“I’d love to take a look at your work sometime.” And he meant it. Listening to her talk about her aspirations, he had no doubt Becca poured her heart and soul into her photography. Maybe it would give him a better understanding of the woman she’d become. Each moment he spent with her made it clear she’d grown to be a very different woman than the one he’d imagined, and as it turned out, he liked this one a hell of a lot better.
They finished their sandwiches in silence, picking at the fries until they were cold and the shakes were gone. Jax collected the wrappers and stuffed them in the bag.
“Thanks for dinner.” Becca appraised him, perhaps surprised they’d been able to get through a meal—even a quick one—without the conversation disintegrating into World War III.
“You’re welcome. We should do it again sometime.” He grinned, unable to resist busting her balls just a little. “I hear there’s a great place over in Chelsea that serves the best pie in Manhattan.”
She stuck her tongue out at him. “Smart-ass.”
“Give me your keys. I’ll carry this stuff out to your car while you finish packing up your camera,” he offered, grabbing the tower of boxes from the table.
He carried the boxes to her car, locking them in the trunk before returning to find the warehouse empty. The camera bag was packed, but its owner was nowhere to be found.
“Becca?”
Where had she gone now? Night was falling fast, casting long shadows across the cement floor. It was creepy as hell. Time to find Becca and get out. He made his way back the hall she’d come from earlier, calling her name to avoid scaring the shit out of her.
When he finally found her in a supply closet, she was bent over with her rear in the air, her dark leggings showcasing the perfection of her ass. Not quite what he was expecting, but damn if his cock didn’t swell at the sight. The mental picture of taking her from behind was front and center in his brain as he watched her, eyes glued to her backside.
“Stop staring at my ass,” she said, twisting to confirm her suspicions, “and help me find my phone. I thought I left it on the shelf in here, but I can’t find it. Maybe it fell on the floor?”
She continued to rummage through the boxes and bins on the lower shelves, so he joined her, using his own phone to brighten the dim room as he looked under the rusty shelves. Crawling around in a dirty supply room wasn’t exactly how he imagined spending an evening with the sexy woman beside him, but better him crawling around on the floor than her. Spotting a dark lump beneath the shelving unit, he reached under, hoping like hell he wasn’t about to catch a case of lockjaw for his trouble, and pulled out the phone.
“Got it.”
When he turned to stand, he found Becca right behind him. They collided, his face going straight to her lady bits as her hands tangled in his hair, holding him tight.
They both froze.
The sexual tension in the room was so damn thick they’d need the Jaws of Life to cut through it.
Fuck it.
He gripped her ass, cupping those round cheeks and using them as leverage to pull her close. She remained silent, as if waiting to see what he’d do next. Keeping their bodies flush, he climbed to his feet slowly, savoring the feel of her soft curves against his chest. Their eyes met, and damn if he didn’t want to lose himself in those dark depths. The way she was looking at him, like he was the answer to a prayer she’d never voiced aloud? It nearly stripped him of his restraint. A lesser part of his brain told him to take it slow—the last thing he wanted to do was spook her—but he ignored it, letting instinct take over. Their attraction? It wasn’t cerebral. It was primal.
“Don’t even think about it,” she warned, making no move to separate their bodies, although they stood so close he could feel the rise and fall of her breasts with each breath.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“You know exactly what I’m talking about.” She rolled her eyes and shifted her weight. Was it wishful thinking or had she actually gotten closer? “Don’t be coy.”
“Are you seriously going to pretend you don’t feel that?” He smirked. “The sexual tension in this closet is so thick we’re both drowning in it.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Now who’s being coy? One word, Becca.” He paused. “Yes. That’s all you have to say.”
Becca lifted her chin and licked her lips, leveling him with a look that said she was ready for the stare-down of the ages. Figured. No matter how bad they both wanted it, she’d dig in her heels just to spite him.
She was so damn sexy when she was being obstinate, which only reinforced the fact that he was going to need a cold shower when he got home.
A mischievous smile tugged at the corner of her mouth, tempting him with every dark fantasy those lips had ever inspired.
“Yes.”
It was all the invitation he needed. Claiming her mouth with his own, he lavished kisses upon those full lips, tracing her mouth with his tongue and slipping past the entrance to explore her more fully. She moaned quietly, her body melting against him as she began to tease him with short strokes of her tongue. Like before, that small spark of passion burned hot, growing exponentially as she raked her fingers through his hair and over the muscles of his shoulders.
It wasn’t enough. With Becca, he wondered if it would ever be enough.
Hell, they didn’t need words. Just touch. As long as they could explore one another and lose themselves in the moment, it would be enough.
Spinning her around, he pressed her back to the metal rack, sending odds and ends clattering to the floor. Ignoring the mess, he slid his hands up her back, holding her tight as he worked his way down her chin and along the curve of her neck, licking and sucking and memorizing her heavenly taste. Despite the long day on the set and the smudges of oil and dirt and soot on her clothes, her skin remained just as he remembered, sweet and tantalizing, like a drug.
Pushing her T-shirt up, he dropped to his knees, licking the stretch of skin from her belly button to her breasts, noting the goose bumps that raced across her flesh. He rubbed his palms over the tiny bumps, warming her with his touch. Looking up at her, at the way her eyelids drooped as she gave herself over to pleasure, he knew it was time to find out just how thick those leggings were. She’d had a long day and she deserved nothing more than a moment of unbridled pleasure, something he was more than happy to provide, if she’d let him. Bringing his mouth to the place where her legs joined, he sucked on her clit through the thin material.
The whimper that followed was music to his hears.
Bringing his left hand around, he used his fingers to massage her in concert with his tongue, growing frustrated by the fabric separating them. She was mewling with satisfaction, hips rocking, but he needed more. Needed to touch that slick heat of hers, to taste it, to fill it completely.
“Take your pants off, Becca.”
She hesitated.
Dropping his chin to his chest, he rested his forehead against her belly. He was out of control. Taking her in a place like this? What the hell was he thinking? She deserved better than a romp in the backroom of some sketchy warehouse.
Her hips shifted.
“What are you doing?” he asked, looking up at her.
“Isn’t it obvious?” she asked, her words heavy with need. “I’m taking off my pants.”
All right then. He wasn’t about to deny her. Not now, not ever. Jax climbed to his feet and fused his mouth with Becca’s. She opened herself to him immediately, her tongue skating over his as she wiggled her leggings down to her knees.
“Good enough,” Jax told her, dropping a hand to her sweet spot. She was hot, slick, and ready. Without warning, he plunged two fingers into her wet heat, earning a moan that told him she liked it very much. His cock throbbed with his own need, but he’d take care of that later. This moment was about pleasuring Becca. “That’s right. Tell me what you like so I can make it good for you every time.
I want to know what gets you hot so I can make you come for me.”
“Jax.” His name was a breath on her lips as he pumped his fingers deep inside of her, hooking them forward and angling for the spot that would give her the most intense orgasm. He rolled his thumb over her clit, applying more pressure as she rocked her hips against him.
“Do you like it when I fuck you with my fingers?”
“Yes,” she panted, grasping his shoulder for support, or maybe just to ground herself in the moment. “Don’t. Stop.”
She was close, spiraling toward release. With her head thrown back and lips parted, she was the wild beauty of his dreams, the one he knew would only let go like this for him. Her body clenched him tight as the shockwaves of pleasure rocked her to the core. She arched her back into him, holding on as if he were the last shred of sanity in a world gone mad. And in the dark warehouse, her moans of ecstasy carried through the night with complete abandon.
Jax kissed the top of her head as he withdrew and helped her adjust her pants. Despite the orgasm that had just rocked her body, she looked at him with uncertainty, once again retreating from him. “We should go.”
Once Becca was situated in her car, with her cell phone, he tapped on the window. She rolled it down, looking apprehensive. “Thanks again for dinner…and everything else.”
He reached out, stroking her cheek and loving the way she melted at his touch. “I told you, it was my pleasure.”
She leaned her head back against the headrest, eyes closed. The day had taken its toll. Even after their little tryst in the back room, she looked exhausted. “What we did…it has to stop. We can’t do this again. It’s not…right.”
Biting his tongue, he swallowed a snarky reply that would just start another argument. Why she insisted on fighting this thing between them was beyond him, when it was clear they had more chemistry than the periodic table.
“Drive carefully.” He kissed her lightly, catching her off guard. Her eyes shot open. “I’ll see you Saturday.”
“Saturday?” Her brow wrinkled in concentration. A frown tugged at the corners of her mouth. “All right. I’ll bite. What’s Saturday?”
“Didn’t Chris tell you?” He grinned and stepped back from the car, seeking a safe distance, outside her striking zone. “I’m joining Mancini’s softball team.”
Becca slammed her fist on the steering wheel and punched the button to close the window. It rose slowly, not nearly quick enough to prevent him from hearing the string of four-letter words that would have her doing penance from now until the end of time. He waved as she backed out of the parking lot, enjoying his hard won victory. Because if he knew only one thing about Becca Mancini, it was that she was going to make him pay on Saturday.
Chapter Nine
Becca laced up her cleats, cursing Jax and his pushy, meddling ways for the eight thousandth time. After letting him give her another sinfully good O at the photo shoot, the last thing she wanted to do was face him on the bench. She’d played every card she had in an attempt to back out of the game, but Christopher wasn’t having any of it. He’d even cut her off before she could try the old “remember when” guilt trip, which was usually her ace in the hole and reserved for the direst of situations. That was the problem with siblings. They always knew your angle and which buttons to push in order to get their own way.
As the team captain, he’d guilted the shit out of her, reminding her the team was required to have three women in the rotation to avoid a forfeit. Then, to make sure she wasn’t a no show, he’d piled on with an endless diatribe about the team standings. For the first time ever, Mancini’s was undefeated. So, yeah, while she wanted to be anywhere but on the field today, here she was.
Maybe she’d get lucky and Jax wouldn’t show.
Fat chance. Like hell he’d miss an opportunity to torture you.
Slinging her bag over her shoulder, she slammed the car door. Jax would be there. No doubt about it. The real question was why had she let him get in her pants again? The sex wasn’t that good.
Denial much?
Fine. The more likely answer was that she was clearly a glutton for punishment. Because no matter how good the man made her feel right now, there was only one way it could end. A fact she needed to remember if she didn’t want him to break her heart again. He wasn’t in it for the long haul, and soon enough he’d move on.
Figuratively and literally. The fourth date jinx. It happened every time. Apparently she just wasn’t built for relationships.
Dropping her bag in the dugout, she jogged to the outfield where the team was warming up. Making a point of avoiding Jax, she settled into the grass as far from him as possible and pulled up her socks, spreading her legs to stretch her calves.
“Nice of you to join us,” Christopher said, slinging a bat across his shoulders and twisting at the waist. “Cutting it a little close aren’t you?”
“Don’t tell me you were getting nervous?” she asked feigning surprise. “Afraid you were going to have to pitch against Brooklyn Tire and Rubber?”
The team laughed because, yeah, the idea of Christopher pitching was that damn funny. He couldn’t find the strike zone with GPS. Climbing to her feet, she began stretching her pitching arm.
“We need you on your game today.” He took a few practice swings with the bat. “You know they’re going to be riding your ass.”
“When am I not on my game?” She hated it when Christopher was right. BT&R always gave her shit. Always. And if she let those meatheads get in her head today, Mancini’s could kiss their record good-bye. “Too bad you can’t say the same, coach.”
The Mancini’s crew had been playing together for a couple of seasons, and the team was accustomed to the endless sarcasm the siblings hurled at one another. It was all in good fun and, as often as not, helped ease the tension before a big game.
Christopher pointed at Jax and told him, “No funny business. I don’t know what the beef is with you two, but do not make me sorry I put you on the team.”
“Hey, man, I’m just here to play ball,” Jax swore, holding up his palms and looking anything but innocent. When Christopher turned away, he actually had the nerve to wink at her. And damn if he didn’t look good doing it.
“Don’t even start,” she warned him, realizing too late she was only fueling the fire.
“What?” He climbed to his feet and dusted himself off, his Under Armour shorts doing little to mask that divine butt. “I’m just wondering how the Frankie I knew, a girl who was hands down the clumsiest kid this side of Manhattan, grew up to be Mancini’s star pitcher.”
“Well, gee, when you put it like that…” She turned and stalked toward the dugout. “You’re an ass. You know that, right?” she called over her shoulder, flipping him the bird.
Jax laughed. Of course he did. The guy was like Teflon. Nothing stuck. “Can’t wait to see what you’ve got, Mancini!”
Blood thrumming through her veins, she didn’t bother to look back. No way in hell would she give him the satisfaction of putting her off-balance, or making her feel like that awkward teen again. She’d grown into her body, and she was the best damn pitcher on the team. Besides, it wasn’t like she needed his approval. Even if it would be sweet revenge to see him eat his words.
A low whistle carried across the field. She cut her eyes at the home team’s dugout. Apparently she had bigger things to worry about than Jackson Hart—like the lunkheads from BT&R who were eyeing her up like a prime side of beef. Meeting their stares, she lifted her chin and slowed her breathing. The last thing she needed was for those jerks to think they’d gotten her hot and bothered.
Once the teams had finished warming up and the coin had been tossed, Becca found herself on the pitcher’s mound staring down the third out. Like the three batters before him, he was talking trash and trying to distract her from the runner on second, who seemed to be thinking about stealing third.
Good luck with that. Once the ball crossed home plate, Christopher would b
e gunning for him. No, better to focus on her pitches than the runner. He wasn’t as fast as he thought he was, and she’d struck out the last two batters with her knuckleball. The current batter had a full count.
Time for a changeup.
“Hey, sweetheart.” The batter spit and stepped into the box. “You get me in scoring position, I’ll drive you home.”
How original.
Thank God she’d skipped lunch or she might’ve vomited in her mouth. Gripping the ball tight, she placed her index and middle fingers on the seam as she wound up and let it rip. The ball sailed across the plate, curving to the left as he swung.
Thwump!
The ball hit Christopher’s mitt, putting a smile on her face.
“Why you gotta do me like that, baby?” The batter flashed her a smarmy grin, his beady eyes far from amused. Apparently he didn’t like striking out with a woman—on or off the field. Fine by her. She didn’t like getting hit on by skeezy dirtballs. “You just let me know if you change your mind. I’ll see you at the plate.”
Becca shuddered and stepped off the pitcher’s mound, her cleats digging into the dirt as she made her way across the field. She hated playing BT&R. Most of the guys were cool, but the ones who weren’t? They left her feeling like she’d bathed in a deep fryer.
The team crowded into the dugout, and she found herself on the bench next to Jax.
“Nice pitching.” His thigh brushed up against hers, creating a spark of electricity that went straight to her belly. Or maybe it wasn’t his touch that had her stomach fluttering but the sheer fact that he’d paid her a compliment. That was probably it. Frankly, it was a wonder he didn’t choke on the words. “Can’t wait to see what you can do with a bat.”
“Looking for pointers?” She smiled sweetly. No way was she going to let Jax get the upper hand again. It was too dangerous—to her resolve and her heart. “I’d be happy to show you a thing or two.”
Seducing the Fireman (Risky Business) Page 7
