Hooking The Player

1. Emily

I’d never leftOhio in my entire life.

Boring, I know.

So when my brother started playing rugby in Ireland and invited me to come spend some time with him at his place in Dublin, there was no way I could say no.

Graduating high school was just the first step to a new life path. Unfortunately, I wasn’t sure what I really wanted afterward.

I was supposed to start community college in the fall, but as I watched the bustling streets of Ireland pass me by through the cab window, it immediately felt like home.

“This is way nicer than you’ve been letting on, Michael,” I said, nudging my brother’s big side.

We were five years apart, and he was a whole foot taller than me, yet we were always as thick as thieves—even if one of the thieves was a lot brawnier than the other.

“I never said Ireland wasn’t pretty, Em,” he grumbled, running his fingers through the beard he’d been trying to grow.

I guess all the guys on the team vowed not to shave until they lost, and he’d been growing it for a while.

“But you didn’t say it was THIS nice. It looks like something out of a fairytale,” I said, open-mouthed, gawking at the cobblestone streets and little shops.

“Don’t get too used to it. I can’t have you stay with me forever. Mom and Dad might complain, and my roommate might not be keen on having you for more than a week.”

“Your roommate or the guy on the team you’re renting a room from?”

He shrugged. “Same difference.”

The cab pulled off the main road and down a side street lined with pine trees, like a little oasis in the middle of the city.

I could still make out the outline of the city, but in the distance, the river Liffey and even mountains.

“Is this seriously where you live?” I managed to hold in my squeal as the cab came into a stop in a circular drive, in front of a modern, beige and wrought iron four-story building.

“Yeah. Nice, huh?” Michael said with a grin, grabbing our bags out of the trunk.

I spun around, my eyes not able to focus on one thing, taking in the smells of freshly baked bread from nearby restaurants and the light blue sky above me.

Ohio might have been where I grew up, but there was something about Ireland that felt like coming home.

“Are you going to stand there all day or help me get your bags so we can go inside?” Michael yelled.

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” I huffed after him and took the handle of my suitcase, wheeling it behind him to the large, airy entrance, then the elevator.

Michael pulled a card out of his pocket and swiped it above the floor buttons.

“Why are you doing that?” I asked.

“Penthouse access.”

“Penthouse?” My eyes widened as I stared at him.

“Yeah, the Captain does pretty well, I guess.”

I smiled, shaking my head. “You always call him the Captain. Does this Captain have a name?”

“Why, you gonna stalk him on the internet?” he scoffed.

“Maybe,” I said with a smile, nudging his shoulder again.

“You could just look at the roster, you know.”

I rolled my eyes. “I could. Or do you want me to just call him Captain all week? Oh, Captain, my Captain.”

“He isn’t around much. Spends a lot of time practicing, at the gym, or who knows where else,” Michael said with a shrug as we stepped off the elevator.

I couldn’t even form my next question because all the breath whooshed out of me when I took in the view from the floor-to-ceiling windows.

The mountains and river blended seamlessly with the skyline as if it were a perfect painting, and every detail was added to highlight the setting sun.

“This place is seriously gorgeous,” I said, flitting from the living room with its butter-soft black leather sectional to the wraparound porch, complete with a sitting area and fireplace. I could see myself cozying up with a book on one of the wicker outdoor couches and my morning coffee.

There was something ultimately magical about the place.

And it wasn’t even mine.

Or my brother’s, for that matter.

Michael gripped my shoulders, laughing. “You’re going to take my room this week, and I’ll sleep on the couch in Liam’s office.”

“Liam?” I asked, spinning around to see my brother’s frown.

“Yeah. Liam McCarthy. The actual owner of this place.”

I giggled. “So you’re finally giving me a name. That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Do you want me to show you your room and bathroom? Or are you going to just stand out here and gawk until we go to dinner?”

I sighed, reluctantly following him back inside. After the seven-hour flight, I definitely needed a shower.

And after I set my bags down in the small, plain room with similar views to the living room, I made my way to the bathroom, finally getting a little bit of alone time to pull out my phone.

I hummed to myself as I took out my ponytail, letting my blonde waves fall down my shoulders.

The bathroom was immaculate with gray granite tiles and a large waterfall shower.

But I wasn’t paying any attention to those as I stepped out of my leggings.

I was more focused on finally getting a glimpse of some of the guys on Michael’s team, especially the mysterious owner of the penthouse, Liam.

Scrolling through the team’s website, I saw some action shots and even headshots of the teammates. But if I wanted a real picture of the guy, I knew the answer wouldn’t be on the professional shots but somewhere else.

So I did a quick internet search and was not disappointed when I found that the guy had been featured in an underwear ad that I knew I had to click on.

I almost dropped the phone as my mouth gaped open at the perfect specimen of a man looking back at me.

His body looked like it had been molded by the Greek gods, the white underwear leaving little to the imagination. He must have known it by that dimpled smirk.

Those dark green eyes looked like they were directly staring into my soul, and I could almost picture myself running my fingers through his tousled dark brown hair.

Get a hold of yourself, Emily.

Liam was definitely older than my brother and more established if the nice penthouse said anything.

There was no way the guy was even going to look twice at his housemate’s little sister, especially since I was inexperienced. This was not what he was probably used to, with models and rugby fans throwing themselves at him.

At least they had to be with that panty-dropping smile.

But that didn’t mean I couldn’t imagine what could happen.

Sliding off my tank top and hoodie, I ran my fingers down my freckled stomach, imagining what it would feel like to have Liam’s rough hands doing it instead of my own.

Closing my eyes, I slid my hand farther down my stomach, taking in a deep breath as my fingers skirted along the bare skin below my navel.

My cheeks flushed even though it was just me in the bathroom. No one else could see me standing naked in front of the mirror, my phone still open to Liam’s underwear ad.

I wondered what his voice would sound like.

If he would whisper Irish terms of endearment in my ear while he touched me.

My whole body shivered as I dipped my fingers lower, wetness already pooling between my thighs from the thought of it.

How good it would feel to be touched, especially by someone like Liam finally.

Someone who had the house and job could take care of me.

My thumb slipped against my hardened nub, and a soft little moan escaped my lips.

Oh what it would feel like to have Liam there instead of me.

Would he touch me softly or just take me roughly, letting my body adjust to the hard lines of his.

I was so lost in my own thoughts that I didn’t hear the door slowly creak behind me.

But my eyes flew open when I met a turbulent dark green stare in the mirror, coming face to reflection with the man I was just diddling myself to.