Team Lucas (The Saints Team #1) Page 4

  I nodded. “Thanks.”

  Lucas did this slight chin movement which implied he’d done his duty by me. We didn’t say another word until he said goodnight to me at our adjoining door.

  I slid it closed and leaned against the wall. I closed my eyes as I heard him going upstairs, and felt the intensity of my connection with him stretching and snapping as he moved away. I’m guessing it was one-way connection and Lucas Ainswright wouldn’t even remember my name in a month’s time—but one occasional smile or a look from those searching eyes made me want to dissect him and put him together again.

  *****

  “Mia!”

  I had just pushed my bread down into the toaster when I heard a bellow from next door. That’s why he didn’t spend the money putting soundproofing in, he wanted to be heard and obeyed at all times.

  Lucas yelled again, “Mia!”

  I sighed and opened our adjoining downstairs door, then stopped. I raced back to the bathroom and grabbed a specimen jar and paper bag; if he was going to summons me, he may as well produce. He yelled again.

  “I’m coming,” I called entering his side of the house. “Where are you?”

  “Upstairs in the bathroom.”

  Please, pretty please, let him be naked. I would put up with him calling me Minder for four weeks for that view. I took the stairs two at a time, stopping to admire the view on the top floor which was the same panoramic ocean view as downstairs only higher.

  “In here,” he called.

  I followed his voice along the hallway and found his bathroom. I stood back before entering.

  “Are you decent?” I asked from the other side of the door.

  “No, Mia, I’m naked.”

  I took a deep breath before entering.

  “Get in here!” he barked.

  I walked in and he was sitting on the edge of a huge bath tub in only fitted black boxer-briefs. He was one beautiful specimen of manhood; this is what the human male body was supposed to be like—sculptured and gorgeous. I tried to focus on his blue eyes and not the package in his underwear.

  “What took you so long?” he asked.

  “I was toasting bread,” I said.

  “What, with a blow torch?” he grumbled.

  I gave him a pained look; it was slightly different from my smirk expression. I tore my eyes away from him and then I really saw the bathroom. Oh wow! If you thought my bathroom was to die for, this room was amazing. I could picture myself in that large bath with any one of the team... well maybe not Harry. He was a bit young for me but legal age if it did come to that.

  “Holy shit this bathroom is amazing.” I turned around in it. It had an ocean view, a spa bath that you could do laps in, a shower with the biggest shower head I had ever seen that must give one hell of a massage and floor to ceiling mirrors. No missing a stray hair to pluck in this bathroom.

  “Yeah, it’s not bad,” he agreed. “I need you to do something. Can you pull that bandage strip off my back? I need to shower and clean it, but can’t reach it.”

  I returned my gaze to him and frowned. “You could have brought your bandaged back downstairs to me rather than make me run up here. We need to have a session on the difference between minder and personal slave,” I said.

  “I didn’t want to mess up your bathroom—you’re so over-the-top-clean,” he said.

  “And you’re so not.” I glanced around at the clutter he had managed to spread over two counters of the bathroom; everything from cologne to vitamins to clippers, and condoms. Sigh. “Fine, show me the patch.”

  He turned his back to me. Lucas was so close, smelling of cologne and all things manly. Right then, the earth just moved for me. I saw the large square patch on his back. He’d clearly ripped a few off himself from the white patches on his arm. His back was full of bruises and scars.

  “Wow, nice collection.”

  “Cheaper than tatts,” he agreed.

  I went to peel the bandage and he flinched as my hand touched his skin.

  “Sorry, are my hands cold?” I asked.

  “No. Do it fast.”

  “Always,” I agreed. I flicked up the corner of the bandage, took Lucas by the shoulder and stripped it off. He inhaled sharply. “Sit still,” I ordered him, looking at the wound.

  “It’s just a bruise from a hit I took. It doesn’t need to be kissed better.”

  “Good thing since there’s no one here to do that,” I said. I really wanted to hit him over the head with the nearby toilet brush. “It’s broken skin but it’s clean. Are you sure you did that in a soccer game?” He didn’t answer.

  I checked out a huge bruise on his calf muscle. “How old is that?” I asked.

  He shrugged. “Just over three days.”

  “You’ve been icing and elevating it?”

  “The guys at the club have iced it. I’ve kept it up a bit.”

  “It’s still pretty intense for a bruise that’s over three days old. Some light massage will speed up recovery, plus you should be drinking plenty of water. Stay here,” I ordered him. I went out to the kitchen, grabbed him a couple of bottles of water and handed him one.

  “Drink that while I work on it,” I said. “Flushing is good for the system.” I touched the injured area gently at first and he bristled at my touch. What was it with this guy? It’s not like he didn’t have plenty of sex, he had to be used to people touching him. All his skin went to goose bumps where I touched him.

  “Is that tender?” I asked.

  He shook his head in the negative, took the top off a bottle of water and gulped some down.

  Big touch guy, like he’d ever admit that it was tender. I worked the calf muscle with a light stroke as we had been taught in class and practiced a thousand times. I gradually increased the pressure until I was applying firm strokes.

  I noticed a tight bulge emerging in Lucas’s boxer-briefs and he quickly reached out to his left and grabbed a towel. He placed it across his lap. I tried hard to keep focusing on what I was doing. I worked my thumbs around the point of injury on his calf muscle and dug deep to break down the scar tissue. He had a slight tremor in his leg and he winced, but he didn’t stop me. I glanced at his face and saw he had closed his eyes. He gripped the edge of the bath with one hand, while the other held the bottle of water. Nothing held the towel down on his lap and I would have loved to peek. I went for another few minutes and then finished up.

  “You’re done,” I said, getting off my knees where I had been working his leg.

  He opened his eyes and exhaled. The blue of his eyes was so intense as he refocused.

  “Okay?” I frowned at him.

  He nodded. “Thanks.”

  “Sure. Did it hurt much?”

  He swung his arm from the bench that he was gripping and with his right hand pinched my leg. I yelped.

  “Did that hurt?” he asked.

  “Yes!”

  “Well that’s what you’re doing to me only it’s already bruised. It hurt! You just liked the opportunity to inflict some pain on me.”

  I turned to him with exasperation. “Nothing I just did was for me. You think I’m having fun massaging your leg? It’s hard work. My fingers ache doing it.”

  “You looked like you were enjoying it to me. Especially the sideshow.” He glanced to the towel.

  I wrinkled my nose at him. “You’re so tacky, Lucas. I’ve spent almost three years studying physio, I treat your bruised calf muscle and instead of just saying thanks, you’ve got to take the upper hand, like you’re doing me some favor.”

  “Maybe I am,” he snickered. “Do you know how many physios want to work with elite athletes? So, I’m giving you a break.”

  “Thanks ever so much for doing me the favor of working on you. You still have control over this minder, control freak.”

  “Fuck, you’ve known me for two minutes but you’ve got me sorted, right?”

  I don’t know why I kept g
oing, but I was pissed off that he thought I stuck around because of his erection. It’s a wonder we could both fit in the bathroom with the size of his head.

  “Yeah, I think I’ve got you sorted,” I replied. “Privilege rich kid, scholarship, captain of a World Cup team, friends, models on call, caring parents...”

  He made a scoffing sound at this. “Caring parents, right.” He didn’t say anything for a moment and I didn’t know where to take it from there. I hadn’t met any of his family or read anything about them. All I knew what that his father was trying to keep him clean—that sounded like caring to me.

  “Got any siblings?” I asked.

  “Why?”

  I sighed. “Never mind. Just thought we might actually take some interest in each other since we’re sharing a house, but never mind.”

  “We’re not sharing a house, you’re in my guest wing,” he said.

  “Fine,” I sighed. “Don’t worry. I wasn’t getting comfortable. I’m ready to move out at a minute’s notice; two if you want me to take my shoes.”

  Neither of us spoke for a moment as I binned the bandage I had pulled off him and washed my hands.

  I saw his shoulders slump as I sneaked a glance at him in the mirror.

  “I had a brother, but he died when we were kids.” He rose from the bath’s edge and extended his hand. “Cup?”

  “Oh yeah.” I forgot I brought the specimen up for him. I grabbed the screw capped cup and paper bag off the counter and handed it to him.

  He looked at me. “Want to watch or are you going to step outside?”

  “Right, outside.” I pressed my lips together, turned and closed the bathroom door behind me as I departed. A few minutes later he opened the door and, avoiding looking at his front pouch again, I took the paper bag he gave me with his specimen in and returned to my room.

  I wondered if the loss of his brother contributed to the drug abuse or something had happened with his parents since he implied they weren’t the caring types. Seems the guy who had it all might not after all.

  Shortly after, I declared him clean.

  Chapter 8

  It was another great training session and I had grown much more comfortable with Doc and Andy as we spent time together. Unlike Lucas, they seemed to respect me and were happy to help me develop my skills. Andy told me what he was doing and showed me the ropes; Doc always supervised my work and gave me feedback. This would really count for something with my career choices. Doc even said I was doing well and should consider keeping my hand in, so to speak, in case a vacancy arose at the club. Seems it wasn’t an all-male bastion after all.

  But there’s more… Lucas had let me drive the Lamborghini to training and now I get it—why men love their cars. She purred and just driving her was a pleasure. She hugged the road and had so much power. Lucas nearly had a cardiac—yeah big tough sporting star jumped from the car and kissed the ground, but it was pretty funny.

  Unfortunately training didn’t finish on a high… just as we were about to leave, everything went pear shaped. It was nearing seven p.m. and most of the team had finished up and left. I was helping Andy pack up when I heard raised voices. It sounded like Lucas.

  “Let me check,” Andy offered, signaling me to stay put. He disappeared around the corner and came back a few moments later. I had been holding my breath and didn’t even notice.

  “Uh, it’s just the doc and Luke having a few words, it’s all okay,” Andy assured me, but he didn’t look convinced.

  “About what?” I asked. This wasn’t good, as it was my job to make sure Lucas didn’t fall out with the club or have any reason to need reinforcements of the inhaling type.

  “It’s routine. Don’t worry, they’ve done this before.”

  I left the room and Andy went to follow me. I turned to him.

  “It’s okay, Andy. I’m here to manage Lucas, I won’t interfere unless necessary.” I didn’t move while I delivered the words. Andy might be senior and in charge, but his job wasn’t on the line.

  He nodded and stepped back into the room.

  As I walked towards the closed door of Doc’s private room which was next to the physio area, I could hear the tension. Doc was trying to calm Lucas, or at least he was using a pacifying voice, but Lucas was fired up. I heard random sentences.

  “You don’t know a fucking thing about it so let it go,” Lucas yelled.

  “Lucas, just listen to me,” the doctor said in a raised voice. “Calm down or...”

  “Don’t tell me to fucking calm down. You raised this. Is he paying you? Are you on his payroll?” Lucas demanded.

  “Don’t be stupid,” I heard the doc answer.

  “Then it has nothing to do with you or my performance here, nothing.”

  “It might help,” the doctor was saying in a conciliatory tone.

  “Ha, bit late for that. Where were all your experts ten, fifteen years ago?” There was a moment of silence. I heard Lucas say in a quieter voice: “just leave it Doc. I’m focusing on the game and the team. I don’t want to talk about it again and I don’t want anything to do with him.”

  The door opened and Lucas strode out. He was showered and in his club’s track gear. He saw me, grabbed my arm and pushed me along.

  “Let’s go,” he snarled.

  “I’ll meet you at the car. I’ve got to get my bag.”

  He dropped my arm and headed to the parking lot. I turned and looked in on the doctor. He was standing with his back to the door, arms folded.

  “Okay, Doc?” I asked him.

  He wheeled around and seeing me, his shoulders dropped.

  “Yeah, thanks Mia.” He sighed. He picked up a notepad and folder that were on the ground; I’m guessing Lucas knocked them there.

  “Is there anything I should know? Is he likely to do anything rash tonight?”

  “He’s pissed off so that’s always a trigger. But I can’t tell you what that was about; it’s up to him to tell you.”

  I nodded. “I’d better go, he’s waiting. I’ll see you at the match on Sunday.”

  He said goodnight and smiled a weary smile. I raced to the physio room. Andy had gone. I grabbed my bag and went to the parking lot. Lucas had taken off without me. What an ass.

  It was too dark to walk home. I pulled my phone out of my bag to call a taxi; at least I could afford to take one with my new part-time salary. I just hoped Lucas had headed home and not to a bar.

  “Don’t tell me he’s left without you?” I heard a voice behind me. I turned to find the coach walking towards me. We had only met once but he was a formidable figure and one of the most respected coaches in the world, or so Google tells me. Now in his fifties, he was graying but wiry and fit.

  I smiled at him. “Hi Johan, it’s okay, he was a little upset. I’m just calling a taxi now,” I said, waving my phone at him.

  “Absolutely not. I’ll drop you home. I go past that way anyway,” he offered. “Come on.”

  “Only if it is no trouble,” I said.

  “No trouble at all.”

  I’m being driven home by one of the most respected coaches ever, I mused. My autobiography is looking so good!

  He tapped his keys and a black Mercedes lit up. What a day for cars. He opened the door for me and left me to settle in and close it while he dumped his gear in the trunk and made his way around to the driver’s seat. Turns out he didn’t live that far from Lucas on millionaires’ row.

  Johan reversed out of his parking space and spun out of the parking lot. The Mercedes was whisper quiet and wonderfully comfortable. I could get used to this lifestyle.

  “It’s a hell of a job you’ve got,” he said.

  I smiled. “I’ve had worse clients believe it or not.”

  “Really?” he looked at me surprised. He turned the car towards Lucas’s home. “Do tell.”

  “One client I had to test thought he was Michael Jackson. He wouldn’t take a drug test unless I c
alled him Michael and let him wear a glove on one of his hands. Suffice to say he didn’t pass the drug test very often.”

  Johan laughed his hearty laugh. “Lucas is looking good,” he agreed.

  I made him laugh the rest of the way home with some of my stranger client adventures, discreetly changing details so those who were a little high profile would never be recognized. We pulled up out the front of my new pad moments later and I thanked him again and wished him good luck for Sunday’s first match of the season.

  I turned to the house and was pleased to see Lucas’s car was in the garage, and a light was on upstairs in his living area. If he was taking anything illicit, at least he was safely home before taking it.

  I looked to the third floor and the lights were on; Lucas’s best friend Jase and his fiancée, Sarah, must be back. I hadn’t met them yet—they were away for the first week I arrived—and now they were in the house. I wondered how Lucas behaved around them. I guessed I would meet them tomorrow.

  Chapter 9

  I entered my wing of the house and dumped my bag in the closet. I changed out of my workout training gear, had a quick shower and put on my cloud print pajamas. It was nice to wear something homey and comfortable. I slipped on some woolen socks that let me slide nicely over the clean, large white square tiles. I didn’t care how dorky I looked, I wasn’t counting on seeing Lucas tonight and I sure as hell wasn’t going to test him. Anything he took would be in his system tomorrow morning. I just hoped he didn’t do anything stupid.

  I turned on the huge plasma television and started my daily taped episode of The Bold and the Beautiful. The living area was open plan so in the daytime I could see the ocean from the kitchen, lounge and dining area and at night, I closed the blinds and watched TV as I prepared dinner. I gave Alice a quick call to confirm we were shopping tomorrow for a dress to wear on Friday night to Lucas’s party. We were cutting it fine but Alice could only get Thursday off so it was do or die in the dress stakes.

  “Is that The Bold and the Beautiful in the background?” she asked. “Can you believe that Ridge...”