High Stick

by Alicia Hunter Pace

  “Connection?”

  He laughed a little. “I guess I was looking for a weightier, more important word, but yeah. Connection.”

  She put her hand on his neck, like she had before, and it was almost his undoing. “I feel it, too. I promised myself I’d wait until I found The One. There are no guarantees. I can’t give one and I’m not asking for one. But I feel the connection and I want to see.” She stroked his neck. “And I want you. If the carriage crashes, it crashes. At least I’ll know.”

  “What? What carriage?”

  “Never mind. Do you want to kiss me or do you want to go inside?”

  “Yes.” And he was out of the truck and opening her door in a flash. This was it—the beginning of what he’d always wanted.

  “I’m sorry it’s cold in here,” Merry said once they were inside. “I turned down the heat when I left. I figured I’d just go right to bed when I got home.” The moment the words were out of her mouth, she realized the implication and clapped her hand over her lips.

  “Nothing wrong with that.” When he pulled her into his arms, he saw that she was blushing. If he hadn’t already been rock hard, that would have done it.

  “I’ll just turn up the heat.”

  Like she hadn’t already. Nonetheless, she pulled away and adjusted the thermostat.

  “Can I get you anything?” Merry asked.

  “Yes. Your bed, with you in it.” He thought that was pretty clever for someone who was bad at smooth talk.

  She laughed and led him to the next room, which was tidy except for some discarded clothes on a chair—presumably what she’d taken off before putting on the party clothes, which he intended to take off her right now.

  “Be careful with that,” she said when he pulled at the bottom of her sparkly green top. “It’s not mine. I have to return it to Gabriella.”

  “Then you do it.” That might be better anyway. He sat on the edge of the double bed. The mattress was soft and it was piled with quilts. It was going to be an excellent, cozy place to be.

  She hesitated, but only slightly. Evidently, once she decided something, it was a done deal. Thank God.

  Her smile was shy, but she pulled the top over her head, revealing a plain white bra. It was simple, chaste, and it turned him on more than any black silk or red satin ever could. Instead of flinging the green top to the floor as he would have done had he been undressing her, she took her slow sweet time putting it on a hanger and covering it with plastic. He liked that she was showing respect for Gabriella’s property, but damn. Couldn’t they get on with it?

  His balls tightened and his penis throbbed.

  She placed her hands on the zipper of her jeans, then hesitated.

  “They need to go, too, but I hope you’re not going to be so particular about hanging them up.”

  “They wash and they’re mine.” She kicked off her shoes, removed her jeans, and threw them on the chair. Her panties were as modest and plain as her bra. He was contemplating taking both garments off her when she shivered.

  Right. He’d forgotten the cold. Immediately, he was on his feet. He threw back the quilts and held his hand out. “Here. You’re cold. Under the covers.”

  She pulled the quilt up until all he could see were emerald green eyes peeping at him. “Are you coming?”

  “Yes. Immediately if not sooner.” He hoped the second way he intended to come wouldn’t be immediate or soon, but with the way he was feeling now, he couldn’t be too sure. He began to shuck his clothes, and he was pretty sure he saw appreciation in her eyes.

  Her arms were open when he slipped under the covers beside her. He rubbed his hands over her back.

  “You’re warm,” she said.

  He pulled her tighter to him. “Come here against me. I’ll warm you.”

  As she shivered against him, his penis flat against her belly jerked and begged to be lower. He could have taken her right there, pumped into her, and come in seconds. But that wouldn’t do. He might not be her first, but he was her first in a very long while and it had to be perfect.

  His mouth found hers and their lips and tongues played together for a long time, exploring, tasting, loving. Yes, loving. He did love her and she had to love him, too, or she wouldn’t be here against his naked body, almost naked herself, caressing him.

  Gradually, her chills subsided and she moved her mouth from his. “I want to do something,” she said close to his ear. “I’ve thought . . . wanted . . . ”

  And she buried her head in his neck, breathing in and out until her mouth found that sweet spot that she couldn’t have known about if she had not been meant for him. And she seemed to know, seemed content to nuzzle and kiss him there as long as he wanted, which would be a lot longer than he could stand.

  “Never,” he whispered to her, “never have I felt like this, never have I felt so . . . connected.” She was right—connected was the perfect word. Had in the history of the world a man ever blown against a woman’s belly because she knew the right spot on his neck? Maybe if the woman was the right one.

  But it was time to give something back. “I need to see you.” He reached behind her, unhooked her bra, and threw it to the bottom of the bed. Suddenly, he knew what the saying “sight for sore eyes” meant. Balm, soothing, a sight that made everything perfect.

  Her breasts were so beyond lovely—lush, round, little mounds with rosy tips that were just waiting to be tasted. He stroked the underside of them, lifting and caressing, but he didn’t touch her nipples with his fingers. He wanted her first memory of his touch there to be the warm, wet feel of his mouth.

  No doubt she’d been expecting his hands, so her cry of pleasure was intensified by the surprise of it all. He feasted there for a good long time—sucking, biting, switching breasts and keeping her guessing.

  And she knew something about the power of surprise, too. “I want to touch you,” she said. He expected her first intimate exploration of him to begin with his back, sides, and neck, but her hand flew straight to his throbbing penis and he damn near lost it.

  The feeling was not just physical, but also went to his brain, his heart, and the very blood that flowed through him. It was so intense and the feeling was so centered and sure that he bit her nipple harder than he intended. She cried out.

  “Did I hurt you?” He jerked his head up.

  “God, no.” She removed one of her hands from his penis to bring his head back to her breast. “Do it again. Ah, yes. Just a little harder and hold.”

  When her hand made its way back down his body, she surprised him again by gently, gently cupping his aching balls and barely squeezing.

  Time stopped. It had to stop, or he would never make it inside her. She writhed against him, moaning as her hand gripped him harder and began to set a rhythm as if she instinctively knew what he needed, what would bring him home.

  But he wanted to come inside her, and that wasn’t going to happen if he didn’t do something different fast. He abandoned her breasts and gave her mouth a brief kiss before sliding down her body. He stripped her panties and her legs fell apart, no doubt expecting that the next thing she would feel would be his hard, throbbing member slipping inside her.

  Instead, he buried his face there. She cried out, her hips jutted forward to meet his darting tongue and seeking lips. Her hot, salty taste was intoxicating—so intoxicating that he almost didn’t slip his finger inside her in time to feel the pulsating spasms. And that would have been a shame.

  He kept his mouth there, sucking every bit of pleasure out of her until her cries became moans and her moans became a kitten’s mews.

  He slid up her body again and she threw her arms around him as his penis made contact with that part of her that had so recently found its pleasure.

  “I love you, Jarrett,” she said. “I do. I know it’s soon. Maybe I shouldn’t, but I do.”

  The burning fire of want in his groin worked its way into his belly and heart and turned to pure elation.

  “Shh.�
�� He kissed her. “Yes you should. It’s not too soon. Because I love you, too.”

  “Mmm.” She rocked her pelvis against him. “There’s more. I want it. You need it. I feel how much.”

  Truer words had never been spoken.

  He reached for the condom he’d put on the bedside table. When the New Year arrived, they were not at a party jostling for a bit of floor space to stand on and wishing to be anywhere but there.

  They were right where they wanted to be—under cozy quilts with him deep, deep inside her, bringing her home again until he spilled inside her with a force and a love he’d never known.

  Chapter Sixteen

  By noon on New Year’s Day, Jarrett was out of condoms.

  “It’s just as well,” Merry said. “We can’t stay in bed all day, anyway.”

  Jarrett scowled. “I don’t know why not.”

  “For one, I need a shower.” She made a show of sniffing the air. “So do you. But the most important reason: I’m hungry.”

  After exchanging words and acts of love, the morning was almost perfect, would have been perfect except for that pesky little gnat buzzing around—the Miss January gnat with a snowflake held high over its head. It severely needed swatting.

  She should tell him, explain. It wouldn’t be fair to go on accepting his sweet words and loving touches that sent her to the moon and back without telling him. He might run, but he might not. He might understand.

  “Jarrett I—” she began but he started to speak at the same time.

  “I love that you’re hungry and don’t mind saying so.” He clasped her hand and kissed her palm. “Another reason you’ve captured my heart. You value food over personal hygiene.” He laid her hand, still in his, against his heart and covered it with his other hand. “And you have, you know.”

  “Have what?”

  “Captured my heart.” His eyes were serious.

  Now was the time. She had to tell him about the calendar.

  But he spoke again. “You are what I’ve dreamed of all my life. You’re smart, focused, and willing to work hard for what you want. But more than that, you are so intrinsically decent. And let me tell you, that’s hard to find these days.” He stroked her breasts—the breasts she had bared to the world—with loving rather than sexual caresses. “And you are so beautiful—such a lady. I have taken other women home to meet my family, but I never should have. I should have waited for you. You are the woman I want to teach my sons and daughters how to move through life in a way they will be proud of.” He smiled that big, sweet smile that seemed to be only for her. “I knew it almost from the start, but I love you, Merry. I know we’ve said it to each other many times in the last twelve hours, but it’s been in the heat of the moment. I want to say it to you now. I love you.” There was expectation in his eyes—and what he was not expecting to hear was how she wasn’t nearly as decent as he supposed, maybe wasn’t the one who ought to be teaching his sons and daughters anything. How could she tell him now? Maybe later—later today, next week, or after five decades had passed. But not now.

  “I love you, too, Jarrett.” What else could she say? Besides, it was true. She might not have admitted it this soon even to herself without the passion, but that didn’t make it any less true. It was scary, but there it was. Maybe the carriage wasn’t going to crash. In the end, the shoe fit Cinderella and things turned out okay for her—at least as far as anybody knew.

  He looked relieved—and happy. “I was afraid you might take it back in the light of day.”

  “No. But you have to realize that I start back to school in five days. I still have to work. I have to study. Things aren’t always going to be easy.”

  “No matter how hard it is, it will be easier than being without you.” He leaned in and kissed her—a sweet, loving kiss for the sake of it. Not a down payment on what might follow. She was very lucky to have found a man who could kiss for the sake of it—if only she could keep him after later.

  “I’m lucky,” she said. She could have enumerated the ways, but she’d save that for a hard day when he wanted more of her time than she could give. For now, knowing that she felt lucky was enough to make him happy.

  “I could make things easier . . . ” He said it like he knew it wouldn’t be well received, but was hoping anyway.

  “In what way?” she asked warily.

  “You could quit at least one of your jobs—preferably the one at the arena so you can concentrate on watching me play.”

  “No. I need the money.”

  “You could move in with me. Then you wouldn’t need as much money.”

  “Too soon. And I won’t be a kept woman.”

  “Maybe you’ll change your mind. Until then, I guess I’ll have to help you count dishes and sweep floors after games—no matter how tired I am.” He let out a mock pitiful sigh.

  “From my experience in the last twelve hours, it seems you have plenty of stamina.”

  “And plenty of money. I don’t know why you won’t let me spread a little of it around.”

  “Because.”

  “Will you let me take you to Disney World when the season’s over? I get in free. We can ride Big Thunder Mountain and go in the Haunted Mansion.”

  He wanted assurance that they would still be a couple when the season ended. It was endearing.

  “Probably not when the season ends, but when my school term ends, yes.” Maybe she could tell him about the calendar while they were there. After all, Disney World was the happiest place on earth. No bad feelings allowed.

  “The season could go on longer than school. Depends on how the playoffs shake out, depends on how far we get.”

  “Depends, depends, depends.” Merry got out of bed.

  “Where are you going?” Jarrett reached for his phone on the bedside table and turned it on.

  “The shower. I might value food more than personal hygiene, but there isn’t any to speak of here, so I’ll take what I can get.”

  He began to scroll. “Maybe I’ll go home and shower and change. Then I’ll come back and we can go get lunch.”

  “Sure.” It was so odd to have a free day where she could say sure without thinking though what was expected of her. Christmas Day had been such a day, but she hadn’t had anyone to say sure to. This was better.

  “Hey, come back and look at this.” Jarrett held out his phone.

  “What is it?”

  “A link my agent sent me. We made the Twang blog. It’s mostly pictures.”

  She took the phone and read aloud, “‘The Nashville Sound and some of the best sounds of Nashville brought in the New Year at the Sound Town mansion of Sound defenseman Lars ‘Thor’ Eastrom. The two unlikely groups made merry until the wee hours of the morning.’ I’ll bet they did.” She began to scroll through the pictures. It was mostly music people—a lot of which Merry had never heard of, but there was one of a cranky-looking Thor, Sparks and Robbie, and Jan and Krystal. “Oh, look. Gabriella and Bryant did make it. Amy and Emile, too.”

  “I bet they didn’t stay long,” Jarrett said. “I noticed there wasn’t one of Sharon and Mikhail, which isn’t surprising. Mikhail would have taken one look at the parking and turned around and headed home. Scroll on down. We’re right after Faith and Tim.”

  “We’re in good company.” And there they were. Not a bad picture of her, but it was especially good of Jarrett. She handed him the phone back. “Will you send me the link?”

  “Sure.”

  Sure was a good word to hear, too.

  Chapter Seventeen

  On January 2, the world cranked up again and Jarrett didn’t like it worth a damn.

  Yesterday had been the best day of his life, but he’d had to leave Merry’s bed this morning to practice and she’d had to go work.

  If she’d been off, he wouldn’t be with Bryant headed toward Beauford to pick up Gabriella’s wedding rings. But they’d be back in time for him to pick Merry up from work. He had to be on a plane early in the morning for LA,
so they were staying at his place tonight so he could pack.

  “Worst New Year’s Eve party ever,” Bryant said. “I don’t know who Thor was maddest at—Tradd or Sparks and Scottie. I was pretty mad, too. I thought it would just be the team. I wanted Gabriella to be able to show off her engagement ring, but there was no way. Even if we could have found our friends, it would have been impossible to talk. But Gabriella said she didn’t care, that she didn’t need anyone’s approval for her to like her ring.”

  “So she did like it?”

  “Yeah. I did good getting her a Neyland Beauford original. Gabriella likes an original. She’s going to cost me a fortune in clothes.” Bryant sounded pretty happy about that.

  Jarrett could relate. He’d love to buy Merry the world and maybe he would in time.

  “How did all those people end up at the party anyway?”

  “From what understand, Tradd pulled some strings and got some of the big names to attend and then invited a bunch of other people and told them to bring a friend.”

  “What was her motive?” Jarrett asked.

  “I don’t know that she had one. I’m just glad it’s over and Pickens didn’t find out she was at that party. Somehow, it would be our fault. We’d all get fired. Or sold off to Massachusetts.”

  Jarrett had all but forgotten that possibility. “What would Gabriella do?” he asked. “Would she go with you?”

  “Yes. She would, though I’d hate to ask it of her. She finishes her apprenticeship at Eat Cake this spring, but June has offered to sell her part of the business. That’s really what she wants to do—stay at Eat Cake and teach some classes. But I have to play hockey where I can play hockey. She can pursue her craft somewhere else. And we aren’t going to be apart.”

  How would Merry feel? Surely the same. Love was love, and she’d said she loved him.

  Bryant parked in front of the small shop called Sparkle. “Here we are.”

  Neyland looked up when they entered. “If it’s not the Sound coming through my door.” They had first met Neyland at Nickolai and Noel’s wedding and had seen her a few times since.