by Roz Lee
Dropping to one elbow, he reached beneath her and found her clit. She made an unintelligible sound, bucked her hips like a mare in heat, then she imploded.
“Ah, Jeeezusss,” he cried as her ass tightened around his cock in erratic waves. It was all he could do to remain still, to let her experience every bit of pleasure.
When she lay beneath him, panting but relaxed, he pushed back up so his hands were braced on either side of her then with a few quick, forceful thrusts, he found his own release.
Chapter Seventeen
“That’s what you feel when…with Sean?” Still inside her, he’d rolled so his back was to the sofa, pulling her back tight against his front. Staring sightless at the empty fireplace across the room, she pressed her hand over his where it rested against her stomach, stroking lazy circles. Still intimately connected, she felt at peace in his arms.
“I suppose. I love being with you. I always feel like a conquering hero when I make you come. God knows you steal my sanity when I come, but being with Sean…. It’s different. He’s my equal, physically, so fucking him, having him submit to me—me submitting to him…it’s different, but the same, I guess.”
“I think I understand. I’ve never felt closer to you than I did, than I do now.”
“I know. There’s so much trust involved in giving someone that kind of power over your body.”
His cock softened. He slipped out of her. She wiggled her ass closer to his groin, reluctant to give up the connection.
“I can’t do it again for a while, babe,” he said, nibbling on her ear lobe.
“It’s like I can’t get close enough to you. I’m not horny, just…needy, I guess.”
“Mmm. I know the feeling.”
“You do?”
“Sure. I’ve felt it with you before, and with Sean, especially after a particularly satisfying orgasm. It’s like you’ve given the other person a part of yourself you can’t get back, but if you can get close enough, you’ll feel whole again.”
“That’s it. That’s how I feel.” Who knew her baseball player was a poet? “You should write that down.”
“I don’t think so. I already have a gay lover and a straight fiancée. The last thing I need is for someone to run across my sappy writings when I’m gone and start calling me a romantic or something.”
“You are a romantic.”
“No. Just a stupid fuck who’s in love with two people.”
“What are we going to do, Bent?”
“About Sean? I don’t know. Putting pressure on him right now about our relationship won’t do.”
“You need to get back to the hospital.”
“I do.” He pushed up so he was sitting on one hip behind her. “You okay with that?”
“I am. Sean needs you.”
* * *
“What do you mean, he doesn’t want me here?”
Siobhan Flannery had his arm in a chokehold, dragging him toward the elevator. He had no choice but to go along or cause a scene in the middle of the busy hospital corridor.
“I’m just doing what my brother asked me to do. He said to tell you to leave if you came back.”
Bentley dug his heels in, tugging his arm loose. This was unbelievable. “Why?”
“I don’t know, but he said to tell you the things he said before the game…he meant them. Nothing has changed for him.”
“Fuck.” Setting his hands on his hips, Bent stared at the floor.
“I’m sorry. If it’s any consolation, I think he loves you, but it sounds like your relationship has been a roller coaster. He doesn’t need the turmoil right now. Getting back on his feet is all he can handle for the time being.”
He looked at her again. Her eyes, so much like Sean’s, gazed at him with pity. “The roller coaster has come to a stop,” he said, his voice laced with steel. “I know he needs to concentrate on his recovery, and I have no intention of rocking the boat. I want…I need to be there for him.”
She shook her head. “He doesn’t want you there. I know he’s being stubborn, but he’s hurting—not just physically. He’s facing the real possibility he’s never going to be able to play baseball again, Bent. I can’t imagine what that’s like for him. It’s been his life since he was a kid. I don’t think he even wants me around, but he has little choice in the matter. He knows he can’t manage the physical therapy by himself, at least not for a long time, so he’s willing to let me stay.”
“He’s being stubborn.”
Siobhan smiled. “He excels at stubborn.” Her smile faded. “Give him some time. I’ll talk to him after the surgery. When he has a better idea of what his limitations are going to be I’ll try to convince him to see you.”
He hated her logic, but she was right. Her brother had made up his mind, and there wasn’t going to be any changing it. “When’s the surgery?”
“Tomorrow morning. Six a.m.”
“I’ll be here.” He’d already told the Mustangs he wasn’t traveling with them to Los Angeles. They hadn’t liked it, but had agreed to take him out of the lineup for one day. “No need to tell him. Besides, someone needs to hold your hand through it. And what Sean doesn’t know, won’t hurt him.”
“I appreciate it, Bentley. I’ll be grateful for the company.” She cocked her head to one side then smiled at him. “Besides, technically you won’t be here for him—you’ll be here for me. Right?”
“Right.” He smiled back.
Bentley was at the hospital early. Siobhan met him in the waiting room after they’d wheeled her brother off to the operating room.
“Thanks for coming,” she said, walking into his outstretched arms.
“No need for you to suffer just because Sean is being an ass.”
She broke away from him, swiping her fingertips over her cheek to capture a rogue tear. “I know he’s going to be all right. His surgeon is the best, but still….”
“It’s nerve-wracking,” he finished for her. “It’s going to be hours. There’s nothing we can do here, so why don’t we go find some breakfast and coffee that isn’t made with ground up asphalt? There’s a place on the next block I know.”
She looked around at the dingy waiting room and the smattering of others somberly awaiting news. If there was a more depressing place on earth, he had no idea where it was. “Okay,” she said. “Anything is better than here.”
“How was he this morning?” he asked once they were seated at a booth along the back wall of a popular breakfast place.
“Better, I think. He had a good night, thanks to the heavier meds they gave him.”
“I understand if you don’t want to answer, but I was wondering if the doctors have said anything more about his chances of playing again.”
She opened her mouth to speak, but their waitress chose then to appear with coffee and menus. They took a few minutes to savor the hot liquid while they made their selections.
“To answer your question, no. They haven’t said any more, to me or to Sean. The consensus is, he could make it back if the surgery goes well, and if he plays nice with the physical therapist they’ve assigned to him.”
“The standard bullshit,” he said. “How did he do with the PT the last time he injured his hip? Did he cooperate then?”
“For the most part. I stayed with him a few months then, too. He wasn’t what I would call a model patient, but he was motivated. He wanted to get back into playing condition.”
There was something in her voice that put him on alert, but their waitress was back, and he was forced to hold his question until she’d taken their order.
“Is he motivated now?” he asked as soon as they were alone again.
“I don’t know, Bentley, I really don’t. Last time, all he could talk about, even before the surgery, was when and how he was going to get back in the game. This time…he hasn’t said a word. I have no idea what he’s thinking.”
He took a sip of his coffee then rested his forearms on the table, cradling the warm mug in his hands. “Do you think he migh
t have given up?”
“On playing? I honestly don’t know.” She straightened her silverware. “I don’t know what he would do if he didn’t play. It’s all he’s ever wanted to do.”
“I know the feeling. The idea of retiring scares me to death. I don’t know what I’ll do with myself when the time comes.”
“I’m sure you’ll find something. I suspect money won’t be an issue for you, so you can do anything you want, or nothing at all.”
He’d been fortunate, and he knew it. His contracts had gotten bigger with each renewal, and he’d made some good investments. “I won’t starve in my later years,” he said. “Sean hasn’t done as well, has he?”
“He isn’t in the poor house, but I suspect he isn’t in your league either. If he doesn’t play again, he’ll need some kind of income to supplement the investments he’s made over the years.”
“I want to see him play again. He was having one of his best seasons ever—if not the best—this year.”
“I know. He was proud of himself. He said he was doing pretty good for a washed up cripple.” She smiled. “I tried to tell him he wasn’t either, but I’m afraid it’s the way he’s seen himself for the last few years.”
Guilt dropped like a ball of lead into his stomach. “I should have been there for him,” he said, keeping his gaze focused on his cooling coffee. “But I wasn’t. I don’t know if he told you, but I hurt him when I asked to be traded from the Pioneers. If I’d stayed…confronted my feelings for him then…. Maybe things would have been different for him.”
“Bentley, you aren’t responsible for anything that’s happened to Sean. He’s had some bad breaks, pardon the pun, but they come with the game. How he deals with them is all on him.”
“This is killing me. I finally found my balls—” He glanced up apologetically. “—and he won’t let me help him.”
Their food arrived, and they ate in silence. Bentley paid the check then ushered Siobhan out to the sidewalk.
“I’ve got to go to L.A. tomorrow. I pulled some strings and bought myself a twenty-four hour reprieve, but if I’m not on the field tomorrow I could be in serious trouble.”
“I’m glad you’re here today. I’ll be sure to tell the Mustangs how much it meant to me the first chance I get. Even if Sean did say he didn’t want you here, I know he would be grateful for your support.”
They walked the block back to the hospital where a quick check at the desk confirmed there was still no news on their patient.
“Do you have a place to stay while you’re here?” he asked.
“I was going to stay with Sean, but he doesn’t have any place to go when he gets out of here.” She shook her head. “He’s been living in a monthly hotel. I got his things for him yesterday, but I don’t know what I’m going to do when he gets out of the hospital. I guess I’ll have to find a place to rent.”
“You can both stay at my place. I offered my pool house to Sean a few weeks ago, but he wouldn’t take it. I doubt he’ll change his mind, but it’s perfect for him. One story, easy access for someone on crutches. I’ve got more bedrooms in the main house than I know what to do with. You’re welcome to stay there.”
“That’s very generous of you.”
“Like I said, he probably won’t hear of it, but if he doesn’t want it, it’s there for you. You can tell him I won’t bother him. He won’t even see me. Hell, I’m never home anyway.”
“Thanks,” she said. “It sounds like a perfect solution to the problem. Can I let you know?”
“Sure.” He made sure she had his phone number. “Write these down, too,” he said, rattling off Ashley’s cell and work numbers. “Ashley is my fiancée. She isn’t at the house much either, but feel free to call her anytime. She’ll be happy to help with anything you need.”
“You really do have a fiancée.” The surprise in her voice took him back a notch.
“Sean didn’t tell you?”
“Yes. He mentioned it, but I didn’t think he was serious.”
“Yeah, well…he was serious. It’s one of the things complicating our situation.”
“I bet it is,” she said.
“Anyway, you’ll love her, she’s fabulous.” He couldn’t help remembering how she’d encouraged him to do what he could for Sean. The three of them were going to be happy together—eventually. He couldn’t imagine it any other way. “Whatever you or Sean need while I’m out of town, just ask. She’ll be there for you.”
“She knows?”
“About me and Sean? Yeah. I’ve managed to screw up quite a few lives, but I’m going to fix every last one of them or die trying.”
“This is beginning to sound like a very bad romance novel,” she said, staring at the phone numbers she’d written down.
“Romance novels all have happy endings, don’t they?”
“Yes, they do.”
“Then I’m okay with bad. I can live with it as long as it doesn’t turn into a tragedy instead.” And if Sean doesn’t get his head out of his ass, that’s exactly what it’s going to be.
* * *
Sean stared out the windshield at the familiar and unwelcome sight of Bentley Randolph’s pool house. He’d argued his way out of a twenty-four/seven stay in a rehab facility partly because his sister had sworn he would have the best of everything in the house she’d rented for him. He’d been so damned grateful for her support he hadn’t thought to question where their new digs were.
“You’ve lost your mind if you think I’m going in there.”
Siobhan turned the key, and the air conditioner died along with the engine. “Suit yourself, big brother.” She opened the door then reached behind his seat for her purse. “I’m going in where it’s cool. If you change your mind, honk the horn. ”
“Siobhan! Get your ass back here!” Damn her hide. She didn’t even look back. He watched her disappear around the winding walk leading to the side-facing front door.
“Siobhan!” He jerked his door open, leaning out to yell at her again. A wall of heat slapped him in the face, and he cursed under his breath.
What the hell am I going to do now? Damn her meddling hide.
He sat, a helpless captive, trying to come up with a solution. If he’d taken the initiative and found a place to rent when he first arrived in Dallas, he wouldn’t be in his present situation. Hell, he’d had multiple opportunities to get a place but had passed on every one because he knew deep down he couldn’t live in the same city with Bentley for long. Dallas was a temporary stop or his last stop.
He’d never known which until he’d woken up in the hospital.
Last stop, Flannery. Toot! Toot! Everybody off! End of the line!
End of the line.
He scrubbed a palm over his face, looked at the red brick structure before him, and mentally catalogued his piss-poor options.
He could sit there until he died of heat stroke or he could honk the horn to get his sister back out there. Maybe once she was out of the house, he could convince her to take him somewhere else. Hell, even the rehab facility was an option now. Anything was better than Bentley’s pool house.
The horn grated on his ears, but he kept honking until Siobhan appeared. She looked like a pissed off teenager in her jeans and pink T-shirt with her long main of dark hair pulled into a high ponytail.
“Enough! I heard you,” she said, jerking his door open. With one hand on the top of the door, she leaned down to glare at him. “Have you come to your senses?”
“Take me to the rehab hellhole.”
“No.” She started to leave.
He grabbed her wrist to stop her. “Sis, please.”
“No.” Her tone was softer, but the single syllable held all the conciliation of a mules’ bray. She wasn’t going to back down.
“I hate you.”
“No you don’t,” she said. “I tried to find another place, Sean. You have some special needs right now, and I didn’t want to sign a long-term lease on anything. I didn’t have man
y choices. When it got right down to it, the pool house was the best thing I could find. Bentley swore to me he wouldn’t bother you.”
He stared through the windshield, unwelcome memories flooding back. “I don’t want to be here,” he said though his gut told him he didn’t have a choice.
“I know. I promise it’s just until you get on your feet. We’ll make other arrangements as soon as possible, but for now, this will have to do.”
“Fuck.”
“I’ll take your eloquent utterance as agreement. Hang on,” she said. “I’ll get the walker out of the trunk.”
She trailed along behind him, one excruciatingly slow step at a time until he crossed the pool house’s low threshold. It took a second to figure out what was different, but then the change registered. Someone had removed a few of the larger chairs in the living area and rearranged the furniture, to make it easier for him to get around.
“Where to?” his sister asked. “Here or the bedroom?”
“Here’s fine.” He propelled himself to the sofa. It took some doing, but he managed to sit without ending up on the floor.
“Can I get you anything?”
“No,” he grumbled, reaching for the television remote control.
“At least let me get you an ice pack. The doctor said—”
“I know what he said. I was there, remember?”
“Don’t yell at me!” She stalked to the kitchen. For the next few minutes, the rattle of ice cubes almost covered her pissed off mutterings.
He knew he shouldn’t take his frustrations out on his sister, but she was the only human around, so she had taken the brunt of it since his surgery.
“I’m sorry,” he said when she came back in the room, ice pack and a cold soda in hand.
“Here.” She handed him the pack wrapped in a dishtowel then set the soda on the end table where he could reach it. Without ceremony, she hauled an ottoman around the coffee table, placed it in front of him, and helped him raise his injured leg. He positioned the ice pack against his hip.
“Do you need anything else?”
She wasn’t ready to forgive him for being an ungrateful ass, but she would. Siobhan had never been able to hold a grudge where he was concerned.
