Playing Dirty(5)

“Hello, sexy,” the girl said softly. Her voice was attractively raspy, but when I blinked and looked closer, I saw crumbs of mascara under her eyes, complete with massive circles. “Why don’t you come on back to bed?” She gave me a lascivious look and I rolled my eyes before stepping into the bathroom and closing the door behind me.

My body ached like I’d been running all over the pitch, and I blinked and shook my head, trying to clear the hangover. I could barely remember last night, but that was nothing new. I grinned as an image flashed into my mind: the blonde in my bed, plastering herself against me at a pub and slipping her hands into my pants. She’d been so hot to get me out of there, she’d practically dragged my pants off in the alley and tried to finish me off right then and there.

With satisfying forcefulness, I took a piss, sighing at the feeling of immediate relief.

“Jay, are you gonna be much longer in there?” The girl’s voice sounded loudly from the other side of the closed door. “I need to use the loo!”

“I’ll be right out,” I muttered. “Christ, can’t a man take a piss in peace?”

I heard pearls of giggles from my one-time companion, and a trace of irritation flickered through me. What was with these birds who thought that the morning was a fun time for chatting?

“Jay!” The girl squeaked when I opened the door. I thought she was going to dash past me for the loo but instead she wrapped her arms around my waist and pulled me close. “Come back to bed.”

I shook my head. “Can’t,” I said casually as I peeled her arms away from my body. “I gotta get down to the pitch. I’m already late.”

She giggled again, and I felt the mild annoyance getting stronger. “Come on, it’ll be fun,” she wheedled. Blinking up at me with vacant blue eyes, she bit her lower lip and went on. “After all, you were game last night!”

“Last night was last night,” I said mildly, pushing past her and reaching for my jumper and pants on the floor. “And this morning, it’s time for you to leave.”

She pouted. “Come on,” she said. Her resolve was clearly weakening but she shot me a hopeful smile anyway.

I shook my head.

“Jayyyy,” she continued, drawing my name out in a long, teasing way as her expression became coy. “Let’s take a shower together. I know you want to. You know…you can even fuck me in the ass if you want.”

My skin itched at the mention of a shower, but I wasn’t in the mood to share my time under the hot water, and god…her desperation was not sexy at all. “Don’t be such a melter,” I told her. “Time for you to go. Come on.”

She pouted again and I resisted the urge to go in the bathroom and lock the door until she’d gone. “You don’t even remember my name, do you?” she asked in a hurt voice.

I shot her a guilty grin and shrugged. “Don’t take it personally,” I said. “Trust me, this happens a lot.”

Yeah, I was an asshole, but at least I was honest about it.

The blonde’s smile finally vanished, and I watched with mild interest as she collected her clothes from the floor and stepped neatly into a tiny pair of pink panties and an even tinier black mini-dress. Oh, yeah. The black dress. That’s what had drawn me to her in the first place. I was a sucker for girls in tiny black dresses. I knew it was stereotypical, but I couldn’t help it. Every time one of those birds walked by, I felt my leg twitch like a pup’s.

The girl finally left, slamming the door behind her and stalking to the lifts in a huff, and I checked my phone and saw that Coach had called a few times. Bloody hell, I thought. Just my fucking luck right now.

I was lucky I was so good, or else my antics probably would have gotten me booted off the team, and there was no way I could let that happen. Football was my life. I loved the adrenaline of running onto the pitch with my mates, kicking and tackling our way to victory. The adrenaline after winning a match was like nothing else I’d ever experienced, and it even beat out the feeling of going home with a new girl for the first time.

There was nothing else like it in the world.

The blonde girl had flipped the TV on while waiting for me to come out of the bathroom earlier, and for a minute, I stared at the screen, enchanted by what I saw. It was a re-run of an American show called Keeping Current With Kate. The hostess was a sexy brunette who always wore shift dresses with mandarin collars, and seeing her was enough to get my cock hard and my balls aching. Even though she talked about a lot of serious issues, she managed to act playful and intelligent in turn, which really helped convey her points, and while the show was aimed at women, I liked to catch it whenever I could, just so I could watch her. She was one of the hottest women I’d ever seen on TV, but knowing what most media personalities were like, she was probably nervy as hell in person. I couldn’t imagine her tossing a shot of tequila down her throat and dancing with me until the wee hours of the morning, that was for sure.