The Striker (Gods of the Game Book 1)

I hated to admit it, but my father was right. I was distracted.

I just didn’t care.

It was summer. I had a few weeks before the season started, I was in great shape training-wise, and I wanted to soak up every moment with Scarlett while I could.

Once the season was underway and her brother returned to town, our dynamic would change, so fuck focus. I’d worked my ass off for over a decade; I could afford a little time off.

“You’re unusually quiet,” Scarlett said, trailing her fingers up and down my thigh. “What are you thinking about?”

“You.” I wrapped my arms around her from behind and rested my chin on her shoulder. We were lazing in her bathtub, the lavender-scented bubbles barely covering her curves as we luxuriated in the quiet evening. It was Thursday so we didn’t have training, but I didn’t need that as an excuse to see her anymore. “Your practices are going well. You nailed the choreography yesterday.”

In addition to her Tuesday cast rehearsals, she was practicing pieces of Lorena on her own after our trainings.

“Do you even know what the choreography is supposed to look like?” She sounded amused.

“Yes. It’s supposed to look like how you did it yesterday.”

Scarlett turned her head, her face stamped with good-natured exasperation. “Asher Donovan, you are too smooth for your own good.”

“Am I?” I skimmed my mouth over the curve of her shoulder and up her neck, savoring the silky-smooth feel of her skin. “Or am I just telling the truth?”

She let out a sigh of pleasure when I captured her mouth in a kiss. She tasted like sugar and strawberries, and when she slid her tongue against mine, my entire body reacted with instant, visceral need.

Every time we kissed felt like the first fucking time. There was always another layer to unpeel.

I bracketed her waist with my hands and turned her so she wasn’t craning her neck. The friction of her body against mine sent another jolt of lust from the head of my cock to my aching balls.

“Fuck.” I groaned.

The vibrations from Scarlett’s laughter didn’t help my situation. “You’re wound tight today,” she murmured. “Let’s see if we can take care of that, shall we?”

She kissed me again, winding her arms around my neck and rocking against me with delicious, deliberate movements that made my brain short-circuit.

I’d always preferred showers to baths, but not anymore.

Screw showers. Baths were the best.

I cupped the back of her head, holding her steady as she ground harder against me. Another tortured groan traveled up my throat.

We didn’t have condoms with us, and I didn’t want to break our embrace to grab them from her bedroom. But she was so slick and soft, and she tasted so good, that if I didn’t get inside her soon I⁠—

A sharp gasp bled into our kiss—not of pleasure but of pain.

I instantly pulled back, my lust puddling into panic when Scarlett winced, her brow crumpling. “What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?”

“No, nothing like that,” she reassured me. She shifted her weight and took a deep breath. “It’s this position. I got a sudden twinge in my leg. That’s all.”

“Fuck.” I ran a hand over my face. Of course her tiny tub wasn’t a good place for foreplay. I was usually hyperconscious of how and where we had sex in case it aggravated her chronic pain, but I’d gotten too lost in the moment. “I didn’t think…”

“It’s not your fault.” Scarlett gave me a quick smile. “Usually it’s not so bad, but it’s been a long week. I’m more sensitive than usual.”

“I should’ve thought of it,” I insisted, mentally kicking myself for the oversight. “We don’t have to stay here. We can move somewhere more comfortable if you need to rest.”

I hated that I’d played a part in her discomfort. I’d pay any amount of money to take away her pain—not just her physical ones, but the mental and emotional ones too.

But money couldn’t buy peace. I, of all people, knew that.

“Stop. This isn’t on you.” Scarlett’s fingers skimmed over my mouth, soothing my grimace. “I want to have sex. I like sex. I also like this tub, and I like what we were doing in here. I just needed a little…adjustment before we continue. If I truly need to stop, I’d tell you.”

I must’ve looked unconvinced because her mouth flattened into a stubborn line. “Don’t,” she said. “Promise you won’t treat me like I’m a porcelain doll you’re afraid you’ll break. That’s not what I want.”

I brushed my lips over hers in the lightest of kisses. “So what do you want?”

“I want to stay here.” I felt her smile more than I saw it. “I didn’t pour a quarter of my fanciest bubble bath for nothing. That stuff is expensive.”

Relief and humor laced my chuckle.

She’s fine. Like she said, she’d tell me if she wasn’t, and I didn’t want to assume I knew her body better than she did. If there was one thing Scarlett couldn’t stand, it was people pitying or babying her. She didn’t need that. Regardless of her physical condition, she was one of the strongest people I knew.

“Then we’ll stay, and I won’t treat you like a porcelain doll.” My lips grazed hers with each word. “I promise, I’ve never imagined doing to dolls the things I’m going to do to you.”

My mouth curved at her sharp intake of breath.

“Turn around,” I said.

She obeyed, and I waited until she’d settled into a comfortable position before I grabbed a loofah from next to the tub and dipped it in the still-warm water. I squeezed it over her shoulders, letting the foam-tipped beads drip down her back, before I rubbed them in with long, languid strokes.

Our conversation tapered into her soft sighs and the gentle splash of water as I worked my way over her body. White sudsy trails trickled down her bare skin, and she looked so beautiful and content sitting there, her limbs heavy with desire, that I could’ve spent the rest of my life doing this.

I’d never bathed anyone before, but the intimacy of it destroyed me more than sex. To have Scarlett trust me enough to take care of her when she was at her most naked and vulnerable…it was a gut punch in the best way possible.

After I finished lathering her back, I ran the hot water again before I moved the loofah around to her front. I glided it up her thighs and over her stomach to her chest. The water lapped against the sides of the tub with every movement, creating a rhythm that was almost hypnotic.

Steam rose from the freshly heated water and curled in lazy tendrils around us. The air was redolent with the scent of lavender and soap, and an aching tension muffled any noises that might’ve bled over from neighboring flats.

In that moment, we were the only people on earth.

However, my languorous exploration of her body came to a brief halt when Scarlett sank deeper against my chest and shifted in a way that rubbed directly over my cock.

Heat raced to my groin.

I gritted my teeth. I was rock-hard, but I forced myself to finish the bath without rushing. When I smoothed the loofah over her breasts, she let out a breathy sigh that made every last drop of blood head south.

“You know exactly what you’re doing, don’t you?” I said roughly. I underscored the question with a nip on her ear.

A shiver rippled through her. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“No?” I ditched the sponge and cupped her breast, giving it a punishing squeeze. “Try again.”

Her shiver intensified into a full-body shudder. “I don’t want you to use the loofah anymore,” she said, her voice thick with desire. “I want you to touch me with your hands.”

“Where do you want me to touch you?” I released her breast and slid my hand over her stomach. It went taut, her muscles quivering from the light caress. “Here?”

She nodded.

“Or here?” I dipped lower to her thighs, parting them so her knees pressed against mine. I couldn’t see through the layer of bubbles, but I could picture her pussy, pink and perfect and wet.

“Yes,” she breathed.

“Maybe you want me to touch here instead.” I trailed my fingers over her inner thigh, my knuckles just grazing her clit.

Scarlett’s whimper amplified the pressure gripping my cock. I hadn’t touched it, but hearing her whine with need was almost enough to make me blow.

My muscles throbbed with pent-up lust. If we hadn’t been sitting, my knees might’ve buckled from the sheer force of my desire, but I took it slow—for now.

“You’re a greedy little thing, aren’t you?” I murmured when she arched her back and tried to press harder against my hand.

Instead of giving in to her insistent squirming, I took my time, my palms mapping every inch of her wet, flushed skin. I dragged them back up over her hips and stomach until I reached her breasts again. They were soft and firm, tipped with diamond-hard nipples that strained for my touch.

I rolled them between my fingers, tugging and pinching until her whimpers escalated into full-out moans. Her hips surged up, seeking friction that the water couldn’t give.

“Please.” Scarlett gripped my wrist and tried to guide my hand down between her legs. “Asher, please.” A sob rent the air when I resisted.

“Patience, darling,” I soothed. My lips grazed the shell of her ear. “Let me play with you first.”

I kept one hand on her breast while the other continued its exploration. She shuddered and panted, so damn responsive that it took everything in me not to haul her into the bedroom and fill her up the way she was begging me to.

There’d be time for that later, after I finished what I’d started.

After an agonizing length of teasing that was as torturous for me as it was for her, I finally brushed her clit with my thumb. She was so on edge that the single, featherlight caress ripped a strangled cry from her throat.

Scarlett bucked against me hard enough to send water splashing over the side of the tub and onto the floor. Her fingers gripped the porcelain edge with bleached-white knuckles, and a series of unintelligible moans filled the room when I stroked her swollen bud.

“Oh, God.” She gasped as my hands pinched and rubbed and squeezed in tandem—one on her breast, the other between her legs. My teeth scored the curve between her neck and shoulder as I fought to keep the leash of my control intact.

My cock was so hard it fucking hurt, but I pushed its demand for attention aside for now.

I increased my pace, loving the sounds of Scarlett’s cries and her body’s response until her body stiffened and she came with a scream.

Her orgasm rolled on and on, its ripples seemingly never-ending as she convulsed from the intensity.

I groaned against her neck, my breathing ragged. I wished I was inside her, feeling her cunt clench around my cock while she flooded me with wet heat, but this wasn’t the place for that, and this wasn’t about me. It was about her.

Eventually, Scarlett’s orgasm subsided, and she slumped against me.

“I think I’ve found a new favorite way to take a bath,” she said, sounding dazed.

Laughter rumbled up my throat. “Mine too.” I wrapped my arms around her waist from behind and pressed a kiss to her shoulder. “We should do this after every day.”

“You won’t hear any arguments from me.” Scarlett hummed with pleasure. “But we’re not finished yet.”

I sucked in a breath when she adjusted her position and sat up straighter so she could grasp me without turning around.

“Is that right?” I drawled. A low buzz filled my ears. I couldn’t see what she was doing, but God, I could feel it. “What else did you have in mind?” My strained voice belied the casual words.

She glanced at me over her shoulder, her gray eyes sparkling with mischief. “More like what I have in hand.”

“Fuck.” The curse slipped out when she squeezed the head of my aching cock. “Scarlett…”

“Yes?” she said innocently.

I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. Every thought emptied when she slid her hands up and down my shaft, her slick palms working in tandem to yank me toward the brink. She let go occasionally to scrape her nails lightly across my balls, but I quickly lost track of her individual movements.

I was too focused on the electric heat gathering at the base of my spine. My muscles turned rigid, and I⁠—

The jarring ring of the doorbell brought a screeching halt to my orgasm. My eyes flew open as the asshole visitor rang the bell again less than a second later and thoroughly killed the moment.

I hissed in aggravation when Scarlett released me fully. Who the fuck was here this late in the evening?

“That must be our takeaway.” She looked like she was trying not to laugh as I glowered at the door. “I’m sorry, baby. I’ll finish taking care of you when I get back. I don’t want you scaring them off.” She arched an eyebrow at the bubbles, which had cleared enough for us to see my still-raging erection beneath the water.

“The delivery guy has the worst timing ever,” I growled. “Zero stars for them.”

A sliver of Scarlett’s laugh escaped. “Don’t be mean.” She climbed carefully out of the tub and belted a thick robe around herself. “I’ll be right back.”

I sank deeper into the tub, cursing past me for thinking takeaway was a good idea. We should’ve ordered it after our bath. That way, I wouldn’t be sitting here with blue balls.

The minutes ticked by. She was taking awfully long for a quick delivery.

Concern cut a path through my grumbles and coalesced into alarm when I heard voices in the living room. Why the hell was the delivery guy in her flat?

I was about to bolt out of the tub when the door opened and Scarlett entered.

My relief sputtered out at the sight of her face. It was the color of parchment. “What happened? Did he⁠—”

“Shhh.” She glanced over her shoulder. When she turned again, her eyes brimmed with fresh panic. “That wasn’t the delivery guy. It was my brother. He’s in the living room.”

A boulder tumbled into my stomach as her words sank in.

Vincent was here, standing less than twenty feet away and separated from us by only two flimsy sets of doors while I was naked in his sister’s bathtub.

Oh, fuck.