Extra Innings and In His Wildest Dreams

by Debbi Rawlins

  3

  SHE WALKED RIGHT UP to him and tried to peek over the shower curtain he was holding up to himself. The woman had no shame. She also had a body that wouldn’t quit and everything else that made a man do foolish things. Even a man who was old enough to know better.

  He moved the curtain to hide his semihard cock. Even a cold shower hadn’t put him back to rights yet. “I thought you said you weren’t here to cause trouble.”

  Her alarmed gaze narrowed on his lower extremity. “I never set out to cause trouble, and yet trouble seems to find me wherever I go. Although I’m not the only one.”

  It took him a second to realize she was referring to the scar that shot three inches down his outer thigh. “Full disclosure as soon as you get your tight little ass out of here and I’m dressed.”

  “Ah, you noticed.” She glanced behind her. “I’m flattered. Pilates and yoga every other day.” With a smile tugging at her lips, she turned to hang the robe on the door hook.

  Without her heels on, she stretched and her dress hiked up, giving him a glimpse of skimpy black lace, the curve of a firm round cheek. His cock leaped. He jerked the curtain to the end of the rod and hoped like hell she wouldn’t be so bold as to pull another stunt. He waited until he heard the door close before he relaxed.

  Resigned that she wouldn’t be leaving until she was good and ready, he rinsed off the remaining soap and then snagged a towel to dry off behind the curtain. What he should’ve done was lock the damn door. She didn’t need the encouragement of seeing the state she put him in.

  In fact, he should’ve jerked off to get rid of some of the tension she’d created. Too late. He wasn’t about to turn the water back on. He had a feeling she’d know why and relish the challenge of making him hard again. Problem was, the idea didn’t sound bad to him, either.

  Shit.

  It scared the hell out of him that twice tonight he’d been tempted to kiss her. At twenty-one Tori had been too persuasive to resist. He’d rationalized that birthday kiss five ways to Sunday, but he’d been wrong then to satisfy his curiosity, and now, with her all grown up, and more tempting than ever, there was still all the reason in the world for him to keep away.

  Her being Sterling Gallagher’s daughter was grounds enough.

  He put on the same jeans and chambray shirt he’d worn from the ballpark and combed his hair. He bent forward, moved his face close to the mirror to inspect the cleft in his chin. No need to shave; he’d done that right before the game. Anyway, there was no reason, certainly not on Tori’s account. She was leaving. Right after they had a drink.

  He touched the skin at the outside corner of his right eye where lines fanned out even when he wasn’t smiling. He looked old. Too many years in the sun. He’d never given his age a thought until this season, but the reality of baseball being a young man’s game was hitting home. Especially for pitchers. A talented few played into their late thirties, even fewer into their forties. But he wasn’t out of the game, yet. In fact, he had a few good years left, especially as a closer. Then he’d move on, retiring from the Bigs on his own terms.

  Straightening, he stretched out his arm, flexed his shoulder. It hurt, but that was the price of pitching. Any fool knew that. As soon as Tori left he’d get some ice. He stilled as he realized the idea of sending her off bothered him more than the ache in his shoulder.

  TORI HEARD THE DOOR OPEN and stayed right where she was, hogging the chair, barefoot, legs crossed, one swinging absently. He’d have no choice but to sit on the bed, which was exactly where she wanted him. She smiled when she saw his gaze go to the bottle of scotch she’d found in the drawer. She’d sat the booze on the dresser along with two empty glasses.

  “I waited for you,” she said, checking out the snug fit of his jeans, and liking the way he’d rolled back his sleeves to expose his muscle-corded forearms. “You look yummy.”

  He let out a short laugh that held some surprise and shook his head.

  “Well, you do.” She watched him pour the scotch in the first glass. “Just because I’m a respectable businesswoman now doesn’t mean I’m a different person.”

  “Thank goodness,” he said with banked amusement, and passed her the drink.

  She didn’t like that he seemed stiff and wondered how much it would bother him if she suggested he ice his arm. It was a perfectly normal thing for a pitcher to do after a game, but she knew him well enough to know he would be sensitive about it, given the stakes and the timing.

  After he got his own scotch, he lifted his glass and shocked her when he smiled and said, “You look pretty yummy yourself.”

  “Really?”

  He cocked an inquiring brow.

  “I know what most guys think,” she said defensively. “But not you. Sometimes I think you never—” She promptly shut up. Did she really want to admit that she still smarted from his rejection? “Are you going to sit down or do I have to pull out all the stops?”

  He looked around, sighing wearily as he found the edge of the bed. The sound twisted her heart. She wished she could do something for him…anything.

  She took a sip, a really tiny one. Scotch wouldn’t have been her first choice. “Tell me about the scar.”

  “It’s old. About twelve years.”

  “How did it happen?”

  “I was home visiting my folks in Wyoming and went to a swimming hole with my nieces and nephews. Some genius had dumped the tail end of a roll of fencing. I’m just glad it was me that got cut and not one of the kids.”

  “I didn’t know you were from Wyoming.”

  He shrugged. “Yep, lived there until I started playing pro ball.”

  Tori let the information settle in her head. She would’ve guessed he was from a city in someplace like California or Florida. He didn’t seem like a country boy at all. Well, maybe she could kind of see him as the silent-cowboy type. “Did you grow up on a ranch?”

  He smiled. “There is more than ranching in Wyoming. My dad had a dental practice near Jackson Hole. We didn’t even own a horse.”

  “How come I didn’t know this about you?”

  “Why should you?”

  She thought for a moment. “You’re right. I was way too self-absorbed.”

  He frowned slightly, studying her as if he didn’t quite know what to make of her. But he didn’t comment, just sipped his drink, then said, “I didn’t think to ask…did you want ice? I can get you some. The machine is right down the hall.”

  “I don’t need any.” She held his gaze. “Do you? Need some ice?”

  His expression tightened. “I drink my scotch neat.”

  “What about your arm?”

  He hesitated, his face darkening. “Goddammit, Tori, what is this about? You spying for your father so he’ll cut loose your trust fund?”

  She glared at him. “You’re an ass.”

  He glared back, but then exhaled slowly and looked away.

  “You apologize for that, Perry.” She didn’t care that regret had already entered his eyes. She was so offended she wanted to hear him say it. “I mean it.”

  “You’re right. I apologize.”

  Not one to waste her advantage, she set her glass on the dresser and got up. When she crawled onto the bed, he stiffened and warily watched her, craning his neck to keep her in his sight as she moved in behind him.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” he asked.

  “Hush, I’m still mad at you.” She kneeled in line with his shoulders, placed her hands on either side of his neck and started to gently knead his tense muscles. “Tell me if I hurt you.”

  “Ouch. It hurts,” he said in a tone that told her it was a bald-faced lie. Hell, he hadn’t even tried to sound convincing.

  She stopped, sighed, then started in again, determined not to let his obstinacy get in the way of her making him feel better.

  “Tori,” he drawled her name like a warning.

  “Yes?” she replied sweetly.

  “We were just going to t
alk, remember?”

  “Hmm, actually I don’t recall that part.” She smiled at the back of his head and continued rubbing his tight shoulders. “Still hurt?”

  He didn’t say anything.

  She sighed. “You getting paranoid and making that awful accusation has made me curious.”

  “Great,” he muttered drily.

  “More than curious. I’m worried. Is something wrong with your arm?” She found a knot and used her thumbs to work it out, happy when his chin dropped a little.

  “Just the usual.”

  “Are you telling me the truth?”

  “Yep.”

  “You know I won’t tell Daddy, right? No matter what.”

  “Tori, I’m not hiding anything. I’m thirty-three. I have a thirty-three-year-old arm. It sucks, okay?”

  She swallowed, at a loss for something comforting to say. Poor recovery, slower reflexes, diminished endurance, these were age-related issues all players eventually faced. No matter, she didn’t want this for Rob. He’d once been the hottest starting pitcher the Talons ever had.

  “What? No snappy comeback?”

  “Your thirty-three year-old arm is still better than half the twenty-year-old arms in the league. And you know it.” She slid off the bed and came around in front of him. She touched his face, slipped in between his spread legs before he could shut her out and looped her arms around his neck. “Do not count yourself out of the game yet, Perry. You still have some pitching to do before next week and a poor attitude will screw you up as fast as any injury.”

  “I’m not counting myself out.” The bite in his voice stung, but it wasn’t unexpected. She knew she’d hit a tender spot.

  “Okay, then. That’s good to know. You’ve always been my favorite player, and I didn’t like to think of you letting this temporary setback mean more than it should.”

  He totally stunned her by pulling her close and resting his cheek against her chest. Her heart pounded so hard it had to hurt his ears. She smoothed his hair, kissed the top of his head. She’d longed for this moment of intimacy forever, but not like this. Tori hated to see him hurting and worried. She knew what it was like to not know what was behind the next door. All he’d known for his whole adult life had been baseball. A man like him wouldn’t adjust easily if the worst should happen.

  He lifted his head and gazed at her. His slow smile eased the heaviness in her chest. “You’re such a beauty. And you sure have grown up. If the situation were different—” he began with a shake of his head, already loosening his hold around her.

  “No.” She clamped a hand over his mouth. “Don’t you dare say it.” She let his arms fall to his sides, and then sat on his lap before he could force her away.

  His right arm automatically came up to cradle her back. With his other hand he caught her wrist and pulled her palm from his mouth. “Tori, it’s not that I—”

  She kissed him. He stayed passive, letting her do all the work. After a few seconds she got that he was simply being stubborn because he kept his lips firm no matter how much she licked and bit at him to get him to kiss her back. In a minute, she would be forced to let it go, let him go, but that just made her ache more.

  His sudden groan surprised her, excited her, and then his tongue pushed between her lips and thoroughly claimed her mouth. She tasted the scotch on his tongue, realized she liked the strong liquor much better secondhand. When he entwined his fingers in her hair, she arched toward him, surprised at the surge of want that made her so daring. She shouldn’t have been shocked. He’d been the one all the other men in her life had been measured against. And each one of them had fallen short.

  Rob had spent a lot of years being her friend, and when he could have taken advantage of her own foolishness, he’d put her welfare first. She may have wept a sea of tears that night, but over the years she’d come to realize that by saying no he’d changed from friend to champion.

  The longing grew so great she started to quiver, first in her belly, then her chest and arms. That had never happened before. Not from a kiss.

  As much as she enjoyed the exploration of his mouth, she knew she’d have to tell him what she wanted, coax him to take this to the next level. She wasn’t a kid anymore. He couldn’t use that excuse, and she wouldn’t accept one anyway because the proof that he wanted her was hard and insistent against her body.

  She rocked back slightly, swallowing his groan and sucking at his tongue when the kiss seemed to falter. His grip on her hair tightened, relaxed, tightened again, and he lifted his hips and rubbed his arousal against her.

  With effort, she evaded his mouth, turning her face, shivering when he nipped at her chin and jaw. “Rob…” She found his top button and unfastened it. “Let’s take our clothes off.”

  “Hmm…” He found that spot at the base of her throat that made her crazy, and she gasped as her head fell back.

  At the sound he started, released her hair. She took his hand and put it high on her bare thigh.

  He massaged her for a second and then abruptly drew back, looking up at her with tortured eyes. “This is wrong…a mistake.”

  “No, please.” She hated that she sounded so needy. But she couldn’t give up, not yet. “You’re wrong.”

  He gently pushed her off his lap.

  4

  “US…THIS…” HE SAID, shaking his head and pacing to the window. “It’s no good. But I’m glad you came by. I haven’t seen you in too long, and it has been—”

  She came at him and brazenly stared at the bulge in his jeans before her head tilted back, her dare-you eyes glittering in the dim light. “Has been what? Hmm? Nice getting reacquainted? Better than playing solitaire?”

  Maybe he should’ve turned away, put a stop to this with a firm goodbye, but he couldn’t tear his gaze from the fire in her face. His body let him know that his abrupt change of heart was not appreciated. That he’d wanted this—her—more than he could have ever imagined.

  “I’m waiting,” she said haughtily, the tiny crack at the end of the sentence blowing her cover to hell.

  “What am I supposed to do now?” He shook his head at the question that had no right answer. “Tori…”

  Temper flashed hotly in her blue-green eyes and she stepped in close. Too close. Her heat hit him a second before her slim body pressed against his cock just hard enough to make his brain melt and his heart hammer. He wanted to rip that pretty dress off her, give her exactly what she was asking for, but some part of him, a survival instinct he would guess, held him steady. Not that it was easy. The scent of her alone had driven him half-crazy.

  Her frustrated curse was followed by her spinning around, tossing that silky curtain of hair so it slapped his face. Instead of jerking back he leaned forward, watching her helplessly as she walked away. It only got worse when she faced him again and he failed miserably at averting his gaze from the pair of tight nipples testing the black clingy material of that barely-there dress.

  “Okay, fine. It’s risky for me to be here. I can see that. So, let’s go somewhere else. I have a rental car parked outside.”

  He pretended that he was looking at the clock behind her, then casually raised his gaze to hers. “The red Porsche.”

  She tilted her head. “How did you know?”

  “Half the kids on the team hung out the bus windows drooling over it when we pulled up.”

  She laughed and then lifted a shoulder. “Some of them will be able to buy a fleet of Porsches if they get called up. Do they know what you drive?”

  His cock had finally received the message that the thrill was gone, and Rob relaxed as he turned to glance out the window. “You don’t.”

  “Something low, flashy and sexy I’d guess.”

  “Wrong.” After playing all those years in the Majors and several multimillion-dollar contracts, yeah, he had a few bucks to his name. Most of it well invested. He was a simple guy. If everything went to hell, he could live comfortably forever. Wanting to get called back to the Talo
ns wasn’t about money. It was about his ego. His identity. He wouldn’t deny it. Wouldn’t advertise it, either.

  “So, we’ve both changed,” she said, her voice lower, calmer. “It might be…nice to get to know each other again.”

  He nodded instinctively. “We can’t be seen leaving together.”

  “Okay, I agree.” She waited expectantly. When nothing happened, the lightness that had been in her expression faded. “If it’s—” She moistened her lips and blinked away the unexpected vulnerability in her eyes. “If you don’t want my company, I’ll go.”

  “You know better.”

  She shrugged, and there was another way she’d changed. It wasn’t her hell-with-you shrug. That he’d seen on countless occasions. Despite her bravado, she was on shaky ground now that it was just them, no games. “So…?”

  What had happened to her in the six years since he’d seen her? She’d gotten educated, a degree, started a business. But Tori had been both spoiled and ignored by her father, and her mother had been mostly out of her life as far as Rob knew so she’d had little guidance. Whatever changes she’d made had been hard fought and likely done solo. Good for her.

  “As I said, we can’t leave together. Half the team is probably sitting at the bar. The minute you cross that lobby, every player is going to know you were here, and that is not gonna work.”

  She looked down at herself before she met his gaze again. “Do you think anyone would recognize me? I’ve kept my nose clean for a long time.”

  Her earnestness knocked him off guard. Without thinking, he flexed his shoulder and probed the tender joint. “If not the players, any coaches hanging out will.”

  He realized his mistake when she caught his eye and gave him a concerned smile. Hell, he could cover up his discomfort, tell her it was nothing, but why? Tori knew better. His denial would make him seem all the more pitiful.

  She headed toward the dresser where she’d left her small purse. “I can probably leave from the employee’s entrance. In fact, I know I can. Then I’ll drive to the side of the building and wait for you.”