Catching Zia (Spring Training Book 1)

by Becca Jameson

  She lifted a brow. “You think I’m going to wander around naked?” She shook her head. “Not really my style.”

  “Hoping to convince you to change your style.”

  He loved the way she shuddered every time he suggested something outside her comfort zone. So damn sexy.

  She leaned forward and gave him a peck on the lips. “Brett, you don’t know me at all if you think I give a shit about how glamorous or expensive your condo is. I won’t even be able to describe it in two days.”

  His cock jumped. Damn. That was hot.

  He let a slow smile spread. “Okay, then. Let’s go inside.” He released her to climb from the car while she did the same. A minute later, he opened the back door and swung his arm to indicate she should pass him. “Ladies first.” He dragged their belongings in behind her and shut the door.

  Before she had a chance to step farther into the space or comment, he grabbed her by the waist, spun her around, and flattened her to the door. One second later, he had her face cupped in both hands and tilted to one side. He lowered his lips to hers and closed his eyes to concentrate on her taste. Her scent. Everything that was Zia.

  His phone buzzed in his pocket while he kissed her. He ignored it.

  Zia whimpered into his mouth, her fingers digging into his biceps. She was the one to break the kiss and gasp for oxygen. “You suck the air out of me.”

  “Mmm. That’s the plan.” He nibbled a path across her cheek to her ear.

  She shuddered when he flicked his tongue over the lobe and then blew on it. “How does this always happen to us?” she mumbled.

  “What? Kissing?”

  “We can’t spend even one minute alone without mauling each other.”

  “I think that’s a good thing.” He met her gaze, setting his forehead against hers. Then his damn phone buzzed again. Another text.

  “You gonna check that?”

  “Nope.”

  She glanced down. “What if it’s Monica?”

  He groaned. Why did she have to be so reasonable? “Fine.” He tugged the phone out of his jeans pocket, glanced at the screen, and stuffed it back in. He certainly wasn’t interested in responding to that particular text. Not today. Not tomorrow. This weekend was his. His and Zia’s. Intrusions weren’t welcome. “Not Monica. Stop worrying.” He was the one who should be worrying. Dammit. He’d known without looking. He’d only caught a glimpse of her at the stadium as she ducked out of sight, but he’d felt her presence. She’d been there.

  It had been several months since he’d seen or heard from her. Why the hell was she texting him now? Dammit.

  Brett thumbed the button on the side of the phone to stop all notifications from ringing or buzzing silently.

  He took a deep breath, grabbed Zia’s hand, and dragged her through the condo at a rapid pace. “Living room, kitchen, bathroom, bedroom, office, master…” He tugged her into that last room and kicked the door closed. “Really not interested in the other rooms right now.”

  “Apparently.” She giggled. “I didn’t see anything.”

  “You told me in the car you wouldn’t be able to describe any of it later anyway. I’m hoping if I do my job right, that will become a reality.”

  She tipped her head back and sauntered closer until her front was against his. As she twined her arms around his neck and drew him down, she whispered, “Then I guess you better do your job right. So far I don’t even know the color of your comforter.”

  He threaded his fingers in her thick hair on both sides of her face and lowered his lips to hers again. After a quick brush of his mouth over hers, he grinned. “I think I should do everything in my power to ensure you never find out.”

  She frowned. “I thought we already established that as the plan.”

  He shook his head, feeling wicked and challenging. “Close your eyes.”

  She lowered her lashes but sucked her bottom lip in between her teeth a moment before releasing it abruptly as she must have remembered how much it drove him crazy.

  “Don’t move.” He released her, stepped backward, his gaze still pinned to her to see how she would react to being left standing in the middle of the room with her eyes closed.

  She didn’t open them, which impressed him. But she did cross her arms and rub her biceps as though chilled. Vulnerable. Nervous.

  Brett silently grabbed what he wanted from the top drawer of his dresser and returned. “I want to cover your eyes. Trust me?”

  “Yes.” The one word was breathy. Sexy as hell.

  He slid the silky tie over her head and settled it across her eyes. “There. Now you’ll never know the color of the comforter.”

  She licked her lips. “You planning to keep this on me for two full days?”

  “Maybe…”

  God. The way she swallowed… Mercy.

  Zia leaned into him. “Might make it hard for me to eat. Or bathe…”

  “I’ll figure something out.” He wrapped his hands around her waist and backed her up toward the bed. It wasn’t a king like he had in Miami, but he didn’t intend for either of them to need more space than a queen, anyway. In fact, a twin sounded appealing. He wanted her body against his.

  When the backs of her knees hit the mattress, he stopped walking and flattened his palm on her back. The sundress was gorgeous against her dark skin, but he wanted to see her body. Four days without touching her, tasting her, gazing down at her… Too damn long.

  And the season hadn’t even started.

  Maybe he could convince her to travel with him.

  He knew he was getting ahead of himself. He would keep these thoughts to himself. For now…

  But for the first time in his life—other than playing baseball—something was totally right. He wanted to grab it and make sure it didn’t get away. Not this time. He never wanted to go through what happened after the first night he slept with her. Lesson learned. Be totally forthright. Keeping shit from her wasn’t going to endear her to him. The next time it would be catastrophic.

  He shuddered for an instant, remembering the woman lingering in the shadows after the game and then spamming him with texts. Leslie. Damn her. She needed to deal with her own problems, not add to his. Should he tell Zia about her? He’d rather not waste his time with Zia discussing or dealing with Leslie. She was not his problem.

  He didn’t want his weekend ruined by anyone. Especially not Leslie. Ignoring her didn’t mean he was keeping things from Zia. They weren’t his things.

  “Brett…” The one word coming from Zia’s mouth was breathy, reminding him he was simply staring at her and had been for long moments.

  “Patience.”

  She pursed her lips, nodding. Squirming then. Shifting her weight subtly from one foot to the other.

  Brett grasped the zipper at the center of her back and eased it down to her ass. The entire dress fell forward, and as soon as he took a step backward, it dropped to pool at their feet—leaving Zia in a navy thong that matched the dress.

  “Jesus,” he muttered. “You should warn a guy before you wear something like that.”

  “You’ve seen me in less.”

  True. She’d worn a white one last time. But the navy. The dark color against her tanned skin… He grabbed her hips with both hands and lowered to his knees in front of her. The triangle of lace and silk at her apex set him off balance. He leaned in and inhaled her scent before pressing his lips to the silk. “I thought you only wore pastels.”

  “I thought it was time I made a change.” Zia grasped his head with both hands. “Brett…”

  He loved the sound of his name coming from her sweet lips. The sexy way she uttered that one syllable. It made his cock stiffer every time.

  Her fingers dug into his scalp, and he liked the pressure. But he also wanted to regain control. “I want to try some different things tonight. Okay?”

  “Like what?”

  “Clasp your hands behind your back. Let me take control.”

  She hesitated a
nd then eased her hands from his hair. Her arms shook at her sides, fingers splayed wide for several moments before she tucked them out of sight at the small of her back.

  “That’s it. Keep them there. If you move them, I’ll take that as a sign you’d rather I secured them with something.” He watched her closely as he spoke. She flinched, her mouth fell open, and then she clasped her thighs together.

  Yes.

  God yes.

  His heart pounded. He wanted her more every second. And he would take her in any way she would offer herself. Knowing she enjoyed a bit of kink was icing on the cake.

  He smoothed his hands around to the front of her thighs until his thumbs reached between them, so close to her pussy. “Spread your legs, Zia.”

  She inched them apart, but not far enough.

  “Farther. I could help you with that too. If you’d like?”

  She sucked in a sharp breath and separated her feet wider.

  His cock ached. It begged for release. No way could he continue to explore her with his dick trapped inside the denim. It was cruel.

  He released her for the second time and hauled himself to standing, inches separating them. Then he quietly removed his clothes. Everything. His shirt first while he kicked off his shoes, and then his jeans, underwear and socks.

  Did she know what he was doing?

  She would at least be curious. Uncertain.

  Off-center.

  He kneeled in front of her and set his hands on her thighs once again, intentionally not touching her with any of his torso so she wouldn’t realize with certainty that he’d removed his clothes.

  He smoothed his hands toward her center and hooked his pointers into the elastic of her thong to drag them under the triangle of barely existent material.

  She swayed toward him, his name coming from her lips on a breath.

  “Hold still, Zia. Let me explore.” Tease. He slid one finger lower to trail it between her folds. “So wet…”

  Exquisite. He lifted his face to find her head tipped back, his tie still in place. Her breasts rose high on her chest with her hands clasped behind her and her shoulders thrust back.

  No. Exquisite was too mild a term. He didn’t have the words, but he did have the heart to know she was his. Not just for today or tomorrow or next week. But forever.

  Now he just needed to make sure she was on the same page so he didn’t scare her to death with promises of a future she wasn’t ready for.

  Was she?

  She was obviously totally into him. But was she still skittish from his omission? He needed to talk to her about that. Later. After.

  He watched her face while he pressed his finger inside her warmth. When had he ever felt any woman this wet on his finger? Never. Not even Zia. She’d been on fire the previous two times they’d been together. But today was different. Was it from his increased dominance? Or had she gotten comfortable letting her guard down enough to truly enjoy herself?

  He slid his other hand around to cup her ass, squeezing and molding the soft flesh there while he eased his finger in and out of her heat. His gaze lowered from her open mouth to her breasts. Her nipples stood erect, pebbled hard. He hadn’t given them the attention they deserved.

  Releasing her butt, he reached to cup one breast and then thumb the rigid tip. She lifted onto her tiptoes and arched her chest into his touch.

  Unable to wait another moment to taste the bud, he rose onto his feet, keeping his finger buried inside her, and sucked her nipple into his mouth.

  “Jesus. Brett. Oh. My. God.”

  “Mmm,” he murmured against the tip. “You like that…”

  Suddenly he needed to be inside her. Now.

  With no warning, he released her breast with his hand to flatten it on the small of her back beneath her clasped hands. He then jerked her thong to one side and thrust his cock into her.

  She screamed out.

  Yes.

  That.

  Exactly that.

  Blindfolded and off-balance, she could do nothing but feel, and she was more than ready for him. Her slick channel easily took him in to the hilt.

  Without withdrawing, he grasped her waist and lifted her the few inches to set her butt on the edge of the bed.

  “Release your hands, baby.”

  She let them fall to her sides.

  “Lift them over your head.”

  Shaking, she did as he said while her legs wrapped around his waist and nearly made him lose the tentative grip he had on his control. He didn’t want to come yet. But, Lord, it was difficult to hold back. His brain screamed to fuck her hard and fast. His heart told him to ensure she was sated first.

  With her hands above her head, he lowered her onto the bed. “Relax. Keep your hands there. Don’t move.” He tapped her thighs. “Knees raised and spread.”

  She shivered as she released him and lifted her legs higher.

  He helped her by grasping her thighs and pressing them wider. There was no traction for her heels. She was too close to the edge of the mattress.

  The elastic of her thong rested against the side of his cock. The pressure was grounding, but he didn’t want to rub his dick against the elastic, so he reached between their bodies and gave the thin strip of lace a tug. It gave way easily. “If you were attached to that one, I’ll buy you another.”

  She gasped, her mouth closing and then opening again. “That was…”

  He feared she would say “my favorite pair of panties.”

  But instead she said, “So hot.”

  He smiled, set his palms on her breasts, molded them in both hands, pinched her nipples simultaneously, and then pulled his cock out of her tight warmth and thrust it back in.

  She arched her body off the bed and moaned.

  He was growing used to the way she arched toward him. It was part of her. It told him she was enjoying herself. Immensely.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  “Mmm… Brett?”

  “Yeah?”

  She tipped her face toward him, even though she couldn’t see through the folds of the tie. “Fuck me. Before I go insane.”

  Still pinching her nipples, he thrust in and out of her several times. When her mouth fell open again, he lowered his hands to the space where his cock nestled against her pussy. With one hand, he teased her clit. With the other, he reached under her thigh to circle the tight bud of her bottom.

  She squirmed, lifting her ass while at the same time pressing it against him as he followed her movement. “Oh. Oh. God.”

  He closed his eyes for a moment and thrust harder. Faster. Flicking her clit and then pinching it between his thumb and finger. Alternating. Gritting his teeth while he noticed every subtle change in her breathing and movement until she was right at the edge of ecstasy.

  When she stiffened completely, her ass off the bed and her teeth biting down on her lower lip, he knew she was there. “Come for me, baby. Show me.”

  She shattered beneath him while he watched her face come apart. Shudders wracked her body. She fisted her hands above her head, perhaps fighting the need to lower them.

  As she came down, he grasped both her thighs and held her steady for the last few strokes he needed to reach his own climax.

  Then he was filling her with his seed, every pulse of his cock claiming her. Drawing him deeper and deeper into the spell that was Zia Sharpley.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Zia blinked her eyes, slowly remembering where she was and what day it was.

  Brett’s temporary condo. Sunday.

  She hadn’t opened her eyes yet, but she sensed he wasn’t in the bed. When she did finally blink, it was because she heard voices. Brett’s? And whose? A woman.

  She rolled onto her back, squinting into the early morning light. How long was I asleep? She had no idea what time he’d finally removed the tie from over her eyes, surrounded her in the cocoon of his body, and stroked her hair until sleep tugged her under.

  She felt rested, but her entire body
ached deliciously. Every muscle rebelled against movement. She’d held herself stiff several times last night at his request that she not move.

  Why was his brand of sex so damn hot? Controlling but arousing. He’d been aggressive with her the other times they’d been together also, but nothing like last night. Should she be embarrassed that she found every command so titillating?

  Maybe, but why bother?

  The voices filtered into her mind again.

  Who was he talking to? She didn’t have the energy to lift off the bed yet. And she wasn’t about to wander out of the room and face whoever it was anyway. She might have stepped well out of her usual comfort zone to enter this enticing relationship with Brett Michelson, but she was not comfortable enough to do any sort of walk of shame.

  Why the hell not, though? She had nothing to be ashamed of. This wasn’t some one-night stand. She was head over heels for this man. Of course, it would seem half the women in the world were also head over heels for the second baseman for Miami. And whoever he was speaking to would almost certainly assume she had been the flavor of the night if she showed her face.

  Besides, she didn’t want to appear nosy. He had a right to his privacy. Right?

  She forced her mind to calm. She needed to trust him if this was going to work. It was unimaginable that he would do anything to jeopardize their relationship. There were so many possible reasons he could be talking to a woman in the condo. The least likely of those would be that he was also sleeping with whomever it was.

  Cleaning lady. Neighbor. Friend. Even a former lover could be at the door. It didn’t mean he was still seeing her.

  She closed her eyes and tried to relax back into the mattress, tuning out the female voice. The only thing covering her was a sheet. Not surprising since she’d been half-aware of spending the entire night pressed against Brett’s front.

  She’d never been one to snuggle before. Then again, how would she know? Honestly, she’d never spent an entire night with a man before Brett. And last night made three. Seemed like a hundred in some ways. That’s how comfortable she was with him.

  Had he really blindfolded her and commanded her to keep her hands out of reach?