Scrummie by Kitty Charing

Author:Kitty Charing [Charing, Kitty]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Novella, BDSM, Spanking/Discipline
Amazon: B0DCFZ7PYG
Goodreads: 217264710
Published: 2024-08-05T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Three

Early the next morning, the phone rang and I picked it up blearily.

“Good morning, angel. There’s a car out front for you. Get your pretty little ass in it and come watch the quarterfinals.”

“Who is this?” I asked, rubbing my eyes, but I’d know that gravelly tone anywhere.

Alani laughed, her deep and throaty voice making me have to swallow convulsively.

“It’s the woman who’ll put a quarterfinal match on hold to come and spank that little ass until you get in the car.”

“OK, fine,” I said, throwing on leggings and a tank top.

It was a big luxury SUV, and the celebrity treatment didn’t end there. When I got to the stadium I was escorted into the best seats with the husbands and wives of the players and also the celebrity guests.

A nervous-looking guy with glasses and a clipboard came up and said his name was Rupert and he had been assigned by Alani to answer any questions I had.

I mean, yeah, I had some questions.

For example, what the fuck was rugby?

As the crowd began to get pumped for the quarterfinals match, Rupert the stats guy leaned in and attempted to give me a crash course in rugby sevens.

I listened to the bewildering barrage of information, but when the crowd started to roar he dropped his clipboard in excitement.

“THE UNITED STATE OF AMERICA!” the announcer blared as the US team ran out in their navy-blue jerseys.

My pussy clenched as soon as I saw Alani, tightening my thighs together so I wouldn’t start dripping on the seats.

Her face looked fierce and set, a little line between her dark brows, her thick long ponytail bouncing behind her as she ran out onto the field.

God fucking damn, she was so hot, the way her strong arms pumped, the way those athletic shorts clung to her thick ass as she did a few warm-up jumps.

“How did you land her?” a tall beautiful blonde woman asked me.

“I-er, I don’t know,” I admitted, feeling butterflies in my stomach as Alani bent over.

“I’m married to her,” the woman said, pointing to a pretty auburn-haired player, “but I’ve been a rugby bunny for a long time. Never thought I’d see Alani go domestic. But if she’s going around giving orders that we’re all to treat you like the goddamn queen, she’s going domestic.”

I didn’t have time to admit I was just as confused when Alani began to head in our direction.

A big guy stepped in her way, someone huge and intimidating looking.

“That’s the French national coach,” the stats guy leaned in and hissed in my air. “They have bad blood from a previous match.”

Now this was the kind of man I would have absolutely turned tail and run in the other direction from, especially when he leaned over her, getting in her face, trying to intimidate her.

But Alani didn’t give a shit, chest-bumping the opposing coach to force him to move back, getting right in his face.

I gasped audibly.

How the fuck could someone this tough and strong be into me?

He backed away, his hands up, and she turned to walk in my direction.

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