by Sykes, V. K.
“Um, that looks painful,” she said with a choked giggle. She never giggled, but, then again, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt this giddy and excited. Maybe never.
His eyes flashed with laughter but his mouth was set in a taut line as he grabbed her hand. “Don’t worry. You’ll be taking care of that.”
They stumbled along, Taylor kicking off her shoes and trying to unbutton the rest of her blouse as he led her into a short hallway running left off the foyer and down to a bedroom. As he tugged her inside the bedroom, she vaguely registered that it was classically male—the walls a deep blue shade, the pine floor bare, the furniture dark and heavy, and no extra pillows on the king-sized bed covered with a simple navy duvet. What little light there was came from a small bedside lamp that looked like he might have picked it up at your average IKEA or Target, and which cast a dim yellow glow into the room. A huge flat screen TV rested on a console across from the bed, a collection of DVD’s stacked underneath.
Even as Ryan batted her shaking fingers out of the way and deftly took care of the remaining buttons on her shirt, Taylor couldn’t help wondering how many other women had been in that very bed. He was so sexy and so unrepentantly male that she couldn’t imagine anything but a parade of them wanting to get between his sheets. And she couldn’t believe how strongly the idea of that ripped through her, digging in with nasty, green-tipped claws. For just a second it had her mentally tripping and coming up short.
Fortunately, Ryan banished that unwelcome thought from her head by unhooking the front clasp of her bra and easing it open.
They stood at the foot of his bed, his muscular body looming over her, only inches apart from each other but not touching. They studied each other, both of them breathing in erratic rhythms that somehow still managed to mirror each other. Finally, his big hand came up to gently cup her breast. The contrast of his tanned, long fingers, hard and masculine on her creamy plump flesh, made her insides clench with longing. She ached for his hands and his tongue to caress her, to reach deep inside and touch every hidden part of her.
And Ryan looked like he wanted to devour her, his dark eyes glittering with an almost feverish desire and something more, something that made her heart beat just that much faster. Any lingering hesitations she’d been harboring vanished in an instant, and she reached for his belt buckle, yanking it open.
He ignored her efforts to undress him, too caught up in his worship of her body. “God, you’re beautiful,” he breathed as he skimmed both hands along her sides and to her back, briefly reaching down to cup her bottom before returning to settle possessively on her breasts. His voice was low and heavy with emotion. “Feels like I’ve been waiting forever for you.”
When he gave both nipples a little tug, Taylor sucked in a gasp as the heat shot straight to the juncture of her thighs, turning her incredibly soft and damp. “Too many clothes,” she moaned, pulling his zipper down. She snaked her hands down the front of his jeans and under his boxers to grasp the thick knob of his cock. Her fingers trailed down his long, smooth shaft. She swallowed, both entranced by the size and by how hot and hard he was under her cool hands.
Okay, and maybe the size of him was just a wee bit intimidating, but she had a pretty good sense that Ryan would do everything necessary to deal with that. Taylor was pretty sure that would be a lot of fun, too.
Ryan let her play with him for a minute or two—which got them both incredibly hot—then he pushed her gently down onto the duvet. Her skirt bunched up around her thighs as she squirmed up to the pillows, and her shirt and bra were wide open, fully exposing her to his avid gaze. Although Taylor knew she had a nice body, she’d never been one to parade herself around in front of any guy she dated—probably a natural result of having to obliterate her own sexuality as much as possible on the job. But with Ryan, she didn’t feel the least bit inclined to hide. She felt…free. In fact, she wanted nothing more than for him to strip her as quickly as he could, eliminating all barriers between them.
Impatiently, she startled to struggle out of her skirt.
Ryan took the hint, hooking his fingers into the waistband and slowly easing it down. With her narrow hips and the soft, loose cut of the skirt, it came off easily and he tossed it on an armchair behind him.
When Taylor lifted herself a little in an invitation to strip off her tiny red lace panties in the same way, he shook his head. “No way, gorgeous. Not so fast. I want to enjoy this sweet little treat.” As if to torture her, he let his fingers skim along the lacy edge of the material, tugging on the red bow in front.
Oh, but she wanted fast, needed fast. She knew slower and gentler would be exquisite with Ryan, but not now. Now, her body already screamed to come.
“Stop messing around,” she panted.
He glanced up and gave her a lustful grin that practically incinerated her from the inside out. “Then you shouldn’t have worn such fuckable underwear, babe. You’ll just have to wait until I’m good and ready.” His only response to her groan was a low, wicked laugh as he shucked off his jeans and tossed them in the general direction of the chair.
For a few heart-stopping seconds, Taylor studied his broad shoulders and powerful arms, sculpted chest and flat stomach. God, he was perfect, and she could probably spend many enjoyable hours just eyeing the body that baseball had made. But her gaze quickly drifted down past his trim waist to his muscular legs and the cock that strained over the top of his black boxer briefs. It made her go hot and wet just looking at it, and if she didn’t get it inside her soon, she just might explode with frustration.
That, or have an orgasm on the spot.
But Ryan clearly had something else in mind other than the fast and hard taking she thought she so desperately wanted. Instead, he reached down to grasp her hips, pulling her towards the foot of the bed. Then he fell to his knees, spread her legs wide, keeping his broad palms planted firmly on her inner thighs, and came down to her. He slid one hand up and slipped a finger inside her panties to find her wet inner lips, just as his tongue flicked the silk and lace at exactly the right spot.
“Oh, my God,” Taylor moaned, arching her back as shudders raced through her. Instinctively she tried to close her thighs against the beginnings of the contractions, but he kept her wide open.
As she arched and squirmed, Ryan followed her, his tongue dancing over the tight knot of her clit, tantalizing it through the silk and lace. The gentle abrasion of the fabric and his tongue drove her crazy. He nudged two fingers deep inside, stroking her drenched flesh in a rhythm that matched the flicks of his tongue. When she clenched her inner muscles around him, he responded with another approving growl that came from somewhere very deep inside him.
He was going to make her come before he even got her panties off. The rational part of her mind boggled at that, because Taylor had never found it easy to achieve orgasm, at least with a guy instead of on her own. It was one of the reasons she liked fast sex. She enjoyed it, but if she didn’t reach orgasm there wasn’t some long, drawn out, and ultimately disappointing session where a frustrated lover with a bruised ego tried to bring her to climax.
But she could already feel one building under Ryan’s sensual onslaught, hovering just a few licks and strokes out of reach. He must have sensed it, or felt the small, initial contractions, because he drew back and roughly yanked her panties down, tossing them to the side. With a great gasp of relief Taylor arched again to meet him as he came back down between her thighs. He pushed her right leg to the side, his tongue hard against her bud and two fingers thrust deep inside her. Overcome by a driving need to open herself to him, Taylor spread her legs wide and dug her fingers into the duvet, gripping the smooth fabric as hard as she could as the waves of pleasure built inside her in a tumbling wave.
And still it kept building. Almost frantic for release, Taylor grabbed Ryan’s head, holding him against her to increase the pressure on her sensitive, aching clit. She hadn’t even realized how much she’d wanted this—how much
she’d need it—but now she had to have it, had to go over the brink into the kind of orgasm she’d only ever dreamed about.
Ryan’s free hand went up to her breast. As he squeezed her stiff nipple, he circled his tongue around her stiff bud then sucked on it hard. A moment later, overcome by the storm of sensation, Taylor shattered. Her high, keening moan seemed to go on forever as she writhed underneath him, waves of outrageous pleasure wracking her body.
When the storm passed, she cautiously cracked open an eyelid. Ryan still knelt between her thighs, the look on his handsome face a tight, intriguing combination of hunger, frustration, and masculine satisfaction. She stretched out a limp arm and drew him up to lie beside her, throwing a leg over his hip as she snuggled into him, nuzzling from his stubbled jaw to his mouth. Taylor could taste the salt tang on his smooth, hot lips. She found the earthiness of it unbearably erotic.
“Need a little breather?” Ryan said with a glittering look that told her he was seriously hoping her answer would be no.
“The only thing I need,” Taylor managed to get out as she slid her hand down to stroke the length of his straining erection, “is to have this inside me very, very soon.”
Ryan rolled her over onto her back, but she didn’t let go for an instant. “Babe, your wish—”
“Is my command,” she finished. “I like the sound of that.” She slid her hand farther down to cup his heavy balls, which earned her a low moan.
“Condom,” he ground out, pushing himself up.
“I so appreciate a man who comes prepared.” When he rolled his eyes at her lame joke, she gave him a little grin as she wriggled further up the bed to the pillow.
Ryan reached a long arm over to the top drawer of his bedside table and lifted out a rectangular box, roughly prying it open. Taylor couldn’t repress a little stab of pleasure, both that he had an ample supply and that maybe he hadn’t had the need for a condom in a while. When he ripped open the foil packet and extracted the condom, she pulled herself into a sitting position and reached out a hand.
“Let me?” she asked breathlessly, kind of amazed at how bold she felt.
Ryan’s grin was hot, wolfish, as he handed her the rolled up latex. “Be my guest, gorgeous.”
Coming to her knees, Taylor gently balanced the condom against the head of his thick shaft. She had a moment’s brief alarm that maybe it wasn’t big enough, but the thin, lubricated latex unrolled smoothly down the full length of his erection. When she reached the base, she slipped her fingers down to gently caress his balls, which immediately tightened under her touch.
“Taylor, you keep that up and I’ll be coming right now, too,” he said with a rasp. “You don’t want that, do you?”
Hell, no.
Taylor fell back against the pillow, drawing her legs up, opening to him as Ryan climbed on top of her, easily supporting his weight with his arms. “It’s been a while, Ryan,” she said, though she was pretty sure she was ready for him, even as big as he was.
He slipped first one and then two fingers inside her, scissoring them open. A luxurious ache pulsed through her flesh, making her gasp.
“You couldn’t be more ready to be fucked, sweetheart,” he said. “I can’t wait to be inside you.” The crude, delicious language made her insides quiver with anticipation.
All systems go. I’ve wanted this since the moment he looked at me at that first batting practice. Now, it’s finally happening.
It seemed like a miracle, and Taylor had to close her eyes against the unexpected emotion. She waited for his invasion, already feeling another delicious tightening down low in her belly as he positioned the tip of his cock and began to slowly press into her. He was ever so careful, obviously mindful of her caution, and the drawn-out, burning stretch was almost agonizing in its slowness. But it also sweetly gentle and wildly erotic, the way he so thoroughly took possession.
She drew her legs up high and wide, seeking the deepest possible penetration as Ryan thrust his cock in up to the base. When she was completely filled—and, boy, did he ever fill her—there was no discomfort. In fact, it felt perfect, like it was absolutely meant to be.
When she sighed with satisfaction and draped languid arms around his neck, Ryan grinned down at her, his eyes blazing with heat.
“Christ, you’re perfect, babe. So warm and tight, so wet.” His dark head dipped and he swiped a lazy tongue across one of her breasts, then swirled it over the nipple. Every part of her body came to life, reacting to him with fierce electricity.
“So hot and beautiful,” he finally whispered as he came up to nuzzle her ear. “I’ve never felt anything so good.”
Then he started to thrust, at first slowly, but then building in a controlled speed and rhythm. Taylor arched her back, tilting her pelvis to meet him, and they fell into perfect unison as he withdrew almost to the tip and then plunged in again as deeply as he could go. With each long, sensuous stroke, the friction on her clit built higher and higher, and she found herself moaning and tossing her head from side to side, aching for release but aching for it to go on forever, too.
Ryan’s hands went to her breasts again, molding them and teasing the taut, rosy nipples with his circling thumbs. His dark eyes locked with hers as he stared down at her, breathing heavily. He was a superbly conditioned athlete, and Taylor could feel every ounce of his raw power and overwhelming masculinity. She had never felt as beautiful or desirable as she did in that moment and she shuddered at the naked intensity of the feeling.
She was nearing the edge again and, by the quickening speed of his thrusts and his low groans, Ryan clearly was, too. Taylor clenched and released her inner muscles, massaging his shaft as he stroked into her. He gasped and let go of her breasts. One big hand circled her knee and lifted her leg over his shoulder, deepening the penetration, making her cry out with surprise and pleasure. He was in total control, and she loved it.
Taylor was so, so close. The waves kept building and building, and her every sense of the outside world was gone except for the man above her—inside her, surrounding her with the force of his body and his will. She gripped the duvet again in clenched fists, straining against the fabric, her arms extended and rigid. It felt like she was going to explode.
“God, now, babe,” Ryan growled as he clenched his hands on her hips. “Come for me again.”
With one last roll of the hips, nudging hard into her clit, he stiffened and came with a long groan. Taylor bucked against him and climaxed, staring into his eyes and shaking with the intensity of her orgasm. For long seconds, Ryan hung suspended above her, his gaze burning into her.
Then he blew out a long breath and slowly, gently collapsed on top of her. “Unbelievable,” he muttered, almost as if to himself.
Taylor wrapped her arms around him and cradled him between her legs, running her fingers through his damp, mussed hair. “Unbelievably wonderful,” she whispered, holding him close.
11
AS SHE FINISHED shoving papers in her brief case and cast one more bleary gaze around her tiny, concrete-walled office, Taylor wondered if she’d ever again get a good night’s sleep. Though she’d stayed with Ryan until after two, she’d managed to resist an overwhelming temptation to spend the entire night in his bed, drifting to sleep in the strong circle of his embrace.
But even after hours of passionate love-making and three amazing orgasms that had totally blissed her out, she couldn’t bear the thought of a morning walk of shame back through the team hotel. Sure as anything, she’d have run into some player or, God help her, Dembinski himself. While she could have concocted a story about hooking up with some guy, that wasn’t the rep she wanted around the team. She didn’t hook up with guys in bars—it just wasn’t her. Besides, she’d never been a convincing liar about that sort of thing, and someone as canny as the GM would probably see right through her.
But she’d been too amped up to get much sleep, anyway. By six-thirty, already on a caffeine jag from the rotten in-room coffee, she was showere
d, packed and had already booked her ticket out of Tampa International. As her mind whirled and calculated all through the pre-dawn hours, getting the hell out of Dodge right away had felt like her best option after the events of last night and what would likely happen today.
Addled by the screwed-up combination of inadequate sleep and too much coffee, she’d headed to the stadium to wait for Dembinski to arrive. She’d left her packed suitcase outside in the rental car, and she’d already called her mother to let her know she’d be in Philly by early afternoon.
Her mom was pleased she’d be making the unexpected trip home. After all, Taylor thought with weary cynicism, Bridget believed there were never enough people to wait on her hand and foot. Her mother had perfected the art of layering guilt onto her only daughter—one who was altogether too much like the husband Bridget had spent most of her marriage resenting.
Not that Taylor was averse to using her mother as her excuse to go back to Philadelphia early, although she mentally winced that she was taking the coward’s way out—at least in the short term. But her mom did suffer from frequent flare-ups of her long-standing fibromyalgia condition, and Dembinski had always seemed sympathetic whenever she mentioned her mother’s situation.
She leaned back in her chair and sighed, rubbing her scratchy eyes and trying to think through the disaster of her current situation. Taylor had always thought of herself as courageous and tough. After all, if she hadn’t been strong and resilient she’d have never survived her father’s senseless death and her mother’s subsequent breakdown. Nor would she have been able to rise through the male-dominated ranks of baseball executives and grab a coveted AGM position by the time she was thirty. But this past week she’d been about as tough as a marshmallow, at least when it came to Ryan Locke. Somehow, what had started out as a potentially brilliant gambit to snag him from the Hornets had turned into a complicated and extremely personal hot mess—one she’d invited by convincing herself that she needed to sound him out that first evening at the Summer Moon.
