Chris covers her mouth to hide her chuckles.
Alex and Chris sit in the back of the car because
they can’t keep their hands off each other, or their
mouths and lips for that matter. Dex pulls out of the
parking space with a shrug. He has to look in the
mirror, and the couple in the back seat barely
notice. They break off, resting their foreheads
against each other.
“Does it hurt?” Alex places his hand on Chris’s
waist.
She shakes her head. “It’s still a little tender, but
I’m fine.”
Alex rubs the back of Chris’s head and slides his
hand down to her neck. He attacks her mouth again
with his teeth and lips. Alex wants to taste, to
savour, to binge on every sense of Chris-goodness.
Chris opens her mouth and lets Alex invade her
with his tongue; they want more and more of each
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other, like two kids who have been deprived of
sweets for far too long.
Alex catches Coach’s smile in the rear-view
mirror. To Coach, Alex must seem the most content
man on earth right now, despite the circumstances.
The recall, the comeback tour that got cancelled and
Sam Taylor’s lingering threat all pale into
insignificance.
When Chris and Alex break apart for another
brief moment, Dex laughs at them. “Come on. Let
me concentrate so I can take you two home and you
can carry on in the bedroom!”
Alex grins and Chris blushes.
Dex leaves them alone as soon as he delivers
them back at their apartment. Alex and Chris walk
up the stairs hand in hand, breathless for no good
reason. Chris leads Alex to her room.
Alex cups Chris’s face in his hands. “Wait a
minute. I need to wash the prison off me.” At the
mention of Alex in jail, tears fill Chris’s eyes.
When Alex returns to her room, she’s sitting on
the bed in a thong and is almost done taking off her
make-up. He remembers not so long ago, before the
nightmare of the last month, he had asked her
permission to have sex.
Alex sits on the edge of the bed. “Chris, I’m so
sorry.”
She puts her face cream away and gazes at Alex in
surprise. “What for?”
“Everything.” He extends his hand. “Come here.
Please.”
Chris does and sits cross-legged, facing Alex.
Alex touches the wound on her waist—a dark
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shape that doesn’t look sore anymore, but she’s
going to have it as a permanent reminder of that
horrific night.
“It’s all my fault. My past, my crimes. How can
you ask me why?”
Chris cocks her head and blinks. “But without
your past, I wouldn’t have met you.”
The simple logic doesn’t make things right.
“I brought them to you, and you were violated.
I’m not sad at all that I beat Ryan up, but I wasn’t
there when you woke up, and I couldn’t look after
you. For that, I’m very sorry.” Alex brings her close
to him, their chests pressed together, his warm skin
covering Chris.
“Ryan didn’t do it. He didn’t…he didn’t get inside
me.” Her eyes are glittery with tears waiting to fall.
“Still.” Alex would have beaten Ryan up again if
he saw him now. “Why did you do it? Why did you
put yourself between the bullet and me?”
“It was a split-second decision.” Chris frowns as
she thinks back to that day. “I did it for me. I was
stopping Ryan getting what he wanted. He tried to
rape me. At least I could die a heroine or some shit
like that.”
Quieter, she adds, “Fucked up, I know.”
Alex knows that wasn’t completely true, but he
smiles. “Thanks for accidentally saving me.” He
kisses her. “You wouldn’t have done it if it was
someone else, though. You are my heroine.”
Chris looks down, almost coy. “If you say so. I was
more worried about you in jail than my recovery. I
mean, once I knew I’d survived.”
“Chris.” Alex is so overwhelmed by the events of
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the last month that he can’t find the words to
express himself.
Chris winds her slender arms around Alex’s body.
“I missed you so much when I woke up and you
weren’t there, but Annette looked after me some.
Can you believe it? Liam, Ali and Dex came and
helped, too. And Alberto and Dmitri. All these
people around me—I don’t know what I’ve done to
deserve them, but I was fine.”
“They are around because you’re an amazing
person, Chris. I’m still sorry for my role in this.”
Chris rests her head on Alex’s broad shoulder. “Is
that all you’re going to do? Apologise? Hmm?”
Alex kisses her hair. “No. I seem to remember I
was going to get laid that night when the fuck-up
started. What a horrible interruption! So, do you
think…I’m going to get lucky now?”
Chris pushes Alex away, and she smiles, two deep
dimples appearing. Instead of answering, she claims
Alex’s mouth. The kiss is full of hunger and lust, and
it sucks the air out of Alex. Chris removes the towel
from Alex’s waist and marvels at his arousal.
“Alex, you’re so special to me. I don’t know how
to do this. I thought I had the right to use my body
any way I wanted. You’ve given me the real power.
You’ll stay around, won’t you?”
Alex promises, “Of course.”
In one clean move, Chris straddles Alex’s thighs,
pushes him down on the bed and kisses him along
his neck and down his chest. She sucks on his erect
nipples until he moans and then moves her mouth
down the faint line of hair to his groin, burying her
smooth face in Alex’s pubic hair, still damp from the
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shower. She sucks the hell out of Alex’s dark crown.
“Jeez, Chris. Not so quick. You’re gonna hurt
yourself, sweetheart. I want us to enjoy this. I can’t
come yet!” Alex focuses, determined to savour this
magical moment.
Chris looks up, pre-cum smeared around her
mouth. “You look out for my well-being first. That’s
so sweet.”
“Chris, your waist—”
“I don’t care.”
She takes Alex’s cock in her mouth again, all the
way to the back of her throat. It’s been years since
someone deep-throated him, and his vision bursts
with the sudden surge of arousal. “Fuck!” He shifts
to see her face. “Chris, what about you? What do
you need?”
She seems determined to see Alex unravel as
quickly as she can. She reaches out to her bedside
table and yanks the drawer out with such force the
whole thing falls out, revealing numerous packs of
condoms and other supplies.
Alex draws his knees up. Chris removes her
mouth from Alex’s cock only to lick her fingers. She
returns to blowing Alex and inserts her wet finger
into his arsehole. It feels strange and cold at first,
but Chris has already found where he is the most
sensitive. The strokes alongside the rhythm of
Chris’s teasing are giving Alex brand-new
sensations.
She releases him for a moment. “Alex, I need you
to fuck me. It’s been a long time coming. I’m very
horny.” She looks at him with such intensity, her
turquoise eyes seem ablaze in the chill of the room.
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She tears open the condom and sheathes Alex
quickly, then she spreads lube everywhere. She lies
down on her right side and draws up her knees.
Alex stares at Chris’s perfect arse and then cups it
in his hands and pulls her back. Aligning the tip of
his dick, he pushes in. Alex has always enjoyed anal,
but he can’t believe how Chris feels as she yields,
pushing back, engulfing him and tightening around
his erection. Alex’s right hand holds the back of
Chris’s head, while his left steadies himself on
Chris’s left shoulder.
“Is this okay?” he asks, knowing his own size and
strength, and worrying about Chris’s wound.
Chris squeezes around his cock as an answer. “’S
more than okay.”
Alex starts to thrust. He doesn’t want to hurt
Chris, but her incoherent moans are too sexy and he
loses himself as he picks up speed. When he shifts,
he hits Chris’s sensitive spot, enough for her to
shout out, “Faster, harder. Don’t fucking stop.”
Alex complies, pulling out and pushing back in at
the same spot. Chris rocks back at the same time.
Soon the two of them are moving the bed, its
headboard knocking against the wall. Chris grabs
Alex’s hand to cover hers, and they milk Chris’s cock
in unison. Their hips dance, smooth and graceful at
first. Alex can’t shift easily, but it’s okay; he needs to
be gentle. Chris starts to clench around him, her
movements soon becoming wilder and more
sensual. Then she erupts and arches back like a last
jump before collapsing in Alex’s embrace in a
boneless form.
“Do you want me to come, Chris? I don’t have to.”
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Chris mumbles, “Yes.”
Alex resumes. Within seconds, he feels the build-
up of the tingling feeling in his balls. He yells and
thrusts until he sees stars bursting. The waves come
more intensely as he shouts like an animal, primal
and frenzied, screaming for the plateau.
Sex felt different before when he was with Sam or
other partners. Alex used to play the active role in
bed, while Chris and Alex are equal, neither
dominating the other.
Their breathing rhymes as if they are playing a
finale before it eventually slows to a murmur.
Alex withdraws and takes off the condom. “I hope
I didn’t hurt you.”
Chris turns around and hooks her leg over Alex’s.
“I feel a tug, but the wound shouldn’t tear open
now. You made such sweet love to me.”
Alex sighs. “It was sweet. Different.”
Chris looks at him intently. “I hope it’s a good
difference. I mean, I don’t know how this goes…”
Alex frowns. “What do you mean? I’m not being…
but you’re the professional here?”
Chris’s
laughter
betrays
bitterness
and
uncertainty. “Yeah, I can do it on the job. I do it
with my hookups, but sex is a series of physical
actions and reactions. It’s disappointing like my life.
I liked that I didn't have to have high expectations
of my sexual partners, and they didn’t think much
of me other than what I could deliver because I did
it with everyone, right? I might be a confident
performer, but sex meant little for me. So, yeah. My
sense of sexual performance is absolutely screwed.”
Alex
considers
Chris
and
nods
with
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understanding. “Was it a performance?”
“Oh, hell, no!” Chris shakes her head. “No. I tried
very hard not to perform. Was it rubbish?”
Alex smiles. “If that’s rubbish, I’ll happily have
bad sex with you the rest of my life. But…I see
where you’re coming from. Perhaps you’ve been
giving too much in bed. Clue me in so I know how to
make you feel good, okay?”
“Okay.” Chris beams.
Alex leans in to claim her mouth again, his palm
holding her close, his lips chasing hers. Chris gives.
Their tongues circle each other and twist as if
they’re resuming the dance. They snake around
each other until they run out of air.
Chris breaks away and considers all of Alex,
naked and true. “You have a boxer’s body and a
fighter’s mind. You’re so beautiful, Alex Whale.”
Few people see Alex’s harsh lines, brokenness and
loyalty as beauty. Only Chris.
~~~
There is a time when lovers are discovering each
other’s bodies and they want to navigate every
contour and fold, reading them as if drawn on a
map.
The scar is a faded line, across Alex’s cheekbone.
Chris touches it, her finger feather-light on his
rough skin. She moves the tip across to the small
kink on the bridge of Alex’s nose that mesmerises
her; she touches the scar, and Alex shudders and
closes his eyes.
“Where did the scar come from?” she asks.
Alex inhales deeply. “The accident.”
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Alex opens his eyes.
“I haven’t… The police took a statement from me
when I was supposed to be sober and calm enough.
I
was
prescribed
medication
for
PTSD—
tranquillisers
first,
then
sleeping
pills,
antidepressants. The judge ordered an injunction
against the media reportage of some of the details.”
Alex hesitates.
He picks up Chris’s hand. “You risked your life for
me, so I owe you the truth. If I tell you, you’ll think
I’m a worse person than you could ever imagine.”
Chris kisses him. “I won’t. You see, people think
certain things about me, but no one gets me more
than you do. I want to know everything about you,
Alex. I don’t believe you’re capable of truly ugly
things because I’ve found beauty in you. Anyway,
I’m used to pretty people and nice things that are
rotten inside. You’re kinda the opposite.”
Alex swallows. Silence stretches while he gathers
the words.
Fortifying himself with a deep breath, he
begins,
“I didn’t only kill Sam and the other driver that
night, Chris.”
Chris’s turquoise eyes dilate. “What do you
mean?”
Alex shakes his head again and squeezes the
bridge of his nose. He sighs. Chris holds on to his
hand, refusing to let go while Alex recites his
nightmare.
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CHAPTER 15
WHITE
I TOLD MYSELF I wouldn’t fall into the same trap as
other successful athletes and celebrities. The
lifestyle of being away from home, training hard,
then playing hard. But I did. I came from a family of
drunks, and I hated myself for drinking and taking
party drugs. I had to be careful because of the drug
tests. I took cocaine and amphetamines because I
knew how they worked and when they’d be out of
my system. I’d had plenty of sex with starlets and
models that I now regret.
Sam snorted coke too, with a habit much worse
than mine since she didn’t need to worry about
being busted. I was out of touch with what she did
while I stayed in London and trained.
I was home in Essex during a three-week break
and we argued a lot about stupid little things like
another car or something for the house or whatever
she wanted to spend my hard-earned money on.
Sam had a go at me for the phone calls I was
receiving on my mobile.
Who the fuck was it? You’d better not be keeping
a mistress up in London.
There were women but never a mistress. Despite
everything, I loved her with all my heart. We grew
up together, and there was no one who could ever
replace Sam for me. I knew I shouldn’t be unfaithful
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to her, but I justified it by the fact that I loved only
her, so everyone else was there to scratch an itch. I
felt like a real bastard while trying to stay on top of
my game and providing for her and my family. We
argued and argued, had fights when we were drunk
and drugged up.
That day, she got high and she was mad at me for
something. I had tuned out because the arguments
were always the same. I went to my home gym and
worked out. Sam came in and she was furious like a
big black cloud had descended on her. She tore at
my clothes and said I didn’t touch her anymore. I
did. We’d had sex a couple of times since I came
home: angry, make-up sex rather than something
between two people who love each other. She was
bawling her eyes out, telling me I had stopped
loving her. It wasn’t true.