Chapter 16: Steam curls around Vanja's naked form as Josip stumbles into the sauna, his towel slipping from his hips when he sees her bent over to pick up her sports bra. She makes no move to cover herself, instead letting her breasts sway as she turns to face him, a slow smile spreading across her lips. 'See something you like, Josip?' Joshua steps out from behind the cedar panels, his hand already stroking his thick length. 'She's mine,' he growls, pushing Vanja to her knees before the wide-eyed defender,
The scent of chlorine had become a ghost in her nostrils, a persistent reminder of the pool, of Aleksandar’s hands on her hips, his breath hot against her neck. For three days, Vanja moved through the facility like she was walking on shattered glass. Every glance from Joshua felt like a searchlight, probing for cracks. He hadn’t said a word about it. His silence was the most terrifying thing of all.
He was orchestrating something. She could feel it in the precise, calculated way he touched her now—a hand on the small of her back guiding her through a doorway, a thumb stroking the inside of her wrist during a team briefing. It was a possessiveness that felt less like passion and more like a farmer branding his livestock.
After a grueling two-hour training session under a relentless sun, the air in the locker room was thick with the smell of grass, dirt, and male sweat. Vanja peeled her damp jersey over her head, her skin slick and glowing. The main showers were a roar of noise and steam, but Joshua had already steered her towards the smaller, private recovery area, his fingers a firm band around her upper arm.
“The sauna,” he’d murmured, his lips close to her ear. “I want to talk. Alone.”
But he hadn’t come in with her. He’d left her in the dim, cedar-scented heat, the door clicking shut with a finality that made her heart skip. She sat on the highest bench, the wood almost painfully hot against the backs of her thighs. The only light came from a single, muted bulb behind a protective grate, casting long, dancing shadows. She waited, the sweat beading on her skin and tracing slow, meandering paths between her breasts and down her spine.
The door opened with a soft hiss, breaking the silence of the dripping water.
It wasn’t Joshua.
Josip Stanišić stood frozen in the doorway, his eyes wide with genuine surprise. He was younger, newer to the first team, his body still lean with the eager hunger of a player fighting for his place. A white towel was slung low around his hips.
“Oh—shit, sorry,” he stammered, his gaze instinctively dropping before snapping back up to her face, a flush creeping up his neck. “I thought… Joshua said this one was free.”
Vanja’s breath caught. This was the setup. The pieces clicked into place with a cold, sickening clarity. She didn’t move. She let his eyes, dark and stunned, travel over her. She was naked, sitting upright, her back straight, not making any attempt to cover herself. Her skin glistened under a fine sheen of sweat, her nipples tight from the heat, the dark blonde triangle between her legs openly displayed.
“It’s okay,” she said, her voice surprisingly steady. She even shifted slightly, a subtle arch of her back that pushed her chest forward. “It’s a shared space.”
Josip’s mouth opened, then closed. He was staring, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. The towel around his hips tented noticeably. He was utterly transfixed, his gaze raking over the curve of her waist, the swell of her hips, the long, powerful line of her legs. The air, already thick with heat, became charged with a raw, adolescent hunger.
From the deep shadows in the corner, a movement. A shift of darkness. Joshua stepped forward, a phantom materializing from the steam. He was fully dressed, his expression unreadable, his eyes fixed not on her, but on Josip. On the younger man’s blatant, helpless arousal.
Josip jolted, whipping around. “J-Joshua! I didn’t… she said…”
“I see,” Joshua said, his voice a low, calm rumble. He didn’t look angry. He looked… pleased. A collector admiring a particularly effective display. “Get out, Josip.”
The younger player didn’t need to be told twice. He fled, the door swinging shut behind him, leaving a vacuum of silence.
Joshua’s eyes finally settled on Vanja. The approval in them was hotter than the sauna’s stones. He walked towards her, his steps slow and deliberate on the wooden slats. He didn’t speak. He simply reached out and traced the line of her jaw with his knuckles, then down the column of her throat, over the slick skin of her sternum, until his thumb brushed over a stiff, peaked nipple.
“You perfect fucking whore,” he breathed, his voice thick with lust. “You knew exactly what to do.”
He grabbed her then, his hands rough on her sweat-slicked hips, and yanked her to the edge of the bench. The hot wood seared her skin. He fumbled with his belt, the clink of the buckle loud and urgent. He shoved his trousers and boxers down just enough to free his erection, already fully hard and straining. The head, flushed and leaking, tapped against her inner thigh.
“He was so hard for you he could barely speak,” Joshua grunted, positioning himself. He didn’t prepare her, didn’t use his fingers or his mouth. He just spat into his palm, slicked his cock with a few rough strokes, and guided himself to her entrance. “Did you like that? Did you like making that boy’s brain shut down with just a look at your cunt?”
He drove into her with a single, brutal thrust that stole the air from her lungs. She was tight, the sudden invasion a shocking, burning stretch. He filled her completely, his hips slamming against the backs of her thighs.
“Answer me,” he snarled, his hands gripping her ass, pulling her onto him with every punishing plunge.
“Yes,” she gasped, her own hands scrambling for purchase on the slick bench behind her. The heat, the sweat, the raw, animalistic fucking—it was overwhelming. Her body, traitorously, began to respond, the friction sparking a deep, coiling heat in her belly.
“Yes, what?” he demanded, his pace relentless, the wet, slapping sound of their bodies echoing in the small room.
“Yes, I liked it,” she cried out, her head falling back.
“You liked showing your pretty little pussy to another man while I watched?” He punctuated each word with a deep, jarring thrust. “You like being my dirty little secret? My slut to parade?”
“Yes! Joshua, yes!”
He changed his angle, hitting a spot deep inside her that made her vision blur. Her climax built with terrifying speed, a wave of sensation fed by the shame, the heat, the sheer dominance of his possession. She came with a broken scream, her inner muscles clenching rhythmically around his driving cock, milking him.
The feel of her orgasm triggered his own. With a guttural roar, he buried himself to the hilt and held there, his body rigid. She felt the hot, pulsing jet of his release flooding her, marking her insides as his, again.
He stayed inside her for a long moment, his forehead damp against her shoulder, his breathing ragged. Slowly, he pulled out, the sound wet and obscene in the quiet steam. He tucked his softening cock back into his trousers, his movements precise.
He looked down at her, sprawled on the bench, spent and glistening. He cupped her cheek, his touch almost tender.
“Good,” he said softly. Then he leaned in, his lips brushing her ear. “Pavlo is next.”
The words hung in the steamy air, a promise and a threat woven together. Vanja simply nodded, her body still humming from his possession, the heat of the sauna and his release mingling on her skin. He left her there, sprawled and glistening on the wooden bench, the door sighing shut behind him.
She didn’t move for a long time. The drip-drip-drip of water was the only sound, a metronome counting out the seconds of her complicity. Finally, she pushed herself up, her muscles protesting, and stepped into the cooler air of the recovery area. The transition was a shock, raising goosebumps on her damp skin.
She wrapped a towel around herself, the coarse fabric a poor shield. Her mind was a static buzz, unable to fix on any one thought—the pool with Aleksandar, the sauna with Josip, the look in Joshua’s eyes. It was a circuit of shame and a dark, thrilling current of power. She pushed open the door to the main locker room.
It was empty now, silent except for the distant hum of industrial cleaners. The benches and lockers stood in orderly rows, the chaos of the post-training rush tidied away. She walked towards her assigned locker, her footsteps echoing on the tiled floor. The sound of another, hesitant step made her freeze.
“Vanja?”
She turned. Josip stood a few meters away, still in his training kit, looking like he’d been waiting. His earlier bravado was gone, replaced by a nervous energy. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his eyes unable to settle on hers for more than a second.
“Joshua’s not here,” she said, her voice flat.
“I know. I saw him leave.” He ran a hand through his damp hair. “I just… I wanted to… fuck, I don’t know what I wanted.”
He took a step closer. The air between them tightened. She could smell the fresh soap on his skin, see the pulse hammering in his throat. His gaze dropped to the towel knotted between her breasts, then lower, to the bare skin of her legs.
“You can’t be here,” she said, but there was no force behind it. This was the script, wasn’t it? Joshua’s script.
“I can’t stop thinking about it,” he murmured, closing the distance until she could feel the heat coming off his body. “The way you looked at me. Like you knew what I was thinking.”
“I did know.” Her heart was a frantic drum against her ribs.
“Do you know what I’m thinking now?” His voice was low, rough with desire. He reached out, his fingers brushing the edge of her towel. She didn’t stop him. With a slow tug, the towel loosened and fell in a heap at her feet.
She stood completely naked before him in the silent, empty room. A sharp intake of breath was his only response. His eyes devoured her, tracing every curve and hollow, lingering on the dark blonde triangle of hair at the junction of her thighs.
“Christ,” he breathed. His hands came up to cradle her face, his touch surprisingly gentle compared to Joshua’s. Then his mouth was on hers, not demanding, but searching, hungry. She kissed him back, her hands fisting in the fabric of his training top.
He walked her backward until her bare back met the cold metal of the lockers. The shock of it made her gasp against his mouth. He broke the kiss, his lips trailing down her neck, over her collarbone, until he took one of her nipples into his hot, wet mouth. He suckled her, his tongue circling the tight peak, and a low moan escaped her.
His hands were everywhere, sliding over her ass, gripping her thighs. He dropped to his knees, his face level with her stomach. “I need to taste you,” he mumbled into her skin, his breath hot. “Please.”
He didn’t wait for an answer. He hooked his hands behind her knees and lifted, spreading her legs wide and pressing her back against the lockers for support. Then his mouth was on her, his tongue laving a broad, wet stripe through her folds. She cried out, her head thudding back against the metal.
“You’re so fucking wet,” he groaned, his voice muffled against her flesh. He buried his face in her, his tongue spearing into her entrance, then circling her clit with a frantic, desperate rhythm. It was messier than Joshua, less practiced, but the raw, unfiltered hunger of it sent jolts of electricity through her.
She tangled her hands in his hair, grinding herself against his face, her hips moving of their own accord. “Right there,” she panted. “Don’t stop.”
He didn’t. He devoured her, his tongue and lips working her into a frenzy. The coil in her belly tightened, unbearably so. Her climax built, a pressure wave gathering force, and then it broke over her with a violence that made her legs shake. She screamed, a raw, ragged sound that echoed in the vacant room, her body convulsing against his mouth.
He held her through it, drinking her in, until her tremors subsided. Then he rose, his eyes dark with lust, and fumbled with his shorts. His cock sprang free, thick and erect. He spat into his palm and slicked himself up, his gaze locked on hers.
“I need to be inside you,” he said, his voice thick. It wasn’t a question.
He lifted her again, her back against the cool lockers, and guided the head of his cock to her slick, swollen entrance. He pushed in, a slow, stretching invasion that made her gasp. He was thick, filling her completely, a different presence than Joshua.
“Fuck, you’re tight,” he grunted, his forehead resting against hers. He began to move, shallow thrusts at first, then deeper, harder. The metal locker rattled with every drive of his hips. His breath came in hot, ragged pants against her ear.
“You feel so good,” he moaned. “So much better than I imagined.”
His words, his obvious, overwhelming desire, fueled her own renewed arousal. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, meeting his thrusts with a fierce energy of her own. The wet, slapping sound of their bodies filled the silence.
“Harder,” she demanded, biting his shoulder through his shirt.
He obeyed, pounding into her with a strength that stole her breath. His rhythm became erratic, frantic. “I’m gonna come,” he choked out. “Where do you want it?”
“Inside me,” she whispered, the ultimate transgression. “Fill me up.”
With a guttural cry, he slammed into her one last time and held, his body rigid. She felt the hot, pulsing rush of his release flooding her depths, claiming the space Joshua had so recently occupied. He shuddered against her, his grip tight, his breaths coming in great, heaving gasps.
Slowly, he softened and slipped out of her. He lowered her to the floor, his legs unsteady. They stood there for a moment, panting in the aftermath, the smell of sex and sweat thick in the air. He looked dazed, overwhelmed by what had just happened.
He quickly tucked himself away, unable to meet her eyes now. “I… I should go.”
He turned and almost fled, his footsteps echoing down the corridor until silence returned. Vanja leaned against the lockers, his come trickling down her inner thigh. She felt utterly spent, used, and dangerously alive.
From the shadowed entrance to the players’ tunnel, a figure detached itself and stepped into the light. Joshua stood there, leaning against the doorframe, a slow, approving smile spreading across his face. He had seen everything.
“Good girl,” he said, his voice soft as a razor blade.
He didn’t move from the doorway, just kept watching her with that predatory calm, the ghost of a smile playing on his lips. She stood her ground, naked and slick with another man’s spend, feeling it trace a warm path down her thigh. The air was cold on her wet skin, raising goosebumps, but his gaze was a physical heat.
“You watched the whole thing,” she said, her voice hoarse. It wasn’t a question.
“Every second.” He pushed off the doorframe and walked toward her, his steps echoing in the vast, empty room. He stopped just inches from her, his eyes dropping to the glistening evidence between her legs. “You came so hard for him your knees buckled. I saw it.”
He cupped her chin, his thumb stroking her jawline with a possessiveness that felt more intimate than any fuck. Then he leaned in and kissed her, a deep, consuming kiss that tasted of victory and salt. She kissed him back, her hands coming up to clutch at his shirt, anchoring herself in the storm he conjured.
“I love you,” she breathed against his mouth, the words torn from a place she’d kept locked away.
He went still for a heartbeat, his intense focus sharpening, piercing through the game. “I love you too,” he said, the words low and raw, stripped of all performance.
She buried her face in his neck, inhaling his familiar scent of soap and clean sweat. “How do we get Aleksandar to join us?” The question was a whisper, a secret shared in the dark.
He pulled back slightly, his mind already working, calculating passes on an invisible field. “I think maybe through Josip.” His voice was quiet, pragmatic. “Invite them over. I’ll have to go to my parents this weekend anyway. Invite them over.”
“Jo,” she said, her voice small. “I wanted you to be there.”
“Hm,” he murmured, his hand sliding down to her lower back, pressing her closer. “You’ll tell me about it. And maybe…” He let the implication hang.
“Video?” she asked, a thrill of dangerous excitement mingling with the fear.
“Too risky,” he said, shaking his head. “But maybe… if it goes well…”
“Joshua,” she moaned, the sound part plea, part surrender.
He kissed her again, deep and claiming, his tongue sweeping into her mouth as his hands tightened on her body.