Going All the Way (Knights of Passion Book 1) Page 11
“For me? I work for the team. The team’s success is my success.”
“Bullshit. What’s in it for you?” he repeated, more insistently, leaning down and capturing her gaze with his.
“Fine,” she huffed. “I need this job right now. My last one didn’t quite end on such a positive note.”
“I got that. When you were using me to forget.” He settled back on his heels and studied her, the glimmer of a plan forming in his mind. It was so much easier when you both had some skin in the game. “So, you need me as much as I supposedly need you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Her haughty expression made him laugh and want to mess her up.
“If I cooperate with you, you make your boss happy. If you clean up my image, I make the team happy and off my back so I can focus on my game. Okay, I’ll play along. But only for a small price.”
“A price?” she stammered, stepping back.
“Yup. Baseball players are pretty superstitious, did you know that? Well, I went four for four today.” He couldn’t resist the urge to brag. It had felt so damn good hitting those balls. It had been too long.
“That’s pretty good, right?”
“Yes, it is. I’m twenty homers shy of 500. And I want that. Badly. I had a big fat nothing the first couple of games. Then you come along and bam, four for four.”
“That’s a coincidence.”
“Ah ah ah.” He waggled a finger. “Ballplayers don’t believe in coincidences, remember? So, I’m thinking. You might be my good luck charm. I sleep with you and get offered a contract when no one else wanted me. I kiss you and I go four for four. I wonder… How far could that luck take me?”
Confident in his approach, he could afford to be magnanimous. He might even let her come a few times before he finished.
She stared at him, shock widening her gaze. “You’re kidding right? You think I’m a good luck charm?”
He shrugged. “For now at least. Luck is a fickle bitch, but players know not to mess with her, ever.”
Her gaze narrowed. “Well, I can be a plain old bitch. Don’t mess with me.”
He slid his gaze over her, turning on his best bedroom eyes that never failed to get a woman. “Then I’ll have to keep you happy. And make the long days on the road so much more bearable.”
*
Stacia paused for a moment. She knew what she had been asking for the minute she’d knocked on his door. And she was too much of an adult to play coy, especially when she had been reliving their one night for the past week. “Do you think you have it in you?”
He stalked around the bed, vaguely resembling the tiger she once watched stalking prey in the forest in a documentary. He stopped in front of her and caged her gently in his arms, his hands resting just outside her hips. She resisted the urge to squirm into his hands and sat on the edge of the bed and waited.
He leaned forward and breathed, “I can’t wait to find out.”
She released a shaky breath, then his mouth was on hers and he pulled her to him. Flavors exploded on her tongue. The cheeseburger. The bitter hops from the beer. The ketchup from the French fries. Instead of being a turn-off, she found herself aroused by the taste and by the barely leashed wildness she sensed lurking under the surface, the control he kept ruthlessly tamped down. She hadn’t sensed that in their first encounter, but since that day in her office, Jason was not a man to be led tamely by a leash, or by a restrictive contract. Like a wild animal, it would kill him or he would turn on his handler.
She would have to be careful not to be around when he exploded. Although the idea of experiencing an out-of-control Jason Friar was titillating and unbearably arousing.
She slid her hands up under his Polo-style shirt and curved around his back, tracing his muscles. He growled as she dug her nails in just a little and slid them down the sides and over his rib cage. She did it again. He grabbed her hands and pulled them out and over her head. As he leaned her onto the bed, she wrapped her legs around his hips and he slid her up the mattress.
He lay between her legs, holding her wrists in one hand while he took his other hand and stroked the edging of her suit jacket, slipping under the hem to trace the skin that heated for his touch. “You have no idea the fantasies I’ve had about what was under this jacket, so primly buttoned, a teasing hint of lace taunting any man who saw you. You wore this in the stands tonight?”
Breathless, she nodded.
He slid a finger under the edge of lace, stroking the top of her right breast. Her breath caught as he casually traced the edge. “Did you go to the concessions stand dressed like this?”
She nodded again and tried to wiggle. He grabbed her hip and pushed her firmly against him.
“No moving. I’m in charge.” His stern words only served to excite her further. She waited, tense with anticipation. “You teased those poor men at the concessions and in the crowd? You’re a bad, bad girl.”
“They seemed to like it.” She breathed, her body tense with expectation. Was he going to stop? God, she hoped not.
“I’ll bet they did. And you liked to tease them, didn’t you?” He slapped her hip lightly with one hand and she gasped then moaned as heat flooded her. She squirmed, trying to press into his hard body, but he slapped her again. At her moan, his gaze narrowed. “You like it a little rough? Well, hang on for the ride of your life.”
She nodded, eyes wide. He caressed her hip then slapped it lightly again and she couldn’t help the loud gasp from escaping. “No, no, I think we need to slow down a little.”
He released her and stood, pulling her to her feet, waiting until she was steady on her feet before stepping away. “Strip.”
She crossed her arms and stared at him defiantly, a shiver running up her spine, her panties dampening at the ideas Jason was putting in her head. But a perverse part of her had to push back, just a little, to see what he would do.
He took two steps forward and, with one flick of his wrist, opened the buttons on her suit jacket. She gasped. “How?”
He shrugged, back in his pose against the wall, acting as if he didn’t care what she did. “It’s a talent. Now, strip.”
Her eyes traveled his length, this time catching the fine lines of tension bracketing his mouth, the tight shoulders, and the impressive bulge in his jeans. They were both adults and she was tired of going to bed alone. She slipped the jacket off and tossed it on the bed. She raised trembling finger to the blouse buttons, but he held up a hand.
“Slower.” His voice deepened, letting her know he was as affected by the growing sexual heat in the room as she was.
Time to switch the tables on in-control Friar. She slid one button out of the loop, popping it free, then another, and another, hiding the freed skin from his gaze with her hand. Finally, she reached the waistband of her skirt. She tugged the tails out and spread the fabric over her shoulders, easing it down and to the floor. Without breaking eye contact, she stood and faced him, unzipped her skirt and let it drop, clad only in panties and a lace bra, and thigh high garters. She started to kick off her heels, but he held up a shaking hand.
“Leave them.” His voice had gone hoarse, and his body almost quivered with anticipation. He cleared his throat. “On the bed.”
She bent slowly over the bed, and glanced back over her shoulder. Jason’s eyes darkened, the color of deep amber. He didn’t move, only waited for her next action. She smiled. Let’s see him wait through this one.
She arched her back, wiggling her butt slightly, as she climbed on the mattress. That must have been too much because Jason lunged across the small space, his shirt flying off and he covered her, following her down, without crushing her. She shifted, but he pinned her lower body with his, resisting the movement. He bent low, buried his face in her hair and inhaled, then pressed a hot, devastating kiss to the base of her neck.
She sagged as her body exploded with heat. He grabbed her hands and moved them to the top of the bed. “Leave them. Don’t move or I’ll stop,”
he growled in her ear.
She shivered and obliged, her nerves singing in anticipation. The control implied in his rough tone excited her more than she ever expected. She normally hated being told what to do but giving herself over to him was freeing, and so exciting.
Jason didn’t make her wait long. He swept her hair to the side, pressing soft kisses to her neck and behind her ears. Her panties flooded with moisture and she squirmed beneath his firm legs that trapped her in place. His hard length poked through the jeans and into her butt. She nudged against it, trying to make him as crazy as he was making her. He squeezed his legs tighter, restricting all movement. “No more of that. Or tonight will be over before it begins.”
“Then get on with it.” Sexual frustration made her snap, irritated at the game playing.
He chuckled against her ear. “Makes me wonder what kind of men you’ve been with, Stacia. Clearly, not the right kind.”
“And you think you’re the right kind?”
He rubbed against her, and she moaned, desperate for closer contact. “I know I am.”
She wiggled again. His rock hard erection grew impossibly bigger against her. His grip slackened for a moment and she took immediate advantage, flipping over and landing on top of him. She turned until she was facing him, pressed against his body. His arms came up around her and he pulled her close for a drugging kiss. When they broke apart, both were breathing hard. He ran his hands up her sides to the straps of her bra. A quick flick and the bra gaped open in the back. He swept it away, allowing her breasts to rub fully against his chest, the sweet friction on her hard, sensitive nipples sending tendrils of fire to her core. She spread her legs around him and rubbed her center against the cock encased by his jeans, hitting the sweet spot, making her gasp.
He rolled her over. “I think you’re moving too fast. And you were naughty.”
Confusion, then recognition, dawned. She pushed aside her tiny sense of alarm that he could put her off-balance, easily taking charge away from her, the one who was always dominating the situation.
She pressed an open-mouth kiss to his jaw, sucking lightly at his pulse point. “You don’t seem to mind.”
He tugged her hands above her head. “Let’s try this again. Don’t move.”
He drew himself up on his knees and his hot gaze traveled down her exposed torso, igniting her nerve endings He stood and slid out of his jeans, no underwear on display. She arched an eyebrow. He shrugged, then snagged his toiletries bag, pulling out a strip of condoms. He tossed them on the side table and lowered himself back onto the bed.
“I thought you weren’t expecting anyone.” She frowned at the thought that he was always prepared, as if expecting someone else.
“I’m always prepared.”
He lowered his head and took a nipple in his mouth, swirling a tongue around the taut tip, then biting down lightly. She gave a small scream at the sharp bite of pain, but he soothed it with his lips and tongue. The next time he nipped, she was prepared and arched into his mouth for more. His other hand kneaded and massaged her other breast, plucking the nipple until it pebbled. Then he switched, alternating nips and sucks against the sensitive tip until she was squirming, awash in sensations buffeting her from all angles. She tried to move her legs, to ease the ache between her thighs, an ache that was intensifying every second, each tug sending shoots of electricity straight to her core, but his legs firmly encased her, not allowing any movement.
“Have you ever come from someone playing with your breasts alone?” he murmured against her skin.
It took a moment for the words to register through the sensual haze fogging her senses. She shook her head, unsure if she could speak beyond the moans she made with each twist and caress of her breasts, which she had never thought were that sensitive.
He smiled. “This will be a first for you then.”
He renewed his attack on her breasts, pushing them together, using fingers and tongue and lips to reduce her to a quivering, screaming mass within seconds, her world exploding into tiny fragments. When she finally came to, he was levered above her, a very satisfied smile playing about his lips. He glanced up at her hands, still above her head, twisted in the pillow. He nodded once. “I think a reward is in order.”
“More?” She shivered at the promise in his gaze, thrilled and excited at the playful side.
He laughed, a deep throaty sound. “Oh yes, more.”
Jason took her lips in a deep kiss, tongue stroking hers, stoking the coals of sexual desire, where they smoldered after her shattering orgasm. He kissed his way down her body, pausing to tongue her navel for a moment, another erogenous zone she never knew she had. He continued lower, finally reaching the spot that had been begging for his touch almost as soon as she’d walked into the room. He traced the outline of her panties with his tongue, dipping beneath to the sensitive skin along her groin. She reminded herself to thank Sophie for the spa day and waxing she had before the road trip. Who knew bare skin would be so erotic?
A ripping sound drew her attention back to the moment. Jason tossed her panties to the side. He parted her legs and her outer lips to gaze at her, a red flush covering his face. She tried to draw her legs closed, never comfortable with anyone looking that close, but he was too strong. In one motion, he leaned forward and swiped his tongue from her entrance up to the swollen bud at the top. She gave a strangled scream and almost shot up in bed, and buried her hands in his silky hair.
He glided his tongue into her entrance, deep, then swirling around the opening, pressing it to her hot, wet flesh. He flattened his tongue, the pressure more and more insistent as he traced her lower lips, avoiding the bud begging for his attention. She tugged his hair and he chuckled against her, the breath inflaming her nerves to a breaking point. At that moment, he sucked on the nub and sucked, one then two fingers driving deep. She exploded around him for a second time with a loud cry.
She had barely come down when he sheathed himself in a condom and drove into her in one long stroke. She cried out at the sensation, the sensitive tissues stretched and filled. He sank hard and deep, then slow, twisting lightly before plunging inside again.
“I can’t go slow, Stacia. I can’t.” His voice sounded strangled and hoarse.
She wrapped her legs around him and lifted her hips to meet his thrusts. “Then don’t.”
As if her words had unleashed the beast, he drove harder, deeper and with a few short strokes, he was coming, and she was coming around him, letting herself fall into the well of sensations, pulsing deep within her. He collapsed to the side, pulling her with him. His hands drifted down her back, fingers caressing her spine, more of a reflex, calming motion than for anything she needed. She was boneless, draped across him, no desire to move, fully sated for the first time in forever. Her eyes tugged closed and she drifted away.
*
Stacia stood in front of the hotel room’s full length mirror and manipulated her hair into a French twist. Jason lay on the bed, partially covered by the sheets, his gaze scorching her, luring her back to bed. She stifled a smile at his little boy pout while she put the finishing touches on her makeup and hair. “Forget about it, Jason. I have things to do, namely your reputation.”
“How about you just do me and to hell with my reputation?” She gave him an admonishing look. He grunted. “Fine. What do you have in mind?”
She walked over to the bed and sat on the edge, just out of reach. “You’re willing to work with me on this?”
“Within reason.” His voice was raspy and sexy, and scraped along her nerve endings.
A thrill of excitement coursed through her. Finally, success. Now to break the news of her plans to him. “Per your dictates and your contract, we want to stay low-key. So, instead of a lot of photo ops and charity events, which, to be honest, you don’t even have time for, let’s focus on your play on the field.”
“You’re kidding right?” He barked a laugh. “You’re going to tell me how to play baseball?”
“You went four for four last night with a homerun didn’t you?” She smiled, satisfied that she’d made her point. “No, I don’t plan on telling you how to play. But, despite your hitting, you got slammed by the press and the commentators on your game.” She held up her tablet. “Look at this. ‘Friar proved he could still hit, but he dogged it around first. That single should have been a double, which could have led to a run.’”
She handed him the tablet and he scanned the article. “One of your bad raps is that you’re not a team player. You said no one cared about your off-field activities when you were producing. Well, if we ignore your off-field activities, you still have room for improvement on the field, namely starting with this article. We need to manage that kind of reporting, don’t give them an excuse to write such things about you.”
He tossed the tablet on the bed and stood, carelessly letting the sheet fall away. Stacia glanced away before he could see the hunger surely reflected in her gaze, belying her words just a few minutes ago about not having time.
Ignorant of his nudity, he stalked to the desk, then back again. “I just returned. My legs aren’t there yet. I didn’t think I could make it to second.”
“You didn’t even try,” she quietly pointed out.
He whirled around and glared at her. “Now you’re my coach? I know what I can and can’t do. I would never dog it and hurt the team.”
“Are you sure? Maybe you’re protecting yourself and your career. Is this job a throwaway one for you, a way to worm your way into the sport again?” She stood and walked over to him, running her hand up his tense and twitching arm. “You’re probably right.”
“Probably?” He yanked out of her grasp.
She ignored his interruption and continued. “It looks like it. And yes, I am aware that reality and perception are two different things, but I am here to help you manage those perceptions.”
“What do you care? As long as I keep my nose clean off the field, management is happy.”