But now, I somewhat regretted this decision. It was my nature to want my sexual conquests to wake up and see the extravagance in which I lived. Of course, I was going to just kick them straight out, but I liked to leave an impression.
I could feel Riley murmur against me now. She deserved some rest after the night that we’d had together. After all, once she’d grown a little more accustomed to my size, she had become surprisingly voracious.
It was difficult for her to keep up with me, but damn, did she try. All that pent-up energy from being away from my training had reflected itself into our time between the sheets.
For the first time in ages, I actually felt like getting back to work... After that marathon of sex last night, I could stand to do some sprints, knock out some leg day, or even just swim some laps and streamline my athletic build a little more.
A bothersome thought occurred to me.
It dawned on me that I hadn’t heard from Jess since the late afternoon. However, my phone had buzzed a several times during my wild coupling with my new friend here, Riley.
I reached for my phone, unlocking it with a few button taps, and then…
The knocking at the door drew my attention. Didn’t I put a “Do Not Disturb” on the door? Is this the kind of service to expect at a layman’s hotel?
The knocking resumed, harder now.
“Lex? Lex, I know you’re in there!”
Riley shifted around in her sleep slightly, and then her eyes darted open. “Who is that?” She sleepily asked, and I groaned my response.
“That would be Jess.”
She looked at me inquisitively, but I didn’t think anything of it at the time. Instead, I ascended from the bed, tossing on a pair of boxers and my pajama bottoms.
With Riley’s eyes on me as she drew the bedding up to her neck, I lazily sauntered over towards the door and unlocked it.
“Lex, you idiot! Why haven’t you been answering my–”
I slid into position to block Riley from sight, but Jess had already seen her. Glancing over my shoulder, she looked at me with a mixture of surprise and disappointment.
“Lex, what the fuck?”
“I met her yesterday,” I responded sleepily. “She spent the night.”
“Yeah, I can obviously see that… hell of a night for you to pick, though,” Jess crossed her arms, a telling smirk plastered across her face. “I’ve been trying to catch you for hours…”
“Why, what is it?” I asked curiously.
Jess was always bad at hiding her emotions. Disappointment, maybe even fear, clouded her expression almost immediately. She took a deep sigh, and I knew the following news couldn’t be good…
I heard rustling from the bed behind me. I’d almost forgotten about last night’s lay, and for a little privacy, I held the door ajar and stepped partially out.
“Out with it!” I hissed the demand.
Jess’s expression hardened – and then I knew the news was going to slay me. “A friend of mine in the agency says that Brett Barker is already considering… alternate possibilities for the latest contract.”
My blood ran cold.
“Who?”
“My source itself is reliable, but the information… we’re not exactly–”
“Not another word that doesn’t answer the fucking question,” I told her in no uncertain terms. “We both knew this could be a possibility. So tell me… who is it?”
Jess took a deep breath.
“Alistair Pritch.”
My heart plummeted into my stomach. Pritch was a defender on our team, and a fiercely competitive one at that. His role was to protect the goalie and ensure that the football didn’t dare progress into the goalkeeper’s box… and he was very, very good at it.
He was also my singular proper rival in the sport – the one person who kept me on top of my game by sheer necessity.
“Pritch…” I responded blankly.
“That’s right,” Jess bit her bottom lip. “Alistair Pritch is in the running. My source tells me that he’s the favourite contender for the contract.”
It wasn’t just a simple rivalry between players. The National Team drew in the best football players from the entire country, from various leagues and teams. It just so happened that his and my teams were, for most of our careers, bitter rivals through and through.
The goal for the National Team, as with any represented country, was to blur oppositions and contests to string together the best of the best.
Of which I was the king.
But Alistair… Alistair Pritch was the wicked chancellor to my reign. A viper in the grass, he followed orders and obeyed my directions… so long as there wasn’t any foolhardy alternative that would propel himself into the spotlight.