Page 1 of Such A Dirty Girl (Hot Creeps #6)
ONE
SARAH
T he wet pitch was a mud-coated battlefield, slick with rain and testosterone. Sliding bodies. Deep grunts. Thick thighs flexing beneath clinging mud. Shorts barely recognisable as once-white.
Not for the first time, I thanked the universe that the team had a laundering service for their strips.
A glance at the clock had me gripping the railing as heated yells punctuated the air. The Otters needed to win the game to go through to the premiership, and tensions bubbled in the VIP box overlooking the pitch.
I followed the flash of golden-blond hair, wincing as my boyfriend, Jake, got slammed from the side.
‘Fuckers,’ I muttered.
‘Don’t worry, doll,’ the woman sitting closest to me said, reaching over to rub my arm. I slid further along the bench seat while eyeing her.
Not one of the usual WAGs, though the team had a regular rotation of partners from certain players. I’d long gotten used to not getting too attached to any until they’d stuck around for at least six months.
‘He’s your man, right?’ She said before taking a sip of a canned gin and tonic.
‘Yeah. Jake is. Who are you with?’ Jake was back on his feet already, the pointed ball tucked in his arms, barrelling down the field.
It still sent tingles through me watching those thick thighs tense with every long step.
Yet, while Jake looked great on the field, some days it felt like he was a comfy old sweater I’d started to outgrow. Reliable. Sweet. Dependable.
Predictable .
‘Oh. No-one. Yet.’ The woman gave me a conspiratorial grin. ‘My sister is dating Graham, but I’ve got my eye on Andrew Belmont.’
It took a great deal of restraint to fight my eye roll.
Andrew-fucking-Belmont. May as well be the team bike for the amount of rides he gives out.
There was little doubt the woman could probably climb aboard and have a wild night in Drew’s bed, but taming him beyond that?
No way. Plenty had tried. All had failed.
Because Drew was a grade-A commitment-phobe. And a royal pain in the arse. Sharing a rugby club with him was bad enough, but the fact I had to share a home with him? Diabolical.
It’s only for a few weeks , I reminded myself. Just until the end of the season. Then Jake and I would be spending a few months abroad before getting married.
I hoped.
And the time saving up for our perfect home would be a long forgotten memory. It was all going fine until Drew’s apartment building closed for repairs and he had to go back to his Dad’s house. Which just so happened to be Jake’s Mum’s house.
The woman next to me snapped her fingers, and I startled out of my reverie.
‘Isn’t he just delicious? That floppy hair. The tattoos. Gawd, the way his ass muscles move as he runs. I’d love to sink my teeth into those.’
‘Mmm.’ My noise was non-committal. Obviously I was aware of the general hotness of my boyfriend’s stepbrother, but up close he was just an idiot.
Self-confident, overly sure of himself, and convinced everyone else needed to worship him.
Yet, still incapable of forming a real connection above rugby-bro tomfoolery.
Even his stupid smirk had its own gravitational pull.
One I’d gladly kick into the next century if it meant I didn’t constantly have to notice it.
‘Your boyfriend is his brother, right?’ She continued.
‘Step.’
‘So… like you could get me close to him?’ She asked.
The crowd rose, teetering on the edge of excitement. All around us, the volume increased. Shouts, both positive and negative, from fans of both sides pelted over the pitch. I stood as Jake got the ball, storming toward the try line, dodging barrel-chested men as he ran.
‘Come on, Jake,’ I screamed, adding my voice to the din. ‘You’ve got it, babe!’
An opposing player shoulder-checked him, and Jake dropped to one knee to a collective groan from our end of the stands.
‘No,’ I groaned.
Jake wasn’t giving up that easily. Without dropping the ball, he pulled himself upright and tore toward the try line. A rapturous cheer filled the air as he made it across, slamming the ball into the dirt.
Within seconds, the final whistle sounded.
They’d done it.
Pride filled my chest as the team surrounded Jake, roughing up his hair and slapping him on the back. Another step closer to the end stages of the tournament. To getting scouted by one of the premiership teams. If whispers were to be believed, two London clubs had their eye on him.
If he could keep playing strong over the rest of the season, Jake could get everything he’d worked so hard for.
And me? Well, I could finally stop having to see Drew every morning.
Because the way he infuriated me had got under my skin in ways that were becoming hard to ignore.