CHAPTER 23
casey
H arrison is a mean, mean best friend. We overslept this morning, quite possibly because I kept him awake last night doing much more fun activities than sleeping. But instead of giving me the morning blowjob I want, he hauls me out of bed and marches me down to the green for dawn Pilates.
See? A mean, mean best friend.
On the plus side, it sure is nice getting one up on tight little teacher Andy and his ultra flexible body.
I mean, Andy doesn’t know what Harrison and I got up to last night while pressed up naked together in my bed.
But I know and don’t I feel half smug about it as Andy eyes up Harrison from the front of class.
Well, I hope he enjoys looking because that’s all he’ll be doing with my Harrison.
Yeah, that’s right. He’s mine .
“You can stop glaring at Andy, sweet,” Harrison smirks as we end the class with relaxation. “You know I never called him.”
“Oh, I’m not glaring at him,” I grin back.
“Gloating then maybe?” Harrison returns, eyeing me speculatively. I just shrug, secure enough in myself to know where Harrison’s attention lies.
“You’re a possessive little thing, aren’t you?” he returns, a soft glint in his eye.
“This surely cannot be news to you,” I parry. “And there’s nothing little about me, thank you.”
Harrison chuffs out a laugh. “I mean, I’ve got a couple of inches of height on you. So to me you’re little.”
“I feel like there’s some kind of innuendo hidden in that line somewhere. There’s no need to brag, H. It’s unbecoming.”
Harrison splutters out a laugh, putting an end to my spurious accusation. “Not everything’s about sex, Casey.”
“Sure,” I grin, pulling myself up into a seated position. I spy Andy looking our way, seeking us out like he’s planning on putting the moves on my physio again, so I grip onto Harrison’s wrist and haul him to the footpath before he gets a chance.
“So possessive,” Harrison smirks, rubbing his wrist.
***
It’s Wednesday and that means it’s main training day. It also means I’ve got a packed schedule ahead of me, starting with tactical training with the midfield coaches, match practice with the full team and an intense power session with Dean Hampton that I am not looking forward to.
My schedule does not include any visits with my physio which makes me a little sad. In a moment of quiet desperation I use a quick break in the schedule to see if I can catch him alone. The door to the treatment room is open so I poke my head in to find him working on Rafi Barlow.
I grin as I perch up against the doorframe, watching Harrison work. He’s wearing that cute red headband, soft brown curls trying to escape and I smile as I watch him concentrate on his work. He’s absolutely gorgeous. I always knew that though.
Harrison glances up at me, a knowing glint in his brown eyes. “Can I help you with something, Casey?”
“Yeah, you can give me time with my physiotherapist,” I say. Rafi glances up at me, unsure of his place. I mean, everyone knows that Harrison was brought here for me, and Rafi is just a first-year rookie. Not that I want to pull rank or anything, but I will if I have to.
Harrison just chuffs at me, like I knew he would. “Sorry to burst your little diva bubble, but you don’t actually own me, Calloway.”
“Beg to differ. You were brought to this club to treat me . That makes you mine .” Rafi’s eyes widen as he glances between me and Harrison. I’m pretty sure he wants to jump off the treatment bed right this second, but Harrison has my measure, he always does.
“Last I checked it’s the Fever paying my salary, not you,” he says.
“I can change that,” I reply, crossing my arms over my chest. “I’ll pay you what you want. Name your price.”
“Ah, I can come back…” Rafi intervenes.
Harrison doesn’t pause. “No, you stay right where you are, Barlow. Even Casey Calloway can learn to wait his turn.”
“Nah, that’s alright,” Barlow says, jumping off the table. “I’m good.”
Harrison just sighs as he pretends to glare at me over the treatment bed. “You come back when I’ve finished with this diva, okay?” he calls after Rafi who is quick to retreat. Good rookie. “Happy now?”
“Deliriously so,” I grin, swanning into the treatment room like the diva he’s labelled me. I drop my shorts, pretending innocence as Harrison’s eyes widen, attention exactly where I wanted.
“Um,” he says.
“How are you at treating groin strains?” I ask, complete innocence at this end. Harrison catches on, that sexy smirk pulling up the sides of his mouth.
“Groin strain, huh?” he mulls, eyeing me like a medical specimen as he grapples for his professional hat. “Alright, on your stomach.”
“You sure? You did hear it’s a groin strain, right?” I ask, hesitating before climbing onto the bed.
“Yes, I heard you. We favour the holistic approach here, or did you forget?”
Well. Guess I just got played at my own game as I climb onto the bed, on my stomach. As requested.
Casey’s warm hands find the backs of my thighs and I cannot rein in the groan that leaves my mouth. Damn he has magic hands.
“Are you sure I can’t buy you?” I murmur.
Harrison chuckles as he presses in deeper. “Surely even you can see how that would be problematic, Case.”
“Oh,” I reply. “Is that because you had your cock in my mouth last night? And in the shower this morning?”
“Seriously, Casey,” Harrison murmurs, pinching my hip. “I can’t even deal with you sometimes.”
“Is it because it might make you feel like a sex worker?” I press, loving making him squirm like this.
“Because there’s nothing wrong with being a sex worker, you know.
Oldest profession in the book.” I know he’s antsy because the door is wide open, but I can see the hallway from the bed and I know we’re fine.
“Casey I am literally begging you to be quiet right now,” he hisses.
“What will you give me to make me be quiet?” I ask, spying leverage when it’s handed to me on a platter.
“ Anything . Except for money as I don’t have enough of that.”
“I literally just offered to pay you for your services so you can’t go crying poor now,” I laugh.
“Fine,” Harrison grumps. “How much?”
“Nah, I don’t want your money, baby. Can it be something sexual instead?”
“ Anything ,” he repeats, quick as a flash.
I can only smirk. “Okay. Deal.”
Looks like I won this round after all.
Well, that is until Dean Hampton passes by and spies me getting my cheeky extra treatment instead of running laps out on the field like I’m supposed to be.
“Calloway, what the hell are you doing in here?” he demands. “Hurry up and get out on the oval. Where you’re supposed to be.”
And that would be fine as well if it were not for the fact that Harrison’s hands are just that wonderful that I now have a slightly bigger problem at hand—and I’m very clearly only wearing jocks.
I’m aware this problem is all of my own making, but I was expecting to tease my sexy physio, not deal with the frustrated head trainer.
Dean starts asking Harrison for an update on Briggs’s latest scans and I cough as quietly as I can to catch Harrison’s eye.
His acting skills need a little work as he zooms in on my prominent dilemma while I perch on my hip, my back to Dean.
But he recovers some as he reaches down to quietly pass me my shorts while engaging Dean in a lively medical discussion.
I pull my shorts on as unobtrusively as possible, breathing a sigh of relief when Dean leaves the room, barking out orders to hotfoot it to the oval, Calloway . I pinch Harrison’s hip on my way out the door, finding him smug as a bug as he stares back at me.
“Lifesaver,” I whisper as I head for the field.
***
“I can’t believe this is the favour you want,” Harrison grumbles later that night when we’re finally, blessedly alone in my room.
“Oh but you have no idea how hot it is watching an English aristocrat doing something so very common,” I rebut, watching his hand stroke up and down the length of his cock.
“And you’re just going to sit there and watch?” he huffs, that delightful flush spreading from his cheekbones all the way down across his chest. “Are you even going to get naked?”
“Maybe,” I grin, stretching out my body alongside where Harrison lies on my bed, completely naked and beautiful, and wanking himself for my viewing pleasure. “Maybe I should have brought popcorn.”
I catch Harrison’s chuff of laughter, right before he touches himself somewhere nice and he lets out a soft moan.
Yes, I am thoroughly enjoying watching him touch himself, far more than I thought I would.
I’m not afraid to admit I’m using the occasion to pick up some tips on how Harrison likes it.
After all, he would know best what his body likes and I watch vividly as he twists his hand at the top, letting out a sigh as his legs splay wider.
I’m watching with bated breath, hanging on for the money shot when he finally arches his back, breath catching as he spills all over his fist with a groan.
“Damn,” I say on an exhale, admiring his blissed-out face as he gives himself a moment to recover. “That’s hands down the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”
Harrison tips his head back on the pillow, a soft huff of laughter filling the cosy space between us.
“Oh, Casey,” he sighs, looking down at me with such fondness that I feel myself squirm. He runs his teeth along his lower lip, eyeing me speculatively before he nods down at the prominent bulge in my sweatpants. “Your turn.”
“I’m pretty sure that wasn’t part of the deal,” I say, belying my words as I reach down to strip off my sweats. I’m just a tad desperate after watching Harrison make himself come for me.
“You mean the deal you extracted from me under duress?” he returns, eyebrow arched perfectly.
“Yes. That deal,” I return, pumping myself a couple times to relieve the built-up tension, enjoying the way his eyes follow my every move.