Free Playing for Keeps: Harford Scarlet Series by Toria Lyons Page B

different. Besides, junk food’s no good for my training regime but fish is great.’ He patted his ripped stomach with a grin. ‘Mmm, I can see the training is working.’ Sarah saucily appreciated him and lifted her bare foot, running it up to the junction of his thighs where a bulge was swiftly growing.
    Tom’s eyes flared with heat. He tossed his napkin to one side and stood up, leaving his pudding mostly uneaten. ‘I can see the benefit of staying in. Now, I fancy a second dessert in the bedroom. Coming?’
    Sarah’s legs were almost too weak for her to stand at the thought of him consuming her like that. A wicked idea occurred to her. ‘Why don’t I help you finish yours?’ She dabbed a finger in the cream and sucked it slowly, laving the indulgent treat away with her tongue.
    It was too much for him. Tom swiftly picked her up in his arms, grabbed the plate with a free hand, and carried her through to the bedroom. Her giggles were quickly followed by lustful gasps and sighs.
    Sarah tried to keep her eyes from Tom as he stood at the bar, ordering drinks for his teammates. She’d seen him nearly every other day for the past month. They’d slipped into a pattern: him coming to visit her when possible, frequently spending the night wallowing in sensual pleasure. Most Saturdays, Sarah would see him play, watch him scattering the opposition with his powerful runs and drives, knocking them down like skittles when they had the effrontery to actually come near him with the ball. Afterwards, they’d try not to watch each other across various clubhouses, until they left separately and came together at her flat.
    He was particularly demanding if he’d seen her talking to another male, and she revelled in his possessiveness. He’d often have gained scrapes and bruises, and that night, Sarah would attend to them, soothing and kissing the sore parts.
    Besides their physical attraction, she liked his mind, their similar sense of humour when watching programmes on television, his concentration when watching one of the crime investigation series she enjoyed. Occasionally, she would set the record button and playfully distract him so he missed the ending, so that he would need to return to watch it again another time.
    Sometimes they would come together playfully, sometimes fiercely, leisurely or tenderly. As the weeks went by and familiarity increased, his desire for her didn’t seem to decrease. She felt her physical need for him was actually growing; she was addicted to his touch. She also had a sinking feeling that Clare was right: her emotions were far more involved than they should be for a fling, and a dread of the day when they parted began to build in her chest.
    He often took work calls on his mobile. During that time, his whole demeanour changed. His face would harden like on the rugby pitch. His total focus was on the call, with no mercy towards the caller. He issued commands to be obeyed, detailed instructions to be followed when needed, and he asked incisive questions to get to the heart of the issue.
    Sarah found his whole manner fascinating and realised he was as much at home in a boardroom as on the pitch. Even more so, he could concentrate on business matters whereas his knee would sometimes bother him while he was playing: the heavy strapping he wore around it increased with every game.
    They didn’t stay in the flat the whole time. Despite Sarah’s reservations, they went out for quiet meals in out-of-the-way places, took Sunday walks down by the coast. They’d even been to a couple of local club games together.
    One time, she’d sneaked into the changing room after everyone else had gone and he’d taken her on the varnished wooden benches. On another occasion, they had done it with her sitting on his lap in the stands, his body hot, sweaty and muddy from training. They had heard his oblivious teammates singing loudly in the showers as he’d plunged into her, muffling her moans with his mouth,