by Kathy Lyons
“Why?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. To tell you that I was working on Nico. To get the video back.”
“I already knew that.”
“To say I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for it to happen that way.”
I arched a brow at him. “You didn’t mean to take me in the press box? To give me orgasms until I could barely stand?”
He hesitated. “Did you like it?”
“You know I did.”
“Well, then I definitely meant that part. It was—”
“The video. I know.”
He nodded, and we fell into silence. Then a moment later, he sighed.
“I just wanted you to know the real me. Away from all the sports stuff.”
I reached out and took his hand. I didn’t double think it. I just wanted to touch him, and so I did. And soon our fingers were intertwined. “You are all the sports stuff.”
“Not entirely.”
“You’re all the good parts about baseball. Mom and apple pie. Hometown hero makes good through hard work and talent.”
He tugged me closer until our arms pressed against each other. “I also like science-fiction movies and accounting.”
I jolted. “Accounting? Seriously?”
He chuckled. “It’s like baseball stats for a business. How else are you going to know how the farm’s doing?”
I let my gaze travel past the fire pit to the dark acres of corn. “So, are you going to take over the farm after you’re done with baseball?”
He shrugged. “I have no idea. I don’t love farming like my dad does. I just love playing with the numbers.”
I turned back to him. “I pitched a dozen articles about millennials who are fudging the rules or completely blowing them off. No one cared. Except when they took my ideas and gave it to more experienced reporters.”
He lifted our hands and pressed a kiss to my fingers. “Seriously? That sucks.”
“Yeah, it does. The only reason they didn’t take this story away from me is because no one thought I could do it. No one believed I could get a private interview with you.”
“You still haven’t,” he said, his voice low with warning.
“I know. But they’ll still pay me for a background piece on you, assuming it’s got something new and different in it.”
He sighed. “Don’t contact Jill.”
I didn’t say anything, but that was as good as an answer. He knew I was going to find her. He knew I was going to write something.
“Come live with me.” His voice was low, but the words carried clearly enough in the night air. As did my squeak of a response.
“What?”
He looked at me, his eyes dark while the fire lit the rest of his face. “If you move in with me, your rent’s taken care of. I can afford to carry you easily while you take some time to find a different story. One that no one can take from you. And if we’re living together, then no one is going to look twice at that video. Guys bang their girls all over the stadium.”
“That can’t be true.”
He ducked his head. “Well not all the time. But it happens enough to make it boring.”
“You’re asking me to move in with you.”
“Yes.”
Shock warred with hunger inside me. Suddenly I was seeing all those things I’d pictured three years ago. Not just a ring and a white picket fence. In the last three years, my dreams about him had gotten really specific. I saw him holding out my morning coffee while our kids played with the dog. I saw vacations in Disney World to celebrate his World Series win. I’d put pictures of our kids’ graduations next to my Pulitzers. And in every dream, he was holding me, his arm slung casually about my shoulders while I gazed happily into his eyes. And that was nothing compared to the graphic fantasies I’d spun of our nights together.
I knew they were just dreams, but I wanted them with all my heart. Even though my brain kept listing logical reasons why this would never work.
“We’ve only been together for a few hours. Hell, a week ago, you didn’t know I existed.”
“I sure as hell did.”
Well, okay. Yeah, thanks to spring break, we both knew about each other. “You’d forgotten about me.”
“Never.” Then he squeezed my hand. “Had you forgotten about me?”
“Hell, no.”
“See? It’s like we’ve been dating for three years.”
No, it wasn’t. It was as far from dating as it was possible to get. And yet I wanted to be persuaded by him. I wanted the future I’d pictured in such detail. And if I ignored the far-fetched dreams, there were all the present moment things that tempted me. I wanted my money problems to go away so I didn’t have to go home a failure. I wanted to spend lots of nights in his bed living out my secret fantasies. And it was pretty exciting to think that I’d be the hot rookie’s girlfriend. But I wasn’t someone who leaped so easily. I was pretty surprised that he was.
“What about Brittany?”
He blinked, clearly confused. “What about her?”
“I saw how you were looking at her. They had your face in close-up. You can’t tell me that you weren’t thinking about her at the game. She threw her scarf at you.” I didn’t know if that was true. It’s just what all the commentators had implied. That she’d accidentally dropped it near the dug out right beore his turn at bat, so he’d be the one to pick it up.
“I wasn’t thinking about her. I was thinking about hitting a home run.”
“Sure you were,” I drawled as I leaned back. “Especially when you grabbed her scarf and held it up for the cameras. I saw your face—”
“Jesus, Heidi, I wasn’t thinking about her. I was looking at the press box.”
It took a moment for his meaning to sink in. And once it did, certain facts lined up. In order for the TV to have such a beautiful close-up on his face, he had to be looking directly at the camera. Which was in the press box. Which is where he’d been looking when he got that hungry, wistful look.
Wow.
“So, um, you were thinking about…”
“I can’t look up there without my pants getting tight, and that’s a fact.”
Well, um, okay. “So you’re not dating Brittany.”
“No.”
“And you’re asking me to move in with you.”
“Yes.”
I wanted to say yes. Oh how the word lay on my tongue aching to leap out. I wanted to be that person who threw herself into possibilities and experiences, but that just wasn’t in my nature. I couldn’t do it. Not like that.
“How about a date first?”
He grinned. “I can do a date. How about tomorrow night, right here in Broken Bow?”
I nodded. I could handle that. “What are we going to do? Dinner or a movie?”
“Both. I’ll pick you up at six.”
“At six,” I echoed, rapidly thinking through my clothing options. I hadn’t brought a date dress, which meant I probably needed to go shopping. Which wasn’t something I could really afford. “Um, let’s keep it casual, okay? Nothing fancy.”
“This is Broken Bow. Nothing’s fancy here, which is why I like it.” Then he grinned. “How about a picnic? I know a few spots.”
“Out of the public eye? Afraid too many fans are going to crash our evening?”
He rolled his eyes. “You have no idea.”
I did, actually. All I had to do was remember how everyone here had a Rob story. If we went to a restaurant in town, he’d spend the whole time signing autographs or reminiscing with someone about how he’d dominated a Little League playoff game.
I stood up, my expression softening. “Picnic it is. I’ll be ready at six.”
He mirrored my movement, then wrapped an arm around my shoulders. “So is this the point where I gallantly offer to escort you home?”
“I’d rather not walk all the way to the motel.”
“I’ll take you.” We started walking back toward the house. Then he flashed me a wicked grin. “Have you ever ri
dden on a motorcycle?”
I blinked. “What? No.”
“Great. I always like it when I’m a girl’s first.”
Chapter Fourteen
Rob
I didn’t expect Heidi to be impressed by my grandfather’s Indian Scout motorcycle, but it didn’t matter. She listened as I pulled off the cover of the vintage machine. She let me ramble on about when my grandfather had bought it over my grandmother’s objection, and how he’d paid for my motorcycle lessons when I was in high school. She laughed when I told her how he chewed me out for being reckless as a teen, and she smiled when I offered her the extra helmet.
It was the smile that slayed me.
I’d been trying to be good all evening. Even though I’d had a boner from the moment I’d seen her walking along the street, I’d kept myself away from her. No intimate touching. No kissing. Except for by the fire pit, of course. I wanted us to talk, and we’d managed that fairly well. But right now, she was smiling at me after listening to my stories about my grandfather. And she was about to wrap her arms around me and press her face to my back as we roared through Broken Bow. She was going to touch me, and I was going to think of nothing but being with her again. About her heat and her wetness, and how nothing felt better than when I was thrusting inside her.
And that really threw me. Sure I’d obsessed about her after spring break. And I must have set a record for the number of times I’d jerked off to my fantasies about her. But this was something different. Something deeper. This was at the level of baseball and that shook the very foundation of my world. Nothing and no one had touched me as deep as baseball, and yet suddenly there was Heidi. What if I had to choose between her and baseball? I didn’t know which I’d pick.
“Heidi,” I groaned, just because I needed to say her name aloud. We were in the garage, but it was a huge space complete with a pull-out couch and an entire wall of my baseball trophies. Mom hadn’t added them to the Wall of Accomplishments in the house, but she’d let me keep them here where I’d spent hours lifting weights, bullshitting with my friends, or tinkering with my grandfather’s motorcycle.
And now I wanted nothing more than to lay Heidi down on the couch while I reacquainted myself with every luscious inch of her.
“Don’t look at me like that,” she murmured, her gaze roving over my face.
“Like what?” I asked as I used my free hand to tug her closer to me.
“Like you did in Florida. Like I’m the most amazing woman in the world.”
I grinned. “You are.”
“It’s just flattery.”
I stroked her cheek and let my thumb roll over the plump curve of her lips. “Do you know what baseball babes are like?”
She arched a brow. “Big boobs, worshiping smiles, hanging on your every word?”
“You’re smart, and I love that. You challenge me and make me think. Whenever I see you, I want you so bad, I can’t breathe.”
Her mouth opened, but she didn’t speak. She just stared at me as if I’d said something she couldn’t understand. Which was bullshit. How could she not know that she was incredible? So I kissed her. I pulled her tight against me and I dove into her. I stroked her mouth, I let my hands drop to the full curve of her bottom, and I let my dick thrust against her.
So good. She felt so good especially when her hands curled over my shoulders, and she pulled herself higher against my body. I felt the roll of her hips and the tight points of her breasts. I curled my hands beneath her bottom and helped her lift up against me. We were still kissing. I was thrusting my tongue into her mouth like a madman. And the need to be inside her everywhere, everyhow pounded in my body, especially when she wrapped her legs around my hips.
My groin was pushing against her and our jeans were a maddening barrier, but I couldn’t stop kissing her long enough to fix it. And then she broke away.
“Just for now.” She gasped. “Right here. There are no cameras, no recording. Nothing.”
“Please say yes,” I begged.
“God, yes.”
I pivoted and carried her to the couch. It had a couple heavy blankets over it, and I stripped them away with one hand. Underneath were overstuffed corduroy cushions that sank as I set her down. She kept her legs and arms wrapped around me, so I came with her, half falling on top.
“We don’t tell anyone about this,” she said.
“Wasn’t planning on it,” I said as I started making my way down her shirt, unbuttoning the soft cotton as I went. It had tiny flowers stitched along the neckline, and I rolled my fingers across the texture while I licked the skin I revealed as I went.
By contrast, her bra was smooth and silky and—thank God—she still wore the kind with a front clasp. I popped it easily, and then her breasts were there as my feast. I licked them eagerly, loving the way she moved when I sucked on her nipples. She arched against me and her legs squeezed my hips. When I nipped she would gasp and then as I soothed it with my tongue, she would groan in surrender.
Never had a woman so clearly told me what she wanted. Just her sounds alone were a great guide, but then she pulled at my tee, nearly ripping it. I straightened enough to yank it off, but as I did, my dick pushed hard and hot into her groin and we both moaned. I knew at that moment that I’d hit the point of no return. I needed to be in her right then, and by the looks of her flushed skin and wet lips, she wanted it as much as I did.
“I’m not stopping,” I warned her. “I can’t.” Then I took a breath and tried to steady myself. “I have condoms.”
“Good.”
Just to make sure, I looked down at her. “Is that a yes-good?”
She grinned as she unbuttoned my jeans. Her fingers were quick and decisive, and I stopped questioning. I pulled the condom out of my pocket just as she unzipped my jeans. Oh God, the release from the denim was heavenly.
I maneuvered off her and stripped out of my jeans. She straightened as well, and I lost focus as I watched her discard her top and wriggle out of her jeans. I couldn’t help but stare at her breasts where they bounced so beautiful in front of me. Then the narrow waist and the glorious sight of her groin. My mouth watered and my hands clenched.
Then she turned and looked at me. My jeans were down at my ankles, fouled by my boots. I had the condom packet half ripped in my hands, and all I could do was stare at her. She was so beautiful. Flushed yellow-gold skin, tight nipples in soft round breasts, and that ginger-spice scent flooded my brain with her name. Heidi. Glorious Heidi.
She smiled at me as she took the condom from my hand. She finished what I couldn’t manage, pulling out the latex and then kneeling down before me to roll it on. It was cold but not for long. And the feel of her hands on me had my eyes rolling back in pleasure.
Then she pushed me back so I was sitting on the couch with my dick sticking straight up. She set her hands on my shoulders and her knees went to either side of my hips. And then she leaned in to kiss me. She stroked her tongue over my lips and, when my hands went to pull her down hard onto my dick, she started talking.
“You asked me how many guys I have been with.”
I blinked. “What?”
“You asked about my other lovers. Since you.”
“Don’t care.” I didn’t want to know about any other guys, but she kept talking. And as she did, she slowly lowered herself onto me. Inch by inch while I tried to hold back my explosion.
“I was trying to get over you. And I wanted it to be as good as with you. So I read about Tantrism, then tried it out.”
My hips lurched, but she lifted with them. She wasn’t going to let me control this. It was all up to her.
“A dozen books on Tantra and four guys,” she said. “Guess what I found out?”
“What?” The word was a gasp. I could barely breathe because of what she was doing. I was only half inside her, but she kept squeezing my tip. And as she squeezed, it was like she pushed me out only to slide back down the minute she released. Squeeze, then slide. A little bit deeper e
ach time.
“You were the best. Always. Nothing ever came close.”
She slid down me again and this time it was almost all the way. I needed to touch her. I need to get her paced with me: a hair’s breadth from coming. But when I reached for her, she batted my hand aside.
“Can you hold it?” she asked as she leaned forward and began kissing along my jaw. My cheek. My ear. “Can you keep from coming?”
“No.”
“Bet you can.”
Then she squeezed me again and the pulse in my body was like a flash fire. It burst through my brain and my hips jerked, but she moved with me and I didn’t get where I wanted to go.
“Heidi,” I groaned.
“Hold it back,” she said. And then she explained. “This is Tantra. This is linking with me until we’re both ready to touch heaven.”
She was all the way down now and I was fully embedded. But when I wanted to thrust up against her, she moved with me, refusing to give me the friction my body demanded. And then she leaned close so that we were nose to nose.
“Breathe with me,” she whispered.
I did. I felt her breath against my lips, her nose inches from mine. I inhaled when she exhaled, drawing her breath into my body, and she did the reverse. It was like we were tuning into each other, breathing each other in. I felt the pulse in her body or maybe she felt mine. Her hands gripped my shoulders and mine tightened on her hips. We were completely in sync and again my world shifted. Like a puzzle piece finally fitting into its mate. We locked together in that moment, and it blew my mind.
She must have felt it, too. Her eyes widened as she gazed into mine and her breath hitched at the exact same moment mine did.
“Rob,” she whispered.
“Heidi,” I echoed.
Like two souls finally greeting each other. And we remained poised just like that in an eternity of recognition.
But it couldn’t last. The pleasure was too much. Every time we breathed together, my body pulsed inside her. As much as I fought it, I needed to move inside her. And if I couldn’t thrust, then I needed something else.
“Let me touch you. Give me your breasts.”
They were right in front of me, half hidden by her hair. At my words, she arched her head back and her hair slipped away like a curtain revealing prefect breasts, perfect nipples. I leaned forward to take one in my mouth. My hands trailed up from her hips until I was cupping both of her breasts, shaping them how I wanted as I sucked with abandon.
