.
The atmosphere in the car remained tense. Every now and again Rob would run a hand up or down her thigh, Sian would try to restrain a moan. His fingers would lightly touch near her mound, teasing her, and he would pull away as her hips followed demanding more pressure. Her breasts felt swollen and begging for contact, for friction, for him to suck on the knotted nipples to give her some kind of relief.
She could barely draw a breath to guide him towards her place, and was a heaving mess as he pulled into her road. He slowed the car and glanced at her, she hurriedly got her bearings. ’It’s the one with the lamppost outside,’ she directed. ‘You can pull over right outside.’
He drew up outside her flat and the engine cut out. ‘Nice street,’ Rob looked up at the building, and at her. His glittering eyes were just visible in the light cast from the street, ‘Been here long?’
‘Since I moved to London, six months ago.’ Sian released her hands to take the seatbelt off. The device wouldn’t unclip, she started tugging at it.
He stilled her fingers, ‘The catch is a little...recalcitrant.’
They faced each other. With a click, the strap smoothly slid away from her body but their hands stayed together, the fingers entwining.
‘Are you going to come in? Please?’ asked Sian throatily, not caring how it sounded.
He took one of her hands and moved it to the bulge in his jeans, ‘How does this feel?’
He was thick and ready, twitching under her palm, she squeezed him lightly and he groaned. The smouldering flames between her legs flared even higher. She squeezed him again, her free hand running through the soft, short hair at the nape of his neck and pulling him towards her. ‘Fuck. I want you so bad.’
‘I’m so hard for you.’
‘I’m so wet for you.’
‘Hold me.’ His hand directed hers on his crotch.
‘Hold me!’ she grabbed his other hand and placed it on her breasts. The hard squeeze followed by a nipple pinch made her lose control; she arched her back into his hands and tried to get closer.
She banged her knee against the steering wheel, which brought her slightly to her senses; they were still in the car, s
he couldn’t take him there. ‘Inside,’ she hissed, groaning as she halted his roving hands.
‘If you want me to.’
‘Fuck yes! Definitely.’
As soon as he agreed, she leapt out and impatiently waited for him to lock the car. She swiftly mounted the steps and he followed her into the flat. As soon as he crossed the threshold she descended on him, slamming the door and yanking off his T-shirt in one move. With a laugh of victory she ran her hands over his pectorals, ‘God, you’re gorgeous. I’m dying for you.’
‘I’ll try not to leave you disappointed,’ assured Rob huskily, bemusement in his voice.
Between deep, drugging, lascivious kisses, she stripped off the rest of his clothes, happy to see his generous manhood was ready for her. She clasped her hand around him and his hips flexed as he groaned at her touch. She didn’t want to take her hand off him, but the ache of need between her thighs was intensifying into pain.
‘Sofa,’ she muttered, ‘Here.’ She led him by his cock towards the cushions, he came willingly and she pushed him so he was sitting, his body hardly visible in the light from the streets shining in through the window. She pulled off her clothes, forgetting to hold her stomach in, rooting around in her bag for a condom and rolling it on to him, struggling to stop caressing him. ‘Sorry, no more foreplay. I have to have you.’
His hands came up as she knelt across him and one went between her legs, ‘Fuck, you’re absolutely soaking.’
Sian gasped at the intimate touch, rubbing herself on him. One of his fingers delved inside her and she squeezed it tightly with her inner muscles. She kissed him, sucking at his tongue in an imitation of the act to come as her hips rolled towards him.
Before she could peak, he withdrew his hand. Instead, hers went down to touch him and she moved until she was above him. Anticipation. It was too much, she thrust her hips down and he speared smoothly up into her body. It was enough to send her crazy, yelping in pleasure at the tight fit and jolting as close to him as she could manage. She began sighing, her body an unstoppable, runaway train, out of her control, squeezing him as tight as she could.