25
Five days later, Claire pushed open the door to the treatment room, tablet in hand, bracing herself for the familiar rush of adrenaline that came with checking on a player mid-recovery.
This time, it came with stakes that were a little different.
Jack was already there, leaning back casually on the table, a sexy smirk playing on his lips.
He looked entirely too relaxed considering that he had stitches that needed removal.
“Alright,” Claire said, setting her tablet down on the very desk he had her pinned to just earlier in the week, “let’s see if you’re ready for Paris.
” She approached him, hands moving with professional precision, checking the site, pressing gently around the surrounding tissue.
She carefully removed the stitches, and in her professional opinion, Jack was okay to do as he pleases.
Jack grabbed her waist and pulled her between his thighs.
“Am I dying, doc?” he flirted.
“Not today, Skid,” Claire responded.
“Mmm, I don’t like that.”
“Ok… Jack,” she said in a teasing tone. “Looks good though, it’s healing nicely. I’d say you’re cleared to play, just don’t push yourself too hard please.”
He pulled her close, nuzzling his face in her breasts, starting to place kisses on the exposed part of her neck.
“Hey, hey,” she said, remembering the door was unlocked. She pulled away and walked hastily to the door to lock it.
When she returned to the man sitting on her exam table, she thought for one moment, the feeling of passion they felt together. It had been five whole days since they kissed, and she could barely think about anything else. Just the distraction she needed.
Jack’s green eyes met hers, teasing. “Cleared to play, huh?” he murmured, voice low, lifting his face to hers. He shifted just enough, rolling his shoulder back, giving her a look that was equal parts challenge and invitation.
“You know,” he said, leaning towards her slightly, “we never finished what we started last time.”
Claire tilted her head and stared at him with a smirk, with a dare. “Oh yeah? I think I remember it differently.”
Jack stood up off the table in a dominating stance, sending Claire back. He swooped her up with both arms carrying her and threw her onto the exam table and placed kisses on her neck and her mouth, the whole way.
She squealed.
“Shh,” Jack hushed her and placed his body between her open legs. “Do not make a sound.” Claire obeyed. “Do you have a change of clothes?” Claire nodded in confirmation, pointing to the bottom drawer of her desk where she kept a couple pairs of extra scrubs.
“Good,” he said with a sheepish grin. Then he ripped the scrub bottoms right off her body and threw them to the linoleum floor.
Claire was already wet. She was wet the moment she started touching him, and now he was ready to comply. He kissed her mouth with a quick peck, then eagerly moved his whole head down between her thighs.
He started on the outside of her black lace panties. He kissed and nipped at the sensitive areas, leaving Claire wanting more. He pushed the cloth aside, exposing the trimmed hair between her legs.
Jack was ferocious. He licked the exposed bud, twirling his tongue in circles around her sex. She started to moan. Jack quickly shot a hand up to her mouth covering it.
“I am going to need both hands, Doctor,” he whispered to her. “Will you be quiet?” Claire nodded again in agreement.
His left hand was around her right thigh, pinching her clit between two fingers and with the other hand, slipped one finger into her slick core.
He licked and sucked and fingered her as she almost reached climax.
Claire used her left hand to cover her mouth, to keep her from screaming and with her right hand, grabbed Jack’s hair, pushing his face into her while she grinded.
He slipped another finger in and fucked her until she had a shattering orgasm.
Claire was breathless. Jack rose from his knees, licking his lips, and slipped his two fingers directly into his mouth to taste her cum.
He bent down to meet Claire’s eyes, sitting, her legs still spread on the table, utterly destroyed.
“Yum,” he said.
He kissed Claire passionately after that. His mouth still tasted like her cum.
Without saying anything else, he casually went to the bottom desk and got the pile of Claire’s clean clothes and handed them to her with care and tenderness.
Then he left. No teasing remark, no grin, no promise of later.
Just the stare of a man who might be yearning, the click of the door and the knowledge that whatever had happened between them had crossed a line that couldn’t be uncrossed.
She dressed slowly, deliberately, aware that Paris had loomed ahead. She would have to face the truth that she, in fact, kissed two different players on the Crusaders, and she didn’t know how to move forward.
The whistle cut sharp through the air.
Jack was late off the line.Again.
The ball came loose from the ruck and bounced awkwardly across the grass, and Jack, normally first to it, hesitated just long enough for Liam to scoop it up instead.
“Jesus, Skidmark,” Kelsey muttered as he reset. “You awake?”
Jack dragged a hand down his face, breath uneven. “Yeah. Fine.”
He wasn’t.
Every time the whistle blew, every time bodies collided, his mind snapped right back to her office. The door clicking shut, Claire’s hands in his hair, the way she’d looked at him afterward, the taste of her lingering on his mouth. Flushed. Quiet. Unsteady in a way he hadn’t expected.
He dropped another pass. It should have been an easy catch.
Inexcusable.
Noah’s head snapped up immediately.
“Focus,” Noah barked, jogging over as the drill reset. “That’s the third one.”
Jack laughed under his breath, shaking his head like he could physically dislodge the thoughts. “Yeah. Sorry.”
Noah turned away before Jack could see the tension in his face. He didn’t need the reminder. Jack’s distraction was loud, sloppy, and obvious. Noah’s lived deeper, lower, tighter in his chest.
Johannesburg.
The heat. The adrenaline. Claire’s mouth against his when it never should have happened. One moment of weakness he hadn’t stopped replaying since, because unlike Jack, Noah didn’t get to act on what he wanted. He had to bury it. To punish himself with it.
And today, that punishment came out in full contact.
The next phase exploded forward, and Noah hit it like he was trying to drive something out of his system. It was low, hard, technically perfect but violent enough to send a message. He cleared Jack’s missed tackle without hesitation, shoulder driving through a body that hadn’t braced in time.
“You’re not tackling properly either,” Noah said when the drill reset, voice lower now. Controlled. “You’re pulling out.”
Jack scoffed. “I’m not gonna flatten half the squad in a scrimmage.”
“You’re distracted, Skid!” Toby yelled over.
Jack lined up again, hands on his knees, heart still racing for all the wrong reasons.
When the play restarted, he went high, too high, missed the wrap, and nearly clipped Miko’s shoulder awkwardly.
The whistle shrieked.
Noah snapped.
“What the hell is going on with you?”
Jack straightened slowly, heaving his chest. His grin was gone now, replaced with something softer. Dumber. Almost… helpless.
He shrugged. “I just–”
He stopped himself, laughed once, breathless. He couldn’t stop thinking about her.
There it was.
“I’d recognize that look anywhere,” Liam said after a beat. “You’re playin’ like a lovesick puppy.”
Jack didn’t even argue.
Across the field, as the team reset again, Jack glanced instinctively toward the clinic building at the edge of the grounds, half expecting to see Claire there, tablet in hand, watching.
She wasn’t.
Noah followed Jack’s gaze before he could stop himself.
Anger flared, not at Jack, not really, but at himself. At the fact that he’d crossed a line in Johannesburg and then stepped back into captaincy like it hadn’t mattered. Like discipline could erase desire.
He clapped his hands once, sharp. “Get it together or get off the pitch,” Noah said. “This isn’t about you.”
Jack nodded in full focus, forcing his eyes back to the game.
The ball came flying again.
Jack’s hands closed a beat too late. Because somewhere between the whistle and the collision, he was still thinking about Claire.
And Noah hit the next ruck like he was trying to forget her entirely.
When practice was ending, the team hit the showers.
They ended up behind the shed, out of earshot of the others, the noise of the pitch dulled to distant thuds and shouts. Jack leaned back against the wooden wall, arms crossed, still breathing hard, but not from the scrimmage this time.
Noah stood opposite him, hands on his hips. He was waiting for Jack to start.
Jack broke first. “I know I’ve been a mess.”
Noah didn’t answer right away. He waited.
Jack exhaled a laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s the doc. I’ve got… a proper crush. Not the usual.” He looked up then, serious in a way Noah had rarely seen from him. “I swear it’s real this time.”
Noah’s teeth clenched, not in surprise, but restraint. He knew Jack’s track record.
“Skid,” he said evenly, “she’s staff.”
“I know,” Jack shot back quickly. “I do. That’s why I’m tellin’ you. I’m not muckin’ about for once.”
Noah stepped closer, voice low and firm. “The team can’t afford the mess up. Not for her, not for yourself, and not for the team.” His eyes locked onto Jack’s. “Your whole use-women, lose-women routine? That ends here. This isn’t a game.”
Jack swallowed, nodding. “I get it. I do. I wouldn’t bring it up if I didn’t.”
“Maybe this is just a phase,” Noah suggested.
“I don’t think it is this time, Cap.” Jack thought about the revolving door of women at his bed since joining the Crusaders. Claire was different, despite his natural tendencies.
There were things Jack didn’t say – about the lust filled morning he had with a beautiful doctor. He didn’t feel guilty about their passion. Not one bit.
There were things Noah didn’t say– about Johannesburg, about a kiss he still replayed when he shouldn’t, about how careful he was being for reasons Jack would never guess. He kept those locked down, buried beneath being a captain and a disciplined person.
“This team comes first,” Noah continued. “Always. If I think you’re risking that–”
“I won’t, Cap,” Jack said, quiet now. “I promise.”
They stood there for a moment, two men holding back truths neither was ready to share.
“Good,” Noah finally said, stepping away. “We are trusting you to not do anything stupid.”
Jack nodded once. Solid. Serious.
And as they walked around the corner into the showers, each of them carried the same name in their chest. They both left it unspoken, unresolved, and dangerous for entirely different reasons.