Love, Bets and Football

PROLOGUE Cain West I was on a roll tonight. A high. Tension gripped my shoulders, my eyes aimed on my opponent. The other team was only a point ahead, the main reason being a foul. All thanks to that fool, Xavier Osborne. That asshole needed a leash on his temper. That didn’t mean I wasn’t leading the State to championship. These were the qualifiers. We only needed to win and then we would be in the quarter finals. The team’s goal was to get to the finals. First things first though. We had to win this game. We were only a touch down away. A glance to the time told me we only had five minutes. Five minutes to get through that wall of muscle defense, dodge tackle downs, getting on the other teams goal and score. Easy peasy. Ha-ha. I was being sarcastic. Now that we were still on the losing end, I’m sure the other team was going to do whatever it took to make sure I didn’t make it on the other side of the field. Well, I had other ideas too. I was going to win. We were making it to the quarter-finals. Squatting into position, I waited. I didn’t have to do it for long, and then the ball was in my hands. Like a jet, I took off, with one thing on my mind. Championship, I’m coming for you, babe. **** A champagne bottle popped open somewhere, causing me to grin. Looks like we were celebrating early. The night was ours. Most definitely after not only one, but two touch downs. All in under fifteen minutes. I could still clearly hear how loud the crowd’s roars were. My grin widened. We did deserve an early night celebration, alright. “And here’s a toast to the man of the night, West f**cking Stuart.” Elliot, one of our guards, sometimes tackle yelled, pointing at me. I chuckled, receiving complimentary thuds and taps to my back. “Let’s not forget the asshole that almost made us lose a few points, and at the same time, scored the last touchdown of the night, Xavier Osborne.” I yelled back to Elliot. The team burst into laughter, and making eye contact with Osborne, I watched as he flipped me off. I smirked, then laughed as I read the words on his lips. “f**k off.” Grumpy motherf**cker. I shook my sweaty head, and before I can actually make it to the locker rooms and showers, I stumble into a soft body. “Hey, handsome.” A female voice purred. I looked down, finding one of the cheerleaders. Was it Sera? Selina? Sally? I didn’t care what her name was. Perhaps I would find out later. She was a brunette, tall, perhaps 5’7ft, though I still towered over her. I was 6’2 myself. Definitely my type, just how I liked them. She was curvy and had a great rack. It was her greatest asset. Perky t**s that she had firmly planted on my chest. She was basically letting me cop a feel, and I didn’t mind at all. “Hey, gorgeous.” I whispered huskily, smiling down at her, flirtatiously. “You played so well, West. I’m sure you’ll be taking us to championship this year again.” “Damn straight, I’ll. Only for you, beautiful.” I cooed. She batted her eyelashes at me, eyes flashing with pleasure as she preened in my praise. Jotting a hip outward, she flipped her hair backwards, a signature move that usually let me know she was interested. She was definitely game tonight. She stepped forward, her t**s now pressing into my chest, enough to make feel her round t**s, I was already imagining closing my mouth around them. I felt my d**k twitch a little. Slowly, she trailed a blue painted fingernail down my chest. I watched as it slithered down to my abs, feeling it through the material of my shirt. Finally, she grabbed onto the hem, playing with it she twirled it between her fingers. Looking at me under her long lashes, she whispered, “I’m not here to talk about the championship, though. What are you doing later tonight, West?” “Probably, studying.” I was playing coy and we both knew it. T made the game more interesting. Bending down to her ear, I whispered. “But first, I’ll have to take a shower. Wanna join me?” “With pleasure.” Her voice had gone down an inch, and I smirked, knowing the effect I had on her. I hadn’t even touched her yet. “Lady’s first, my lady.” I flashed her my most charming smile, and she giggled, tagging me along as she made her way to the shower rooms. Looks like I was having a fantastic night indeed. **** Wet slapping sounds filled the bathroom as I f****d, Serena or Sarah, whatever her name was. She let out a moan as I rotated my hips inside her, and I felt her muscles clench around me as I f****d her. I groaned. That had felt good A loud banging on our bathroom door, interrupted my pleasure filled thoughts. “Keeping your f**cking noises down. We can f**cking hear you all the way from Alaska.” Osborne’s voice was loud and clear. Of course he was the only douchebag that could interrupt someone mid thrust. “f**k off.” I growled. There was no reply. The asshole must have already left I didn’t care. “West,” Jessica panted. “I think. . . I think I’m close.” “You’re?” I breathed huskily, biting her earlobe and at the same time pinching her n****e. “Ohhh…I’m coming, I-I-Ah” Sarah breathed as came, and soon after, I followed after, grunting as I came. I pulled out immediately, deciding to catch my breath. “Let’s go to your place. I can’t wait to let you f**k me on all fours.” Sarah demanded as soon as she recovered. What she didn’t know was that I didn’t take girls to my house or in my bed. As soon as she had mentioned it, my c**k had deflated, and I was not interested anymore. “No can do.” “But why? I wanna f**k you in bed. ” She whined. My disinterest quickly turned to irritation. They always behaved like this after they had a test of me. Clingy. Needy. “I don’t think well be having s*x anymore. You had your orgasms, and I think it’s time for you to leave, Sarah.” I told her. “It’s Celine.” “I don’t care.” I shrugged. “Asshole.” Celine snarled, voice suddenly cold and hard. “Are you not even going to order me an uber like a gentleman?” “Sorry, Jessica. I’m not a gentleman. I believe you can do that yourself.” Turning away from her, I turned on the water, and I was showering again. “For the last time, it’s Celine you asshole.” She screamed, and then she was stomping away, before I heard my bathroom door slammed hard, I was worried sick for its hinges. Continuing with my shower, I didn’t let Celine’s temper tantrums faze me. This was a winning night, and I wasn’t letting anyone ruin it. **** “Get down and give me 50 pushups.” There was a collective groan as the boys and I myself, dropped to the ground and proceeded to do as coach yelled out to us. Coach was drilling us hard and it was much expected from him. It was routine after all. I could take his training on any other day, but definitely not in this heat The sun was harsh, blazing down on us making it feel like we were being baked. I could tell the other guys were feeling the same way by their haggard breaths and the sweat that was rushing down their backs as we proceeded with the push ups. The whistle blew and finally, it was time for our last drill. Tackles. Since it was our last exercise for the day, I looked forward to it. The large mattress was already laid out and Coach was in position too. One by one, my teams tackles the bag and their results were recorded. And then came my turn. I run at full speed, tackling the motionless bag with all my might and then landed on the bag. But that wasn't the end of it all as I felt pain shoot up my leg. I let a yell, and my teammates including Coach came running to me. "Son, what happened? Are you feeling well?" "No. It's my leg." I said, pointing to my left foot, around my ankle and calf area. "There's so much pain there." Coach order some of the boys and they carried me to the athletes' infirmary that was fortunately close to our practice field. After a few scans and examinations, Coach and I could only wait for an hour before the doctor returned with our results. I was tense, not knowing if the outcome was bad or terrible. "The good news or the bad news. Which would you prefer first?" "The bad please. " I said, and Coach gestured for the doctor to go on since we were both prepared for the outcome. "The bad is that you've been diagnosed with Achilles tendonitis, and that's why you felt pain shoot up the back of your ankle. You also have a bit of inflammation which also contributed to the pain in your muscles but especially your tendon." "Alright." I nodded, already letting the news sink in. "What's the good news then?" "The good news is that your injury is not severe, so with ample rest, you'll be back on the field." "And how long is that going to take?" Coach inquired, giving me a worried glance. "If he doesn't put any strain on his left foot and he is extremely careful, it'll take him six weeks to get back on field. Any careless mistakes and his recovery will go as far as eight or nine weeks." The doctor finished. "F**k." Coach let out a curse. I completely understood his frustration. My injury only meant I was to sit out the quarter finals that were happening in two weeks. The doctor excused himself and shortly after, I was discharged. On the way home, coach spoke up. "You know you're gonna have someone to look after you? You're practically immobile with that foot. Since we don't want any further damage, I'm gonna have to find someone look after you." "Sure." I nodded, completely complaint. "As long as I recover soon, I have no problem." The sooner I was healed, the faster I would get back on field. "Good." Thirty five hours later, I opened my door to let Coach into my house, but he hadn't come alone. He had earlier let me know that he had someone in mind, and he just needed to convince her. It seemed he had actually done it and found someone. As soon as Coach was out of the way, the tiny woman was revealed and I felt my muscles tense as she stared right back at me. The look in her eyes one I recognize so we'll. Hate. Because it was the exact same thing I felt for her. The bane of my existence. Rachel Saint f**king Charles.