Extra Time. Michelle Betham
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was never going to change.
‘It’s okay, baby,’ he whispered, his hand sliding between her legs again, touching her, helping her on her way to what she knew was going to be one sweet climax. And when that release came, it came fast and hard, an intense wave of white-hot pleasure flowing rapidly through her body, coming in short, sharp spasms as he held her tight against him, his lips kissing her neck, whispering to her until he came, too, just as fast and just as hard. ‘Jesus, Amber…’
She smiled, closing her eyes, lying back against him, his hand closing over hers as it rested on her stomach. ‘I needed that like you wouldn’t believe,’ she moaned, just wanting to lie there until she fell asleep, not wanting to leave his arms. ‘I missed you so much.’
‘I missed you, too,’ he said, his mouth covering her shoulder in tiny kisses. ‘I missed you, too.’
Opening her eyes, she stayed facing away from him, staring at a picture of them both on the bedside table. A picture of them on their honeymoon. They looked happy, relaxed, Jim as handsome as ever, despite his eyes being covered by his trademark aviator sunglasses. Sometimes it all still felt like one big dream, a life she was living from the side lines because she couldn’t quite get her head around the reality. But she knew now, more than ever, that reality had to be faced, head-on. She’d always thought she’d been prepared for the eventuality that she may never have children – she’d always, always thought that she’d be fine with that outcome. It wasn’t like she’d ever fooled herself into thinking some miraculous recovery was going to happen the second she found the right man. But now, more than ever, she only wished that were the case.
‘I need to see you, Max.’
‘What? Now? You do know what time it is, don’t you? And what are you doing on the phone at this time on a match day? I know Jim Allen’s softened up slightly since he married your ex but I wasn’t aware he’d given you lot carte blanche to break every rule he’d ever imposed.’
‘Shut up, Max, will you?’
‘Oh, that’s a nice way to speak to the man who made you what you are.’
Ryan knew he’d said that with his tongue firmly in his cheek, and he sighed, leaning back against the wall as he tried to block out the sounds of a football stadium on a match day – the noise of the crowd outside, the chatter of voices coming from what seemed like every corner of the ground.
‘Can you come and see me or not, Max?’
‘What you up to?’
‘I’m not up to anything… Jesus… I just need to talk to you about something, okay?’
There was a pause, and Ryan knew now that he shouldn’t have said anything. Max was bound to think the worst, and with good reason. Given Ryan’s past, what else was he supposed to think?
‘You sure you’re not…’
‘Everything’s fine, Max. I just need to talk to you, as my agent. Is that okay?’
Another pause. ‘Okay. You’re back in the North East tonight, aren’t you? Give me a ring when you’re home and I’ll come to your apartment tomorrow. Luckily for you I’m up north for the next couple of days anyway. Just promise me…’
‘I promise you, Max.’
‘All right. I believe you. Have a good match, and I’ll see you soon.’
Ryan quickly ended the call, throwing his head back and closing his eyes. He was doing the right thing, he was sure he was. He just needed someone else to tell him that.
‘Do you want to give that to me?’
His eyes sprang open as he heard Jim Allen’s voice. He was standing right beside him, eyeing him suspiciously.
‘It was an emergency call, boss.’
‘Really,’ Jim said dryly, arching an eyebrow as he held out his hand. ‘I don’t want to start treating you like a child, Ryan, but if you insist on acting like one…’
‘For Christ’s sake, it was one lousy phone call. One I needed to make to put my mind at rest.’
‘You’re distracted?’ Jim asked, that eyebrow still arched as he stared at his young, talented, but extremely unpredictable striker. ‘Something on your mind?’
‘Not anymore.’ Ryan reluctantly placed his phone in Jim’s still-outstretched hand.
‘Glad to hear it.’ Jim slipped Ryan’s phone into his jacket pocket before returning both hands to the pockets of his immaculately cut suit trousers. ‘I’d hate to think you had anything on your mind other than helping us win this game.’ Jim’s eyes stayed fixed on Ryan’s for a few seconds longer than Ryan felt comfortable with. ‘Back to the dressing room. And no more escape acts. You got that?’
Jim watched him walk back off in the direction of the away team dressing room, not entirely convinced that everything was as it should be, but then, Ryan Fisher was never going to be a player he could totally trust. He just had to make sure that Ryan did what was required of him and didn’t stray too far off those rails he’d once been so fond of veering from.
He was stirred from his doubts over Ryan Fisher’s concentration by his own phone ringing. He answered it quickly. He should be setting an example to his players, not flouting his own rules, but right now he had no other choice. He needed to be near a phone; he couldn’t risk messages being left with just anyone.
He listened carefully as the voice on the other end of the line spoke before finally speaking himself. ‘Not yet, no… Jesus, I thought we’d talked about this.’ He sighed, leaning forward so his forehead rested against the wall, closing his eyes as the voice continued to speak. ‘Soon, I promise… it’s just that… No. It isn’t like that, and you know it isn’t, I… Look, I’ve got to go. This is a really bad time and I’m sure you shouldn’t be… Yeah. I know. I know that.’ He turned round, leaning back against the wall, checking to make sure nobody was within earshot. ‘I’ve really got to go. We’ll talk later.’ Ending the call, he slipped the phone back into the inside pocket of his jacket and closed his eyes again, just for a second or two, as he tried to compose himself. Tried to get his focus back. Life should be great right now – he’d just married the woman of his dreams, and they were making plans for a future he’d always wanted. He just hadn’t banked on that future turning complicated. But he should have seen it coming. He should have. For once in his life Jim Allen had been naive, and now he had a very real fear that that could be his downfall.
‘Oh, that feels fabulous!’ Amber sighed as Ronnie gently massaged her shoulders during a commercial break. ‘I was so tense!’
‘Tell me about it.’ Ronnie dug his thumbs harder into the space between her shoulder blades, eliciting a small groan from Amber. ‘You’re all tight around the back of the neck. You need to learn to chill out more.’
Amber threw her head back and Ronnie stopped what he was doing, moving round in front of her, leaning back against the desk.
‘Is everything all right?’ he asked, folding his arms as he watched her rub the side of her neck.
‘I’ve got to go and see Dr. Lowry as soon as I get back to Newcastle.’ She sat up straight, looking over at the floor manager to see how long they had left before they were back live on air.
‘Test results?’ Ronnie asked, trying to read Amber’s mood. She seemed fine, and she’d been as professional as ever as she’d joined in with the banter and comments that flew around the studio during these live Soccer Specials, but underneath he knew how she’d really be feeling. She’d always been good at hiding her true emotions.
Amber said nothing as she quickly checked through the papers