Fated (2 page)

Sabrina took a deep breath and stepped forward, holding her hand out. "Nice to meet you."

His big, strong hand curled around hers and the heat from before flared back into life, making her stomach dance and her knees threaten to buckle.

"The pleasure is mine." His voice, deep and thick, held loads hidden meaning.

The tips of his ears were flushed red and the heavy staccato of his pulse thumped where she grasped his hand. She'd gotten used to accents in the past few years, but something about the way he spoke made her body tighten with need, reminding her just how long it'd been since she'd had sex. Coach's voice over her shoulder made her jump and she tried to pull her hand from his, but he refused to let it go.

"I want you two to work closely with each other while he's here. I'm sure he's got some strategies that we could work into our game."

Sabrina nodded absently, too rattled by the desire still flooding her body to respond. She jerked her hand free of his and he smiled, ignoring the way she tucked it into her shorts, a blush riding high on her cheekbones.

"We'll talk after practice and discuss some ideas I have. I want to watch you play before I really commit to anything."

"Understood." Sabrina spun on her heel and walked back to where the rest of the team had gathered. "Okay, let's show him what we've got," she called and picked up the net bag lying on the grass and dumping it out, kicking the balls out to the team. "Drills first, then we'll scrimmage, group A against group B."

Sabrina let them run drills for thirty minutes more before she blew the whistle that hung around her neck, gathering the girls together. "Okay, let's scrimmage. We'll run plays six through ten."

The team split into two, and Sabrina joined the group closest to Patrick, taking her position at center. His eyes stayed on her the entire time they were running plays and it made it damn hard to concentrate. Finally, Coach blew his whistle and everyone ran over, surrounding him.

"Great job, ladies! We'll let Patrick and Sabrina talk and then I'm sure she'll have some new plays for you to run tomorrow. Great practice!"

Patrick motioned to Sabrina and she jogged over to where he stood, clipboard in hand. "Let's go down to the other end of the field and talk?"

She nodded, wiping her sweaty palms on her shorts. She found the curve of his ass deliciously distracting and she couldn't seem to concentrate on anything but that as she followed him down the field. Concentrating so fully on his ass, she ploughed right into him, banging her nose on his shoulder when he came to an abrupt stop.

"Are you okay?" He spun around, grabbing her shoulders when she rocked backwards, nearly falling over.

Her cheeks flamed and she cupped her nose in her hand, utterly mortified. "Yeah, wasn't paying attention."

His slow grin had her heart stuttering in her chest and she inhaled sharply, wincing at the sharp pain the action brought.

"So," he said, closing the miniscule distance between them. "After watching you play, I think there's a few ways we can improve your passing, which is one of the things Coach said he'd like me to work on."

"Okay," she said, watching as he held the clipboard flat and began to draw on it. "We ran this play a few years ago and it worked really well to get the ball into the goal without much distraction from the other team." He drew swiftly, tracing the pen along the pattern after he'd put in the positions. Sabrina frowned, reaching up to trace the pattern herself, her sore nose completely forgotten as excitement gathered.

He'd drawn a ballsy plan and nothing like they'd ever used before. "And it worked?"

Patrick grinned and her heartbeat sped up to breakneck speed. Dammit, it was totally unfair for someone to be that fucking attractive!

"Like a charm. Here, let me show you." He turned and dropped the clipboard onto the grass and grabbed the ball from her, tossing it out into the middle of the field. "Come at me."

Sabrina waited a bare second and then moved, trying to get the ball away from him. She succeeded with a well-placed hip and sped down the field, kicking the ball in front of her and trying to watch for him out of the corner of her eye. He came from her left side, knocking her completely off her feet as they got tangled up together. Patrick wrapped his body around hers as they fell, cushioning her landing. They came to a stop with her sprawled atop him, her legs on either side of his waist.

Lifting her head, she glared, completely unprepared for the bolt of heat that shot through her. His eyes were dark, so deep a green she thought she might drown in them. Time slowed to a crawl and she suddenly became hyper-aware of the feeling of him between her legs. Her hand braced on his chest, fingers splayed wide.

He held her loosely, two big hands on her hips, pushing her down on to the hard bulge of his cock pressing between her thighs. Swallowing hard, she shook her head, a cascade of auburn hair falling down around her shoulders, framing her face as the pony tail holder pulling it back broke.

His gaze locked onto her lips and the thick ridge grew bigger beneath her when she swiped her tongue across her lips. She couldn't seem to drag enough air into her lungs, the intensity in his gaze spearing right through her, coiling tightly in her stomach and then settling lower, liquid heat pooling at her center.

"Patrick." Her voice sounded unsteady, filled with a million questions.

He shook his head just slightly, his big body shifting beneath her, sending another wave of dizzying pleasure spiraling through her. "Shh, just feel," he whispered and his hand rose, drifting up her side, ghosting just barely above the tight tank top she wore.

The warmth radiating off of his skin made her shiver, her nipples pressing tightly against the soft cotton of her shirt, drawing his gaze like a beacon. Her chest rose and fell rapidly and she wanted him to touch her so badly she could taste it.

One thought pulsed in her head.
Mine.

Her hand flexed and the muscles beneath it tensed at her touch, a harsh groan ripping from his throat. Sabrina's eyes widened when his hips raised, the sodden material of her panties brushing against her sensitive skin.

"Oh!" A soft gasp escaped when he shifted once more.

Her body knew him, responded to him like he'd touched her a thousand times before. He belonged to her and she to him.
Mine.

A feral smile split his face and his hand tightened on her hip, his fingers spreading out over the curve of her ass, pulling her closer. His other hand settled heavily on her shoulder, drawing her down. The moment felt endless, stretching out so slowly it felt like an eternity before his lips touched hers, just barely grazing, their breaths mingling. Sabrina closed her eyes, waiting for him to kiss her again.

Patrick cleared his throat; he shook her gently, pressing her back. "Sabrina, get up."

Her eyes snapped open and she recoiled, staring at him in confusion. "What… what's wrong?"

He pushed her lightly over to sit on the grass and stood up, not quite looking at her when he adjusted his loose shorts. She could see the outline of his cock, so she hadn't been imagining him wanting her, right?

"Nothing." He cursed lightly under his breath, jamming his hands into his pockets. "Look, it's not you, okay? I just… we shouldn't be doing this. I'm your coach." He turned on his heel and walked over to the clipboard, picking it up from the ground. "I'll drop a list of plays off to you in the morning, okay?"

"Dammit," Sabrina said, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. "Stop it, Sabrina! It's a job, a damn good job and you need the money!" She moved back to the desk and lifted the phone off the floor, punching in Marv's number. When he answered, she spoke rapidly. "This is Grady, I'll take the job."

"Excellent, doll face, I knew this one was perfect for you. I'll have the contract messengered over right away, just sign it and I'll get the ball rolling. I need the acceptance back by noon tomorrow so they can set up the advance."

"Thanks again, Marv."

"Anytime, doll face, you're the best hack in the stable," he said, cackling at his terrible joke before he disconnected.

She opened a new browser window and typed in her favorite search engine's URL. When it loaded, she typed Patrick D. Mason into the search box and hit enter. Choosing images, she waited impatiently as the screen refreshed, thousands of pictures filling her monitor. She chose one at random and maximized it. Green eyes that still haunted her dreams stared back. The picture had recent date stamp, from some charity ball last week. He had a woman on his arm, one of the petite, perfectly coiffed creatures she'd seen him with time and again. Women who looked nothing like her. They never did, and she didn't know if the difference made her angry or just sad.

She picked up the phone again, quickly dialing the number she knew by heart.

"Ronnie speaking, talk to me."

"Hey, it's me," Sabrina said, clicking on another picture. This one of him playing and she stared at the thick muscles in his legs.

"What's wrong?" Ronnie asked.

"Huh? Nothing," Sabrina said absently, opening yet another image, a publicity shot with him holding a ball and smiling at the camera.

"Close the window, Bri."

"What? How did you know?"

"Am I not your best friend?" Ronnie demanded.

"Yes," Sabrina said softly, still staring at the pictures.

"Close it, Bri. It won't make you feel any better."

"You're right," Sabrina said, clicking the window closed. The pictures vanished, but the empty, hollow feeling in the pit of her stomach remained. "I'm coming over."

"When?"

"Probably in a week or so," Sabrina said, pulling up her calendar to check the dates once more. "I'm writing an article about Solstice celebrations in Avebury."

"Okay, you'll be in Wales, I can swing that. I've got loads of vacay, I'll take a week or so and trail around with you, keep you from moping too much."

"I hate you."

Ronnie laughed. "No you don't, you silly bint! You love me and you know it!"

"You're right, I do love you and I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Probably moon over that blighter Mason even more than you do. Honestly, love, don't you think it's time you moved on?"

"I'm trying to, Ronnie, really I am."

"Well, moping over pictures of him isn't helping. We're going to do something about this dateless state you've got going on when you get here, so plan on coming up to London as well. I'll call Lorelei and Ivy and we'll paint the town so many shades of red it'll take them years to recover."

The four of them had been notorious back in college, always finding new ways to get into trouble, usually with Ronnie leading the way. She'd missed that after moving back to the States, never finding the closeness she had with Ronnie and the other girls in the friends she'd made here.

"Yes ma'am," Sabrina said, laughing. "I'll email you my flight details once they're set."

"Cheerio, love, can't wait to see you again!"

Chapter Two

Sabrina leaned back in the too small seat of coach class and sighed. The flight would be endless, especially since she couldn't seem to get comfortable. From the day Marv had called with the job, she hadn't been able to sleep longer than a few hours, her dreams featuring the bits and pieces of her failed relationship with Patrick in a never ending kaleidoscope. It'd started so innocently, and then quickly spiraled out of control until she didn't know if she was coming or going. Her heart had been left in tatters, and even now, five years later, she still couldn't get over him and move on. She'd never in her life been with someone she'd felt so absolutely certain belonged to her and her alone. The depth of emotion he'd aroused in her had scared her and exhilarated her all at the same time. Leaning her head back against the cracked leather, she closed her eyes and sank down into the memories.

An arm shot out, pulling her into a deep alcove. A heavy hand settling against her mouth captured her startled shriek and a big, warm body pressed against her.

"You can't run from me, Princess," Patrick said softly.

Sabrina opened her lips just slightly, biting down on the thick expanse of skin between his thumb and index finger.

He cursed, but didn't remove his hand. "Careful, sweets, I like to play rough." His voice felt like thick, warm honey, sliding over her, making her knees weak and her stomach feel like a yo-yo on a string, bouncing up and down with each flick of his eyes over her.

Her eyes dilated and heat flooded her body. Bending closer, he wrapped his lips around her ear lobe, his breath hot fanning her ear. Biting down gently, his slid his hand up her side, ghosting over the curve of her breast.

Her body throbbed, moist heat centering between her thighs. If the wall hadn't been behind her back, she'd have surely fallen at his feet by now, her knees wobbly as a newborn colt's.

"You like it when I touch you, don't you, Princess?" he rasped against the skin of her neck, teeth grazing the sensitive area. His fingers were busy, unfastening the buttons on her shirt

Dammit, every time he called her Princess, it stirred some deep, primal need within her, like she'd heard it before and liked it.