“And this one?” He moved his finger to her other scar—the one just below her left breast.
“I had a run-in with a barbed-wire fence when I was a kid.” She smiled when he glanced up at her. “In case you haven’t figured it out, Kayla was the girly girl, and I was the tomboy.”
“You may have been a tomboy back then,” a wicked smile curved his lips, “but, baby, you’re all woman now.”
Chapter Fifteen
A loud and irritating chirping noise roused Matt out of a sound sleep. “What the hell?” he muttered as, next to him, Kelly groaned and reached blindly for her cell phone on the nightstand. She fumbled with it and then finally—blessed silence.
“It’s time to get up, isn’t it?” he asked as he slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her to him. Against his flesh, her body was warm and soft; his dick, already at half-mast just because it was morning, pressed into the crevice of her ass.
“Mmm...unfortunately, yes.” Her voice was even sexier in the morning. “It’s six-thirty. We have to be on the bus for the airport by seven forty-five,” she added, but made no move to get out of bed.
Fine with him. It had been a long time since he’d woken up next to a woman he actually liked. It was different—in a good way—and he wanted to prolong the experience for as long as he could.
Content, he pressed his lips to her satiny shoulder and inhaled her sweet fragrance. Then he slid his hand across her rib cage to cup her breast and with his thumb made slow lazy brushes over her nipple. Last night he’d discovered her breasts were very sensitive, and so he’d paid them a lot of attention. Her breathy moans excited him, but he’d taken his time. It wasn’t until he’d touched her between her legs and found her soft and wet that he felt like he was going to lose his mind if he didn’t fuck her soon. And when he did, it was pretty damn hot. So hot he wanted to do it again right now.
Right now was out of the question. First, he’d only had the one condom in his wallet, and second, he had to get back to his room without any of his teammates, or the skipper, seeing him. If word got out that he and Kelly had slept together, the news would spread like wildfire throughout the Blaze organization and could adversely affect her reputation, and maybe even her job if the team had a no-fraternization policy between the front office staff and the players. He couldn’t let that happen. Kelly loved her job. There was no way he would let her become the subject of gossip or possibly be fired because of him.
With great reluctance, he slipped his hand from her breast, shoved the sheet aside and got out of bed. He stepped over his clothes and went into the bathroom to take care of business. When he returned to the room, Kelly was sitting up, clutching the sheet to her chest, covering her statuesque body. Her golden-brown hair was in tangled disarray around her shoulders, her lips were still swollen from last night’s kisses, and her amber eyes were sultry as her gaze skated over his chest, then lower.
She looked sexier than hell, making it awfully hard for him to leave. Again, something he wasn’t used to. Leaving was his specialty.
Trying to ignore the arousal that tugged at his groin, he made quick work of picking his clothes up from the floor and getting dressed. Kelly was silent but he could feel her watching him. Did she regret last night? He hoped not. He didn’t regret it and wanted a repeat—as soon as possible.
When he finished tying his shoes, he looked up. “For the record, I really don’t want to leave right now,” he said and noted the slight widening of her eyes.
“I don’t want you to leave either,” she said almost shyly. Funny, shyness was one trait he’d never associated with her.
“Finally.” Matt grinned broadly. “We agree on something.”
“Who says miracles can’t happen.” She laughed softly. “For weeks we’ve hated each other’s guts and now...” She twisted the hem of the sheet with her fingers.
“And now we don’t. Don’t worry. I know you’re still going to ride my ass about those interviews.”
Kelly lifted her chin and gave him the same indomitable glare he’d seen ever since the night they’d met. Only now it didn’t piss him off. “Damn straight, I am.”
“I go to the media room after every game.” Matt moved to the bed and looked down at her. “That’s more than enough.”
“Tell that to the dozens of reporters and sports anchors I’ve been putting off ever since you were traded.” She let out a long sigh. “It’s not easy placating them.”
“Yet you make it seem effortless.” He bent down intending to give her a quick kiss, but the moment his lips met hers it turned into much more than that. She parted her mouth and he couldn’t resist deepening the kiss. He reached behind her head and fisted her hair in hand, his primal instincts kicking in just from the warm moist feel of her mouth against his. Her unrestrained response sent a shot of liquid heat straight to his dick; it was all he could do not to get back into bed and kiss every inch of her amazing body.
He was about five seconds from doing that when common sense reared its annoying head. With a low groan, he pulled back. “Rain check?” His gut kicked as he met her luminous gaze and erotic images from the night before played in his head. How the hell was he supposed to function when all he could think about was making her come in every way imaginable?
Kelly’s lips tilted in a suggestive smile. “Rain check.” The husky sound of her voice didn’t help to cool the lust in his veins or between his legs. He could listen to her read the box scores and get turned on.
He let go of her hair and lightly brushed her soft cheek with his fingers. “See you later,” he said and then headed for the door. After opening it, he checked the hallway and slipped out, closing it behind him. As he strode toward his room, he made a mental note to buy condoms. Maybe it was presumptuous, but he had a strong feeling he was going to need them.
* * *
After finishing her latest press release, Kelly saved the file and powered down her laptop. As soon as she checked in to the hotel in D.C., she’d email it to her media contacts and check in with her Washington Nationals counterpart. A number of local reporters and broadcasters had requested interviews, and since most of them wanted to be the one to score an interview with the elusive Matt Scanlon, she was going to have to siphon them off to other players. That task should be easy to accomplish. Rizzo had never met a reporter he didn’t like, Marquis Lopes was currently on a highly touted hitting streak, and rookie pitcher Trey Gentry had come within one inning of throwing a no-hitter during the Marlins series. All of them were in demand for interviews. She could—and would—use that to her advantage.
She sipped the Frappuccino she’d picked up at the coffee shop in the airport before takeoff, vaguely aware of the muted chatter of the players and coaches sitting around her. The chartered airplane was spacious. Some of the players congregated in groups and talked baseball, others preferred to sit by themselves and listen to music on their MP3 players. Matt and J.T. usually sat together and this morning was no different—except for one thing: they were both sound asleep, dead to the world.
When J.T. had boarded the plane, it was obvious by his wan complexion and bloodshot eyes that he was hungover. Kelly didn’t feel one bit sorry for him. He’d brought it on himself by drinking way more than he was used to. He was damn lucky Tom Morgan had changed up the roster and had him starting tomorrow’s game in Matt’s place instead of tonight’s as planned. He’d fallen asleep with his head against the window before the plane had left Miami.
As for Matt, well, when he boarded the plane he didn’t resemble a man who’d only gotten a few hours of sleep. Instead he looked refreshed and stunningly handsome, if not a bit preppy, in his brown corduroy sport coat, light blue button-up shirt and khaki pants. He and J.T. had chosen a row two up from hers and when their eyes met, the scorching heat in his almost melted her panties. It was one of those remember what we did last night? looks followed up with a and we’re going to do it again smile that made her quiver with anticipation. After that, it was har
d to concentrate on that press release.
Or anything else, for that matter.
Two hours later, Kelly sat on an extremely comfortable tweed-covered chair in the dramatic lobby of the Liaison Capitol Hill hotel. In no hurry to check in, she snorted derisively as she read Angie’s latest text. If there was an award for the worst boyfriend ever, Scott would win by a landslide. It was bad enough that he rarely took Angie out, or socialized with her friends or family, but now the tightwad had really crossed the line. Angie’s birthday was approaching and she had her heart set on a weekend trip to the Napa Valley. But stick-up-his-ass Scott had canceled the trip because gas prices were too high. According to Angie, his exact words were “there’s no way I’m paying that much money just to watch grapes grow.”
“Loser,” she muttered, shoved her phone into the side pocket of her purse and gazed up at the large portrait of Martin Luther King, Jr. on the wall opposite her. She studied it for a moment, imagining what it might have been like to live through those turbulent times. Here she was, so close to the Lincoln Memorial where Dr. King gave his “I Have a Dream” speech but she had no time to visit the memorial, or any other of the historic sites she’d always wanted to see. Unfortunately, traveling with the team left little time for sightseeing.
Shifting her gaze from the portrait, her pulse spiked when Matt moved toward her, key card in hand. She tried not to devour him with her eyes—a losing battle because the man was just too damn gorgeous not to ogle. He’d forgone his morning shave. A dark shadow stubbled his sculpted jaw. Could he be any sexier? She thought not and despite her best effort not to be, she was affected. Looking at him reminded her of last night and how he’d taken her to a place she’d never been before. A place where her usual inhibitions had slipped away; where, for the first time in her life, she’d existed wholly in the moment. No uncertainties—just pleasure.
“What are you doing after the game?” he asked after he’d halted in front of her.
“The usual. I’ll either get something to eat at the ballpark or order something when I get back to my room.”
“Have dinner with me.”
Kelly glanced past him to where Gentry and Rizzo stood near the front desk speaking with the concierge. As much as she wanted to say yes, it wouldn’t be wise for her and Matt to be seen alone together. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t shared a meal with the players before, but it was usually in a group, never alone. Was she being paranoid? Maybe, but her job was important to her; she had to remain professional at all times. Or, at the very least, in public.
“We can’t,” she said with a decisive shake of her head. “Anyone on the team could see us.”
“They won’t if we order room service.” When she hesitated he continued in a low voice, “Look, I want to spend time with you, and since we can’t do it the normal way right now, we have to improvise.”
Right now? Did that mean things would be different when they got back to San Francisco?
“It’s just dinner,” Matt said when she didn’t respond.
It wasn’t just dinner and they both knew it. The attraction between them was too strong for that. They would start with dinner and end up in bed. The thought of making love with him again was exciting—all the more because it was clandestine. The Blaze didn’t have a formal policy prohibiting front office personnel from dating the players, but because of the possible professional ramifications she had never once considered getting involved with any member of the team.
Until now. Now that she’d gotten a taste of him, she wanted more. One night with Matt wasn’t enough.
Rising from the chair, Kelly slung her purse over her shoulder. “My room. After the game.” The wicked gleam in his eyes made her body hum with anticipation. “I’ll call room service.” She gave him a naughty smile. “You bring the condoms.”
* * *
Matt sat at the oblong table in the Nationals’ visiting team’s media room facing a myriad of reporters who, from his perspective, resembled a bunch of hungry vultures waiting to pounce and pick his carcass clean. After each question, a few of the older vultures wrote furiously on their notepads, while the younger ones used laptops and recording devices. It was insane how many reporters had squeezed into the small room. They were packed in like sardines but none of them seemed to care as long as they got a good sound bite.
“Okay, folks,” Kelly said from the back of the room where she’d been standing since the grand inquisition had begun. “One more question and we’re done.”
Thank God. He wanted to kiss her for finally bringing this circus to an end. That wasn’t the only reason. She looked seriously hot and he wasn’t the only one who’d noticed. Several of his teammates had done a double take when she’d strolled into the locker room before the game. For some reason she’d worn a dress tonight. Not that he was complaining, but it was unusual. He didn’t know much about women’s clothing but he’d undressed enough women in his day to know she was wearing a wrap dress. He hoped to unwrap that dress very soon.
“Matt, what do you have to say about that play at home plate in the bottom of the ninth?” a reporter from a prestigious baseball magazine asked. “It’s clear on the replay you tagged Zimmerman before he touched the bag. That call cost you guys the game.”
The reporter was right. Not only did that call cost them the game, the loss had dropped them down in the standings and into a tie with the Dodgers, who had won their game earlier in the evening.
Matt shot a sideways glance at Marquis Lopes and Trey Gentry who sat next to him at the table. Their somber expressions spoke volumes. They were worried. It was coming down to the wire. The division was up for grabs and any mistake could potentially cost them the title. But what was worse than a bad call was if his teammates let this loss get into their heads and fuck up their thinking. Mental mistakes at this time of the year could be devastating.
“There’s not much to say.” He leaned forward to rest his arms on the table. “Zimmerman was out. The ump couldn’t see the tag from his vantage point. It happens.” He scanned the room, his gaze resting on Kelly’s solemn face for a few seconds before moving on. “There’s still a lot of baseball left to play. I have no doubt the Blaze are going to the postseason.”
“Is that a prediction?” another reported called out.
Matt shrugged. “Call it whatever you want,” he said and looked at Lopes and Gentry before staring directly into the camera recording the press conference. “This team has the most talented group of guys I’ve ever played with. I’m not worried,” he said confidently, and with that took the first step to putting his past with the Dodgers behind him. Even if it was only for the rest of the season, he was a member of the San Francisco Blaze and he’d do everything in his power to get them to the World Series, and then win the whole fucking thing. It wasn’t about him. It was about Kelly, J.T., Lopes, Gentry and the rest of the team—even that jerk-off Rizzo who he disliked intensely. But more importantly, he had to do it for Lily. He’d made her a promise, and unlike the last promise he’d made, he was going to keep this one.
After the longest bus ride in history, and then making a pit stop in his room to change into jeans and a polo shirt, Matt finally knocked on Kelly’s door. Feeling a bit shady, he glanced to his left and then his right. The hallway was clear. As he waited he hoped no one from the team would happen by and question why he was standing outside of Kelly’s room after curfew.
When she opened the door, she was smiling, radiant, and still wearing the print dress she’d worn during the game. The only difference was her hair was no longer in a ponytail, and she’d taken off her shoes. She looked so damn gorgeous his breath jammed in his throat, and then his brain faltered as her sweet citrusy scent enveloped him. He didn’t know what the fuck was going on with him, but he wasn’t going to question it. He was, however, going to enjoy the hell out of it.
“I have good news and bad news,” she said as she pulled the door open so he could enter. “Which do you want first?”
“The bad news,” he said as he moved past her. The room was a carbon copy of his. The walls and furniture were dark, and the bed had a high chocolate-brown leather-covered headboard. The cream-colored bedspread, off-white ceiling and silver light fixtures contrasted with the dark colors and saved the room from looking like a dungeon.
“The bad news is the restaurant that provides in-room dining is closed for the evening.” She closed the door and turned toward him. “The good news is that the front desk clerk recommended a place across the street that’s open until three in the morning. She sent a bellman over to pick up the order. I hope you like cheeseburgers.” Kelly lowered her eyes to the small brown bag he held in his hand. Her lips curved in a sly smile as she pointed to it. “Is that what I think it is?”
“You said bring condoms.” He grinned. “So I brought condoms.”
Less than an hour later, Matt was sitting on the only available seating option other than the bed—the dark brown couch placed against the wall parallel to the bed and just under the large picture window that afforded a view of the rooftops of the buildings across the street. Not that he cared about the view outside, he was more interested in the view inside the room.
He’d finished his cheeseburger, which wasn’t half bad considering it came from a place inexplicably called the Billy Goat Tavern and Grill. Kelly had eaten half of hers and had excused herself to go to the bathroom. He used the prepackaged wet napkin that had come in the bag to wipe his hands and then got up and disposed of the paper bag in the trash can next to the dresser. He heard the toilet flush and then the sound of running water. When Kelly came out of the bathroom, she stopped short and her cheeks turned a faint shade of pink.
“Were you listening?” Her tone was accusatory, her face tight with tension.
Surprised at her reaction, he shook his head. “I was throwing the bag in the trash.”
“Oh.” She tugged at her bottom lip with her teeth and then gave him an apologetic smile. “Sorry, it’s just when I saw you it reminded me of...” She shrugged a shoulder. “My parents used to stand outside the bathroom door whenever I came over for dinner. They wanted to make sure I wasn’t purging.”
The Winning Season Page 19
