and steering her out into the quieter corridor that housed the toilets and an entrance that led to the bar’s outdoor terrace area.
‘What are you doing?’ Amber asked, taking a few seconds to register just what it was that was happening. That’d teach her to down champagne too quickly. She’d only had two glasses, but it was enough to make her reflexes slower and her judgement that little bit clouded.
‘Look, when I first met you yesterday I really didn’t like you. I mean, you’re this great-looking woman, but your attitude was crap…’
‘Excuse me? My attitude was crap? And which charm school did you graduate from? I’ve got to get back to Ronnie…’
‘No, hang on, Amber…’ He reached out to grab her arm again, swinging her back round to face him.
‘What? What do you want from me?’
He looked at her, not exactly sure how to answer that. He wanted to sleep with her, yeah. Of course he did. But, despite the fact he was Ryan Fisher – and if he wanted to sleep with someone then it usually happened – this was a whole different ball game. She wasn’t going to just fall at his feet like the girls he usually went for. He was going to have to work hard to get this one anywhere near his bed, and hard work outside of the football pitch wasn’t something Ryan was keen on. Would she be worth the effort? ‘I just want to get to know you,’ he said, his eyes not leaving hers.
‘Oh. Really.’ Again, it wasn’t a question.
‘Yeah. Really.’
‘You do know I’m a good few years older than you, don’t you?’
Ryan shrugged. ‘So? What’s that got to do with anything?’
Amber narrowed her eyes as she continued to stare at him. ‘So, you’re telling me you’re bored with all the young and pretty football groupies all vying for your attention. You thought you’d try your hand with an older woman instead. Is that it? You’re tired of the wannabe WAGs, huh?’
‘I’m not tired of anything, Amber. I’m not bored of anything and I’m not even thinking too hard about any of this. I just like what I see and I want to find out more. Where’s the harm in that?’
Amber just looked at him for a few more seconds before turning on her red high heels and walking away.
‘Amber! Jesus, come on… Shit!’ Ryan leaned back against the wall and ran a hand through his short, dark hair, closing his eyes for a moment. Under normal circumstances he’d give this up as a bad job and move onto the next one, but two things were different here: one – he’d never had to give anything up as a ‘bad job’ before because nobody had ever walked away from him like she’d just done. And two – he didn’t want to move onto the next one. He wanted Amber Sullivan.
‘Where’ve you been?’ Ronnie asked, looking up as Amber threw herself down on the sofa opposite him.
‘Fending off Ryan Fisher,’ Amber replied, taking her compact out of her make-up bag and checking her face. No, her make-up looked fine – mascara still in the right place, lipstick unsmudged.
‘Huh?’ Ronnie laughed.
Amber snapped her compact shut and looked straight at Ronnie. ‘Do you fancy some really hot sex with no strings attached?’
Ronnie looked around, almost as if he was positive she was talking to someone else and he was trying to see who that person was.
‘Well?’ Amber asked, standing up and sliding her bag up onto her shoulder.
‘Erm, I…’
‘Do you want sex or not, Ronnie? It’s a perfectly simple question. I’m not asking you to marry me or even take me out to dinner, and I know neither of us wants a relationship out of this so, hot sex, no strings. Are you up for it?’
Ronnie stood up, too, holding out his hand. ‘Why the hell not? You only live once.’
Ryan had had enough. He wasn’t really in the mood to hang around any longer, and with training in the morning, and him still with a point to prove at his new club, maybe going back home and getting some rest was the best option. And even though he could easily have gone back out there and picked any woman he wanted to take his mind off Amber Sullivan, he just didn’t feel like it anymore. And that worried him. Was he losing his touch? When had Ryan Fisher not been in the mood for sex? Especially when it was so readily available to him.
Keeping his head down as he pushed his way out of the bar, he took his phone out of his pocket and began texting Gary. He lied, of course. He told him he’d met a girl and was taking her home for fun of the more private kind, when really he was waiting for a taxi to take him back to the huge, empty house the club had stuck him in until he found a place of his own. But Gary and the lads didn’t need to know that. They’d only rib him rotten if they thought he’d joined the ranks of footballers Amber Sullivan had given the brush-off to. He shouldn’t have even bothered trying but all of a sudden Ryan had the ridiculously uncharacteristic urge to take up the challenge Amber had unwittingly offered up.
Never before had Ryan Fisher had to do the chasing, but it looked like, this time, if he wanted something to happen, then he was going to have to start running.
Amber kicked the door shut behind her, hardly having time to take a breath before Ronnie pushed her back against the wall, kissing her hard and deep, his tongue running over the roof of her mouth as their hands pulled at each other’s clothes. Amber had every idea why she suddenly needed to have sex like this – something she hadn’t felt the need to do in a long time – and she also knew that she was using the fact she was having wild and spontaneous sex to forget about that very reason. But who cared? Right now it was time to enjoy what was happening and think about the consequences in the morning. Not that there’d be any consequences. They both knew the score. They were both free agents. They were both in this for a quick release, and nothing else.
Sliding her dress down to the floor, Amber stepped out of it and kicked it away, pulling Ronnie back against her, his mouth covering her neck in soft kisses as his fingers gently ran over her breasts, sending tiny shivers right through her. She’d forgotten how talented this man was at making her feel good. Their brief relationship had been an intense and physical one at the time, in fact, if Amber remembered rightly, they’d spent a hell of a lot of time in bed, which is probably why it had never really gotten off the ground in any other way. That, and the fact that Amber had already made the decision never to get involved with footballers. For a very good reason. What had happened with Ronnie had been a blip, a lapse of concentration on her part, because once that need for almost constant sex had gone, that was when they’d realised they worked better as best friends. Ronnie had gone on to meet and marry Karen, and Amber had thrown herself into her work. In reality, it would have been hard to have had a relationship anyway because, at the time, Ronnie had been playing for a Manchester club and Amber had been based in Newcastle. So best friends it had stayed, and Amber was glad of that because she needed him around as her friend. Which, in a way, made it quite a strange feeling, having him touch her like this after so long, but at the same time, it felt safe and familiar. And that’s what she needed right now. Something safe and familiar.
She gasped out loud as his fingers slid down from her breasts, trailing over her stomach, down to a place he hadn’t been in a long time, but Amber was quite happy to welcome him back, moaning quietly as he touched her gently, his own groans matching hers as the intensity built.
She could feel her heart racing, so fast it was almost making her dizzy. She hadn’t had sex with anyone for so long and it felt good to be able to let go, to have that sweet release, and it felt even better to be sharing it with a man she trusted, rather than some random person she’d picked up just for the hell of it. How Ryan Fisher could possibly get any kind of satisfaction from doing that, she had no idea. Jesus, why was she even thinking about Ryan Fisher? But she knew why. She knew exactly why, and she really didn’t want to think about him, so she pushed him very firmly to the back of her mind, concentrating totally on what was happening