Chapter Six
Juliet’s hangover had not long subsided when Ryder stepped into the shelter just after one. And man, he was a sight for sore eyes. He smiled at her. The kind of smile that said I’ve seen your titties and I like them.
“Hey.”
“Hey.” She smiled back. The kind of smile that said I’ve seen your cock and I like it.
He was in the same kind of clothes he’d been in yesterday morning—god, had it only been yesterday?—but with the addition of his black Akubra pulled low against the bright April sunshine.
He took it off, and she could see his hair was damp with sweat, as was his shirt on closer inspection. He mustn’t have bothered showering after his training session. Juliet’s belly tightened. There was just something about a sweaty man that had always done it for her.
Good sweaty. Not the festering-for-hours, never-worn-deodorant kind. The healthy kind worked up through hard physical labour. The primal survival kind that attracted a woman to the type of man who could keep her in mammoth stew and furs.
It clearly didn’t matter how sophisticated humans thought they were or how far they’d come. Hundreds of thousands of years of evolution and it still got down to how a man smelled.
Mother Nature was one crazy bitch.
He halted on the other side of the desk, glancing over her shoulder at the woman sitting at a desk, staring at a computer. Margie Adams was the director of the shelter and her boss.
“Hey, Margie, meet Ryder.” Juliet reluctantly dragged her eyes off him to perform the introductions. “This is Tiny’s owner.”
Margie looked up from the screen. “Hi,” she said with a polite smile, her brain obviously on other things. But then her eyes bugged a little. “Oh. You’re Ryder Davis.”
Juliet blinked. It was crazy to think people knew this guy. That he was some kind of hotshot sports celebrity. Not the regular guy with the out-of-control dog who’d skidded into the shelter three days ago.
He smiled at Margie as she rose and joined Juliet at the desk. “Guilty as charged.”
Juliet blinked again as Margie, who was in her early fifties with three grown kids and five grandkids, blushed as she stuck her hand out. “Nice to meet you,” she said. “I’m a huge Smoke fan. Going to be at the home game on Saturday night.”
“That’s great.” Ryder grinned as he shook the older woman’s hand. “And thanks for letting Tiny hang out here. It’s been a godsend, I really appreciate it.”
“Oh—” Margie waved a dismissive hand. “What’s one more dog?”
Ryder chuckled and Juliet wondered if Margie, who’d suddenly leaned heavily against the bench, was having some kind of stroke. Or maybe an orgasm. God knew that low laugh of his somehow managed to reach right inside her underwear and set up camp.
“Well…” Margie said on what sounded like a sigh. “Gotta get back to the paperwork.”
“Thanks again.” He waited until she’d sat and returned her attention to the screen before he spoke again. “So…” His voice was low and Juliet had to lean in to hear him over the background noise of barking dogs. “How’s the hangover?”
Juliet grimaced. “Mostly gone.” A waft of passionfruit-flavoured sweat came at her and Juliet inhaled deeply. It was sweet and salty all at once. Heavenly compared to the rather more pungent aroma of dogs.
The shelter smell had taken a week or so to get used to when Juliet started here nine months ago.
“And—” He leaned even closer. “How’s Kelly?”
Juliet groaned a little. Time to break the bad news. “She’s fine, but…”
He narrowed his eyes. “But?”
“The girls and I promised her last night—”
“The girls?”
She nodded. “I have two other female flatmates.”
“Really?”
Juliet wondered if he was trying to calculate how often their sexy times might be interrupted by a girl crisis. “Yes. It’s a big apartment and the rent around here is hideous, not that you would know that, Mr. Art Deco. Does that much oestrogen frighten you?”
“Hardly. I have four sisters.”
Four sisters? Huh. Well that explained his easy way with her and possibly why her frankness hadn’t shocked him.
“Of course, it would make my day if you were to tell me that you all get naked together and have pillow fights on the weekend.”
Juliet burst out laughing. “No wonder your dog is such a pervert. Anyway…” She steered the conversation back on track. “We promised her we’d all have a girl’s night in together tonight, watching revenge movies. It’s a bit of a breakup ritual.”
“Revenge movies?”
“Yeah, you know. First Wives Club, Kill Bill, Misery.”
“Misery?”
Juliet shrugged. “She likes the bit where the dude gets his ankles smashed with the sledgehammer.”
He winced. “She gets dumped a lot, then?”
“Oh yes.” She nodded. “Lousy taste in men.”
“Unlike you.” He leaned closer again. “Who has excellent taste.”
After four years wasting her life on a guy who’d only ever used her, that was debatable…but she’d hit the jackpot with Ryder. “You’re pretty chipper considering we’re going to have to put off our…” She dropped her voice to a whisper. “Consummation…another night.”
He sighed. “I am, aren’t I?”
“I swear, tomorrow night, come hell, high water, or boyfriend emergency, I’m all yours.”
It was his turn to groan. “I’m flying to Canberra after training for a club commitment. Not back until Saturday lunch time. I was going to ask you if you’d watch Tiny for me.”
Juliet almost sobbed. Maybe she needed to take that as a sign from the universe. But she wasn’t planning on marrying the guy. She only had two more months and she wasn’t leaving the country without taking a few big bites out of Ryder Davis.
“Of course. No worries.”
“Come to the game on Saturday night. The club has a couple of corporate boxes with awesome views of the field.”
“Oh.”
Juliet hadn’t thought about going on a date. She didn’t need it—she was, after all, a sure thing. And well…she wasn’t exactly the sporty kind. The thought of watching a bunch of guys kick a ball around wasn’t her idea of entertainment. But…watching Ryder do anything wouldn’t exactly be a hardship.
“Most of the WAGs—wives and girlfriends,” he clarified at her puzzled look, “hang out in one of the boxes. They’re all really nice and friendly, they’ll look after you.”
“But…I’m not your girlfriend. Won’t that be a problem?”
“Nah. We’re allowed to invite whoever we want. It’s not just for WAGs.”
Which made Juliet wonder just how many whoevers Ryder had invited to the corporate box over the years. But, as she’d just been at pains to point out, she wasn’t his girlfriend, so getting weird about it was plain dumb.
Hell, they hadn’t even had sex yet.
Not the penetrative kind anyway. God…even thinking about penetration made her horny.
So she needed to correct that pronto and Saturday night was clearly going to be her best opportunity. If she had to sit through a footy game first then so be it. She would have already waited two orgasms—one his, one hers—and five freaking days.
“Okay. Sure.” Her gaze dropped to his mouth. She wanted to kiss him. Crawl over the counter and suck his lips right off his face. But she could wait another two days.
Probably.
He was watching her when her gaze returned to his, a smile curving his mouth like he knew exactly what she was thinking. “I’ll text you the details.”
Juliet nodded. “Sure, thanks. I’ll just…get Tiny.”
“And I’ll watch your ass as you walk away.”
Juliet made sure she put a little extra wiggle into it.
Juliet was met at the gates of Henley stadium by a woman called Eve who introduced herself as Griffin King’s PA. She looked about forty and was in a baggy team jersey and trousers that left everything to the imagination, but she was friendly and chatty as she led Juliet to the corporate box.
For some reason, Juliet hadn’t been nervous about sitting in the box with the wives and girlfriends of the other Smoke players. She and Ryder weren’t in any kind of a relationship and, apart from what she hoped was going to be a few sessions of pretty spectacular sex, they weren’t going to be, either.
It wasn’t like this was some kind of date or a meet-the-family-and-friends thing. It was a…prelude.
To finally getting naked with the man.
But suddenly Eve was ushering her through the door and introducing her to ten women all scrutinising her, and she realised how stupid she’d been to be so casual. These were seriously gorgeous women, and she’d rocked up in her comfy old jeans and a T-shirt.
Wasn’t that what people wore to the footy? They did on the TV.
Of course, the goofy slogan didn’t help. Ruck me, Maul me, Make me Scrum had seemed funny when Bea had produced it this afternoon. Juliet had figured Ryder would get a laugh out of it just prior to ripping it off with his teeth and Eve hadn’t batted an eyelid but…
These women. These beautiful gazelles rocking pristine Sydney Smoke jerseys and designer jeans and salon-gorgeous hair didn’t seem to find it funny as their gazes zeroed in on the T-shirt.
Why hadn’t she put some more thought into it? The only bother she’d gone to was to wash and straighten her hair. Christ, she hadn’t even put makeup on.
“This is Juliet,” Eve said after she’d run through everyone’s names. “A friend of Ryder’s.”
There was an almost imperceptible collective nod. As if looking like a yobbo was par for the course for Ryder’s friends. Jesus, just how many women had he invited to the box?
Something hot and unwelcome sliced into her chest and she pushed it aside. She had more pressing things to worry about at the moment. Like convincing these beautiful WAGs she wasn’t a redneck strip-a-gram that had been sent to the wrong corporate box.
Then one of them—Matilda?—said, “I freaking love that T-shirt. I want one. Where did you get it?”
A pregnant woman said, “I want one, too,” followed by a redhead with freckles who said, “And me.”
A woman with caramel curls picked up a glass of bubbles and carried it over to where Juliet was standing near the door like a statue. She smiled and said, “Champagne?” as she offered it.
Before long she’d been coaxed inside and the women were being nice and welcoming, just as Ryder had said. None of them asked any personal questions—just the usual surface chitchat—but Juliet figured that would come. In the meantime, it was interesting to find out who each of the women was involved with.
Juliet was embarrassed to not know any of the names. “I’m sorry…I don’t really know football at all.”
“It’s okay,” Em with the caramel curls said. “I knew squat before I got involved with Linc.”
“She’s right,” the redhead dismissed. “It’s absolutely fine.”
“Says the woman who knows everything there possibly is to know about the sport.” Harper, the pregnant woman, winked at Juliet. “Her father is Griffin King. She was attending rugby games in utero.”
There was a sudden awkward silence, which Juliet didn’t understand, before Harper said, “Shit, Val…I’m sorry.”
Val shook her head and smiled. “It’s fine.” Then she turned to Juliet and said, “We can teach you the ropes.”
Juliet was curious as to what that little byplay meant but suddenly she remembered something Ryder had told her the first night they’d walked down from the headland. “Oh, you’re the one who gave Ryder the dog.”
“Yes.” Val smiled. “He was reluctant, but I’ve never met a man who needs a dog more than Ryder.”
“Wait.” Matilda slid her hand onto Juliet’s arm. “You’re the puppy preschool woman?”
Val seemed confused by the statement, but Harper turned a speculative gaze on her and said, “Interesting.”
“Very,” Em added, renewed interest in her eyes.
Juliet looked from one to the other to the other. “What?”
“So you’ve known Ryder for only a few days?” Matilda said.
“Well…yes. Since Monday to be precise.”
“Interesting,” Harper said again.
Em nodded. “Very.”
Juliet looked from one to the other. “Why is that interesting?”
Val’s frown disappeared as it obviously became clear to her. “Because Ryder’s invited quite a few women in here over the last six years.”
Juliet gave a half laugh. “Yeah, I kinda got that already.”
Val flicked a strand of her gorgeous red hair off her shoulder. “But they’re always women he’s been dating for a while.”
“Never,” Matilda said, her voice low and conspiratorial, “on such a short acquaintance.”
“Oh, I see.” She looked around the little circle as they openly speculated about her. “But we’re just…” What? Using each other for sex? Fuck buddies? Neither of which had happened yet. “It’s not really like that,” she clarified. “I’m going to Italy to live in two months’ time. We’re not a…thing.”
“Oh.” Val seemed disappointed and the other women’s faces went from speculative to surprised to more neutral and measured.
“Italy,” Harper said, recovering first. “That sounds fascinating. Where are you going?”
Half an hour later, with the stadium almost full and the game due to start, the women were lined up along the front of the glass box. Harper and Em were standing on either side of Juliet, pointing things out.
“There’s Griff now.” Em tipped her chin at the group of people coming from the concrete tunnel that led out from the belly of the stadium. They headed toward some bench chairs about halfway down the sideline.
“Who’s that?” A boy who looked to be maybe fourteen or fifteen with Down syndrome was sitting with the group on the sideline.
“That’s Liam,” Harper supplied. “Eve’s son. I think apart from Valerie, he’s probably the Smoke’s biggest fan. He does water boy duties at all the home games.”
“I bet he loves that,” Juliet said.
“Oh yes.” Harper grinned. “It makes me so proud how great the guys are with him.”
The conversation drifted to player and game stats next, not much of which Juliet understood. Em must have seen her glazed look and took pity on her.
“I know it can be really overwhelming to start with. I bet you don’t even know what a ruck or a maul is, right?”
Juliet glanced at her T-shirt. She didn’t have a clue. “I’m afraid not.”
“That’s okay, it’s an acquired taste,” Em admitted. “I’m still wrapping my head around it.”
“Yes.” Harper nodded. “Don’t feel like you have to pretend enjoyment if you’d rather stick a needle in your eye.”
Juliet laughed. “It’s not that…I’m sure I will. I just don’t—” She paused, not wanting to insult any of the women who were here supporting their partners in careers that were obviously as important to them as to the players themselves. She lowered her voice. “Get what all the fuss is about, you know?”
“With rugby?” Harper asked.
“With any sport really, but yes.”
Em smiled. “Just wait.”
“They’re coming on,” Val announced, and everyone’s heads swivelled to the front as two groups of men ran out single file from the concrete tunnel.
Juliet was surprised at the thrum of anticipation and the buzz in her pulse. She hadn’t really been looking forward to the game but the WAGs’ enthusiasm had infected her a little. She eagerly sought Ryder out amongst the two teams of men, zeroing in on him with no difficulty at all.
It was as if he had some kind of homing beacon attached to his seriously delectable ass. She’d seen him in his rugby clothes a few times now. The snug-fitting jersey he wore tonight was pretty much the same, except it was in their official colours of blue and silver—a male version of what the WAGs were wearing. But his shorts were different.
They were short.
And they didn’t cling from static this time but from lack of excess material. They fit him like a glove, cupping him in all the right places.
There’d be no hiding an erection in those things.
But it was more than what he wore and how he wore it. He was so pumped, jumping up and down on the spot, showing off the taut, lean muscles in his quads and calves, so different to the bulkiness of a lot of the other players. He bristled with energy, shaking out his arms, flicking his fingers.
Flicking off invisible globules of testosterone so powerful she could feel their pull all the way up here.
He dropped his head from side to side to work his traps, bending at the waist right in front of the box to execute a perfect hamstring stretch.
Ooh la freaking la.
“Juliet.”
Muscles behind Juliet’s belly button softened into marshmallow. She’d never experienced a hot flush before, but she was well and truly in the grip of one now.
“Juliet?”
Ryder pulled out of the stretch and lifted one leg up behind him, catching it at the ankle as he worked his quad. She’d felt that quad tighten on Wednesday morning, clenching under her palm as she’d sucked him deep.
“Juliet?”
Juliet half turned her head, realising vaguely that Em had been trying to get her attention. “Hmm?” she said, pretending to listen but refusing to drag her eyes off the field as Ryder stretched out his other quad, maintaining perfect balance.
Oh my, oh my, oh my.
Harper laughed. “Leave her, Em. Can’t you see she’s having a lady moment?”
Ryder jogged away, out of her line of sight, snapping Juliet out of her trance and bringing her back to what was happening in the box. “Sorry,” she apologised, turning her full attention to Harper and Em, who were smiling at her knowingly.
Em raised an eyebrow. “See what all the fuss is about now, huh?”
Juliet blinked. “Oh yeah.” She saw.
Ryder really should have warned her about the perv factor. This shit was better than porn.
Two hours later, the game was over and Juliet was waiting with the others in the reception area of the clubhouse. All the post-match television interviews had been done, and the guys were showering. The Smoke had lost by eight points, so there would be no protracted locker room celebrations tonight.
The mood was subdued amongst the women as they chatted about the implications and what it meant for the next game and all about where that put the Smoke on the ladder. It had been a bruising battle with two of the Smoke players limping off—one with blood streaming down his face—and three from the other side. Val had been furious with a couple of the umpire decisions and still was.
Eve approached, smiling at Juliet who’d been listening to the conversation but didn’t feel like she had a lot to contribute. She introduced her to Liam, who presented her with what looked like a shirt.
“I thought you might like this as a keepsake,” Eve said, pointedly not looking at Juliet’s T-shirt.
It was a silver and blue jersey like the one the WAGs were all wearing. “Oh, yes…thanks.” Juliet smiled at Liam as she took the offering, the fabric cool against her fingers.
She thought it highly unlikely she’d be back here again, but it had a good tight stretch to it. It would cling very nicely, and she smiled to herself knowing that she was going to have fun teasing Ryder with it.
Eve and Liam took their leave and the chatter moved on to what everyone was doing next. “I hope you and Ryder will come to the customary post-game get together at our place?” Matilda said. “It’s just a beer and pizza thing, but we have a great view of the harbour and I know Ryder’s always up for that. It’s just for a few hours.”
“Oh.”
Juliet didn’t know what to say to the offer. She’d enjoyed herself immensely with these women—way more than she’d thought she would. But she sure as hell didn’t want to wait a few hours making small talk over beer and pizzas when she had other plans for Ryder Davis.
And she hoped he felt the same way.
The guys arrived, saving her from having to answer. She was vaguely aware of them all heading to their partners, kissing and embracing, but she only had eyes for Ryder. And he only had eyes for her, striding across the room in his jeans and button-down, a big round belt buckle gleaming beneath the lights, a single-minded focus blazing out from under the brim of his Akubra turning her legs to jelly.
He slowed as he got closer, his gaze dropping to her T-shirt. He laughed and shook his head. “Are those my instructions?”
Juliet grinned. “I think it’s best to be upfront about our expectations.”
Their eyes locked and Juliet’s lungs almost seized at the heat and promise she saw there. He didn’t pull her to him or kiss her in front of everyone, just twined his fingers in hers, raised her hand to his mouth and pressed his lips to her knuckles. It may have looked chaste, but she felt it whisper against her nipples and slide between her legs.
“Let’s get out of here,” he murmured.
But a cocky-looking blond guy had other ideas. “Hey,” he said as he slid his arm companionably around Ryder’s shoulders and smiled at her. “I’m Linc and you’re puppy preschool chick, right?”
“She prefers Juliet,” Ryder replied drily before sighing and shaking his head at her. “You told them?”
Juliet smiled at the humour glinting in his fudge brownie eyes. “They asked.”
A few of the other guys had come closer and Juliet was aware they were suddenly the centre of attention. She figured it was a good time to make a statement about the nature of their relationship.
“Don’t worry, I didn’t tell them that you like to dress up as a French maid and have me spank you.”
There was a moment of stunned silence before the whole room cracked up. “I like her,” said a guy she assumed to be Tanner Reid by the position of his hand on Matilda’s ass.
Another guy looked at her T-shirt and said, “I really like her.”
Ryder made a low growling noise in the back of his throat. “Eyes up, Spidey.”
More laughter as a quick round of intros was performed. “You joining us for beer and pizza?” Tanner asked Ryder.
He glanced at her one eyebrow raised. She hoped like hell he was accurately surmising the big fuck no in her gaze.
“Nope, sorry.” He shook off Linc’s arm. “Gotta go.”
He tugged on her hand and Juliet followed him, too horny to be embarrassed by their hasty exit.
“Paddle him one for us,” Bodie called out, hoots of laughter following.
Juliet smiled. Not tonight. She had other plans.