Team Tomás (The Saints Team #2) (2 page)

Chapter 3

“Hello
bella
,” Tomás Carrera said, and leaned
down to kiss me on the cheek. He was breathtakingly beautiful—a chiseled jaw, the
darkest of chocolate-colored eyes, a radiant smile with white teeth that
belonged in a toothpaste commercial, and he rocked a pair of jeans and a T-shirt.
He was strong, but not over-built.

I think I lost the power of speech
and my memory was wiped clean of everything the ladies at the bar just said.

“You look cute,” he said, running
his eyes over my legs and red dress. Even sitting down, I think I had just
appeared naked in his eyes—an amazing skill. I stood up.

“Hey Tomás,” I began to introduce
him to my friends but he gave them a charming smile, grabbed me around my waist
and we were gone.

“Dance floor, come dance with me,
bella
,”
he said holding me so close that I don’t think I walked there. He shuffled into
the packed floor and we swayed together. I didn’t get to show off any of my
great dance moves because I was pressed against him, but it was a small price to
pay. I’m a girl who knows when to make sacrifices.

“Al...iss, Al...iss, Al...iss,” he
said my name with that sexy Spanish accent, smiled and shook his head.

“T... oooo... mmmm…ass...” I
dragged his name out and looked at him suspiciously.

“You haven’t called me,” he said,
with surprise in his voice.

I pulled back the few inches I
could to study and frown at him. He had this teasing, sexy, dejected look on
his face that I just wanted to kiss off.

“Um, I think you’re meant to do
that calling thing,” I said.

He grimaced, as if that was way
too hard. He left one arm around my waist and with the other, removed my hand from
his shoulder and closed his fingers around it. He rocked me against him. I’m
not sure what music was playing, as I was too distracted to notice.

“That’s cute, Al...iss. So very
old fashioned, but it is the twenty-first century,” he said with a small grin.

I loved the way he said Alice—like
the A was so important and it softened off to this sexy ‘lis’ sound at the end.
Ah yeah, focus.

“I’m not old fashioned,” I
protested.

“You just like to be hunted and
you want me to be the hunter?” he asked, with one eyebrow raised.

I got jostled by some over the top
dancer behind me—hmm, I think it was a ploy by Melissa to push me closer to Tomás’s
chest. Tomás didn’t move to straighten me up but I pulled away slightly; I
didn’t want to look like one of his groupie fans. This conversation with Tomás
wasn’t going well. I tried again.

“Do other girls call you?”

He shrugged. “Of course.”

“So you give them your number?” I
put him on the spot.

Tomás grinned and taking his hand
off my waist, he ran it through the shaggy, brown layers of his hair. He
exhaled while he thought of a response. Then that hand found its way to my butt
and rested there. Good response.

I let him off the hook. “Well I
guess I could call, but...”

“Not even a text...” he started
again with the hard-done by look.

I smiled and rolled my eyes. “I
text you back when you text me.”

“You’re just not that into me
Alice,” he teased and put his forehead on mine.

I pulled back to look into his
eyes. “No Tomás, you’re just spoilt for choice and I’m just...” I tried to find
a good analogy that wouldn’t spoil the mood. “I’m just another cookie in your
cookie jar.”

Tomás’s head shot back and he
looked at me with a huge grin. He burst out laughing. Even with all the music
on the dance floor, people turned to look at him. I joined in the joke, but I
think I went three shades of red and just wanted to crawl under the D.J.’s
desk.

He laughed so much that he had to
lead me off the dance floor.

One of the players came up and hit
him on the back. “We’re going on a crawl, coming?”

Tomás shook his head. “Nuh, Cookie
and I are going to hang here,” he said.

I cringed.
Great, that’s going
to be how he remembers me from the rest—not cute, sexy, funny, pretty, great in
bed, nope none of those—he’s going to remember me as a cookie.

*****

Tomás sat with me and my friends and Lucas came over
to join us. We had a hot table—I kept pinching myself, looking around at Tomás,
Lucas, Mia and my college friends and thinking is this for real? But then I’d
get the cold glares from some of the girls at the party and I knew it was for
real and we had two of the team’s best players and cutest guys at our table. I
wished I could get a photo but I didn’t want to look like a groupie. I wondered
if I could get Melissa to sneak to the bar and take one without anyone
noticing, but then she’d want to be in the photo... it’s tricky managing your
own social media, I pondered. I could learn a lot from the Kardashians.

I glanced to the bar and saw Finn
Lalor looking my way. Yeah Finn, do you know how many times I tried to get you
to look my way last semester? I did everything but become the football team
mascot... and I would have done that too but I was too small for the horse
costume!

Tomás and Lucas picked up the
drinks tab for the next hour or maybe it was two and I moved off the alcohol
onto diet soda. I would have killed for a coffee... killed one of the girls
pawing Tomás. Yeah, seriously, women were coming to the table to talk with him
while he sat with me.

Mia nudged me. “We’re going, do
you want a lift?”

I watched as Lucas kept his hand
always on her... on her arm, her neck, somewhere. He was sober and driving.
“Lucas is happy to drive you home.”

Lucas looked over on hearing his
name. “No problem, Alice,” he said. “We’re taking Cassie and Melissa too.”

“We’ve got my car,” Mia explained.
Only two would fit in Lucas’s Lamborghini. I began to wonder what Tomás drove
and then he spoke up.

“No, I’m going to get Al...iss
home,” Tomás said. He was sober too. I guess they don’t drink much during the
season—ah, the life of a professional athlete, and a definite bonus for the drinking
girlfriend, even if two was usually about all I could handle.

Lucas gave him a warning look and Tomás
nodded. Nothing was said but obviously the look covered it. That was really
sweet of Lucas. Mia always says he protects people in his orbit, I guess being
Mia’s best friend, that’s me now. Things were looking up.

“Are you ready to go, Cookie?” Tomás
lowered his gorgeous head next to mine and whispered the words in my ear.

I tried to look angry but ended up
giggling. Even Cookie sounded so cute when he said it. Ah, this man was going
to be the end of me. I nodded and we rose, Tomás helping me up. He pulled my
jacket off the back of the chair and helped me put it on; so cute the way he
joined it at the front as if he was protecting me from the cold—such a
gentleman.

I said goodbye to everyone and we
jostled our way out of the club but not before two women passed Tomás their
phone numbers—seriously—and he posed for three photos with fans. He gave a wave
to some of the other players still there and collected me as I waited by the
exit saying hi to Finn—tall, blond, athletic, green-eyed Finn—who was the
subject of many of my erotic dreams last semester and it had nothing to do with
his ball skills.

Tomás took my hand and
unapologetically pulled me away from Finn whom I managed to get a wave to as I
was pulled out the door.

“Who was that?” Tomás asked, as we
walked into the quiet and the cool air of the night.

“A friend from college. He’s the
captain of the football team,” I said, sounding really proud as though that was
a great thing because that was my college, forgetting I was talking to national
sport star and super goalie Tomás Carrera. I’d had way too many margaritas,
more than should be allowed for someone who had so little drinking experience.

Tomás made a sort of snorting
sound, as if Finn was playing the wrong code so was no threat. Or maybe it was
a ‘Finn’s no competition for me’ snort. He put his arm around my shoulder and
pulled me into him again and then I didn’t care who he snorted at. He looked at
me and smiled, then kissed my forehead.

“Did I tell you that you were
gorgeous, Cookie?” he said, with a grin.

“Uh huh,” I said, somewhat pissy.
“You too, did I tell you that?”

“No you didn’t,” he sighed. “All
you’ve told me is that I have to call you and be the hunter.”

“No I didn’t,” I said, confused.
“Did I?”

Tomás laughed at me and squeezed
me tighter. We stopped in front of a beautiful black Ducati motorbike.

“Is this your car?” I asked, yep,
I said that.

Tomás smiled. “This is my baby,”
he said. He pulled a jacket from the under seat storage and slid it on. He
looked so good in leather and I was about to wrap my arms around him and that
leather jacket. He grabbed a helmet; funny he had two on him; he came prepared
to take someone home. Sigh, lucky me. He turned and put it on me, tightening
the strap under my chin and then patted the top of the helmet.

“Okay?” he asked.

I nodded, my head feeling very
heavy with the helmet on. I looked down at my dress.

“Yes,
bella
.” Tomás looked
as well. “Might be tricky keeping that down on the bike. Good thing I won’t be
able to see you flashing while I’m driving,” he said, and I noticed before he
zipped up his jacket that he had a sizeable protrusion already at the front of
his pants—that thought must have been working for him. He noticed me noticing
and gave me another of those sexy smiles.
Just kill me now, I’m a goner
.

I did my jacket up as well and
watched as Tomás swung a sexy leg over the bike and straddled it. He looked so
hot. He turned towards me and indicated I jump on. Hmm, I swung a leg over too,
not that daintily given I had a dress on and the bike was big. Tomás started
the bike and turned back to tuck my feet in and tell me where to keep them.
Strappy sandals weren’t great for the bike. I tucked my dress under my legs.

“All good?” Tomás asked.

“Sure,” I answered and he pulled
the bike away from the
curb
. I clung to him for dear life;
my life mainly. It was bloody cold on the back of the bike; luckily Tomás was
warm and hard. I know, those two words together just take you places.

I’m such a bad drinker that I
don’t become fun or the life of the party after a few, I just get sleepy—I
needed some serious drinking practice. Even with the cold air whipping against
me, I was struggling to keep my eyes open. I clung on hoping the ride wasn’t
too long. My dad would kill me if he knew I was doing this—I would be the only
twenty-one year old grounded for a year.

And then about ten minutes later,
or when I was just frozen enough to not be able to stand, Tomás pulled into the
driveway of a huge house, the gate opened and he drove in. The garage door
opened, and he drove in there as well—it was as though it was all synced. I
guessed I was opening next!

Chapter 4

Tomás maneuvered the bike into the corner and turned
the engine off. He pulled off his helmet and turned back to smile at me, still
straddling the bike between his legs.

“Welcome to my home, Cookie,” Tomás
said, as he swung his leg over the bike and unclipped my helmet too.

I pulled it off and handed it to
him, then desperately tried to fix my flattened hair. Beside his bike in the
large garage was a sporty little red Alfa. He put the helmets on a shelf in the
garage and came back to lift me off the bike. It was as though the alcohol was
a sedative. I was so relaxed and sleepy, but I didn’t want to miss out on a
moment with Tomás ‘super goalkeeper’ Carrera. It felt as though I was taking
part in a love scene in slow motion; I was the one—the chosen one to be with
him, he brought me home. He lowered me to the ground and I adjusted my red
dress, pulling it down.

“Don’t worry,
bella
, I’ll
have that off in a minute.” He pulled me closer and gave me a breathtaking kiss,
stopping only to whisper in my ear, “I can’t wait to fuck you, Al... iss, you
are so gorgeous.” It was the first time he had used my name since the Cookie
christening incident.

Tomás grabbed my hand and led me
out of the garage, opening the door into his house and ushering me in. It was
dark but I didn’t have to worry about finding my way, Tomás steered me in and
pressed me hard against a wall. The house was silent and all I could hear was Tomás’s
breathing and my heart pounding. The energy between us... the tension... he
must have been feeling it too because his breathing was getting faster and my
heartbeat was like a drum.

“I want you, Al...iss...” he
moaned, his tongue slipping between my lips and his erection pressed hard
against me. It felt enormous and I could barely breathe for the weight of him
pressing me into the wall. I inhaled his scent, warm, spicy, so manly. His
hands seemed to be everywhere—running across my back, in my hair, touching my
face. My tongue touched his and he groaned.

Tomás grabbed my hand and pushed
it down to his crotch to feel his erection through his jeans. He was pushing
hard against the denim. I didn’t know what to do with my hand there, whether to
squeeze or rub. It felt like too much too soon, as if we had skipped five steps
or something. I pressed on his hardness and his body twitched against my palm.

He roughly pushed against my lips
and I jumped with surprise as he nipped my lip. The ladies at the
Shaken Not
Stirred
bar were right—he could be rough. One of his hands pulled me tight
against him. I could barely move now as his tongue pushed harder into my mouth.
His other hand travelled down across my breast and I gasped as all my nerve
endings, especially in my nipples, were on full alert.

 Suddenly, I felt an arm under my
knees and my feet were swept off the ground as Tomás scooped me up. He hurried
up the stairs with me in his arms without even getting just the tiniest bit
breathless... that man was fit.

We entered a large room at the end
of a corridor and Tomás took me straight to the bed—a king size, black, four-poster
wrought iron bed. I was dropped down in to the middle and Tomás crawled
straight onto me, kissing me and stroking my breasts again through the fabric of
my dress. I couldn’t get my breath; it was all happening fast, too fast for me
to catch up. I wanted my first time ever—and my first time with Tomás—to be
romantic. I had pictured a slow night, a subtle wine, maybe candlelight... I
know, but they always have candlelight on
The Bold
. Then plenty of long,
slow kisses, slow undressing...

Tomás pulled his shirt off and
began to unbuckle his jeans, all the time looking down at me. He slid his jeans
off and I had my first sighting of an almost naked Tomás. I wasn’t like a
category one virgin... I had had boyfriends, kissed, sucked, done a few things,
but I had never gone the whole way. Here was the most gorgeous body I’ve ever
seen in a pair of fitted boxer-briefs and a huge bulge that was going to do
some damage. I think I began to hyperventilate.

In a raging hurry, Tomás pulled me
to sitting position and began to zip my dress down. He took it off over my
head. I had on a matching red bra and pants—nothing lacy because I wasn’t
expecting to go to bed with Tomás tonight... damn it, but they were satin. My
dress was gone; it took all of a minute. He laid me back down.

“How do you like it,
bella
?”
he asked, and tilted my face towards him. Tomás lowered himself on top of me
again, holding his weight on his elbows. He pressed his erection between my
legs, impatiently, expecting me to free him of his boxer-briefs I guess. When I
hesitated he made a suggestion.

“Let’s see your gorgeous behind
and start there,” he teased, and flipped me over. I felt his fingers hitch into
my panties and I gasped. Tomás stopped. “Unless you have something in mind?” He
moved to see me side-on and raised his eyebrow at me suggestively.

“I’ve never had anything before,”
I said, “so...”

Tomás stopped. He turned me back
over to look at him. “What? Al...iss, what did you say?”

“I’ve never done it before, so you
pick what you like,” I said.

Tomás’s mouth fell open and he
moved off me.

“No, no, not like this.” He shook
his head. “Why didn’t you say you were a virgin? Fuck!” He took a deep breath.
“That is special Al...iss, it must be intimate... or at least a gift given to
lovers.”

I pulled myself up on my elbows
and Tomás, still in over-reaction mode, threw the quilt over my body. I was
wearing my underwear; it was not as if I was naked.

“Why didn’t you say?” he asked me
again.

“Because...” I shrugged, “... I
want you to be my first time.”

Tomás rolled his eyes. “Saints in
heaven, Al...iss, not like this. Your first time is not to be wasted when you
are half-pissed with a guy who gives you a rough ride, shit.” He continued
swearing under his breath for a few moments, and then pulled himself off the
bed and went into the bathroom, closing the door.

I don’t know what he was doing in
there but I took a guess he was relieving himself of the major erection that
was just about to bore into me. I waited and listened but he was super quiet. I
decided to just close my eyes for a few minutes; the bed was so comfortable and
I was snuggled under the quilt. I could smell Tomás’s manly, spicy scent on the
pillow.

And that’s how I ended up talking
with Tomás’s sister, Valentina, the next morning. I know hundreds, even
thousands of girls would have been excited to have had Tomás’s arm around them,
leading them out of the club and being taken home to his place on the back of
his bike. But in the cold, hard light of day, I felt a bit... slutty. How many people
had seen me going home with Tomás and now, I was one of those girls. Maybe I
just needed to get over myself.

Then, it got worse; no word from Tomás
for days… even when I sent a text to say I was sorry that he had to abandon his
bedroom for me, he shot back a two-word text: “no problem”. Kill me now.