Pisces (The Erotic Zodiac Book 3) (3 page)

She shook her head, feeling a pang of guilt at how hopeful his look was. "No, I've got to cover the gymnastics events. My editor will kill me if I don't do a couple of in-depth pieces about the Russian team this year, considering how good they are."

Thomas nodded, looking hurt. "Then have dinner with me afterward. We can do a victory celebration together."

"By victory celebration, do you mean more sex?"

A grin reappeared on his face. "Dinner first. Meet me outside the main square in the athlete village as soon as you can."

Amara nodded, her heart beginning to beat wildly again. Hooking up was one thing. However, Thomas was suggesting something that sounded suspiciously like a date. Afterall, dinner was romantic and had the danger of allowing feelings to develop. As they were thrown together for only a short time, she worried that perhaps she was going to fall for him much too fast and much too hard.

T
he next night
, long after the race was over, the cameras were off, and the stadium was empty, Thomas and Amara met in the athlete’s village. Amara greeting him shyly, but he scooped her up and spun her around, making her forget any hesitation. They made their way back to her room holding hands and laughing together. They ordered pasta from room service, as well as a bottle of red wine, and settled down on the small couch that took up half the room. They were celebrating, because - once again - Thomas had won his heat. The semi-finals were over, and he would be racing for the gold medal in less than twenty-four hours.

It felt like a normal date, which surprised Amara. It wasn't every day she went out with a man built like a Greek god, who just happened to also be one race away from winning Olympic gold. It also wasn't every day she was sleeping with a man who could make her scream like a banshee or make her laugh with his dirty jokes. Nothing about Thomas was ‘normal’ or ‘everyday,’ and she wasn’t sure how to feel about it.

As they ate their food, he told her about his childhood and how he fell into swimming. "I was a total jerk in high school, and my mom said I had to join the swim team to stay out of trouble or she was going to take away my car," he chuckled. "Not that you'd believe I was trouble, right?"

For her part, Amara told him about feeling pressure from her professor parents to attend graduate school. But, eventually she ended up deciding journalism was right for her. "I think they are still upset with me," she said ruefully, pouring more wine. “They wanted me to be a professor of English at some Ivy League school.”

Their conversation was deep and introspective, and Amara felt a load lifting off her shoulders as she told him things she never discussed. It didn't feel right to keep anything from him, not even when they barely knew each other. Something about him already seemed like she could feel at home with him, able to bare her soul.

"Can I tell you something?" he said at last, putting down his plate and turning to face her fully. His face was serious, the sharpness of his jaw highlighted in the room's dim light.

"Sure. I'm assuming off the record?"

"Just between us. This is definitely not something for you to include in your article about me."

Amara nodded. She took secrecy seriously as a reporter and had never betrayed someone's confidence. She couldn't imagine doing that to anyone, let alone Thomas when he was looking at her with such trust.

He huffed quietly, reaching out to grab her hand. His fingers dwarfed her own, and she smiled at the contrast between his pale rose quartz skin and her own brown topaz.

"I'm nervous about the race tomorrow. I've blown it before, and I can't keep throwing away opportunities. This might be my last Olympics. I'll get older, slower, maybe injured. I feel like I have to do this right now, right here." He ran his thumb across the back of her hand thoughtfully. "I've always told myself it’s ok if I goof off, or mess up, because I'll always have another chance, or that I can fix it later. But maybe I'm getting too grown up for that now.”

Amara nodded, not wanting to interrupt his train of thought. She just sat quietly, letting him sort through the difficult emotions in his mind.

After a long pause he continued, "You’re the only person who can help me, it seems. Being with you takes the buzz away and helps me to concentrate. Please, can I stay tonight?"

Amara looked at the handsome man before her, opening himself up in such a humble way. She didn't know why she, out of anyone else in the world, helped him. She didn't doubt his words, however. There was something between them, something intense and magical that happened when they came together. She had no idea if it would last, or if she should have any expectations of hearing from him again once the gold was around Thomas’s neck. But she did know that right then, right there, she wanted his body to touch hers.

She stood up, standing confidently in front of him. Holding his gaze, she reached behind to grasp the zipper of her skirt, slowly sliding it down. The fabric fell away from her hips, forming a puddle on the floor. She began to unbutton her shirt, slowly undoing each pearl, letting more of her cleavage show.

By the time she pushed the shirt off of her shoulders, leaving her in only a black cotton thong and white bra, Thomas was on his feet. He pulled off his shirt in a single movement and threw it onto the couch forcefully.

"Baby, we're going slow tonight," he said, stalking close to her and cupping her face in his big hands.

They kissed slowly and passionately as he put a hand on the back of each of her thighs. Hoisting her up, he carried her across the room to the king size bed. Finally breaking their embrace, he laid her down tenderly onto the soft mattress before covering her body with his own.

She ran her nails down his bare back, arching her chest upward as he began to suck along her neck. His teeth grazing her hot skin made her buck into him, and she moaned his name softly as she felt all the tension in her body melt. The rest of the world shrank away; there was only the two of them, locked together.

He stood to strip off his pants and boxers, towering before the bed like a statue of a long-lost god. His every muscle stood out in the dim light, the shadows highlighting the curves and lines in his sculpted abdomen. He looked beautiful before her, masculine and powerful with his cock already standing at attention.

"I want to see all of you," he whispered.

They had fucked twice now, but it had always been rushed, with their clothes half on. Having him demand to see her, every inch of her, was startling in its intimacy. The atmosphere of the room was heavy, lacking the animalistic power of their earlier merging. Instead, it seemed solemn and momentous.

"Go on; don't be shy," he pushed, his eyes roving up and down her body. "Show me."

She quickly slid down the thong and unhooked her bra, throwing both off the bed. Her breath caught, and her stomach flopped as she exposed herself. The vulnerability was exciting, terrifying, and everything in between.

She ran her hands over her body, kneading her breasts before sliding down to her stomach. Her legs fell open slightly, exposing her wetness to him. Before she had a chance to go much further, Thomas was back on the bed, pulling her legs further apart.

"Dear god, you are so fucking beautiful," he sighed, taking in her dark folds with a hungry look.

He didn't dive directly between her legs, however. Instead, he started at her breasts, licking and sucking on her nipples. He rolled each nub with his tongue until it was hard, then kissed down her chest to her petite belly button.

As he nibbled on the soft flesh of her belly, she writhed under him. She ran her hands through his short hair, encouraging him to go further. Her core was aching, needing his touch. It was if something was missing inside of her, and only he could provide the key to solving her pain.

Down, down he kissed, scrapping his teeth carefully along her shaved mound. When he reached her puffy lips, he looked up briefly, grinning naughtily at her. Then he launched himself at her pussy, licking up and down her wet slit. His tongue teased her hole, before sliding back up to circle her clit.

"Thomas!" she squealed, her hips lifting off the bed.

He used the opportunity to put his hands on her ass, giving him more control over her bucking hips. "I love when you say my name," he groaned, his voice muffled by her mound.

As he licked and sucked on her sensitive lips like a starving man, Amara ground her face against him. She could feel her climax roaring from deep inside her, and she could only cling to the covers as it began to overtake her body. She moaned his name deeply as she came, her legs spasming around his head.

As soon as her first spike of pleasure was over, Thomas crawled up her body. He positioned his shaft at her entrance before putting a hand on each side of her head. He looked into her eyes as his cock teased her slick opening, which was still convulsing with aftershocks from her orgasm.

"Tell me you want it," he commanded, pushing his hips ever so slightly forward.

"Please," she begged. "I need you."

He growled deeply while pushing himself fully inside of her, making her gasp at he stretched her open. She wrapped her legs around his hips and offered herself to him fully. There was nothing more in the world that could have improved that moment – she had everything she wanted with her legs around him.

As he set up a steady rhythm inside of her, Amara couldn't help but think how perfectly he fit her. Their bodies were comfortable with each other, and their fucking had an unhurried, relaxed quality to it. It was just a slow, passionate coupling that made them both shudder and call out the other's name.

As their crescendo built, Thomas kissed her hard. She could taste her own tangy flavor on his lips, and his mouth was hot with desire. When their lips broke apart, he put his forehead against hers. They stayed like that as he pushed as far into her as he could, his cock pressing against her deepest walls.

She came first, seeing stars as she rolled her hips against his. Thomas followed immediately after, emptying himself into her with a gasp. They stayed like that afterwards, their limbs tangled as they drifted off to a deep sleep.

D
aylight was just peeking
in the window when Amara opened her eyes. The alarm clock read five a.m., and she rolled over sleepily, blinking her eyes. Thomas was next to the bed, already halfway dressed. He looked freshly showered and smelled delicious as he bent to give her a kiss on the shoulder.

"Morning," he said, a wide smile on his face.

She smiled in response and stretched her arms up with a satisfied purr. "Off to the gym?"

"Yeah, I want to get quite a bit of time with Coach this morning before the race."

"Are you nervous?"

He looked down at her and shook his head. "No, actually. I feel on top of the world. Thanks to your help." He ran a hand tenderly along her face before grabbing his shirt off the floor and slipping it on. "Will you come watch the race today?"

“My editor has already arranged it. He wants the inside scoop when Thomas Clark becomes the gold medalist we all know he can be."

"Still writing that story about me, eh?" Thomas teased, now slipping on his shoes.

"Don't worry. I'll leave all the juicy parts out."

She spoke playfully, but part of her was aching as she watched him get ready to go. Their relationship felt special and magical, but she didn't know how much of that was real and how much of that had to do with the excitement of the Olympics. She wasn't sure what would happen between them, if anything, once he walked out that door.

"Would you go as my guest to the race? I know you have a press pass, but I can give you a ticket for my cheering section. I'd like you to be there."

She nodded. "Of course, just leave the ticket for me with the hotel desk."

"Thank you," he said earnestly. "It'll be the final way you can help me."

Then he stood up and said his goodbyes before rushing from the room. Everything immediately felt colder without him, and Amara hugged the blankets around her body. She wasn't sure what he had meant by "final," but she had the sinking feeling that perhaps she had fallen for him more than he had for her.

A
mara clenched
her hands in her lap, her heart beating wildly. She couldn't remember a time she had been this nervous. Interviewing for her first job? Piece of cake. Her first TV interview? She had been flawless. Watching the race of a guy who she had just met? Apparently, that was what made her fall to pieces.

"Five minutes until race time," boomed the loud speaker.

She could see the swimmers lining up, and her gut twisted. Thomas looked so handsome standing by his coach. Especially when it came to the tiny blue speedo that was barely covering his junk. Amara took a long glance at the bulge before trying to focus on the race preparations.

"Who are you rooting for, dear?" an older woman next to her asked softly. The lady had shortly cropped grey hair and a kind expression on her face.

"Thomas Clark," Amara replied, trying to plaster a smile on her face. "I really hope he gets the gold!"

"Oh, Thomas gave you a ticket?" The lady got a slight smile on her face. "I'm happy to meet any friend of his. I'm his mother, Margaret. Do you help him train?"

Blood rushed to Amara's face, and she stuttered trying to reply. Thomas had given her a ticket next to his mother? Sure, maybe he only got so many 'friends and family' seats, but did he really think it was a good idea to put his hook-up next to his mom? If the poor woman only knew that Amara was indeed helping Thomas train: by riding his dick like a madwoman.

The more Amara floundered in making a reply, the wider Margaret grinned. She eventually reached out and patted Amara's knee in a kindly way. "Ah, I see you are more than just a friend. Well, that makes me especially glad to meet you. Thomas hasn't let me meet a girlfriend of his in ages."

Amara was saved from having to explain anything further about her complicated relationship with Thomas by the official blowing a whistle. The swimmers quickly made their way to their starting blocks. Thomas looked completely at ease as he swung his arms wide a few times, loosening up his muscles. He shot a last look into the crowd, his eyes zeroing in on Amara for just a second.

His look shot straight to her heart, and she almost gasped out loud as his gaze raked over her body. How a single man's gaze, in a crowded room in front of a thousand people, could make her feel so incredibly beautiful - and also naked - was a mystery. But once again, his charisma swept her off her feet.

Thomas and the other swimmers then crouched down into their starting positions. The whole room held its breath, the walls dripping with heat and anxiety. There was a long moment of silence; then the buzzer sounded, and they were off.

Amara lost herself in the excitement. She was on her feet screaming until her lungs ached as Thomas flew through the water. Right beside her, Margaret was doing the same, and soon both women were jumping up and down in excitement as Thomas took the lead. The seconds flew by as he dominated the competition, easily outpacing them with his wide, powerful strokes.

Margaret reached over to clutch Amara's hand as he neared the finish line. Together, they yelled wildly as Thomas hit the wall, claiming the gold. As Amara looked over at Margaret, she noticed tears streaming down the older woman's face. Only then did the reporter realize she was crying too.

As the swimmers began to get out of the pool, Margaret gave Amara a big hug. "Let's go backstage; they'll let us meet with him there shortly before the medal ceremony."

"Do you think they'll let me back there? I'm not family. In fact, I’m technically supposed to be in the press area right now. Maybe you should go alone."

Margaret set her face firmly, and Amara suddenly realized where Thomas got his determination and drive. "Nonsense. They wouldn't dare say no. Besides, he'll want you there. You are his lucky charm it seems."

Amara allowed herself to be led away by the feisty older woman, still apprehensive. Would Thomas want to see her? They had a magnetic attraction, sure. But this was one of the biggest moments of his life. She felt like an imposter forcing her way into a sacred situation. In her mind, there was no way that he'd care one way or another if she was present when he got the medal.

Those doubts melted away as soon as she walked into the greeting area.

Thomas, looking remarkably fresh for a man who had just won an Olympic gold medal, whooped happily as soon as Amara and Margaret entered the room. He quickly crossed the space between them, mowing down everyone in his path, to give his mother a quick hug. Then he picked up Amara and swung her around, planting a huge kiss on her lips.

"My favorite training buddy," he yelled out, before placing her feet back on the ground.

"You are ridiculous. You know I've done nothing to help you train," she said, giving his chest a playful shove. "But congratulations. You earned this, and it was amazing to watch!"

"No, you've done more to help me than you could know," he said so quietly that only she could hear. "And once I'm done with all the official congratulating, I plan to come to your hotel room and do some very unofficial celebrating, if you know what I mean. Wait up for me."

She could only nod before a troop of handlers appeared and whisked him away, no doubt leading him towards the podium. Her body trembled at the thought of the 'celebrating' they were going to do that night. But her heart also ached a bit, knowing it was probably the last time they'd see each other.

L
ater that night
, Amara sat crossed legged on her hotel bed, an empty pizza box next to her. Her makeup had long been taken off, and she wore only a small pair of white gym shorts and a black tank top. The TV droned mindlessly in the background, images of smiling athletes flashing by.

She'd spent the last two hours writing up short articles for her boss, highlighting the day's events. After writing about wrestling, gymnastics and archery, she had just one left to type up - the story of Thomas’ win. However, no matter how long she stared at her laptop, the words refused to write themselves.

"Damn, what do I even say? 'Thomas Clark wins gold in the 400-meter freestyle. Also wins first place in having an amazing cock.' Yeah, that'll go over super well with my readers.”

Amara rubbed her eyes exhaustedly. She had stayed up well past midnight hoping Thomas would arrive like promised, but there had been no sign of him. Not that she blamed him - he was probably having the night of his life drinking champagne down at the athlete's exclusive bar.

"He doesn't owe me anything. We barely know each other, so I shouldn't expect him to come up here and give me some tearful goodbye," she mumbled.

She didn't even know if she wanted an emotional farewell. Thomas had gotten under her skin, making her brain feel fuzzy. His brashness, his cocky banter, his enthusiasm about pretty much everything - she liked it all. She was falling for him, and she was afraid of what she might say he if showed up at her door.

"May as well give up. He isn’t coming.”

She knocked the pizza box off the bed, got under the covers, and put out the light. She stared up at the dark ceiling, trying not to think about Thomas. She was failing terribly.

KNOCK. KNOCK.

She looked towards the door, her eyebrows raised in surprise. Apprehension doubled in her stomach - he was out there, wanting to see her. He might break her heart with a single word. Would it be better to just ignore him and try to forget they ever met?

KNOC.K KNOCK.

"Come on Amara, I know you are in there," came Thomas' voice, slightly slurred.

Reluctantly, she pulled herself out from her safe cocoon and made the trek to the door. Taking a deep breath, she swung open the door and found herself face to face with Thomas. They stood locked in place for a second, his eyes drinking her up piece by piece, and her staring at him in fear.

"You are too beautiful for words," he said at last, reaching out to grab her around the waist.

"Thomas," she said, her voice quivering between reproachful and thankful.

Her insides were a mess, and she knew he could sense it. He looked at her with concern, his grey eyes soft and tender. The super star, world-class champion was gone. Before her was just Thomas, a guy with his hands on her waist and her name on his lips.

"Did you really think I would introduce you to my mom if I had any intention of letting you go?" he said at last.

Before she could protest, he bent to kiss her, his lips crushing hers. He was hot, needy, and tasted like beer. His hands roamed over her with abandon, and she melted into him. As their tongues touched, she felt like her soul was reaching out to his. There was lightning between them, just like always, but this time, it felt like they were both acknowledging what it meant.

When they at last broke apart, Thomas gave her one of his sly grins. "Amara, when I want something I make it happen. I will go to the ends of the earth to make a dream come true. I have the self-discipline to break myself if needed, to work until exhaustion to get what I want. And what I want is you."

"Are you sure?" Her voice was high pitched to her own ear, and she knew she was about to start crying.

"Yes, since the moment I laid eyes on you. And not just because you are fucking gorgeous. You had this sarcastic wittiness I immediately loved, and I knew I wouldn't be too much for you. I can be hard to handle; half of what the papers say about me are true. But you let me know your mind and don't sugarcoat things. You bring me down to earth and help me focus."

"But what if that changes? It's all so new..."

"You feel it, don't you?"

She was silent for a moment, then nodded seriously. "I do."

"I don't know what is bringing us together, but I don't think it is going to change. I'm an adrenaline junky - I live on the edge. I know all about risks and danger, and you aren't a risk – you’re this undeniable force that I need in my life. So, tell me you're mine. Or tell me you're not, and I'll prepare to spend the next fifty years trying to change your mind."

Amara ran her hands up his chest and smiled. Her former apprehension was gone. All she felt was a warm glow, spreading outward from her chest and consuming everything in its path. Thomas was right - whatever was happening between them felt inevitable, unbreakable.

"Take me to bed, Mr. Champion. I'm yours," she said at last.