The Sprite
Part 1
by Diz
“C’mon Henry!” a powerful voice yelled,
“You can take ‘im on the outside!” Jacqueline’s eyes searched out the source of the voice. She settled on a pair of men standing intently watching Henry Thorne, the team’s young winger, sidestep the last defender and cross the line to touchdown for a try.
“Yes!” both men punched the air in triumph. She was pretty happy herself, the hard work her youth team put in had paid off, and the final score put them ahead. The final whistle sounded. After the congratulations faded Jac, as she preferred to be called, made her way to the dressing room.
“Everybody decent?” she called knocking on the door.
“As much as we ever are,” a chorus of voices yelled back. Chris, the physio, nodded as she walked in, wordlessly reassuring her that the bruised leg he was working on was not serious.
“Well done!” she said, “We’re into the final! Nice final try Henry”
“Thanks boss,” chorused the team.
“Get cleaned up,” she ordered. “I’ll see you on Wednesday at training.,” She backed out of the dressing room, turned to leave, and crashed straight into a brick wall.
“What’s the deal?” the wall said in an irritated voice, “Should you be in there?”
She gathered her scattered wits and looked up. It wasn’t a wall; it was a man, a very annoyed man with blue/green eyes under lowered brows. The angle she had to tilt her head at told her he must be just a shade under 6 feet. She took a step back, irritated with herself for giving ground. “What’s it to you?” she asked.
“I’ll tell ya,” the man said, “I don’t take kindly to some pint sized female perving on my son. I can’t speak for the other parents.”
“Your son is…?” She enquired smoothly, trying to keep her anger in check. She’d been through this all before.
“Henry Thorne,” he bit out.
“Australian,” she decided, “Definitely Australian,” remembering odds and ends Henry had told her about his Dad, divorced from his Mum, doing some kind of work that meant he was away a lot. “How do you do Mr Thorne,” Jack decided on cool politeness, and extended a hand. “I’m Jac - Christie, J if you prefer - the team’s coach.” The eyes glaring at her turned a startled blue and she heard a bark of laughter.
“She gotcha Tio! I tried to tell you to wait,” an amused voice said. From behind Mr. Thorne a smaller, slimmer man with red hair appeared and took the hand she still held out. “Dino,” he introduced himself grinning broadly. “Henry’s adopted uncle. The gaping ape in front of you is Terry. Say hello to the coach Terry,” he continued in a patient tone.
“Eh, yeah, sorry, Terry Thorne,” said the bigger man shaking her hand, now released by Dino. “I’m sorry, when Henry talked about Jac, I assumed…. and they played so well!”
“Thanks Mr Thorne,” she said, “It’s not the first time. Why should you be surprised that they played well?”
Dino was now making the noise of a plane crashing, calling “Mayday! Mayday!” making them laugh. It broke the ice.
“Can we start again?” Terry smiled,
“Good game Coach! Well played!”
“Thanks,” she grinned in reply,
“The boys done good.”
“They certainly did,” chimed in Dino with more than a touch of Oliver Hardy. “Can we buy ya a beer?” his American accent sounding stronger through his smile.
“I’d love one,” Jac said.
“I’ll catch you later mate,” Terry said looking at Dino, moving past her to the dressing room door.
“Where you gonna be? I’ll drop Henry home and meet you there. The Diggers? Yeah?” Dino and she headed for the local and got a round in, settling into comfortable conversation. He explained that he and Terry were running their own business. “K&R,” he said, “Kidnap and Ransom,” he explained, seeing her raised eyebrows.
“What business you in J?”
“G.B.R,” she replied smiling at his puzzled expression. “Great bloody rugby. I’m a professional coach.”
“Bloody hell!” came an astonished voice from behind her. Terry sat down beside
them, reaching for a pint.
“This mine?” he said, raising it to his lips and taking a long swallow.
“No,” Jac said, deadpan. “It’s mine.”
“Bloody hell!” he said again, choking slightly.
“Broad vocabulary your friend has,” she said to Dino who was laughing as he pushed himself to his feet and headed for the bar to get a replacement drink.
“You seem to be able to wrong-foot me at every turn,” Terry said looking up from under his brows with a rueful half smile, his eyes sparking warmly.
“Years of practice,” she explained, “Three brothers.”
“Don’t fall for that look J!” Dino warned, returning with a fresh pint.
“How do you think Henry got here?” For reasons best known to herself, she blushed. Terry’s eyes, at the sound of Dino’s teasing voice, snapped blue, cold and hard. “I’m sure the coach is too smart to be schmoozed,” he said sharply.
“Too professional.”
“I have loved rugby from birth,” Jac said. “Before that if you believe the family folklore. I have been the only female on every Coaching course I’ve done, and coped with the comments that came with it…. I’m no pushover,” the awkward moment passed and the evening progressed into a “deep and meaningful,” discussion over the merits of Rugby Union versus American Football. Dino was shouted down by sheer force of numbers.
“Time gentlemen please!” came the call
“Shit!” Jac said with feeling, “How’d it get to be that time? I’ve got a training plan to put together. Thanks for the company guys!” she called, grabbing her bag and heading for the door.
Training for the youth team, one of 3 she coached for the club, came around. They were working well, fired up from their win and looking forward to the Cup Final. Focussed on the passing exercise she’d set, Jac jumped when an approving voice said, “Pretty sharp. You’ve got them really motivated.”
She looked up, recognising Terry. “Thanks,” she said continuing to look at him. Tall, broad shouldered, and fit looking. Built along the lines of a flank forward. “More of a stopper than a speed merchant,” she thought to herself, automatically categorising him into a playing position.
“Open side flanker, until I decided I was running too far, then I switched to blindside,” he chuckled at her startled expression.
“You read minds?” she asked.
“Nah,” he said, “But you’re pretty predictable.”
“Cheers mate,” she mimicked his accent, turning back to the training. He moved to stand behind her, following the interplay, looking over her head.
“Nice one Thorne,” she heard him mutter, then in a louder voice say, “Focussed. That’s what I meant, sorry, I’m not normally stupid.” She smiled and moved forward to start new exercises.
The
next time she looked up she saw Terry deep in conversation with a woman she
recognised as Henry’s mum, Penny. She was shaking her head sadly, looking into
his eyes as she raised a hand to rest against his cheek. Jac pulled her eyes
away feeling like an intruder. “Okay guys!” she called, “Hit the showers. We’ll
have a short sharp burst on Saturday since there’s no match.” Groans sounded
around her as the muddy players trooped off to clean up. She turned her
attention to the equipment, dragging tackle bags and nets of balls to the
storage shed. Turning for another load she ran into a tackle bag, which seemed
to be making its own way.
“Shit, sorry,” said the bag, “Does this go in here?”
“Yes,” she said watching Terry store the bag with the others. He followed her out and waited as she padlocked the door and pocketed the key.
“What happens now?” he asked.
She stared up at him blankly. “Whad’you mean?”
“What do you usually do after training?” he questioned, she could hear a thread of amusement in his tone.
“Well, I take off the boots, put on my training shoes and run home. Then it’s shower, and collapse in front of the telly with a frozen lasagne.”
“How far is home?” he asked, looking her over from the top of her battered baseball cap to the toes of her high top rugby boots.
“About a mile, generally takes me about seven or eight minutes and I have a few pints to atone for from the other night.”
“Pretty good time,” he nodded approvingly, “So I can’t tempt you to a lift home and dinner on me?”
“You could tempt me to a lot of things!” she thought, but instead said, “We’ll split it, I’ll run, you drive and we’ll get a curry delivered. I can’t face going out after I’ve showered.”
“Deal,” he grinned, “How do I get to your place?”
She gave him directions as they walked back to the clubhouse. It was noisy with parents collecting their tired but happy offspring. Jac paused at the door to let some of them pass and glimpsed Terry watching Penny and Henry leave, talking ten to the dozen. His face was unreadable.
“Back shortly!” she called heading for the changing rooms.
“Okie dokie,” he replied. A couple of minutes later she was back outside trying to resist Terry’s grab for her backpack.
“It’s okay,” she said, “I usually run with it.”
“Hand it over,” he said in a stubborn tone that she sensed brooked no resistance. “Who knows, you might make better time.”
“Unlikely,” she groused, giving in none too gracefully. “See you over there?” she suggested, starting to do a few stretches to warm up her cold muscles before the run.
“S’okay,” he replied, eyes glinting as he watched, “I’ll wait with you till you set off.”
“Cheers,” she muttered, as she bent over to stretch the tension from her hamstrings. Her face heated as she felt his eyes on her. Finishing her warm up she started jogging to the entrance.
“Catch you up,” he called raising a hand.
Jac made decent time, and when she arrived Terry was sitting on the doorstep, her backpack at his feet. “Not bad,” he said, nodding, “Seven minutes forty. Guess you’re not a winger.”
“Flank forward, used to be open side until I realised…,” she parroted back at him making him laugh. “Speciality of late tackling the standoff,” she grinned nastily rubbing her fist.
“Hey,” he said holding up both hands in a conciliatory gesture, “If the ref doesn’t see it….”
“It’s perfectly legal!” Jac finished, laughing with him, “Although that’s not what I tell the youth team!” she picked up her bag and fished out her keys. Once inside she waved him towards the living room. “Make yourself at home, there’s beer in the fridge”
“Sure,” he said, “No worries,” and moved smoothly through the door. She watched him for a moment; he was a pretty impressive package. Broad shoulders covered by a leather jacket over a rugby jersey, well shaped legs in snug jeans ending in smart training shoes. He gave the impression of being relaxed but she sensed a watchful readiness in him. “Oh Puhleeze!” she groaned to herself, “Get a grip J!” She pounded up the stairs, dropping her clothes as she went. A brisk shower and change of clothes meant she was back in the hall a short time later, although her hair was still wet. Gathering her scattered belongings, she walked barefoot though the living room to shove the gear in the washing machine in the open plan kitchen.
“Who’s Callum?” Terry made her jump for the second time that night. She hadn’t heard him move from the armchair he’d been slumped in when she passed him in the living room.
“What? Oh right! Callum is my little brother,” she watched his eyebrows climb towards his hairline, “Well okay,” she huffed, “He’s my younger brother. He’s hardly little at 6’2”. We’ve shared the house since our parents split up. Neither of them wanted it so we took it on. The other two were married by then.”
“So where is he now?” Terry asked looking over his shoulder as if expecting her hulking brother to appear any second.
“On tour,” she said, “he plays for the 1st XV they’re in New Zealand. Rat bag!” she said with feeling. “I’ve always wanted to go there.”
“That’s a relief,” the big man smiled, “I thought he might be a boyfriend or husband. He looks pretty tough,” he indicated a photograph tacked to the fridge door.
“Nah,” Jac snorted dismissively, “He’s a powder puff, and after all he’s a centre.”
“Ah,” Terry said with a conspiratorial wink, “A Brylcream boy.”
“Exactly!” she said with relish. “Did you get yourself a drink? I could murder a beer myself.”
“No probs,” he said moving to the fridge to extract two bottles of beer. Opening them he handed her one, not bothering to look for a glass.
“Cheers,” they said together, clinking the bottles and drinking with relish.
“Nectar,” she gasped, having necked half of the bottle.
Terry looked approvingly at her, his eyes continuing over her t-shirt and jogging bottoms to her bare feet. Raising his eyes he said, “West women do…,” reading the legend on her t-shirt and grinning, “Do they really? Interesting thought!” he giggled for a moment, a sound seemingly at odds with his solid frame. “You should see your face! Is it warm in here?”
“It’s from a team I used to play for,” she explained, her face pink, “We used the song “Wild women do,” slightly adapted, as our theme song.”
“Wild women do and they don’t regret it…,” Terry remembered out loud, “What you only dream about…,” he trailed off.
“West Women do!” Jac finished, flushed with embarrassment but refusing to feel intimidated by this man.
Grabbing a menu from the kitchen notice board she changed the subject. “What do you want to eat?”
“Not fussed,” he replied shrugging his shoulders, “Whatever you think.”
Picking up the phone she ordered the meal for two from the local curry house. By the time the food arrived they were settled in front of the T.V bickering good-naturedly over a videotaped France/Italy match.
“Ripper!” Terry said with relish as he heard the doorbell. “I’m just about ready to kill for food. Get some dishes will ya!” he called from the hall as he answered the door and paid for the meal.
“Yessir!” she gritted, swinging into the kitchen to fetch what was needed. When she returned, Terry caught her arm.
“Sorry mate.,” he said softly,
“It’s just so easy being here with you that I forgot we hardly know each other.”
“S’okay,” she smiled. “Don’t fret, I was just being a grouch. I’m glad you feel comfortable. Let’s eat.”
“Good idea.,” he grinned, helping to open the cartons of food. A silence fell as they ate, but it didn’t feel oppressive, just natural. Conversation developed and Jac discovered that Terry was an only child, joined the army at 16 against his father’s wishes, moved to Britain to see more “Action,” becoming S.A.S soon after.
“Dramatic stuff,” she said looking at him, “and you don’t look that tough to me.”
“I’ve been out of it for some time now. Since Henry was a nipper really. Penny wanted a more settled life.,” His mouth quirked but his eyes were cold, his brows drawn together.
“He’s a good lad,” Jac said. “A natural. He’s a good leader, heading for the captaincy I think,” she smiled. Terry was grinning,
“Yeah? That’s great! I’m just getting to know him now. He’s so nearly a man and I’ve missed so much of him. In my job there was always another challenge,” he was serious and frowning again. Jac moved closer to him, leaving her place on the fireside rug to sit beside him on the sofa.
“Don’t beat yourself up Terry. Give yourself a break,” she rested her hand on his forearm. He’d put his plate down and was leaning forward, elbows on his knees, fingers laced together. He looked down at her hand and then up to her face.
“Thanks,” he said smiling sadly, “Sometimes I get low, thinking about what I’ve lost one way or another.”
“You haven’t lost Henry,” she said tightening her grip. Feeling helpless in the face of his sadness, she kissed his cheek. It changed everything. He moved his left hand to the back of her head holding her still. She watched him warily.
“You look like a ‘roo on headlights,” he murmured moving towards her and kissing her lips gently. “Make that a stunned mullet,” he said when he lifted his head.
You’re out of line buddy,” she said but her voice held no conviction, it was barely a whisper.
“Oh yeah?” his low voice challenged.
“Feel free to stop me anytime Coach,” his other hand was on her shoulder now and he pulled her towards his chest, kissing her with more urgency, tongue darting out to run over her lips. She groaned, her bones seeming to melt. She opened her mouth and shoved her hands into his hair; the short stands slipping through her fingers. He urged her onto his lap. She snuggled there, revelling in his kisses and hearing her heart pound in her ears. Strong fingers skated under her t-shirt and found the skin of her back and stomach. One hand stayed at her waist but the other smoothing higher to cup her breast.
“No bra,” he grunted in a satisfied voice before he began to circle her already peaking nipple with his fingers. Jac groaned, dragging her mouth away, only to have him attack her neck, teeth nipping gently. She squirmed in his arms, moving one leg to straddle him where he sat.
“Time to even things up,” she growled, grinding her bottom against the hardness she could feel in his jeans.
“J!” he said warningly, both hands moving to her hips gripping firmly, trying to control her movements. She slid her hand under his rugby jersey, finding warm skin and smooth muscle. She scratched her nails lightly down his back and along his ribs. He groaned, moving his hands inside the waistband of her joggers.
“Bloody hell!” he said in a stunned voice “You’ve got no knickers on!”
Jac went still, shocked at herself. How had things gone so far so quickly! She pushed away from him, stumbled to the other side of the room and slumped to the floor. He stayed where he was, watching her intently. “I didn’t mean for…I was in a hurry to…I don’t usually…,” “Great stuff J!” said a voice in her head, “Really coherent!”
“Look,” she said, looking at his closed and unreadable expression. “I do not make a habit of this, I usually go straight to bed after a meal on a training night,” Terry raised an eyebrow. “Alone!” she said, feeling her face heating. “I’m usually so knackered after training, it’s all I can do to put clothes on after my shower.,” The other eyebrow joined its mate. “That didn’t sound right!” she gabbled, “What I meant was….”
“Jac.,” Terry said in a firm voice, “Shut up will ya, and come back here. I wasn’t finished,” he had a gleam in his eyes.
“Oh no!” she said, “I’m staying here where I can keep a safe distance between us”. She jumped to her feet in alarm as she saw him move towards her, eyes intent, plan unmistakeable. She tensed on the balls of her feet. As he reached her she sidestepped him neatly. At least, that was the plan. Just as she thought she’d hit the gap an arm shot around her waist and she was hauled backwards against his large body.
“Nice try, but no dice,” Terry said, bending his head to her ear, kissing the lobe. “Quit wiggling! Now where were we?” The arm around her waist was as immoveable as oak. The other hand came round to clasp her breast.
“Oh yeah, that was it!” his mouth moved down her neck to nibble her collarbone. In this position she couldn’t reach any part of him. He began to explore her body with his hands, pulling her t-shirt over her head and shoving her joggers past her hips for them to slide down her legs. She stood stock still, feeling dangerously decadent, naked while he was fully clothed. “Well hello,” he leered over her shoulder, watching his hands move on her breasts. “Would ya look at that? You blush all the way to your…,” she twisted round in his arms, stopping his mouth with a kiss as she rubbed against him, pulling his hair. He picked her up, “Bedroom,” he said, his voice rough.
“Yes,” she said, her eyes closed.
“No,” he said, “What I meant was, where is it?”
Her eyes snapped open to find a wolfish grin. “Upstairs, second left. Think you can handle it tough guy?” she challenged.
“I’ve carried Dino for a mile in rough country.,” Terry grinned, “A scrap like you poses no problems,” he shifted her in his arms.
“Oof!” Jac gasped in surprise, as she landed, none too elegantly, over his shoulder. “Ah the romance!” she muttered watching the floor pass as he headed up the stairs.
“Practical,” Terry laughed, “Anyway it has it’s compensations,” as he rubbed his cheek against her exposed hip. She gasped again as she felt his stubble on her skin and then yelped in surprise when he bit her cheek.
“Put me down you big ape!” she demanded.
“Righto,” he said in a cheerful voice and dumped her unceremoniously on the bed, laughing at her affronted expression, then he sobered looking her over. “Beautiful,” he breathed, smiling faintly. She rose up on her knees and crooked a finger at him. Terry shook his head, still smiling, as he stripped out of his jersey and toed out of his training shoes, bending to remove his socks. Jac drank in the sight of his chest and arms in the muted light from the open door. His hands went to the top button of his jeans, she moved towards him.
“Let me,” she said pushing his hands away. Her hands worked the buttons; they gave with a soft sound. Slipping a hand inside the material she laughed. “Bloody hell, you’ve got no knickers on either!” she rested her forehead on his chest as he laughed with her. A moment later she found more interesting things to do with her mouth as her hand found him. Hard, hot, and ready. She squeezed and stroked as she kissed and licked his chest, delighting in the feel and taste of his skin and the grunts and groans her efforts elicited. It was not a one sided experience. Terry’s hands were shaping her breasts, thumbs rubbing across her nipples. Jac raised her face and kissed her way up his neck, moving to lie back, pulling on his shoulders. He came down on top of her, swivelling his hips to lie between her legs. She groaned, needing more she shifted her hips restlessly.
“Something you want?” Terry enquired conversationally.
“Yeah,” she said, “You inside me, hard and fast,” she watched his green eyes darken.
“Be careful what you ask for- you might just get it.”
“Big talk!” she scoffed.
“Got any frangers? I’ll show you,” he growled in her ear catching the lobe in his teeth.
“In…in the bedside cabinet,” she stuttered, lost in the feelings he was causing.
“Righto,” he said moving away from her to open the drawer. She heard the rustling of the packet, and closed her eyes. Suddenly he was back, urging her legs wide and pushing two fingers into her. She jack-knifed up off the bed in surprise at the unexpected move.
“I warned you to be careful!” Terry said in a low voice. He removed his hand and shoved her back down on the bed. He was on top of her and sheathed in her so fast she gasped at the sensation of being so filled. “It’s been a while for you eh?” he growled in her ear, “So tight, so wet. God you’re amazing!” he was holding still inside her.
“Shut up!” she said, equal parts embarrassed, desperate and angry. “Fuck me!” He said nothing but jerked his hips suddenly. She sucked in a breath and gripped his shoulders hard. Then it went crazy. They were like demons, moving hard and fast against each other, more like fighting than making love. Eyes open, staring, each daring the other to be the first to say “Enough.” Jac dragged her nails down Terry’s back and he glared at her; grabbing both of her wrists he held them above her head in one of his hands.
“Time to pay for that,” he gritted out, pounding his hips and insinuating his other hand between their sweating bodies. He found her clitoris; she bit down on her lip trying not to whimper. She failed. He looked at her in triumph and rubbed hard, smashing her resolve as she came in a rush of swearing, crying and laughing all at once.
Terry held still watching her face. When she came back to herself he released her hands, allowing her to wrap her arms around his neck and pull him close. She was gasping for breath when she realised that he was still inside her, still hard and wanting. Her eyes widened and he smiled. “So, my wild woman. Will you do what I only dream about?” She nodded. “Trusting soul. You don’t know what I dream about,” he said.
“Whatever you want, I’m yours to command oh Master,” she batted her lashes at him.
He smiled. “I want you on top of me where I can see you, and I want you to make love to me,” Terry rolled onto his back, still holding her, and urged her to sit up. “Beautiful.,” he said again, running his fingertips over her skin so lightly that goose bumps followed in their wake.
Jac moved gently, kissed lightly and smiled down at him as she discovered his body with her hands. She took his hands and pressed them to the bed on either side of his head. “Don’t move,” she said against his mouth, he helpfully laced his fingers together and put them under his head. She returned his smile and concentrated on driving him wild. She circled her hips and smoothed his skin with her hands. She talked quietly, telling him how it felt to be with him and what she planned to do to him. He lay beneath her, groaning and sighing, telling her what he liked and how he liked it. Eventually the teasing became too much and she began to move on him more urgently, surprising herself at the curling sensation of an approaching climax. As it hit, she closed her eyes to watch the internal fireworks display.
Terry grasped her hips with both hands and sat up, moving to wrap his arms around her in a bear hug he groaned, “Jac! Yes!” She felt his whole body stiffen and tremble with the force of his release. When they could both breathe again Terry lay back, encouraging her to lie on top of him. “You’re not heavy,” he stated, “and besides, I’m not ready to let you go yet.” Jac smiled and yawned in surprise she clapped a hand over her mouth. He smoothed her hair and pulled her head to his shoulder. “S’okay,” he said, “Relax.” She did, and promptly fell asleep.
When she woke in the wrecked bed, it was daylight. She lay still for a moment adding her memories together to relive the previous night. Her contented smile changed to a grimace as she tested out long unused muscles. There were aches in places she had forgotten she had places. Then she heard it, the rumble of voices downstairs. At first she thought Terry was listening to the radio but realised that the cadence was that of conversation. Revelation hit her so hard that she was out of the bed and halfway to the door before she realised she had no p.j's on. Whisking a blanket from the bed she wrapped it around her body sarong-style and padded downstairs to prevent assault and battery.
Jac stumbled to a halt half way across the living room. “What the hell are you doing here?” she demanded.
"Morning Titch!” Adam, Jac's eldest brother, said cheerfully, “Good - look the sister-in-a-blanket I find.”
This elicited a giggle from Terry who was sitting at the kitchen table wearing just his jeans, which were barely decent, and holding a mug of tea. He looked far too comfortable for her liking. She glared at both men.
“I came round,” Adam continued, "to congratulate you on the win yesterday. You gave me a key. Remember? I let myself in and found Mr Thorne here preparing to brain me with a rugby boot!"
"Sorry about that mate.,” Terry said. "I just went to automatic when I heard someone coming in.”
The two men looked at each other, and Jack sensed some kind of macho exchange but all her brother said was,
"That's no problem, it's good to know that someone feels protective of Titch.” He stood up and moved towards her, handed over his empty mug and kissed the top of her head as he made for the door. She walked with him.
"I'll call ahead next time!” he grinned. "Nice to meet you Terry.,” he called, meeting Terry's gaze.
"Yeah,” came the reply, and a raised mug in salute.
On his way out of the front door, Adam stopped. "Be careful Titch, this guy's got a lot of baggage,” he said softly, tousling her hair before striding down the path.
....to be continued