Dan Alexander, Pitcher

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Dan Alexander, Pitcher Page 10

by Jean C. Joachim


  “This is beautiful,” Holly said, strolling forward to take in the view.

  “Thanks. Want something to drink?”

  “Maybe a ginger ale, if you have it.”

  “No booze?”

  “Are you trying to get me drunk and seduce me?” She shot him a flirtatious glance.

  He came up behind her, snaking one arm all the way around her waist. “Do I need to?” He nuzzled her neck.

  She laughed. “No.”

  He let go and disappeared into the kitchen. Holly loved the lights across the river in New Jersey. Below, she saw street lamps lighting up Inwood Park. Just to the north was the stadium.

  “No ginger ale. Will Seven-Up do?” he called out.

  “That’s fine.”

  A moment later, he appeared with her beverage in a tall, frosty glass with plenty of ice. She sipped. No way would she cloud this experience with too much alcohol. She needed to be totally present for the best night of her life.

  “What are you drinking?”

  “Coke.”

  She liked that he wasn’t boozing it up, either.

  “Now, for the real dessert I’ve been waiting for,” he said, taking their drinks and putting them down on the table.

  He took her in his arms, his mouth seeking hers. A thrill started in her lips and traveled south quickly. She opened, and his tongue explored. A soft moan escaped her. It had been a long time since a man had made love to her.

  She clutched his shoulders as his hands slid down to cup her rear, pulling her against him. Hunger grew in her as his tongue danced with hers. She tightened her grip, and arched her back, pushing her breasts into his chest.

  “Oh, baby,” he muttered, raising his head. His hazel eyes, heavy with desire, stared into hers. “I don’t want to rush you.”

  “You’re not.”

  “You’re not a journalist, are you?” A bead of sweat broke out on his brow.

  She laughed. “Trying to do a sneaky story on you? No. No, I’m not.”

  “Just checking,” he said, as his mouth came down on hers again.

  Chapter Eight

  His grin widened. She cupped his cheek then combed her fingers through his hair. She licked her lips, and he got the hint. His kiss was possessive this time. His hand eased up her rib cage, giving her plenty of time to say “no” or stop him. She grew impatient with his cautious approach. But she figured that since he was a famous athlete, he needed to protect himself against false accusations of rape and sexual abuse.

  When his hand closed over her breast, fire started inside her. She drew her head back.

  “Do I need to sign a consent form, or are we good?”

  He laughed, picked her up, and carried her into his bedroom, kicking the door shut behind them. His bed, a king-size, had a black spread with gold pillows. He put her feet back on the floor and claimed her with his mouth. His one hand massaged her breast while the other fumbled around her back until his fingers found her zipper.

  She rested her palms on his pecs and pressed her hips against his, just in case he needed encouragement. They had been dancing around this for weeks. Need boiled up in her loins. Moving his hand to her knee, he lifted her leg, resting it on his hip. His hand rubbed the back of her thigh and slid up to cup her ass.

  He had made some progress unfastening her dress. Air cooled the skin bared between her shoulder blades. The bodice loosened. A few more inches and she could let it fall to the floor. Her fingers found the buttons of his shirt. He let her yank his tie loose then dropped her leg so he could toss it on a chair. By then, Holly had his shirt unbuttoned. He took it off and ripped his T-shirt over his head. Both ended up keeping his other attire company.

  “Your turn.”

  She barely heard him. Her attention rested on his bare chest. Magnificent was the word that came to mind. A light coating of dark hair covered his pecs. She slid her hands across the hard flesh, pressing her fingers in a bit to test the firmness. He was like a rock. She leaned forward and placed kisses there. A shudder bolted through him.

  “The dress. It’s pretty. Now, take it off,” he said, opening the back all the way. The silver garment landed in a puddle on the floor, and she stepped out of it, kicking off her high heels too.

  “Wow! Amazing. Sooo nice,” he said, his gaze taking in the pink bra, pink panties, and everything between.

  Holly unzipped his pants. “The rest is yours,” she said.

  He whipped open his belt and his pants were on the floor before she could blink. He wore plaid boxers. When she lowered her gaze, she spied evidence of his desire. She licked her lips.

  “You’re behind,” he said, reaching behind her and unhooking her bra. It fell to her elbows, and she straightened her arms to let it go all the way. He whistled low as he stared at her breasts. They weren’t huge, but well-rounded. She had always been proud of them.

  “Gorgeous,” he said, moving in to close his hands around them. He ran his thumbs over the peaks, sending a shock through her. Dipping her fingers underneath the waistband of his boxers, she cupped her hands over his butt. It was perfect. He looked like a model, a guy on a calendar, and he was all hers—at least for tonight.

  He snickered, putting his leg between hers and bringing his knee up against her sex. Lowering his head, he licked one nipple while his fingers rolled the other. He increased the pressure of his knee until she groaned.

  “Good?” he whispered.

  “Uh, yeah.”

  Turning sideways, she moved her hand around to the front and grabbed his shaft. He started at the direct contact then moaned into her chest. He pushed her breasts against his cheeks, muttering her name. Holly raised her leg and hooked it around his waist. He slid his hand between her thighs.

  “Baby,” he said.

  She knew she was wet. He rubbed his long, middle finger down her slit before ringing the elastic panty leg and dipping under. He caressed her, looking for her sensitive spot. Obviously an experienced lover, he found it quickly and pressed then circled with the tip of his finger.

  The intensity of the heat in her body threw her concentration. She lost her balance. He caught her with one, strong arm and crushed her to him. To regain her footing, Holly wrapped her hand around his impressive biceps. She stretched up to suck on his neck while her other hand found his dick.

  “That’s it. Stop for a sec.”

  He stepped back, hooking his thumbs in the sides of her panties and jerking them down. She stepped out of the bikinis then pushed his boxers down. He shucked them. They stood toe-to-toe, stark naked, staring at each other.

  “You’re a work of art,” he said, his gaze heating her skin.

  She watched a blush move up from her belly to cover her breasts.

  “Not getting shy on me, are you?”

  She shook her head, but that was a lie.

  His big hands circled her waist. “Come on. Lie down.” He ripped the covers back and gestured with a sweep of his arm for her to get in first.

  She slid across the cool, cotton sheets then turned, watching him follow.

  “Are you protected?” he asked, sliding one arm underneath her, pulling her to him.

  “No. Sorry. It’s been a really long time.”

  “I’m the first in a long time?”

  She nodded.

  “Good.” With his free hand, he opened the nightstand drawer and pulled out a condom.

  She buried her face in his chest. He kissed up and down her neck as he slipped his hand between her thighs. Cupping her for a moment, he slid a finger up and down her slippery flesh before he inserted it. She bucked her hips, tossing her head back to make eye contact.

  “Do it.”

  “No rush here. We have all night, don’t we?”

  “I want you.”

  He chuckled. “Good, but no hurry, you first.”

  She laughed at the twinkle in his eyes. He bore down, creating a rhythm with his hand while he sucked on her peak. Holly tried to hold back, tried to resist, but he wa
s relentless. Finally, the pressure reached the breaking point as need spiraled up and up, until it burst through with the biggest orgasm she’d ever experienced. She called out his name as she squeezed her eyes shut. He didn’t stop, but kept pumping until she lay back, exhausted and too sensitive to the touch. Gently, she removed his hand. He looked up as she opened.

  “You’re one hot lady,” he said.

  “You’re one hot man,” she replied.

  * * * *

  Dan feasted his eyes on the bare body of Holly Merrill. She lay stretched out on the bed, striking the sexiest pose, like from a men’s magazine. He’d fantasized about her and was pleased to see the reality had left his imagination in the dust. Her skin was rosy, and her nipples the perfect shade of dark pink. His fingers trembled a bit as he ripped the foil on the condom packet. That surprised him. He hadn’t been nervous in bed with a woman for years and had no clue why he would be now.

  Her muskiness mixed with a fresh smell, maybe a shampoo or conditioner? Could it simply be the sweet scent of her skin? Her short hair, fanned out against the white pillow case, appeared darker and silkier. Her lips were slightly swollen and must be naturally pink, as her lipstick had worn off. She was the most beautiful woman he’d seen in ages. There was something fresh about her, unused, almost virginal.

  Maybe it was because she hadn’t had sex in a long time. Or was it the way she looked at him. A light, a glow in her eyes—was it love he saw? The gleam didn’t resemble Valerie’s hard look. Her demanding attitude sometimes deflated his erection. But with Holly, her stare made it stronger, harder. As he rolled the protection on, he marveled to himself that he was like steel.

  He wasn’t in this for love. He was in it for companionship and sex. He had a lot of career to deal with before he got goofy. Holly brought out a different side of him. She was vulnerable in a way he hadn’t seen before. Not in a dependent, whiny way, but in a basic, keep-me-safe kind of way. He chuckled to think of himself as a protector, something he’d played at as a child. Superman had been his biggest hero.

  He could hardly wait to get inside her. The fantasy of making it with the Hot Dog Girl had been fueling his wet dreams for weeks. It was about to become a reality. But she was no longer the “Hot Dog Girl.” Now, she was sweet Holly Merrill, sophisticated, Park Avenue beauty, who spoke fluent French and had a ton of class, cranking the turn-on up about a hundred more notches. Every nerve in his body was alive and ready.

  Her fingertips touched his forearm, sending chills through him.

  He arranged her legs the way he wanted then leaned down to kiss her. He rubbed himself up and down her slit and eased in gently. If it had been a long time, she might be very tight, an idea that excited him further. She took him with a gasp, her eyes wide.

  “Too much? You okay?”

  “Don’t stop.” Her gaze connected with his. Her clear blues clouded with passion.

  He pushed up slowly all the way. She was so tight he thought he’d come in about two seconds. She leaned forward and kissed him. The most sultry, sexy kiss he’d ever had. It was then he knew there was no way this would be a one-night stand.

  He drank the sweetness of her soul from her mouth while he pounded into her. She wrapped her legs around him, riding along with his rhythm. He grunted, his fingers cupping her head, feeling her soft locks. Sweat broke out on his chest and forehead. He flattened his palm on her rear, holding her against him as he thrust in and out.

  “Damn, damn, damn!” she chanted, her voice getting louder with each word.

  “Come, honey. Come for me,” he whispered.

  As if he’d flipped a switch, her eyes drifted shut, and her lips parted and froze, as her hips moved steadily under him. He’d never seen anything like it. His balls tightened and release grabbed him, stealing his breath and sending pleasure rocketing through his veins. Panting, he collapsed on her.

  “Hey!”

  “Oops. Sorry. Sorry,” he said, lifting his weight and supporting it on his elbows.

  She stroked her fingers across his brow and down his rough cheek. “That was amazing.”

  “Yeah. Me too.” He stared down at her, basking in the loving look written all over her face. He’d never seen that before. After losing women to cheating when he was on the road, he’d become way too cautious. Not putting his heart on the line was much easier than becoming an emotional punching bag. Who could take his crazy schedule? Road trips as long as two weeks, many times over a season. No woman wants to commit to a man who’s never there.

  But this was different. He blinked to be sure it was real, not a dream or a fantasy.

  “Hey, sexy man,” she murmured, twirling his hair with her fingers.

  He focused on her lips.

  “Do you make love like that to every woman?”

  He sensed a blush steal into his face. He wanted to tell her he’d always been that incredible. But he’d been a terrible liar since he was born, so the truth spilled out before he could catch it. “There’s a first time for everything, I guess.”

  “Wow. Just wow.”

  He grinned. Nothing like a satisfied woman to shoot a man’s ego up a thousand points. He pushed up and rested back on his haunches, studying her. “Thirsty?” he asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “Be right back.” He retrieved their drinks from the living room and rejoined her. Joy surged through his veins. If he’d just pitched a shut-out, he couldn’t have been happier.

  She took a sip, glancing at him over the rim of her glass. Her loving look had been replaced by a wary one. She put the drink down and reached for her dress.

  He closed his hand over her wrist. “Stay.”

  “It’s late.”

  “Stay the night.”

  “I can’t. They’ll be expecting me.”

  Dan picked up her phone. “Call Bud. Tell him you’re not coming home.”

  She arched an eyebrow. “Do you always get what you want with women?”

  “I never get what I want with women.”

  She laughed. “I find that hard to believe.”

  “You mean sex? Yeah. Sure. I can get almost any chick in a bar to have sex with me. That gets old, fast. That’s not it for me. Not tonight.”

  The wariness dropped from her expression for a moment. She peered at him. “You mean it’s me? It’s me you want to spend the night with?”

  He nodded. “Exactly.”

  Her face crumpled right before him. She put her hand over her eyes, but couldn’t hide the tears.

  Shit. Fuck. What did I do? “Hey, hey. Come on. Don’t do that. What did I say?”

  She struggled for control, but it was almost a full minute before she answered him.

  He inched closer, his hand reaching around to rub her back. “Easy, honey. Easy.”

  She fell into his shoulder, wrapping her arms around him. Her soft sobs reverberated against his chest. Dan stroked her head and back, enjoying the feel of her soft skin and hair.

  “What’s the matter? What did I say?”

  “Nothing. Nothing. I’m an idiot. Forget this. Please. Will you?”

  He gripped her upper arms and eased her back. Her tear-stained face was pathetically sweet, sad and adorable. “How can I?”

  “You didn’t do anything.” She moved away from him to pick up her drink, keeping her back to him.

  “That’s hard to believe.”

  “It’s something that’s been inside me for a while. A kind of sadness. You know? Loneliness maybe. You made me feel good.” She gave a rueful laugh. “I know that sounds crazy. But you made me feel wanted. I haven’t felt that in a long time.” She sniffed and reached for the tissue box on his nightstand.

  He took her in his arms again. “You are wanted. Won’t you stay?”

  She picked up her cell and dialed. “Nancy? It’s me. I’m staying at Dan’s tonight. You okay with that? Good. Yeah. A wonderful time. See you tomorrow. Thanks.” She put the phone down. “Would you hold me? Just for a little bit?”

 
He lay back against the pillows and drew her to him. When she was comfortably settled into his shoulder, with her hand on his chest, he pulled up the blanket and kissed the top of her head. Whatever had happened to her, it must have been pretty bad. He sighed.

  Her breathing evened off. Before he knew it, she was asleep. He grinned, doused the light, and closed his eyes too. They slept until three, when he awoke to her mouth on his shaft. His eyes flew open. Nope, this was no dream.

  “Nice way to wake up, right?” she said.

  He could only nod. He let her work, captivating him, pulling him under her spell, paralyzed by desire and unable to move. Against his will, he stopped her in time, so he could return the favor. Settling himself between her thighs, he had her screaming for him within minutes. Then, he took her again with passion and energy.

  Sated, Dan curled himself around Holly. She emitted a low sound, like a purr, as he clasped her firmly to him. She wrapped her fingers around his forearm and snuggled closer. They slept tangled up together until sunrise brightened the room.

  Her warm body next to his got his blood pumping. He ran his palm down her arm, and she rolled onto her back. After slipping the sheet down to uncover her breasts, he stared at her beauty before he touched.

  This time, he made love to Holly more slowly. When he finished, he settled on his side and slid his hand down her chest. Falling back on her pillow, Holly blew a few locks off her face.

  “You’re amazing,” she muttered, turning toward him.

  “They say athletes do it better. Not sure about that, but what we lack in expertise, we make up for in stamina.”

  She nestled into him, resting her cheek on his chest, and fell back to sleep to the beating of his heart.

  * * * *

  One day turned into two. When she returned to the Magee’s, two days later, Holly hurried into her uniform and almost ran all the way to the stadium. The slight tenderness between her legs reminded her of Dan’s passion. He was pitching, and she couldn’t wait to cheer for him. With a smile as broad as the Grand Canyon, she grabbed her cart and loaded up supplies.

 

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