Final Score (45 page)

‘I don’t know how many more times I can tell you, Jim.’

‘Maybe words aren’t always enough.’

Their eyes were locked together in a stare Amber couldn’t break, even though every fibre of her being was telling her this didn’t feel right. He was her husband, and she loved him, no matter what he thought, she loved him, but this didn’t feel right. There were too many crazy emotions flying around, and she just wasn’t sure what to feel any more.

‘Please, Jim.’

His mouth was back on her neck, his hands playing with the hem of her t-shirt, pushing it up higher, exposing her naked lower half, which in some almost warped way, turned Amber on, despite herself. Despite everything going on around her, she could feel that ache between her legs, that familiar tingle starting up all over again.

‘We shouldn’t be doing this,’ she whispered, but in reality it was the only thing she wanted to do. ‘We shouldn’t…’

‘Do you want me to stop?’ His mouth was resting on hers, his breath warm against her skin.

She shook her head. ‘No.’ She loved him. It was as simple as that. She loved him. And nothing he could do could change that now. That’s what it had come down to. All those years of loving him then trying to forget him; all those years of having him back in her life and losing him, only to realise that she couldn’t live without him. It had taken over two decades of this crazy, painful cycle but it was never going to end. She could walk away, and it might feel like the right thing to do, but she knew it would never last. He was so far under her skin now, he was always going to be there. He’d stripped her down, weakened her; he’d turned her into something she hadn’t wanted to be. But if being all of that meant she could be with him then she would live with that. It was him she couldn’t live without.

‘Lie down,’ he whispered.

They should be talking. They shouldn’t be doing this. What was sex going to solve? Nothing. But she still wanted it. She still wanted him.

So she did as he said. She lay down on the couch, closing her eyes as he took her hands, pushing her arms up above her head, pulling off her t-shirt. She was completely naked now, exposed; vulnerable. This man had taken over her entire life. And there was nothing she could do to change that.

She gasped quietly as he took hold of her hips, her back automatically arching in response, her hands still up above her head.

‘Keep your eyes closed.’ His mouth was close to her ear, his breath felt warm on her neck, his hands holding her so gently it was confusing – given his mood. And it made her slightly nervous. But still she continued to do as he said, because the greater part of her was so turned on it was crazy. How the hell had they got from arguing to this? To his hands on her skin and his mouth on her breasts. To her whole world being turned on its head all over again.

Because she was weak. But she really didn’t care.

Keeping her eyes closed, she clasped her hands together above her head, gasping quietly as his mouth moved down, brushing over her hip bone, his hands gently pushing her legs apart. She felt him slide a cushion underneath her, raising her hips up slightly, and she knew what was coming next. Before he’d even touched her she’d breathed in deeply, exhaling slowly, flinching slightly when his mouth finally touched her, his hands on her inner thighs keeping her legs open. Wave after wave of pure, raw pleasure washed over her, her stomach contracting in a constant somersault because he was touching her deeply, right where she needed to be touched, Jesus, he knew exactly what to do and she couldn’t help but cry out, an almost despondent groan escaping when he pulled away. And for a few seconds she felt nothing, but she knew he was still there, she could feel him.

‘Keep them closed,’ he whispered, his fingers intertwining with hers for a few, brief seconds, their mouths almost touching.

She breathed in deeply again, feeling him pull the cushion out from underneath her, his hands on her waist lifting her up and pulling her over so she was straddling him. She automatically wrapped her legs around him, throwing her head back as he pushed into her, and even though she wanted to look at him, she kept her eyes closed. Because he’d told her to? Not any more. She was keeping them closed because it was quickly turning into one of the most incredible experiences of her life. That rush of blood she could feel made her head spin and her heart work faster than it ever had done. What he said to her turned her on so much she didn’t want to come out of this.

‘Look at me, Amber.’

No. She didn’t want to open her eyes. She’d already decided she didn’t want to do that.

‘Amber, baby, look at me. Please.’

She felt his fingers gently stroke the small of her back, which in turn sent another shiver right through her, but still she kept her eyes closed, leaning back slightly so she could feel him go deeper. She wanted him deeper. She wanted him so far inside her she couldn’t even explain.

‘Amber, honey, I need to look at you.’

He needed to realise
she
was in control now. He couldn’t have it all his own way.

She felt his hand touch her face, his thumb stroking her cheek before he pulled her head down, his mouth resting on hers as he spoke. ‘I want to look at you when you come,’ he whispered. ‘I want to look into your eyes and watch you, Amber. I want to see what I do to you.’

She slowly opened her eyes to look into his. ‘You want to know I’m yours?’

‘I want to know you’re mine.’

She clenched her muscles, gripping him tightly inside her, pushing down onto him, leaning forward just a touch because that helped. It made sure that she had just the right amount of friction needed to give him what he wanted – to give
her
what she needed.

But he shook his head, pushing her back, reaching down to touch her, and the second his fingers were on her she couldn’t help but gasp. It felt better to let him touch her.

His eyes were still on hers, boring deep as his fingers pressed against her, his body moving inside her, and Amber felt as though she was going to explode because the tension building up was ridiculous. She could feel it, growing, spreading through her like some erotic kind of wildfire.

His stare intensified as his fingers worked faster, their hard yet gentle motion against her, coupled with the feeling of him deep inside her was building up to a climax Amber knew was going to be a killer. Her breath was quickening, becoming almost painful as it caught in her throat, refusing to escape, her chest heaving with the pressure. So when she finally came, in a rush of something so violent, she couldn’t quite get her head around it; it was the most incredible feeling. Because he was coming, too. He was spilling out inside her, flooding her body, his fingers still moving against her even though they’d done their job. But she didn’t want him to stop touching her. Not yet. She didn’t want this to end because the reality that waited for them, outside of the bubble they’d slipped into, scared her. So she let him take her over, let his fingers touch her and his mouth kiss her so slowly it was painfully beautiful.

She finally closed her eyes again and fell into that kiss, his arms holding her, his body still inside her. Because that’s where he belonged. Inside her. He was such a huge part of her now that, without him, she was only half a person. So she didn’t want this to end. Because what came afterwards was a truth she was going to have to face. Amber Sullivan was never coming back.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Max sat forward, pushing both hands through his hair before flinging himself back against his chair, swinging it around so he could look out onto a busy Covent Garden. Everybody was getting on with their lives while he was in the process of changing someone’s. And they didn’t even know about it.

He pushed his chair back and stood up, sticking his hands in his pockets as he walked over to the other side of his office. The wall housed photographs of many of his famous clients, most of them footballers. Famous footballers. Ridiculously wealthy footballers. Men who lived inside a world very few would ever experience; a world of ridiculous excess and ludicrous pay cheques, which enabled them to have anything they wanted. Anything. Except happiness. Money couldn’t buy you that.

And then there was Amber. His slightly left-of-centre client, because she was still the only person on his books who wasn’t a footballer. He looked up at a picture of her with her long, dark-red hair hanging loosely over her shoulders, and those pale-blue eyes of hers staring straight into the camera. He knew she had absolutely no idea of how beautiful she really was. How dangerous she’d become.

His eyes moved to the picture beside her. A photograph of Ryan Fisher in his Newcastle Red Star kit, a cocky smile on his handsome face. He was one good-looking kid, that was for sure. But between the two of them, Amber Sullivan and Ryan Fisher had made one hell of a mess of their lives. And not just theirs. Because everything they’d done hadn’t just affected them. There’d been a snowball effect even Max had been powerless to stop. But he had the chance to stop it now; to put an end to the damage those two could cause, without even realising it. He just wished it didn’t have to be the way it was. But it really was the only option left, no matter how hard he’d tried to fight it. And he had tried. He really had.

Bowing his head for a second he took in a sharp intake of breath. He loved that young man like a son, and to see what he’d been through – to have saved him from crap that could have ended his career; crap that could have ended his life, it was tough to think of what was going on. He was a dad now. That arrogant, self-assured, unpredictable man was a dad now. And just the thought of what might have to happen… But something needed to give, before more people got hurt. That’s why Max was doing this. And that’s what he had to keep telling himself.

Walking back over to his desk he picked up the phone and punched in a familiar number, waiting just a couple of seconds before it was answered.

‘It’s all sorted. But now the real work begins.’

*

Amber flung open the shutters and peered outside. It was another beautiful day on the island of Majorca, and from her villa, which was just a five-minute walk from the sea front, she could see the marina and sea so blue she didn’t think there was a colour to describe it.

‘Maybe we’ll go for a walk later, baby, huh?’ She turned around and smiled at her eight-and-a-half-month-old son, wondering where the time had gone. He could sit up now; he could crawl so fast she couldn’t keep up with him sometimes, and the day he’d said ‘mama’ Amber had cried for almost half an hour. Her beautiful boy. She loved him so much she couldn’t even describe how it felt when she looked at him.

She watched as he looked up at her, smiling a smile so like his daddy’s it made her gasp. He was so much like Ryan it was unbelievable. He didn’t seem to have a great deal of her in him, although her dad said the dark hair and his perfect little nose was a sign of his slight Mediterranean heritage. Amber just thought he was being nice, because she really couldn’t see any of her in Rico at all. He was a mini Ryan; a baby version of the man she’d messed around so much. It hurt to think about what she and Jim done to him because she wanted Ryan to be happy. She just wanted him to stop living in some kind of fantasy world, where he still thought there was a chance she’d go back to him, because she wouldn’t. That was never going to happen.

She smiled as she watched Rico fall forward and start to crawl towards her, and she crouched down, holding her arms out to him as he picked up speed, almost racing towards her, gurgling away and smiling his smile.

‘Hey, I’ve got you, little man,’ she laughed, scooping him up and spinning him around because that always made him laugh, and his laugh was a sound she never tired of hearing. It was a beautiful sound that rang around the space it filled and made her heart jump with happiness. ‘Let’s go outside, huh? Shall we go and get some fresh air?’

He looked at her, still smiling his smile, reaching out to gently tug at her hair before he leaned forward to plant a kiss on her mouth.

‘I love you so much,’ she whispered, hugging him against her, gently rubbing his back as he snuggled into her. ‘So, so much. You always remember that, you hear me? Even when you’re all grown up and don’t want my hugs any more, you always remember how much your mummy loves you.’

She kissed the top of his head, taking his tiny hand in hers as they walked outside onto the terrace, the brilliant sunshine hitting them head-on. It was warm, but not overly hot, as it was still only May. But it was warm enough to sunbathe, and that’s exactly what Amber intended to do later on, when Rico had his nap. She was going to lie by the pool and do nothing.

She’d taken Rico to see some of his Spanish relatives yesterday, over in Sant Elm, and even though they’d insisted she and Rico stay with them, she wanted some time alone. It was something she’d tried to find before but that hadn’t exactly turned out well. So it was nice to have a second chance to spend a little bit of mummy-and-baby time with her boy.

She walked across the terrace, balancing Rico on her hip, her eyes taking in the beautiful view in front of her – that azure sea, and the almost cloudless blue sky. She’d had so much time to think here, and whilst at first she’d been worried that that time may have made her realise things she didn’t want to face up to, it had actually done the opposite. Being away from Jim still hurt. She missed him with a burning pain every day when she woke up and he wasn’t there beside her. But he was busy; he couldn’t be with her. With just a handful of games left until the end of the football season, Endleigh United needed just one more win to guarantee them the League title, so he had other things to do. But she missed him. Even when he wasn’t with her, he took over every inch of her being; invaded every corner of her soul. She was his for the rest of her life. A beautiful prison she could never break free from.

‘Dada,’ Rico gurgled, looking over Amber’s shoulder, resting his chin on it as he clung onto her.

‘Daddy’s very busy right now, baby.’ She rubbed his back again, kissing his cheek. His daddy
was
busy, she hadn’t lied there. With Newcastle Red Star not doing as well as they had done when Jim had been in charge, Ryan had become an integral part of their strike force in a bid to win those games needed to keep them out of the bottom half of the league table. He was still stripped of the captaincy, still being punished for what he’d almost got himself into in the past, but he was back on the team now, and they needed him at his best.