Chapter 19 - Victoria

Victoria

S omething warm and wet slid over my face again and again. I blinked myself awake, coming face to face with an adorable pomsky.

“Winston,” I mumbled. “Good morning to you, too.”

I rolled out of bed and shuffled through the darkness to the closet to grab my sneakers. The sun hadn’t fully risen yet but this little guy had no concept of time and needed to go outside and then have breakfast.

“Let’s go, bud.”

Winston’s tongue dangled out of the side of his mouth while I hooked up his leash and guided him to the elevators. My building has a fenced in dog area for residents with pets. It even had real grass. Bonus points for the doggie poop bag dispenser.

Since nobody else was down here, I let Winston off the leash to do his business. It took him a few minutes to find the perfect spot. Then I watched him run around in crazy circles. It’s probably best if he got the zoomies out of the way here rather than in my living room .

He ran over, panting. His tail wagged back and forth so hard the entire lower half of his body swayed.

“Ready?”

An answering bark was all it took.

After I fed him, I went through my morning rituals. A little yoga, a little coffee, a little quiet time out on the balcony. I loved watching the sun complete its rise over the city. All the buildings came to life in bursts of pink, gold, and blue. Today promised to be a bright spring day.

A perfect day to read some of Charlotte’s diary.

It’s been sitting on my vanity since I unpacked it, along with the sketch of her gravestone the teen boy gave me at the cemetery. There was something so calming and comforting about the drawing.

The serenity of this moment on the balcony was broken by the chirping of my phone. I walked through the sliding doors into my bedroom and grabbed it.

Oh.

My heart pounded.

I had two missed texts. The one just now was from Hannah reminding me about tonight but the other arrived a few hours ago…

Mildly Hot sent an audio message.

Do I want to hear this? I thought maybe he’d just send an emoji or something. Or a dirty text or picture of his own.

Or nothing at all. Yeah right. Maybe in an alternate universe.

“Here we go.” I pressed play and sat on the bed.

Silence.

Then a long, rough sigh.

“Dirty princess…”

Oh God. OH GOD.

“…I do want to know what you’re thinking about. But first I’m going to tell you what I’m thinking about…”

A moan passed my lips. The dark edge to his tone ignited my desire for him in an instant.

“…and when I finish, you’ll send me a video showing me exactly how many times you make yourself come.”

Another rough sigh. Goosebumps pebbled my skin.

“I thought about how much I like you on your knees. It reminds me of the night you knelt in front of me and sucked me off with that Ivy League mouth. I thought about how you’d look with your wrists tied together behind your back. Is that something you’d like me to do? Will you beg me to free your hands? Will you struggle against the restraint? Or will you simply let me have my way with you and demand more when I’m buried deep inside you, fucking you, taking what’s mine?”

I laid back on the bed, resting the phone next to my ear.

“I thought about…”

A long pause. My pulse raced.

“…your skin, your scent, your mouth. The way you look at me when you’re coming. How you sound when you want more. How much I want to mark you and…”

Another harsh exhale. And another.

“I’m so hard right now I can’t think straight.”

He groaned. A deep, gruff sound. It went straight to my throbbing clit.

“Fuck. You should see what you’ve done to me with your photo.”

I heard a rustling sound. Then another groan.

“I just thought about you, Victoria. You. And all the ways I can fucking make you mine. I expect to see a video waiting for me by the time my match is finished.”

His message ended.

That can’t be all.

I sat up straight and grabbed the phone, wanting more. The sharp tenor of his voice cut through me with his final order. He sounded so raw. Almost like I’d pierced him squarely at the center of some vulnerable nucleus he’d clearly not meant for anyone to breach .

Every part of me was awake. I was a live wire, charged by lust.

His soccer game.

I scrambled off the bed and jogged into the living room.

Where the hell is the remote?

Winston thought I started some secret game and followed me around.

Ah. There it is.

I turned on the TV and searched the menu. I know one of the networks carries all the English soccer games. I really pushed my luck assuming they’d air Royal City Athletic.

My phone vibrated on the coffee table. Another text from Hannah.

Hannah: Are you watching?!?! It’s the second half already!

Me: What channel?

Hannah: GoalZone. Should be channel 837

Me: Got it. Thanks!

Hannah: Welcome! See you tonight

Right. Tonight. Drinks with Hannah and Bennet. That should be interesting.

Overly enthusiastic banter between the analysts filled the room. Royal City just scored a goal against West London United. Actually, it was Cade who scored the goal. He exuded so much excitement reveling in the moment with his teammates. He’d done the celebratory knee-slide on the grass to the delight of fans.

I grinned. He looked good in royal blue.

“Cade Gallagher with another monster goal for Royal City,” the announcer bellowed. “He is the life blood of this club. Look at the joy he brings to the pitch. It’s like watching a child in a sweet shop.”

I laughed at the dramatics of what I assumed was the color commentator.

After another replay of the goal, live game action resumed. According to the commentators, if Royal City wins this match, they’ll move to the top of the standings in the league. So far, they’re ahead two to nothing. Which means nobody has scored on them yet.

These hands don’t miss.

At the exact second I thought those words, a Royal City player’s bad pass landed at the feet of their opponent. United made a run for the goal. Their forward or striker or whoever it was streaked up the field, blowing past two Royal City defenders.

I held my breath. He took a shot at the goal but it deflected off another Royal City player, curved wide to the left and went out of bounds, meaning a corner kick.

My pulse raced. There he was, waving and yelling to his teammates to position them where he wanted.

My God.

Xavier was hot in street clothes and casual business attire but in his uniform barking out orders? Lethal.

Granted, goalkeepers wore obnoxious colors that could rival highlighters but there’s something about this shade of green. And if the cameraperson keeps doing these close ups of him with his gloved hand gripping the post while screaming at someone to move over, I might orgasm on the spot.

There is something primal about watching an athlete in the heat of competition. The intensity is unmatched. His eyes flared, the tendons in his neck tightened with each yell.

Once Xavier had everyone where he wanted, he reigned in any explosiveness and appeared almost bored. I’d seen him exude control over his body like this before. It will never cease to amaze me.

The ball flew off the United player’s foot and landed right in Xavier’s hands.

I wondered what those gloves felt like. Weird thought? Probably, but the way his gloved hand cupped the ball while he walked to kick it away hit something in me. I made a mental note to search what material they’re made from. I should also commend the cameraperson on their exquisite ability to capture Xavier’s every move .

Oh.

A full body shot. Xavier stood on the edge of the penalty box holding the ball. He waved his free hand, signaling he’d be kicking it past midfield.

I’ve seen him naked so I know what’s hiding under all those clothes but wow. I never realized how form fitting a goalkeeper uniform is. I liked it. A lot. And the fact that just about every inch of him from the neck down was covered, except for his knees and a sliver of thigh? I wanted to peel those layers off and reveal what belonged to me.

Time to go make the video now.

I eyed my sister’s diary. Part of me still didn’t think I should read it. But I grabbed it anyway and sat on the couch.

It’s been a few hours since I created quite the show for Xavier to enjoy. I made sure he could see I had the game on in the background while I showed him exactly how turned on I was and how many times I climaxed. He’d responded with another audio message. A brief one, only saying “Good girl.”

Hearing those words come out of his mouth launched another uncontrollable wave of intense pleasure. I haven’t masturbated this much in a long time.

I drummed my nails on the diary and chuckled. “Your little sister is having some peak experiences these days.”

I did the cursory flip-through a couple times, letting the pages rustle under my fingers. We’d tell one another everything so I probably wouldn’t be too surprised with what she’d written down. I opened the cover and saw Charlotte written in her neat penmanship. The C flowed out so that it underlined the rest of her name. I smiled, tracing her handwriting with my finger.

Flipping the pages, I stopped somewhere close to the middle and scanned through several musings on music, clothes, food, and….

I met a boy today. Totally Tori’s type but I think I might like him. She wasn’t at the pub with me when I saw him. I was picking up lunch for us when he walked in with friends. I could tell he was the ring leader. Tall, confident, loud. Sorta the male version of my sister (except for the tall part) .

I snort-laughed. Charlotte always knew how to slide in a good zinger when the opportunity presented itself.

We ended up talking for almost half an hour. He plays soccer, goes to some fancy boarding school, and just got his drivers’ license. That means he must be 16. So, a little older than me but not a lot. I think he brags too much but he’s cute. He has such pretty hazel eyes. I gave him my instant messenger screen name so we can chat there. We’ll see if I hear from him.

His friends seem nice too. They all play soccer together at some field not too far from the cottage. Grandpa’s mentioned it before. I should tell Tori. Maybe if we go together to watch them practice I won’t be so nervous to talk to him.

I glanced at the date of the journal entry.

Mid-July. Not too long after we arrived.

Wait.

This is from the summer before everything happened at the bonfire.

A cold chill skittered down my spine. This felt wrong. Charlotte wouldn’t have kept her new crush a secret from me, would she? I wracked my brain trying to remember if she ever mentioned meeting anyone. Nope. She never did. Not until the last summer we went there.

Maybe she had her reasons. Maybe it was just a little crush from afar. Maybe this wasn’t even the same guy.

I closed the diary and sighed. Part of me wanted to know everything. Another part of me wanted to burn it and let Charlotte rest in peace.

“Just a few more pages.” I skipped ahead to August.

Adam kissed me today.

He wasn’t with his friends so we spent all afternoon together. Just the two of us. The kiss was a surprise. It was soft and sweet and I wanted it to go on forever. I especially liked it when he used his tongue. He tasted like the Eton Mess we just shared. Tori and I always talk about kissing boys like this. She hasn’t done it yet though.

There’s a party next weekend he wants to take me to. I mentioned bringing my sister and he laughed. Twins. He said his friends will love it. I don’t think he meant anything bad by it. And we’re used to it. My sister gets a kick out of the attention. She’s a master at flirting. I should tell her about this party and see if she’d like to go. I’ll be sure to mention all the soccer players.

But this kiss today….

It stirred something in me I know I’m not ready for. Sometimes I wish I was older and more experienced. Not experienced in the way my sister talks about. All the seniors at school throwing parties with paddles and handcuffs and rope? Hell no. Way too terrifying. She seemed really into it though. And of course Killian chimed in and said how much fun it sounded. Those two. ツ

No, not experienced like that. More like the girls who whisper about backseats and hiding under the bleachers out by the football field. More like that. But not now. I’m only 15. Someday. Maybe next summer. Or the summer after. I hope he’s still interested in me then.

I love talking to him. Even when he brags about some development league one of the big soccer teams in London is forming for teens. He really wants to be accepted into that.

Aside from all the sports talk, he’s quite intuitive and smart. And he has the sharpest sense of humor. The only time I ever really see him annoyed is when his brother comes around. They argue all the time about stupid stuff. Like, who’s a better natural athlete or who’s on the first team versus the second team.

Ugh. Boys. So dumb.

It reminds me of the football players at school. He seems nice though. The brother, I mean. I’ve never actually had a conversation with him or anything but we exchanged a pleasant hello once. He’s always surrounded by girls. Always. And he’s a huge flirt. I bet if Tori met him she’d totally get a crush on him. He’s a soccer player too. A goalkeeper.

I dropped the diary like it was on fire.