Chapter Text
So close I can taste it, I ain’t gonna waste this time.
For the second time in her life Rebecca sits at a Las Vegas bar with her cunt throbbing between her legs. The first time, she’d gone up to her room unsatisfied and she’s determined not to experience a repeat. She’s ever so glad the sports leadership conference they’d been invited to has given her the chance to rectify it. She’s even more glad that she’ll be able to rectify it with Ted as long as he’s willing (and she thinks he is). Most of the other attendees had already left or were leaving tonight, but one of the perks of owning a private jet is that she and Ted don’t have to leave until whenever the fuck tomorrow morning.
Rebecca looks to her right where Ted is sitting, contentedly sipping his triple of whiskey and relaxing under the lights of their hotel bar.. Even if she’s not able to get him inside her by the end of this entirely unnecessary trip (as if her giving her perspective on being in a male dominated business is going to change anything), she knows they’ll at least have a good time in each other’s company tonight. But even still, she fortifies her resolve by taking a large gulp of the one and only cocktail she’s allowing herself for the night.
Ted turns to her and smiles. “You know, I’m real glad we came and did this whole thing, boss. I had my reservations, you know that, but it actually wasn't half bad. And I got to meet some cool, interestin' people.”
And Rebecca has to laugh at him echoing her thoughts out loud in that folksy little way of his. She ignores the fluttering in her gut and shifts closer to him before she replies. “I’m pleased to be here with you as well, Ted.”
She watches his eyes drop to where their thighs are now touching and she sees his dimple wink at her when the corner of his lip quirks up. He seems to suck in a slow breath before he looks back up at her. “So you never told me what we’re doin' tonight. Goin' to a drag show? Goin' to a Sting show? Goin' on a gondola ride? Goin' to the wax museum? Goin' to a casino? I gotta tell you, Rebecca, as much as I love the song, I’m really not much of a gambler. Are we--?”
“Ted,” she interrupts him quietly, leaning into him and reaching out to grab one of his hands in hers. Just like always, he shuts up and gives her his full attention. Having Ted’s undivided focus on her goes straight to her clit and she knows with sudden certainty that her knickers aren’t going to survive the night. “We have a wax museum at home, I haven’t booked us to go to a show, we’re not getting in a gondola unless you absolutely must, and I wouldn’t mind going to a casino, but since you don’t gamble, I’m not sure that would be much fun for you. I was mostly thinking we’d have dinner and see where we end up afterward.” So I can bring you back here and fuck you stupid.
“Goin' with the flow. I like it.” He uncharacteristically falls silent after that and finishes his drink. Rebecca’s eyes track the line of his throat when he swallows and she can feel the flush in her cheeks spreading to her chest. She wonders if Ted will notice, wonders what he’ll think if he does.
“I like it, too,” she smiles down at their hands. She’s still got his left hand in hers and she’s dragging the nail of her middle finger across his palm. Back and forth, swirls and loops. “We haven’t seen each other much this trip. How have you found it?”
The conference had scheduled everything so tightly that when Rebecca was getting out of a panel, Ted was just starting one and vice versa. They’d only been assigned to one event together and even then, Ted was with the other managers and coaches, and Rebecca with the other team owners. By the time the days were over, they were too exhausted to do much more than share a quick dinner and retire to their respective rooms.
It’d been both an annoyance and relief for Rebecca. It gave her time to consider her plan to seduce Ted, but it also gave her time to consider her plan to seduce Ted. Not that she’d come up with a plan ( flanplanflanplan), per se, because she’d never needed one before, but she’d come to the conclusion that a seduction is worth an attempt. If she’s successful, she gets to shag her best friend silly and it will be glorious , but it’s an event that can be chalked up to too much drink and a suspension of normal boundaries due to the atmosphere. If she’s unsuccessful (perish the thought), it’s likely because Ted’s fucking oblivious and she doesn’t have to feel slighted by an actual rejection. Either way, it won’t do irreparable damage to their friendship, of that she is certain.
“To tell you the truth, I haven’t had much time to think about it. Doin' everything back to back to back takes up a lotta brain space,” he explains. “But it was great, of course. A real good opportunity that I would never have had if it weren’t for you, Rebecca.”
Warmth suffuses in her chest at his earnestness. She should be used to this sort of thing from him by now, but his sincere praise always takes her by surprise because she’s still trying to make herself believe it. “Knowing what I know of you, Ted, I believe you’d have gotten here all on your own at some point.”
Ted smiles bashfully and ducks his head, trying to hide how pleased he is by her words. Rebecca watches him open his mouth to reply and takes this almost perfect opportunity to gently dig her nail into his palm. Whatever word he was about to say becomes aborted and twisted into a choked gasp. His right knee jostles the table and a pretty little blush races up his throat and cheeks. It takes everything in Rebecca not to lean forward and sink her teeth into the chords of his neck.
Catching Ted off guard is always a pleasure, but when he picks up his empty glass to take a drink, something inside Rebecca trills in excitement. Without missing a beat, she tilts her head slightly, raises her arm, and waits one, two, three, fo--
“What can I get you, ma’am?” One of the passing servers asks.
“Another triple of whiskey, please,” she requests with a smile.
“Of course, Ms. Welton.”
When the server walks away, she turns back to find Ted fixing her with a bemused look. Knows what he’s asking without asking. “My father was friends with the owner of this hotel. I’m considered a VIP and by extension, so are you.”
“Oh, wow. I had no idea you had connections here in the States. Who else do you know?” He asks the question like he’s genuinely curious because he is. He is always at all times happy to know more about her. She knows in the beginning it used to annoy the shit out of her, but now she can’t even fathom summoning anything other than the rush of fondness and affection that always comes along with her interactions with Ted now.
“Who do you think I know?” She decides to play with him a bit.
“Cher,” he says almost immediately, causing her to let out a throaty laugh.
“I’m afraid not,” she has to tell him once she’s calmed down enough to do so. “But I appreciate that you think I’m cool enough to be acquainted with her.”
“Aw, come on now, Rebecca, you might be the coolest person I know. 'Specially knowing you got a direct line to Elton John. Shoot, that’s the second coolest thing you’ve ever told me,” he lets her know.
That surprises her and her eyebrows tell him just that. “Oh? What’s the first?”
If the conversation had been allowed to continue, Rebecca would have learned that the first coolest thing he’d heard from her was the first joke she ever told him when they met in person (“Ms. Welton is my father”). That had delighted the hell out of him and it had told him that no matter what happened going forward, he would be able to make a place for himself at AFC Richmond if the owner came out with dad jokes like that straight out of the gate.
Unfortunately for Rebecca though, Ted doesn’t get to respond because the server returns to their table with Ted’s drink. Fortunately for Rebecca, the drink is handed to her. She thanks the server and careful to maintain eye contact with Ted, she brings the rim of his cup up to her lips and takes a sip. The burn is predictable and familiar, but she still fights a wince as she swallows. Ted’s eyes are on his before they’re sliding to her mouth and fuck , she can feel her cunt clench around nothing when he licks his lips.
She shifts her hips to relieve some of the pressure between her legs, but the movement just draws Ted’s gaze and makes everything worse. The look is no more than half a second, but it sends a shock of heat through her abdomen and she’s now legitimately worried about leaking onto the back of her dress. A lace thong is only so much of a barrier.
Taking a deep, slow breath, Rebecca tries to calm herself. As keen as she is to take Ted to bed, she doesn’t want to overwhelm him too soon. She wants to keep him rattled and thinking about sex. With her. And to that end, she twists the glass around in her hand so her lipstick stain on the rim is now facing Ted. In a small victory, he takes the glass and sips from the same spot she did in a close approximation of a kiss. He doesn’t look her in the eyes when he does it, but seeing his mouth puckered against where her lips had just been is enough for her.
“So,” Ted starts after setting his drink on the table in front of them. “Dinner? What, uh, what did you have in mind?”
She tilts her head to catch his eye again. “What are you in the mood for?”
Ted blows out a gust of air that has a hint of a laugh in it and it makes her smirk.
“Coach Ted?! Y’all, it’s Coach Ted!”
Maybe it’s a different Coach Ted, Rebecca hopes against hope.
But then Ted turns in his seat and his face lifts in a smile at whoever he sees. “Hey, y’all!”
You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.
Rebecca looks in the direction of the bar entrance to see a group of four young women in their twenties coming their way. Fantastic. “Made some new friends, have you?” She tries for lightness, but based on Ted’s expression, she doesn’t quite manage. Oh, well.
“Yeah, they’re in the other suite on our floor– oh, hey. That thing you said about us being VIPs, is that why we both got presidential suites?” He wonders, brown eyes wide at the realization.
“Did you think I sprung for us to both stay in the most expensive rooms in this hotel?” Rebecca chuckles.
“Well, you’re a very fancy lady,” he easily points out and well, he’s got her there.
“Hey, Coach Ted,” a petite, dark-skinned woman greets him loudly as she and her three companions make it to their table.
“Hey, Brianna! Long time no see.” It’s obviously an inside joke because Ted and all four women start giggling. The fact that he’s only been here for three days and he’s already established inside jokes with strangers is so unsurprising and so very Ted and Rebecca must be some kind of smitten because all she can think to do is smile at him. That’s exactly what she’s doing when he turns to her, causing him to pause for a moment to take her in (Rebecca doesn’t know he’s seeing sparkling eyes and a sweet, closed mouth smile in his personal favorite genre: soft Rebecca). “Rebecca, this lovely bunch of high achievin' ladies are Brianna, Chelsea, Alex, and Sunny. They’re here celebratin’. And guys, this is one of the best people you’ll ever meet and the reason I’m even here this weekend, Rebecca.”
Well, fuck. He thinks she’s one of the best people he’s ever met? He thinks she’s one of the best people he’s ever met ? He thinks… one of the best… her? That’s just so… she really, really has to fuck his brains out tonight. If she doesn’t, she’ll melt into a puddle of want and die.
To stave off that possibility, Rebecca leans into Ted with an indulgent grin and addresses the group of women. “Ted’s a professional flatterer. It’s lovely to meet you all.”
“Oh, you’re British!” Alex, who is tall and willowy with a wide mouth and bright blue eyes, exclaims in surprise.
“Just tellin’ the truth.” He says it under his breath and he’s not even looking at her when he says it, but she hears him clear as day. It causes a blush to curl up the backs of her ears. She’s all at once shy and smug, and it bolsters her confidence enough for her to part her lips just a bit and press a kiss against that fucking darling little dimple of his. As she pulls back, she feels a shiver run through his frame and god, if that isn’t a heady rush of power. To know she has such an effect on good boy Ted Lasso.
“Duh, Alex. Coach Ted said he lives in England,” Chelsea (olive-skinned, high cheekbones, sweet face) rolls her eyes, nudging Alex hard enough to make the brunette stumble a bit. It sends them into a fit of giggles and it’s clear what they’ve been up to tonight.
“That doesn’t mean I’m supposed to know his girlfriend’s British,” Alex retorts in what can only be described as an outside voice, and then she bends forward over an empty chair to say to Rebecca, “it’s very cool that you’re British.”
“Thank you,” Rebecca replies with mock seriousness, squeezing Ted’s hand that she’s still holding when he shoots her a look for not correcting Alex.
“Coach Ted, we missed you in the elevator last night,” Sunny (short, medium skin tone, black and Korean American, mischievous spirit) semi-complains, leaning heavily against the back of a chair. “You should come out with us tonight!” And then, “and Rebecca, too obviously.”
“Yeah!” Brianna enthuses and then to Rebecca: “ We started this tradition—“
“You can’t call it a tradition after only three days,” Chelsea interrupts.
“Yeah, so anyway, almost every time we were in the elevator, so was Coach Ted,” Brianna explains, eyes shining with the joy of being tipsy but not yet drunk.
“Plus, it’s a coincidence, so it can’t be considered a tradition,” Chelsea continues as if Brianna hasn’t spoken. Sunny nods along like she’s listening, but her gaze is flickering around the bar.
Brianna huffs at her. “Okay Chelsea, can I finish? Damn.”
The small outburst makes the other three burst out laughing, which then causes Brianna to start laughing, despite herself. Rebecca’s chest aches with nostalgia at their display. She remembers nights out with Sassy when they were in uni, making friends with interesting strangers because they were young and drunk and having fun. But even still, they’re cockblocking the fuck out of her.
“Anyway,” Alex says, having gotten control of herself first. “What Bri was saying is that Coach Ted is our new friend and we know you guys are leaving tomorrow and can you please come get dinner with us before we part ways and never see each other again?”
“Dramatic,” Sunny comments in amusement.
Alex’s request is clearly directed to Rebecca because they think she’s Ted’s girlfriend and thus, they think she has a say in his dinner plans. And to be fair, she does have a say if only because he’d deferred to her earlier, but that means it falls to her to be the bitch that tells them no, which is fine with her if it gets Ted inside her quicker.
As if he can read her mind, Ted inclines his head to her. “Up to you, Boss.” And the fucker goddamn winks at her.
I’m going to come in your mouth, she threatens him silently.
“We weren’t planning to do anything too exciting for dinner,” she starts her polite decline.
Chelsea jumps in here. “Oh, don’t worry, we’re not going to a club or anything. It’s a really cool restaurant according to their instagram. The upstairs is where they serve food and then downstairs you can dance.” But it’s not a club. Got it.
“Their cocktails are gorgeous,” Brianna adds with her nose in her phone. “Ooo! And they’re doing a 90s night tonight.”
That piques Ted’s interest, it’s in the raise of his eyebrows and the look of intrigue in his eyes, but all he does is reach for his whiskey and take a drink. His understated reaction lets her know that it really is her choice to make and he doesn’t wanna influence her to do something she doesn’t want to do. It is a courtesy he always extends to her, but it’s so disgustingly thoughtful that it never fails to make something in her chest flutter just a bit. Except tonight she’s thinking with her clit so it also ignites a fire she can feel in her bones, but she forces herself not to be selfish.
“Well, who can miss 90s night,” she conjures a convincing enough smile, and then takes the glass from Ted and downs the remaining liquid.
The group of friends cheer as if she’s given them the keys to Nelson Road.
“That never stops bein' impressive, I gotta say,” Ted lets her know, nodding at the empty glass.
“Yes, well. It’s nice to know you appreciate my superior ability to swallow, Ted.” She’s deeply gratified by the strangled laugh he lets out.
xxx
Their new friends had planned to walk to the restaurant, so Rebecca finds herself walking down a street adjacent to the Vegas Strip, hand in hand with Ted following a group of twentysomethings he’d charmed and befriended. She wants to laugh at the ridiculousness of it all, but every time Ted squeezes her hand her vaginal muscles spasm like he’s already fucking her. It’s wreaking havoc on her ability to stay upright, not to mention she hasn’t had the presence of mind to pay any kind of attention to the conversation happening among her group.
By the time they get to the restaurant (that’s definitely not a club, but sure as fuck looks like one), Rebecca is severely regretting giving in to peer pressure. She’s pretty sure she can feel her arousal spreading across her inner thighs as they walk up the stairs to their table. When Ted pulls out a chair for her, she has to make a concentrated effort not to wobble as she lowers herself down.
Ted sits next to her and she tugs at him to move closer to her, but he misunderstands and just leans over to whisper to her. “You okay?”
“I want you closer,” she states bluntly and with absolutely no finesse, which really doesn’t matter because she’s fucking Rebecca Welton and everything she says sounds at least a little bit elegant. She clocks something she recognizes as longing spark in his eyes just before they darken. His gaze roves over her face for a long moment, absorbing what is surely the unbanked desire in her expression. She can’t be bothered to hide from him and she has no intention to do so. She'd planned to be more subtle about this, but now that their night is being drawn out, she can't be bothered.
“Yeah, okay,” he acquiesces, his voice low and just a little rough. He scoots his chair so close to hers that the seats touch. When he sits back down, there’s no other option but to press against her.
A tension she hadn’t realized was building between her shoulder blades begins to unknot itself and her desire becomes a steady thrum beneath her skin as she relaxes into him. When she turns her head, their faces are no more than half a foot apart. “Thank you,” she whispers and means it. Something about having him near fortifies her as much as it excites her.
“Mm-hmm, anything you need.” That promise burrows into her chest and nestles itself in the left chamber of her heart with all the other promises he’s never voiced but always kept.
“So how long have you two been together?” Alex chirps, from the other side of the table. Her question jolts them out of their little lust bubble and they both turn to see that Alex, Brianna, and Sunny have situated themselves next to each other on the other side of the table. Chelsea is sitting on Rebecca’s left side holding a tablet.
Rebecca cuts a look to Ted, prompting him to answer. “We’ve known each other for almost two years,” he answers truthfully, slanting a happy grin at her and god, he’s just so fucking adorable she can’t keep from nuzzling against his cheek before brushing a kiss where she can see a blush forming. “Gosh, Rebecca.” It comes out on a stuttered breath, like he’s overwhelmed but he likes it.
“Awww,” Brianna coos. “You guys are so cute.”
“What cocktails do we want?” Chelsea wonders, still looking down at the tablet that’s apparently a menu. “We can get bottomless pitchers.”
“Fine, but let’s do two different drinks just in case one of them doesn’t go with my food,” Sunny decides and her friends agree. To Ted and Rebecca: “Is that okay with you guys?”
Well, there goes Rebecca’s one cocktail of the night rule.
She nods her assent. “That’ll be just fine for us, ladies. We’re goin' with the flow tonight. Anything goes. Ain’t that right, Boss?” He drops his hand down onto her thigh and gives it a light squeeze. Like he’s testing her. Or himself.
The squeeze sends a bolt of heat directly to her clit and instead of clenching up, she leans into the sensation and hums into a grin. “If old hymns you like, if bare limbs you like,” she singsongs, loud enough to be heard by their dinner guests, but she rests her hand on top of his and together they give her thigh a harder squeeze and she knows he’s got the rest of the lyrics rattling around in that silly, musical theater-oriented brain of his. And sure enough, when she finally meets his gaze, his eyes brighten at her reference even as his throat bobs in a harsh gulp.
“You like musicals?” Brianna sounds remarkably like Ted when he’s excited to talk about something, but doesn’t want to unleash himself without permission.
“He does,” Rebecca says and then sits back while Ted and the girls get caught up in a passionate conversation about musicals.
The next hour passes in a lovely haze of food and drink and laughter and Ted attempting to teach their new friends about football because he actually has a pretty solid knowledge base about the sport now. But the girls are much too drunk to follow him even though by Rebecca’s measure, he’s doing a decent fucking job of explaining it despite the amount of alcohol coursing through his system.
Rebecca herself is just that side of drunk where she feels like she’s up for anything, but she’s not so blasted that she’s going to forget the events of the night. Exactly where she wants to be. Ted seems a little further gone than she is, but the night is still young-ish.
“Ted,” she says his name when there’s a lull in the conversation and just like always, his focus turns to her in a heartbeat. She’ll never get over how responsive he is to her when she says his name; it’s almost as if he’s always waiting to give her his attention. It makes her want to take him into her body and never let him go. Since that’s not a viable option at the moment, she leans into him to nuzzle her nose against his. “Hi.”
Something crossed between a huff and a groan falls out of Ted’s mouth and into hers where he hovers in front of her lips. She grins to hear it, his frustration running through her like a drug. “You teasin’ me, Welton?” Her surname sounding like a term of endearment in his mouth.
“Not teasin’ if I plan to follow through on it, Lasso,” she drawls in a near perfect imitation of his Midwestern accent. She delights in watching his face move through confusion, then shock, then intrigue to settle on desire. His irises darken with it, but there’s still some uncertainty lingering there.
“Rebecca,” he’s breathless with it and god, it’s like he’s whispered it directly against her cunt. She can’t keep her hips from twitching and she knows he can feel it for how tightly they’ve stayed pressed together even throughout their meal.
His gaze slips from hers down to her lips for a long moment that brings a flush to her neck, the heat in her belly simmering outward and down to her pelvis. His eyes then descend to the elegant line of her throat and further to get stuck on her cleavage for so long that it makes her laugh over the pulsing in her clit that makes her hips start to rock back and forth. Him biting his lip shuts her up quickly enough and then he’s looking down at her thighs, where she hopes his head ends up for a good portion of the night later. The image of that sinks into her mind and slinks down her spine to manifest in a flood of moisture seeping out from between her legs. It makes her head spin and she has the sudden wild thought that she might be about to come.
All it takes is Ted clamping his large, warm hand down on her thigh to set off an uncontrollable, almost painful rhythmic clenching in her vagina and she has to fight for her life to cut off the moan trying to claw its way out of her mouth. The overwhelming tingling in her core spreads and curls throughout her body, causing her to tremble, and as the waves of her orgasm crash over her, she leans bodily into Ted. Resting her head against his shoulder, she presses a low, shuddering moan into the fabric of his sweater and she feels him freeze.
Fuck.
Before her mind is able to clear the post-orgasmic fog and truly begin to panic, Ted slides his hand over the side of her leg and pulls her more firmly against him. Her legs part with the movement and she can feel her swollen lips slip against each other – the sensation goes straight to her head and doubles back to settle squarely in her still pulsating cunt. She’s never been this unbearably horny in her life. When he dips his head to speak, his breath is hot against the side of her neck and it makes her own breath stutter before she’s even properly regained it. “Help me out here, Rebecca, did you just…?”
His reluctance to voice what he thinks just happened (is still happening, god , the back of her dress is definitely damp) amuses her deeply. “Did I just what, Ted?” Goading him to say it, wanting to hear him say it.
He takes in a sharp breath and holds it for so long, he starts to shake with it. And then: “Did you just come, Rebecca?” He asks like he already knows the answer, but he can’t quite believe he’s asking it. “Because I gotta be honest, honey, it kinda seems like you did.”
“Got it in one, Lasso,” she snarks, tilting her head to the side to hum a kiss into the side of his neck. She pulls back from him just enough to be able to see his face as he takes in her confirmation.
His mouth parts in surprise, his pupils are so dilated they nearly eclipse his dark irises, and yes, the red in his cheeks and down his neck could be explained away by his intoxication, but also? It’s probably arousal. “Well, gosh,” he says it on the edge of disbelieving laugh. “You really ain’t teasin’.”
“I’m really not,” she sighs, her desperation to have him inside her roiling around in her gut despite having just come. “I was hoping to have you in bed by now.”
“That explains all the touchin’,” he nods and she recognizes he’s trying to reconcile what he’d thought and what’s actually happening. “And all the lookin’. And the hand-holdin’. I thought– well, no, yeah, this makes more sense. Just, uh… I’m a little drunk,” a little more than drunk. They both are. The glistening of his lips distracts Rebecca and she brings her hand up to swipe her thumb along his bottom lip. “Becca, I can’t, uh… can’t really focus when you’re doin’at.”
“Guys! Stop making out, we’re doing shots!”
Yanked out of their Ted-and-Rebecca-contained trance once again, the pair of them notice Alex has gone from the table, Chelsea and Brianna are passing something back and forth across the table, and Sunny is passing out shots of something that’s sure to fuck them up.
“Are we making a toast?” Sunny asks, grabbing a shot.
“Yeah, let’s toast to Coach Ted and his hot girlfriend,” Chelsea decides, bouncing in her seat excitedly. "We've already toasted to all our own shit already."
“Rebecca,” Brianna helpfully supplies, flashing a grin at Rebecca.
“Okay, a toast to Coach Ted and his hot girlfriend Rebecca!” Chelsea corrects herself.
“I’ll drink to that,” Rebecca smirks, raising her shot. The other three raise theirs as well and she quirks an eyebrow at Ted, asking without asking.
He doesn’t hesitate to comply, keeping eye contact with her when he raises his shot glass and then, when they all drink. Watching him take his shot with ease incites a mixture of giddiness and anticipation in Rebecca and when she puts down her glass, she rushes to push light, wet kisses to Ted’s cheeks and nose and neck. Ted’s laugh lights her up from the inside out and she simply must get him back to their hotel. Expeditiously.
“Let’s leave,” she requests, the words whispered into his chin, but he seems to hear her just fine because he nods vigorously and stands up, holding his hand out to steady her. Just as Rebecca takes his hand to stand, Alex returns to the table.
“I got us a reservation at a hookah bar,” she announces with relish.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Rebecca spits out under her breath, sending Ted into a fit of giggles. She wishes she could find the humor in the situation, but she doesn’t think he understand just how badly she needs to fuck him. Yes, she’s being dramatic, and yes, she's a bit pissed, but she’s pretty sure her need for him is rotting her brain.