The Last Refuge
Clara
I’ve left the living room lamp on with the light dimmed—just enough to create an intimate, cozy atmosphere without making this feel like a police interrogation.
Outside, the rain continues to lash against the windows, providing a background murmur that’s perfect for slowing the pace of my thoughts while I wait for her.
It hasn’t even been two hours since I left the sports complex, and my legs are still shaking just thinking about it. I’ve crossed the line—there’s no turning back now—and for the first time in my whole damn life, I’m not afraid in the slightest. I just feel a happiness that makes my chest swell.
The rumble of the elevator tells me that Alicia is already here.
Seconds later, I hear a few timid knocks on the wood.
When I open the door, there she is; her hair is dripping wet, her cheeks are flushed, and she’s wearing that mischievous little smile that sends shivers down my spine in an instant.
She’s wearing a sweatshirt and sweatpants, as if she’d run straight out of the locker room without a care in the world about her appearance.
“Hi…”
“Come on in,” I say, stepping aside as I close the umbrella she’s holding. “My goodness, you’re soaked.”
I close the door behind her, and we stand there in the entryway, staring at each other as if we’re processing the tsunami of events from the last few hours.
The tension that’s built up over the past few days hangs thick and electric in the air.
I take a step forward, closing the distance between us, and gently brush aside a damp strand of hair stuck to her forehead.
“Clara…” she begins in a hoarse voice, but I don’t let her continue.
I wrap my arms around her waist and pull her toward me in the kind of embrace that puts your thoughts back in order.
Her arms wrap around my neck in a split second, holding me tight with wild intensity, as if she’s afraid I’ll vanish into thin air.
I rest my chin on the top of her head and take a deep breath, intoxicated by her scent.
“I swear I’ve never felt so alive in my entire life,” I confess, burying my lips in her hair. “You can’t imagine how much I enjoyed seeing the look on their faces when I kissed you.”
“Well, the best part came after you left. You missed the third act of the drama,” she remarks, pulling back just enough to meet my gaze with a twinkle of mischief.
“Oh, really? Have the critics already started bashing it?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.
“Not at all.” Alicia slides her hands down my arms, sending shivers down my spine as they pass. “But I think it’s become clear to the club and the higher-ups that there are some things you can’t buy, not even with all the money in the world.”
I take her hand, intertwining our fingers, and guide her toward the living room. We sink onto the couch—that blessed piece of furniture that has witnessed us giving ourselves to each other and where I’ve spent the last few nights thinking about her.
“Reading what you said in the press was like getting slapped in the face with reality,” I admit, stroking the back of her hand with my thumb.
“You forced me to imagine my life without you. I was scared out of my mind, but the truth is, I was denying myself my own happiness. And look, I’m not going down that road anymore. ”
Alicia lowers her head for a moment, taking in my words as she traces concentric circles on my skin.
“I didn’t want you to give up your career because of me, Clara,” she says, looking up to give me a tender smile.
“But I understand that, in this damn world—designed by and for men—the moment a woman stands out or steps out of line, they come down on her with a vengeance. You’d already suffered enough for putting your faith in the wrong person, and I know what it’s like to wait for someone to stand up for you.
I wasn’t going to let you go through the same thing you went through in the past.”
I shake my head, smiling with a flutter in my chest, and lift her chin with two fingers to make her look me straight in the eye.
“I’ve spent years convincing myself that I’m capable of separating work from my heart.
But with you… with you, it’s been mission impossible from the very first minute.
Every time you got on my exam table, every time I examined your knee and felt your skin, every argument we had…
everything pulled me toward you. My heart would leap into my throat every time I saw you.
And you”—I give her a playful tap on the nose—“have done everything possible to make it hard for me and make me lose my temper.”
I lean toward her without waiting any longer and kiss her.
It’s a slow kiss, the kind you savor calmly but that’s loaded with pure dynamite.
Her lips part instantly, inviting me in, and my tongue explores her mouth with a slowness that clouds my judgment.
She tastes fresh, like mint, and like that wild sweetness that drives me crazy.
When we pull apart by barely a millimeter, I rest my forehead against hers, breathing the same air.
“I love you like crazy… Alicia Puertas,” I whisper, confessing my feelings to her once again. “And I mean it. I’ve been hooked on you ever since the first day you showed up at Ravenhill FC, getting on my nerves.”
“I still can’t wrap my head around the fact that you did what you did today in front of everyone…” she admits, biting her lower lip with a mix of shyness and desire. “God, Clara, tell me I’m not dreaming. Do you really love me? With my chaotic life, the press hounding me, and all my problems?”
“I love you and only you,” I assure her, planting a quick kiss on the corner of her lips.
“I want to celebrate your goals, comfort you when you miss a penalty kick, be there when your knee acts up, and do this on nights like tonight. I’m not your physical therapist anymore, Alicia.
Now I want to be the woman who brightens your days. ”
Our lips seek each other out again, but this time things heat up fast. The kiss becomes hungrier, more urgent—the kind that burns you from the inside out.
My hands travel up her arms until they tangle at the nape of her neck, pulling her closer to me, devouring her.
Alicia lets out a soft moan against my mouth, and that vulnerable sound sets my blood on fire.
I gently push her until she falls onto the sofa cushions.
I position myself on top of her, wedging one of my knees between her thighs to hold her in place.
My fingers slip decisively beneath her sweatshirt, caressing the burning skin of her stomach.
I feel her abdomen tense at my touch and her breathing grow ragged.
“Clara… please,” she gasps as my lips leave her mouth and trail down her neck, alternating wet kisses with gentle nibbles right on the sensitive spot below her ear.
“Let me love you…”
I pull off her sweatshirt with firm movements, revealing that golden skin and those muscles chiseled by professional training.
My hands trace her sides, memorizing every line of her body.
Alicia arches her back suddenly as my lips envelop one of her nipples, sucking with exasperating calm while my free hand moves straight down toward the waistband of her sweatpants.
I lick the tip of her breast, tracing circles with my tongue before sucking a little harder, relishing the way she writhes beneath me.
“I needed you so much…” she confesses, out of breath, pulling my T-shirt up to free me from it. “Not just this… I wanted to feel you, knowing that you’re mine.”
I shed the shirt and press myself against her again, skin against skin.
The contact is like a jolt of electricity.
Her breasts press against mine, and her nails dig subtly into my back as my hand finally slides inside her underwear.
She’s burning hot, soaking wet, and completely ready for me.
I slowly slide two fingers between her folds, gently parting her, and then thrust them in all at once, feeling her walls welcome me, squeezing me tightly.
“God, Clara…” she moans, starting to move her hips against my fingers in a frantic rhythm. “There… right there, damn it. You have no idea how many times I’ve fantasized these past few days about having you like this again…”
I watch her from above as I enjoy her like I’ve never dared to before.
Her eyes are half closed, her lips slightly parted, letting out constant gasps, and a beautiful blush colors her cheeks and trails down her cleavage.
She looks spectacular. I slide in a third finger and pick up the pace, using my thumb to apply steady pressure to her swollen clitoris.
Alicia clings to my shoulders as if her life depended on it, burying her face in the crook of my neck as her whole body begins to tremble.
“Don’t stop, Clara… please…” she pleads between broken moans.
“I’m not going to stop, my love,” I whisper in her ear, giving her earlobe a gentle nibble. “I want to see you come for me. I want to hear you scream my name.”
Her vaginal muscles tighten as much as they possibly can around my fingers, and with a long, deep moan that echoes throughout the living room, Alicia comes, reaching a mind-blowing orgasm.
I hold her tightly against my chest as she shudders in the throes of her climax, whispering how much I love her in her ear and kissing her damp hair until the trembling subsides.
When she opens her eyes, her look of absolute devotion melts my soul.
She grabs me by the lapels and kisses me with renewed urgency.
Before I have time to process what’s happening, she uses her athletic strength to flip us over on the couch, reversing our positions.
Now I’m the one on the bottom, trapped beneath her body.
Her hands go straight for my pants, pulling them down along with my panties in one impatient tug.
There’s no time for preliminaries here. Alicia spreads my thighs authoritatively and lowers her head between my legs with a determination that makes me hold my breath.
The first lick of her tongue—hot and firm against my clitoris—rips a hoarse moan from me that I don’t even recognize as my own.
She takes her time, savoring me with devotion and teasing my swollen lips.
Immediately afterward, she slides two fingers inside me with astonishing ease, adding a third and curving them toward the exact spot that makes me see stars.
“Alicia…” I gasp, arching my pelvis toward her mouth as pleasure builds in my lower belly. “Damn… your mouth… don’t stop, for God’s sake.”
“Enjoy it,” she murmurs against my wet skin, without slowing her rhythm for a second. “I want to hear you scream. I want you to come all over my face, Clara.”
The orgasm washes over me like a freight train, leaving me trembling from head to toe and without a shred of a voice.
Alicia slowly makes her way up my body, planting kisses on every inch she travels—my hips, my stomach, my chest—until her lips find mine.
We kiss slowly, savoring the moment and sharing the taste of my own arousal on her tongue, our bodies drenched in sweat and our hearts beating in unison.
We stay pressed close together on the couch, naked, our legs tangled in a sailor’s knot. My hand caresses her back, tracing invisible shapes, while her head rests on my chest, listening to my heartbeat.
“So what do we do now? How do we handle this?”
“Well, just like normal people do,” I reply instantly, planting a kiss on the top of her head. “We’ve already made it official. I’m not going to hide. If the newspapers want to talk, let them talk and make up whatever they want; we know exactly what’s going on.”
Alicia lifts her head to look at me, and I meet her gaze—her eyes brimming with love and a sense of peace I haven’t seen in her for months.
“I swear, I never thought signing with Ravenhill FC would bring me the best trophy of my career,” she confesses, biting her lip. “A real relationship, where I don’t feel like a weirdo or like I’m alone. You make me feel cared for, Clara.”
“I’m here…” I whisper, running the backs of my fingers across her cheek. “And not even the league president could move me from here. We can go at whatever pace you want—slowly or rushing through the stages. But together. Always together.”
We kiss again, this time with an infinite tenderness that brings tears to my eyes.
Tonight, in my living room, amid confidences, sweat, and caresses, what we share becomes something unshakable, real, and deeply ours.
And that’s when I realize that our future, no matter how chaotic it may seem, has a fixed course: her.