Morning Man

by Barbara Kellyn

  She flinched. “Ooh, that’s what she said.”

  He chuckled and everyone in the concerned crowd breathed a collective sigh of relief. “All right, Shecky, let’s make sure you can put some weight on it.” His arm gripping her waist, he rose to his feet, hoisting her upright. “Easy now, easy.”

  She exhaled, gingerly setting her foot down. “Ouch,” she said, cringing. “It’s a little tender.”

  “Probably just a sprain. We’ll get some ice on that right away,” he said, still holding her tight. “You hurt anywhere else?”

  “Just my pride.” She smiled a bit, looking up at him. “Could I bum a piggyback ride back to the bench?”

  “Hop on,” he said, leaning over.

  She climbed on his back and maneuvered herself into position. With her arms around his neck and her legs wrapped around his hips, he gripped her careful but tight and straightened up to adjust his hold.

  She nipped at his earlobe. “Hey, now you’re my horse and my cowboy.”

  Thunder cracked as the heavy skies opened up and steady rain fell in big, fat drops. “Sorry, but that’s the game, folks!” Dub announced. “Five-four Wranglers.”

  “Shit.” CJ chucked a sports drink against the backstop. The bottle bounced off the chain link fence and rolled in the dirt just as Tack and Dayna reached home plate.

  “Nice of you to stick around to see if I was okay, asshole,” Dayna hissed.

  “You look fine to me,” CJ said, slicking down his black hair. “Besides, you’ve got the twelve-thousand dollar man here to look after you.”

  Tack scowled. “What the hell were you thinking sliding into third like that? She could’ve been badly hurt.”

  “Just playing the game, dude.”

  He stepped into CJ. “Maybe I oughta give you a refresher on what pain feels like, dude.”

  “Fuck him, he’s not worth it,” she said. “Let’s get out of the rain and go for a cold one.”

  Tack made an about-face with Dayna still clinging tight, bouncing slightly as they started off toward his truck.

  “Oh…and CJ?” She called out teasingly. “Don’t bother waiting up for me. I won’t be coming home tonight.”

  * * * *

  The last trickle of water fell from the shower head as a newly-invigorated Dayna pulled back the curtain and stepped out of the tub. It didn’t escape her notice that she stood stark naked in the same spot where Tack toweled off every day, and hoped he was thinking that very thing somewhere on the other side of that door.

  He’d offered her first use of the bathroom for a post-game shower, handing her a folded bath towel, a cold beer and a smile in the doorway before she tried luring him to lather up with her. “I can’t reach my back all by myself,” she said with a devilishly demure pout, then stripped off her team t-shirt in front of him.

  “That really is a shame.” His voice uncharacteristically squeaked as his eyes devoured the flesh spilling over top of her silky-smooth bra cups. “Luckily, there’s a long-handled brush in there. Be my guest.”

  “Come on, cowboy, don’t be bashful. You know there’s plenty of room for both of us,” she purred, tugging the bottom of his shirt upward.

  He stretched his arms above his head, his chin up and his barrel-wide chest stuck out, inviting her to do her worst. She pressed herself against his solid warmth as her palms rolled the shirt up higher. “We both need a shower anyway, so we may as well be good citizens and conserve a little water, right?”

  Tack’s Wranglers shirt hit the floor next to hers.

  “Plus, it’s only a shower, it’s not sex,” she continued to reason with him as much as with herself. Her hands were drawn like magnets to his powerfully broad chest, marveling at the wondrously masculine study of contrasts between smooth and hairy, unyielding muscle and pliable flesh. She lightly mapped every inch she touched, from his granite-hard shoulders and biceps, down to his abdomen and back up again. A sigh escaped them both as her fingertip traced around his hard nipple, setting off her salivary glands. “I mean really, we’re just getting clean. There’s nothing at all sexual about that.”

  His heavy breath came faster. “Yeah, I’m not turned on one bit, are you?”

  “No, not at all.” Her lips parted with want as she stared hard at his mouth. She reached behind her and unhooked her bra, clasping it against her chest as the slackened straps slipped past her shoulders.

  His hands glided down her arms, peeling away the layer of Lycra. “God…Dayna.” He sucked in a breath at the sight of her exposed bare in front of him.

  “Touch me,” she panted, needing to feel him feeling her more than she’d ever imagined possible. “Please.”

  He raised his hands, his thumbs circling her stiffened nipples and relieving the prickly ache. She closed her eyes and moaned, arching her back as he took both breasts full in his hands, sending waves of pleasure rippling through her. He closed the gap between their naked torsos and kissed her deeply. Her hunger and the taste of his tongue slipping over hers created a flood of want, while the high-voltage sensations of their first skin-to-skin contact built up a never-before raw electricity between them. It was a dangerous and possibly lethal combination.

  Backed up against the open door, she melded against him, their hearts pounding fast and blood pumping hot as he pressed his body hard into hers, causing her hips to grind in needy response. She reached down, stroking him over his sweatpants as she smiled against his mouth. “Well, hello Sailor Ned.”

  “He likes you.” He blew out a moist, breathy groan against her neck and she wrapped her hand around him through the fabric. “Really, really likes you.”

  “Mmm…I’m glad. There’s a very good friend of mine I can’t wait to introduce him to in a couple of weeks,” she said as he kissed his way down to her breasts. “Something tells me they’re gonna get along real well.”

  He drew a nipple into his hot mouth and her head rolled back in ecstasy, banging against the door. She released a slow, weak hiss, her fingers digging into his shoulders as he lapped, the brush of his beard and the tight seal of his suckle making her see an explosion of colors.

  And then the phone rang. Fuck.

  “I’m sorry, sugar,” he panted, reluctantly pulling away. “I’ve gotta get it, I’m expecting an important call.”

  She shooed him away on the fourth ring. “Hurry…go, go.”

  He kissed her quickly before rushing into the hall. “Start the water. I’ll be right back, I promise.”

  Ten minutes later, Dayna wrapped the towel around her damp body, disappointed that they had missed one another this time, but certain there would be many more hot showers to look forward to. Although it’d left her aching, the phone call had probably been a lucky save. There was little doubt in her mind that Tack would’ve had her flat on her back on that tiled floor in no time. Before she left the steamy chamber, she drew a heart shape in the fogged-up mirror.

  She followed the sound of his voice to the end of the hallway, but seeing him faced away and still intensely involved in his phone conversation, she retreated to the bedroom where she’d left her overnight bag. Dropping her towel, she put her foot up on the bed and smoothed scented lotion up one leg, then the other, before massaging it over the rest of her shower-fresh body. She then slipped into a white cami tank with teal polka dots and cute boyshorts in the reverse pattern.

  Tack knocked at the door. “Are you decent?”

  “No,” she said. “But come in anyway.”

  He pushed it open. “I’m sorry that took so–” His voice abruptly halted as his eyes took over. “Don’t tell me those are your pajamas.”

  She glanced at what she had on. “Too much or not enough?”

  He looked her up and down and then back up again. “Let’s just say Sailor Ned ain’t getting any sleep if you come to bed wearing that tonight.”

  She giggled. “That’s okay with me.”

  He wrapped his arms around her, his hands sliding lower to cup and squeeze the cheeks of her b
utt. “God, you are smokin’ hot, you know that?”

  “Look who’s talking.” She ran her hands over his shoulders, down to his lightly-furred pecs. “I was so lonely having to take a shower without you.”

  “You can still come join me if you like.”

  “Very tempting, but since I’m dry and dressed, I’ll take a rain check, okay?”

  He nodded. “Maybe it’s just as well. We might have ended up doing something that would have cost us a ton of cash.”

  She bounced her eyebrows. “It would have been sooo worth twelve grand.”

  “Don’t I know it.” He laughed, feathering his fingers against her cheek. “But when we do finally make love, our deal with Bonnie will be over so we’ll be completely free of all restraint and any residual guilt.”

  “And clothes,” she said, both hands covering his backside. He flexed in response. “We will be free of all our clothes.”

  “Ohhh, yes. That is a definite guarantee.”

  She toyed with the waistband of his sweats as she gazed up at him. “I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t been dreaming up a dozen ways we might get around Bonnie’s dumb deal tonight. Of course, that would mean getting off on a technicality.”

  Tack shuddered. “I need to get in that shower, pronto,” he said, squirming away and going to his dresser drawer for a few things. “Make yourself at home. Watch some TV, play some tunes. There’s a bag of pretzels on the counter, lots of beer in the fridge.”

  Dayna smiled as he rushed to the bathroom. “Take your time and enjoy yourself,” she called out teasingly before he shut the door. “As long as you’re thinking of me.”

  * * * *

  Taking matters in hand wasn’t nearly effective enough with the fantasy of Dayna prancing about in her curve-hugging skivvies suddenly very real and in his living room. Tack prayed they’d both doze off quickly and then there’d be nothing to get worked up about for the next six hours, except the fact that he was crazy about the beautiful, half-naked woman lying in his bed. Self control, man. Self control.

  Like flipping a TV channel, he switched his thoughts to the news from Trish Galveston. The busy realtor had finally returned his call about the vacant property for sale near the reservoir, where he and Dub went fishing last summer. The glassy lake and surrounding forest of trees made it idyllic, the serenity interrupted only by birds and boats floating by. He had been struck by the peaceful, panoramic views that left a deep impression that it would make a perfect sanctuary for settling down someday. Build a house, maybe get a dog or two. But then, as fast as the cast of a spinning reel, it had left his stream of consciousness. Until recently.

  He combed through his wet, wavy hair and rolled on deodorant, then debated whether to trim his beard before deciding to keep it soft as it was for Dayna’s sake. Warmed again by thoughts of being able to hold and kiss her goodnight, his eye caught the outline of a heart in the corner of the half-fogged mirror. He smiled and traced over the line her finger had made, sure they were on the cusp of something incredible.

  After stepping into a clean pair of gray sweats and putting on a fresh t-shirt, he opened the door and walked out of a cloud of steam feeling relaxed. He took a long, admiring gaze at Dayna outstretched on the couch, inching his way down from her curvaceous thighs to her polished-pink toes.

  “Feel better?” she asked.

  “Yes, much,” he said, quickly ducking into the fridge. “How’s your beer?”

  She sat up and slid her legs off the couch to make room. “Fine. But everything would be much better if you’d hurry your ass up and get over here.”

  “On my way, sugar,” he said, opening a new bottle so fast, the cap was still spinning on the countertop by the time he reached her. He plopped down and put his feet on the coffee table as she nestled under his arm. Cold beer, hot girl. Life was good.

  “You’re still warm.” She nuzzled his neck. “And ohhh, you smell delicious.”

  “It’s just soap and water,” he said.

  “No, that’s not it.” She breathed him in, running her hand across his chest. “It’s you, definitely you. You’re like, ahhh, sweet, warm man candy.”

  “Man candy?” He chuckled as she kissed her way down his neck.

  “You’re my man. And you’re like candy. Man. Candy.”

  You’re my man. He slowly repeated her words in his head as if trying them on for size. He liked the way they fit.

  “What?” She blinked, as if reading his mind. “You told Abel I was your girlfriend, didn’t you?”

  “Well, I didn’t put it like that. He just filled in the blanks.”

  Dayna backed away with a disappointed “Oh,” and he immediately regretted his poor choice of phrasing.

  He quickly reached for her hand. “Make no mistake, I didn’t say it but of course, I think of you that way,” he said, looking into her eyes. “You know how special you are to me.”

  She was still smiling after he kissed her. “So, what time do you usually hit the hay?” she asked, sounding awfully eager. He wasn’t about to question her enthusiasm for going to bed.

  “Around ten.”

  “Me too,” she chirped, eyeing his beer. “You going to finish that first?”

  He chuckled. “Yeah, I was planning to.”

  “Well, then.” She slapped a hand on her thigh, her eyes darting around the room as if searching for an idea. “Let’s play a game.”

  “I don’t have any games, but I’ve got a couple decks of cards if you want.”

  “No, silly. I mean slumber party games.”

  “Oh. Well, as long as it doesn’t involve painting my toes in girly colors, sure, I guess that’s okay.”

  “Excellent.” She cackled like a mad scientist, gleefully rubbing her hands together. “Truth or Dare?”

  “Oh, shit.”

  “Come on, you said we could.”

  “All right, fine.” He rolled his eyes. “Dare.”

  She put her hand on her hip. “No, you can’t say ‘dare’ right off the bat. You need to work up to that. Haven’t you ever played this before?”

  “Not while I was sober,” he joked, causing her eyebrows to cave sternly. “Okay, okay. Truth.”

  “What’s your real name?”

  “Jesus. You don’t pull any punches, do you?” He shook his head, buying time to sneak around her query. “Okay, my wallet’s on the kitchen counter. Go get it and fish out my driver’s license.”

  She leapt from the couch and bounded over his outstretched legs.

  “Good to see your ankle is doing much better,” he said, smirking at her sudden agility.

  “Yup.” She concentrated on digging through the contents of the worn leather billfold. Upon finding his license, she turned and gave him a deadly scowl. “Fuck you.”

  “What? Tack Collins is my legal name and has been since 1991.”

  “You know what I meant. What is your real-real first name?”

  He wagged his finger in the air. “Uh-uh. Your turn’s over. It’s my turn now.”

  Dayna slammed the wallet down. “I really hate you sometimes, you know that?” She stepped over his outstretched legs and sat down on the couch, folding her arms across her chest as she pouted. “Truth.”

  “When’s the last time you slept with CJ?”

  “Tack, come on. Let’s not go there tonight, okay?”

  “I just wanna know.” He shrugged, staring at the bottle in his hand while peeling the label.

  She sighed. “Before Christmas, all right?”

  He turned his head so fast he almost gave himself whiplash. “Really?”

  “He came back to Buffalo for the holidays. I saw him once and then he spent the rest of the time at his mother’s house. There. Happy now?”

  “So you haven’t… You mean not once since moving in with him?”

  She shivered in disgust. “No, of course not.”

  “Wow. It’s just…wow, not at all what I was expecting to hear. I mean, if you were living under my roof, good Lord
, I’d be having you six ways from Sunday.”

  Dayna grabbed his face and kissed him. “I love when you say things like that.”

  “It’s true. CJ’s gotta be a Goddamn robot ’cause I get wood just seeing you walk into the room.”

  “Oh yeah?” She excitedly sat up on her knees.

  He smiled at her reaction, which made all the more sense now that he realized her springs and coils had been wound tight since Christmas. The fire in her eyes was primal and he knew exactly how to stoke it.

  “Baby,” he said, his voice dropping an octave, “if you were a Dairy Queen flavor, I’d get me an extra large cone and lick you all the way home.”

  The tip of her tongue glided across her bottom lip, slicking it wet with some seriously sexy intent. “Finish up that beer,” she commanded, her chest rising and falling with every quick breath. “You’re taking me to bed.”

  * * * *

  Dayna sailed down the hallway, hearing the hollow thud of Tack’s empty bottle on the table behind her as he jumped up from the couch and followed her to the bedroom.

  “It sure is hot in here,” she said, shaking her hair loose with a teasing smile. “You’d better lose the shirt, cowboy.”

  “Is that a dare?” he asked with a defiant edge.

  “No, it’s a direct order,” she said, sitting on the edge of the bed. She lay back, propped up on her elbows to pointedly stick her chest out. By the way he stared hungrily, she had a very good idea of how enticing she must have looked from his vantage point.

  He stripped off his shirt, balled it up and threw it to the floor. “Now what?” he asked, his voice shaking a little.

  She stretched out her leg and smoothed her bare foot up his outer thigh to his hip. “Now I want you to…oh.” A soft moan thwarted her thoughts when she spotted how excited their little game was making him. Those sweats definitely needed to go next. “Tell me your name. For real this time.”

  “Okay, I’ll tell you.” He heaved a sigh, then smiled. “After you pull up your top.”

  She laughed. “Hey, that’s not how you play.”

  “That’s how I play,” he growled, crawling onto the bed and hovering above her. “Show me those beautiful tits again and I’ll tell you my name.”