by Roz Lee
“Timeframe? A few days?”
“Huh? Oh, one night.”
“Oh.” A crease appeared between her eyebrows.
“Look, Clare…none of this matters because I’m through with the club, and you aren’t going anywhere near it.”
“How did the woman I saw get the charm…there?”
Tony grew hard remembering, imagining doing the same to Clare. “The charms are custom made in advance. The jewels on first and third represent the team colors of the guy who invited her. Second and home plate are diamonds. If she earns the charm, there’s this doctor, a former girlfriend of one of the original club members. We meet at her office after hours, and she does the clit piercing.”
She dangled the charm between her thumb and forefinger. “How many women have one of these?”
He speared his fingers through his hair. “How the fuck would I know?” he shouted, instantly hating himself for letting her get to him. He took a deep breath and let it out. He tried again. “I know of maybe a dozen. But it could be ten times that, for all I know.”
“How many players are part of the club?”
“I don’t know exactly. There are a few on each team, I think. People get traded, retire, get married. You know how it is.”
“How many women have you invited to run the bases?”
“None.”
She arched an eyebrow. “Seriously?”
“That’s the truth, Clare.” He’d never wanted to, until he met Clare.
“How many times have you played the game?”
“Fuck! I don’t know. More than I can count.”
“Did they all earn the charm?”
“No. It’s not an easy thing to do.”
She sighed. “I’m sure it’s not.” She opened her desk drawer and dropped the charm back into the small, curved indentation meant to hold paperclips. “I know if I earned one, it certainly wouldn’t end up in a flea market or an antique store.”
“Why in God’s name would you want one?”
Clare shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe because it would mean three hunks found me attractive enough to do that with? But I’m sure that’s never going to happen.”
What the hell? He closed the distance between them and clasped her elbows in his hands. “Look at me, Clare.” He waited until her gaze met his. “I don’t know what else I can do to make you believe you’re desirable. Hell, you’re the most desirable woman I’ve ever seen. I’ve wanted you from the first moment I saw you at Holder’s fundraiser, and I’ve wanted you every minute since. It makes me crazy to even think about another man looking at you and wanting you, but I know they do.” Yet, I can’t stop imagining you on your knees, impaled….
“Antonio,” she protested. “You’re in the tabloids and on the news all the time with skinny models and actresses.”
“You. Are. Not. Fat. You aren’t even close to being fat. You have curves. Women are supposed to have curves. Having sex with a stick thin woman is about as much fun as I imagine fucking a knothole in a piece of lumber would be.” He held up his right index finger. “Once, Clare. I did it once, and swore I’d never do it again.”
“But—”
“My publicist sets those dates up for me. It’s all for publicity. They’re her clients, too. They’re seen with a baseball player, and we get out picture in the papers. TMZ talks about us. She gets modeling gigs, and I get endorsement contracts. That’s all it is.”
“Well, I can’t compete with that.”
“You aren’t competing with anyone or anything. There’s only you.”
She dropped her gaze to the toes of their shoes.
“After what we did today, you still think I’m lying? Christ, Clare. What do I have to do to convince you you’re a beautiful woman?”
“Invite me to Bases Loaded.”
He backed away, coming to a stop when his heel hit the bookcase. He raised both palms in defense. “Oh no.” He shook his head. “No way. No. Fucking. Way.”
Her eyes shot daggers at him. “Why not?”
“Haven’t you been listening? First off, you don’t need other men—” He choked on the word. “—touching you in order to feel beautiful. I’m telling you, you’re beautiful. A knock-out. And I fuckin’ don’t want other men so much as looking at you, much less…fucking you from here to Kingdom Come.” He closed his eyes and let his shoulders slump against the row of books behind him. Tony, you’re a lying, perverted ass. “Ah, Clare, you’re killing me here.”
“Your friends wouldn’t want me. That’s why you won’t invite me.”
His eyes snapped open. He growled. Damn it. How could he make her believe him? “That. Is. Not. True. I won’t invite you because they would be all over you like fucking horny rabbits. If I put your name up, there would be a fight over the two other spots on the team. And, if I let you do this, I’d have to kill two of my friends afterwards. Scratch that. I’d kill them before, just to keep them from seeing you naked.”
“I want to do it.”
He squeezed his eyes shut again and counted to ten. God damn it all to hell. How could he make her understand when every word out of his mouth was a fuckin’ lie? He forced his eyes open. For her sake and his he needed to put a stop to this nonsense.
“Trust me, you don’t want to do this. It’s three men.” He held up three fingers. “Three, Clare. At the same time. Three times in one night. Do the math. That’s a lot of fucking. I’ve seen women who never made it through the first session, much less all three. It’s a physical as well as a mental challenge.”
That seemed to shut her up. At last.
“Have you ever been with more than one man at a time?” he said.
“Are you crazy? No!”
“Then you have no idea what you’re asking for.” If only he didn’t. He might be able to live with himself.
She folded her arms across her midsection again. Maybe, just maybe, he was getting through to her. Since God didn’t seem to be listening to him today, he sent a new-age plea out into the universe. Please. Let her understand and forget about this.
She pulled her desk chair back where it belonged and sank into it. Her expression told him he had won, but it gave him no pleasure because if he won on this issue, he’d lost on the other.
“If that’s the way you want it. You better go now. I’ve got tests to grade.” She leaned to the side, and when she straightened, she dumped a stack of papers on top of her desk. “Shut the door behind you, please.”
He crossed to the door, unlocked it, turned the knob, and paused. “Clare.” Her name came out as a plea. He didn’t want their relationship to end this way. He didn’t want it to end at all.
She didn’t look up. “Thanks for coming by, Antonio. It was fun while it lasted.”
While it lasted. As in, it was over.
He opened the door. “I’ll be back.” He closed the door behind him, took a step, and leaned one shoulder and his head against the wall. Shit. He sounded like fucking Swarzenegger. “I’ll be baaack!” He’d come here simply wanting to take her to dinner then maybe make out a little somewhere before he took her back to his hotel room and got down to business. But one look at her sitting behind her desk, all prim and proper, and he’d gone stone hard and lost his mind.
He knew he should have taken it slow with her. Maybe if he had, she would have forgotten all about that damned charm. No way was she running the bases. No way in hell.
Chapter Ten
Clare folded her arms on her desk and dropped her forehead on top of them. The skin on the back of her neck tingled. The sensation morphed into a shiver and ran down her spine all the way to her toes, leaving her cold inside. Lord, what had she been thinking? She had never exposed herself, body and soul to another human being, much less a man like Antonio. He probably thought she was insane.
Her stomach cramped. What had possessed her to ask him to invite her to participate in his secret club’s activities? That alone proved her insanity. At least he confirmed the existence of
Bases Loaded. Jessica hadn’t lied.
She was proud of herself for coming up with the story about overhearing the anonymous woman in the restroom. The last thing she needed was Antonio feeling sorry for her for allowing a vicious bitch to bully her at every opportunity. She’d seen Jessica’s pierced clit and endured the torture of hearing how only the most beautiful women were invited to earn a charm. The incident had happened over a year ago, and Clare still made sure she knew where Jessica was before she entered a restroom. Being locked inside once and forced to listen to the witch and her coven spew venom at her was enough.
Now that she knew what Jessica had done to earn the charm…. The knowledge went a long way to dispelling the chill creeping over her body. Holy smoley! And here she’d thought Jessica had been unnecessarily graphic, when in fact she hadn’t given many details at all.
Antonio had told her all those things to scare her off, and Clare had to admit she’d been shocked at first. But since she’d had a chance to think about it, she was more determined than ever to gain an invitation.
She’d never done anything close to daring. Hell, until today, her only other sexual experiences had been in a bed, and one time on the sofa in her boyfriend’s apartment. She hadn’t enjoyed it much for worrying his roommate might walk in at any moment. And now she was considering doing it with three men, three times in one night?
She sat up and rubbed her eyes. When her vision cleared, she opened the center drawer and took out the charm. It was beautiful—a work of art that had once belonged to a beautiful, desirable woman. First and third bases were green and yellow, respectively. The Hornets?
No one had to tell her the only women who had these were beautiful. Men might indulge in a pity fuck every now and then, but to do something like what went on in one of those sessions, the woman would have to be a beauty. Something she was not.
She dropped the charm back into the drawer and slammed it shut. She could fantasize all she wanted, but the fantasy wasn’t going to become reality. Antonio had said no, and he meant what he said. She would probably never see him again except from high above the field in her little booth. Today had been an aberration. He had probably arrived at her office horny and short on available women—thus the office sex. It wouldn’t happen again.
Tears streamed down her cheeks, splashing on the test she’d been staring at instead of grading.
* * *
Goddamn.
Antonio sat behind the wheel of his car parked outside Clare’s office and scrubbed his hands over his face. She couldn’t be serious. He remembered the look on her face when she’d kicked him out of her office.
Yeah. She meant it.
There was no way he would invite Clare Kincaid to run the bases. An image formed unbidden in his mind—Clare naked, that look of ecstasy he’d just recently seen on her face put there by the three men surrounding her. Touching her. Fucking her.
Shit.
“Not going to happen,” he mumbled to himself. No matter how hot the image in his brain he wasn’t going to share her with anyone.
He put the key ignition and sat back, glaring out the window at the early Fall landscape. Brown leaves clung to lifeless limbs, jostled occasionally by a warm breeze. The grass was still green but, in a few weeks, would probably turn brittle and brown. Time was on his side, he figured. He had the entire off-season to make her forget about the club, and all the auction items he’d won—if could convince her to see him again.
He already missed her, and he’d only left her a few minutes ago. He should give her time to miss him before he tried to reason with her.
The hell with that.
Locking his car once again, he headed back into the building. He wouldn’t be pushed around on the subject of Bases Loaded. His answer was no. It was always going to be no, and her stubborn, irrational attitude wouldn’t stop him from having her again. Somehow, he would convince her to let the subject drop. And one of these days, he’d stop dreaming night and day of her sweet body stretched and filled.
Taking the stairs instead of the elevator gave him a few extra minutes to wipe his brain clean of inappropriate images. She was his future, his forever. Thinking about her in the middle of a cluster-fuck wasn’t appropriate.
It’s all her fault for bringing up the damn club in the first place.
Pausing on a landing to catch his breath, he leaned against the cool cinderblock wall and squeezed his eyes shut. No matter how much he wanted to place the blame somewhere else, he couldn’t. That image, and a few other equally inappropriate ones, had been with him almost from the moment he’d met her. But he wasn’t going to make them a reality. A guy didn’t do that kind of thing with the woman he wanted to be the mother of his children.
She isn’t going to goad me into letting her run the bases.
Resolve firmly in place, he pushed away from the wall and continued down the hall.
He stopped outside her closed office door and took a deep breath. Letting it out, he ran through the same mental exercise he used when he stepped up to the plate. Breathe. In. Out. Focus. Stay calm. This wasn’t the first time he’d faced an angry opponent, but the outcome had never mattered as much either. He didn’t know what he would do if she threw him out again. Something deep inside told him she was The One, and he wasn’t inclined to disagree.
When he had been deep inside her, she felt like The One. No one had ever felt that good, that right before. He’d never given much thought to finding The One, but he never imagined she would need convincing. How was it he could feel the connection and she didn’t? Christ! He’d made love to her, twice, and all she wanted from him was an invitation to a cluster-fuck.
Tony leaned his shoulders against the opposite wall and stared at her door. He wasn’t an idiot, but he knew love wasn’t supposed to be this way. Maybe he was kidding himself. Maybe he should just get back in his car and drive the fuck away. Leave her be. Forget about Clare Kincaid. Forget about the way his heart felt like it poured out through his dick when he was inside her.
Fuck that.
She was his.
Not bothering to knock, he opened her door. His heart sank to his toes.
“Ah, hell, babe.” He closed the door behind him. “Don’t cry.”
“I…I can’t help it.” She swiped her damp cheek with trembling fingers.
He crossed the room and gathered her in his arms before he took his next breath. Lifting her out of her chair, he sat in her place. She cuddled into his lap like a broken doll. He ignored his hardening cock and swept her hair back from her face. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t mean to make you cry.”
“I know,” she said with a sniff.
“Is this because I was an ass and we fucked in your office?”
“No.” A fresh tear leaked from one eye.
“Is it because I won’t invite you to run the bases?”
She hiccupped. “Yes.”
He closed his eyes, fighting for control. Shouting at her again wasn’t going to cut it. He held her until the red behind his eyelids faded to a dull gray. “Make me understand why you want to do it. I’ve never understood why a woman would want to.”
She sucked in a shaky breath. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“I know I don’t, babe. Please. Just tell me why it means so much to you. Make me understand.”
She shook her head and squirmed in his lap. His cock swelled. God, he really was an ass to want a crying woman.
“I can’t.”
“Yes, you can.” He gave her a little squeeze. “I’m not letting you go until you do.”
He heard her goddamned metronome in his head, tick-tocking away the minutes of his life. He glanced at the corner of his desk. It silently mocked him. Shit. Would he always have the thing in his head now when he made love to her, directing the tempo of his thrusts, counting off the short painting breaths she took when she came?
“All the women who do it are beautiful, aren’t they?”
He thought of the women h
e personally knew had run the bases. “Yes, I guess you could say that.”
“I want to feel beautiful. If I had three men desiring me, doing those things to me, I think I would feel beautiful then.”
“You are beautiful, Clare.”
“I hear you say it, Antonio, and I think you must believe it—at least a little bit, or you wouldn’t have done what you did today with me.”
He stroked her arm with one hand while the other itched to squeeze the delicious bit of hip it caressed. “I do believe it. What I don’t understand is why you don’t believe it.”
“I know it doesn’t make any sense, but you know the woman I told you about? The one who had the charm?”
“Do I know her? As in, know who she is?”
“No. But I guess it’s possible you do know her that way. I meant, do you remember me telling you about her?”
Not likely he’d ever forget. “I remember.” Damned idiot woman showing off her cunt in a public bathroom. Who would do something like that?
“I made that story up, about overhearing the conversation. The truth is, she cornered me in the restroom. Had one of her friends lock the door and stand guard so I couldn’t get out.”
Bitch. Tony had a sudden urge to kill someone. “Why would she do something like that?”
“Because she’s a mean person, I guess.”
“What really happened in the restroom?”
“She showed me the charm, like I said. She wanted me to get a good look, because no one would ever want to fuck a woman like me. She said baseball players only wanted beautiful women.”
There were so many things wrong with that statement he didn’t know where to begin. If he ever found the woman who’d said those things to Clare, he would tell her just how ugly she really was. Beauty might be skin deep, but ugly went all the way down to the bone.
“I’m so sorry. Don’t you see? She might be beautiful on the outside, but she’s rotten to the core on the inside.”
“A part of me understands that, but another part of me recognizes what she said as truth. I know I’m not model material, but I think if I could earn one of those charms, it would prove she was wrong.”
