Caught Looking: Dallas Longhorns

by Tara Wyatt

  “Hey, you asked.” Something twisted inside her wanted to purr at the obvious strain in his voice.

  “Yeah, and now I’m picturing you all naked and wet and soapy. Not helping our ‘just friends’ resolution.”

  “I’m not soapy. Not yet, anyway,” she said before she could stop herself. Heat emanated from her core throughout her body, making her pulse and tingle.

  He made another low sound, his arousal evident. “This is not a friendly conversation.”

  He was right, but he made her weak. Made her want things she couldn’t have. Made her feel alive and sexy and daring. She plucked at her nipple with her free hand, feeling a dart of pleasure shoot straight down her body to her throbbing clit. She was already worked up and barely anything had happened.

  “Isn’t it?” she asked, feigning an innocence she had no right to.

  “Friends don’t have phone sex and get each other off.”

  His words made her heart pound in her chest and her breath catch in her throat. She closed her eyes and pulled in a shaky breath, trying to remind herself that they shouldn’t be doing this. She should hang up the phone and go to bed. She’d almost mustered up the strength to end things there, but then Jake kept talking.

  “Fuck, Abby, the things I’d do to you if I was there right now.” His voice was low, rough around the edges and she couldn’t stop the little moan from escaping her lips. Her stomach exploded with butterflies at the need in his voice. She hadn’t been with him since Colorado, and her entire body was on fire for him now.

  “Tell me,” she breathed, her entire body pulsing with need, with missing him, with wanting him. She closed her eyes, focusing on his voice in her ear.

  “I’d soap up those gorgeous tits, make them nice and slippery, and then I’d fuck them. I’d slide my cock between them until it wasn’t enough.” She heard a rustle of fabric and something that sounded a lot like the soft clink of a belt buckle.

  “Are you touching yourself?” she asked, sliding her own hand under the water and down her body, cupping the heat between her legs, teasing herself with the palm of her hand.

  “Yeah,” he said roughly. “I’m so goddamn hard right now.” His voice was low and gravelly, and it made her that much more aroused. She parted her lips and circled her fingers around her swollen clit.

  “Me too. Touching myself, I mean.” She moaned. “It feels good, but not as good as when you touch me.”

  “Fuck, that’s hot.”

  She bit her lip and let out a whimpering moan. “What else would happen if you were here?”

  His voice was raw when he answered. “I’d put you on your knees and fuck your pretty mouth.”

  She moaned again, circling her clit faster. It was heady, intoxicating being the object of Jake’s fantasies. “You feel so good in my mouth,” she purred. “I want to swallow you, but you’re too big.”

  He groaned. “I love the way you suck me. So perfect.”

  “And then what happens?” Her voice was breathless and soft.

  “When I can’t take anymore, I spread your thighs and taste you. I’d tease you with kisses, and then I’d lick your clit and suck you until you come on my tongue.” He moaned, a gruff, masculine sound. “I fucking love how you taste.”

  She let out a shuddery moan, working her fingers in firm circles against her aching flesh, feeling her orgasm get closer, hovering at the edge.

  “And then I would lay you out on the bed and slide inside you.”

  “And then I’d roll you under me and ride your cock.” She clenched, wishing he were inside her right now, filling her up. “I love how you feel inside me. How full and tight you make me feel.”

  He breathed heavily on the other end. “Yeah, fucking ride me, sweetheart. Fuck, I’m gonna…” He let out a strangled sound that she knew meant he was coming, and the sound of Jake’s orgasm pushed her over the edge. Pleasure exploded through her as her clit pulsed, hard and heavy, against her fingers. The sounds of labored breathing filled the line, and she touched herself a bit more, slower and gentler, riding out the last waves of pleasure.

  “And then I’d kiss you,” he said, his voice still raw. “I really wish I could kiss you.”

  His voice tore at her, leaving her feeling scraped raw from the inside. “Me too. I just really wanna kiss you.”

  A silence fell between them. She shifted in the tub, noticing for the first time that the water had started to cool.

  “Good night, Abby.” She could hear the longing in his voice, and it made her want to get dressed, get in her car and drive to wherever he was so she could fall asleep in his arms. She squeezed her eyes shut tight, fighting back the emotion pressing up through her chest.

  “Good night, Jake.” She disconnected the call and headed for bed, sated but alone.

  Four

  The next morning, Jake stepped into the clubhouse’s gym and immediately locked eyes with Abby, the gym’s only other occupant, who was running on the treadmill in a sports bra and a pair of leggings. His eyes roved over her toned, athletic frame as she jogged, a faint sheen of sweat clinging to her collarbone. He wanted to lick the sweat from her skin, wanted to taste her and smell her and…shit. Nope.

  He’d planned to come into the gym this morning to work through everything he was feeling about what had happened last night. Not that he regretted it—he didn’t regret a damn thing when it came to Abby. And given that they’d been in a long distance relationship for months, that wasn’t the first time they’d had phone sex. But it was most definitely the last, and he didn’t know what to do with that. He’d hoped a punishing workout might clear things up.

  He hadn’t banked on running into her here. Granted, there were a lot of things he hadn’t banked on, like being in Dallas at all. Like losing her swiftly and suddenly because sometimes life sucked.

  “Morning,” she said, slightly out of breath, her eyes glued to him. Her panting breaths, the sweat coating her skin, the way her breasts bounced as she moved made his blood flow south. He couldn’t help but remember the times she’d looked just like that. Under him. Above him. Beside him.

  But even worse was the undertow of those memories. The soft smiles and whispered secrets in the dark. The laughter and ease.

  “Morning.” He dropped his small duffel bag onto the ground and sank down onto a bench, pulling on his knee braces and his running shoes. He could feel her eyes on him as she kept up her pace on the treadmill.

  He stepped onto the treadmill next to hers, making a show of checking out her speed and incline and then putting his up just a little bit higher. She smirked.

  “Easy, old man. Don’t give yourself a heart attack.”

  “Hey, I’m not that much older than you.” He pushed his speed up another notch, wanting to compete. Wanting to run the relentless need for her out of his system, because if he didn’t, he didn’t know how he was going to survive being around her every single day.

  “Three years and I don’t have catcher’s knees. I played second base.”

  Well, shit. Now he had something to prove. Then again, he always worked out and played like he had something to prove. It was one of the reasons he knew he was on the Hall of Fame track. Which should have been a positive thought, but it was just another reminder that the end of his career was fast approaching.

  Abby’s breath came in short pants that immediately brought him back to last night, and he couldn’t tear his eyes away from her. She glanced over at him. “What?”

  “You know what.”

  “Not going there. Let’s just leave it alone, okay?” Her words and tone were casual, but there was a plea in her eyes.

  “Okay, Abby.” He jumped off of his treadmill, landing his feet on the stationary edge on either side. “But I’m not sorry about what happened. I probably should be, but I’m not.”

  She kept running, her gaze trained ahead. “Nothing to be sorry for. I started it.”

  “And we both finished it.”

  She licked her lips, still
not looking at him. Bastard that he was, he wanted to get a rise out of her. Wanted to know that she was as wound up over him as he was over her. He leaned a bit closer. “I wasn’t kidding when I said I wished I was there.”

  Her head whipped around, heat and a warning flashing in her eyes. There. He’d gotten the reaction he wanted, but it didn’t make him feel any better.

  She hit pause on her treadmill and hopped off, heading towards the weights, apparently intending to ignore what he’d said. She’d always been the smarter one of the two of them. “Whatever you said to Nate yesterday worked. He had a great game once he settled down.” She glanced at him as she started lifting a pair of dumbbells, her subject change obvious. “What’d you say to him?”

  “I told him a dirty joke about Santa Claus.”

  She laughed, but it sounded forced. “Well, it worked. It got him out of his head.”

  “That was the idea.” He shut down his treadmill and moved onto the floor, working through his usual circuit of pushups, sit-ups and burpees. Abby laid a barbell across her shoulders and started doing squats, her ass only a few feet from his face. He bit back a groan, put his headphones on, and powered through the rest of his workout.

  “Welcome back to this afternoon’s game between the Dallas Longhorns and the Seattle Mariners. The Mariners are looking to avoid a sweep at the hands of the Longhorns after coming up short over the last two games. But things aren’t looking good for the Mariners, as we’re in the top of the sixth and the Longhorns are up six to two,” says Wayne Hopkins.

  “More importantly, if the Longhorns win today, they’re only a game and a half back of the wild card spot they’ve been chasing since July,” says Ron Whittaker. “A win today would be an excellent way to head into the upcoming road trip, where they’ll face off against the Toronto Blue Jays.”

  “The bats have been hot today, but someone we haven’t heard from yet is Jake Landon, who’s 0-2 on the day, with a pop-out in the second and a lineout to third in the fourth. He’s gotta be looking for something here.”

  “Oh, for sure. When you’re a new member of a team, of course you want to contribute, although I’d say most of Landon’s contributions will come behind the plate and in the clubhouse. He steps up to the plate batting .295 on the season.”

  “First pitch is right over the plate and Landon gets all of it! It looks good, it’s back, it’s back and…gone! Good golly Miss Molly, that ball is outta here! Jake Landon’s first home run in a Longhorns uniform!”

  Abby let out a completely undignified whoop when Jake’s ball disappeared over the edge of the wall and then immediately caught herself, wondering if anyone else had noticed her reaction. But thankfully, everyone else was too busy celebrating Jake’s first home run as a member of the team to notice Abby making a total fangirl of herself. Still, she practically glowed with pride as she watched him round the bases, accepting high fives and ass slaps from the first and third base coaches as he went.

  She wondered if she could get away with a few ass slaps, all in the name of coaching and camaraderie.

  When he returned to the dugout, everyone celebrated and high fived him, and when he passed by, she elbowed him. “Told you to keep your hands up.”

  He laughed and sank down onto the bench. “Yeah, yeah.” But he winked, and she felt that wink with her entire body.

  God, she missed him.

  “Man, I freaking love Canada,” said Beau, his arms spread over the back of the booth they’d commandeered on the lakefront patio of the busy club. Jake hadn’t spent much time playing up in Toronto—the Jays were an American League team, and he’d spent most of his career in the National League—but he had to agree with Beau. The city was beautiful, the early September weather was perfect, and it felt good to play someplace new.

  After an off day for travel and practice, they’d played the first of their three game series against the Jays that night and had won handily, 9-3. Now, the team was checking out the city and exploring. They’d picked a waterfront, open-air club not far from the Westin Harbor Castle, where the team was staying. Jake kept glancing toward the door, looking for Abby, hoping she’d make an appearance. So far there was no sign of her, and he had a feeling he wasn’t going to see her tonight. Given the win, he should’ve been in a better mood than he was, but knowing he probably wouldn’t see her tonight put a damper on any positive vibes from the win.

  She’d made sure to keep all of the conversation between them friendly and professional. And he liked working with her. He did. She was smart, dedicated, and easy to talk to about the game. But working with her wasn’t the same as being with her, and being around her without having any kind of claim on her…it felt wrong. It felt like a cupcake without any frosting. Like the best part was missing.

  So yeah, he liked working with her. He also couldn’t stand it because he missed her and wanted her so fucking much he felt like he could jump out of his skin.

  Jake glanced around the booth. Dylan and Hunter were deep in conversation about something, and Beau was busy checking out every single woman he could see. Connor shifted in his seat beside him.

  “That guy’s an STD waiting to happen,” he said, gesturing with his beer at Beau. Jake looked down into his drink and smiled, shaking his head.

  “No kidding. He has enough fun for everyone on the whole team.” He turned to face Connor, the other new addition to the team. “So, how are you liking Dallas?”

  He shrugged. “Not a huge change for me. I was on the Astros for the past four seasons, so I’m used to Texas.”

  Jake nodded. “Including two World Series winning seasons.” He swallowed back the pang of jealousy he felt. Despite his extensive experience, he’d never played much in the post season, and had only dreamed of contending for the World Series.

  “Yep.” Connor nodded, a tense look on his face that Jake didn’t know how to interpret, so he changed the subject.

  “Where you from originally?” he asked, taking a sip of his drink.

  “Upstate New York, little place called Gossamer Falls. My family’s all still there, Mom, Dad, my brothers. Well, two of my brothers. You?”

  “SoCal. I grew up just outside LA.” Being from Southern California was one of the many things he had in common with Abby. At the thought, he felt a little twinge in his chest, but he brushed it away.

  “You married? Kids?”

  Another twinge. Jake shook his head. “Single. We both got roped into that damn bachelor auction, remember?”

  Connor grinned. “Oh, right. Ever been married?”

  Jake shook his head. “Nope. Just never found the right woman, I guess.” It was a half truth, because he was pretty sure he had. She just wasn’t his, anymore.

  “Probably smart.”

  “Divorced?”

  “Oh yeah.”

  “Sorry, man. Kids?”

  “No, thankfully.” He gestured at Beau. “He’s got the right of it. Have your fun, don’t get trapped. Learned my lesson the hard way.” He glanced off, looking out over the lake. Jake could practically see the guy’s baggage. They chatted a bit more, watching Beau as he got up and flirted his way through the crowd before returning to their table with a fresh round of drinks on a tray and a smear of lipstick on his neck.

  “Man, I love Canada,” he said in his gravelly voice, sitting down next to Connor. “Look at this place. I mean, come on.” Jake glanced out at the lake and the distinctive skyline, while Beau’s eyes were trained on a redhead several feet away. “So welcoming.” He winked at the redhead and Jake and Connor exchanged an eyeroll. Then the redhead smiled at Jake, glanced away for a second, and then looked back, a smoldering, unmistakable look on her face as she checked him out. He was flattered, but thoroughly uninterested.

  “So how the hell did you manage to bust up your shoulder in practice?” Connor asked Beau, giving him a quizzical look.

  Beau shrugged, still checking out the redhead. “Just a fluke thing I guess.” He lifted his beer bottle to his lips. “
Don’t worry, I’m all good now.” Beau then turned his attention to Connor, squinting. “Any chance you’re related to Jesse Slate? You look like him.”

  Jake hadn’t noticed it before, but Connor did bear a resemblance—and share a name—with one of Hollywood’s biggest stars. Jesse Slate was known for his good looks and his blockbuster movies.

  “He’s my younger brother.”

  “He must get so many chicks,” said Beau, because of course that was immediately where his mind went.

  Connor shook his head. “Don’t you watch Entertainment Tonight? He’s engaged to McKinley Thomas.”

  Beau let out a whistle. “Lucky guy.”

  Connor shrugged. “Meh. We’ll see if it works out.”

  The redhead winked at Jake, and he looked away. He’d had never been the type to womanize or chase. Sure, he’d dated, but he was more of a serial monogamist than anything. And he’d had some good relationships, but in the end, there’d been some roadblock preventing them from getting to that next level. Careers, or geography, or just wanting different things out of life.

  With Abby, everything had just clicked, and in that moment, he felt the loss of her as though it were fresh and new. He didn’t want to start over with someone else. He wanted her. And he definitely didn’t want to be here anymore.

  He finished his drink, tossed some outrageously colorful money down on the table and stood. “Well kids, time for this old timer to hit the hay. See you at the yard tomorrow.” He wove his way through the crowd, eager to leave the club and its noise behind. As he walked the short distance back to the hotel, the soft, warm, late summer air swirling around him, all he could think about was Abby. Missing her. Wanting her. Wishing with every fiber of his being that things could be different.

  He stepped into the lobby of the hotel, which was mostly empty and quiet. He started to head for the elevator when a familiar brown ponytail caught his eye, and he slowed his steps. Abby sat at the lobby bar, wearing a pair of skintight black jeans and a red blouse. A half-empty glass of wine sat on the bar in front of her, her laptop open. Her eyes flitted between her screen and the large flat screen TV mounted above the bar, showing highlights and clips of other games around the league.