by Selena Kitt
She couldn’t move. Couldn’t think. Didn’t want to be in control, because with much more of what he was doing, she was going to be useless, anyway.
“Come on, Edy,” he chuckled. “Do some work. Back up that smart-ass mouth of yours with some actions.”
Damn. Leaning backward, she pressed her palms to the covers and tossed back her head as she rode him slowly, savoring every inch of length and girth. He filled her up and set her nerves to tingling without even moving.
“Lean this way,” he said. “Let me touch you.”
She moved one hand and then the other to the sides of his chest and immediately, he pressed his hands to her breasts—kneading, stroking, owning.
He plucked and tugged at her nipples, and a daring smirk pulled at his lips.
Rocking her sex against him, she bent and pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, punishing him for his smugness, and delighting in it at the same time.
He wanted her. She’d tried to push him away and keep him from getting under her skin, but her resistance was for naught. As much as she wanted him, she wanted to be wanted by him, too.
“Edy,” he whispered, his fingers digging into the meat of her ass. “Come on, baby. Make me come.”
“What about me?”
“You’re a smart lady.” He thrust into her, the forceful press stealing her breath and making pleasurable tingles ricochet through her midsection. “Multitask. I come. You come.”
He swiveled his hips and made her gasp at his girth and claw at the pillow beneath his head for purchase.
“And then we’ll come some more later. And then again next week.”
She squeezed him tightly inside her and slipped her tongue into his mouth. She was already breathless, but she had to kiss him—needed one more point of connection with their bodies. One more reason for him to pay attention to her.
And she rode him, faster and working more muscles than she’d used in her last Zumba class. She let him stir her until she was a flame that needed to be banked, and she rode and squeezed as if he were her only hope of survival.
“Fuck,” he shouted when she’d pulled away from the kiss to draw in a much-needed breath.
He rolled her quickly onto her back, wrapped her legs around his waist and thrust feverishly. Growls and grunts escaped his clenched teeth, and the look of intensity in his handsome face was just too much for her.
“Want you so damn bad,” he said.
She could only nod. She had no breath to do anything else. Her chest was paralyzed and her body shook, and try as she might have to push back the surge of pleasure—to last for him—she just couldn’t.
“Fuck, Edy.”
His fingers dug deeper into her hips and his mouth opened wide for his soundless scream. He threw his head back and pulsed inside her, having his relief as she had hers.
She couldn’t say anything. Could hardly move, except to pat his thigh in a lame good job sort of way.
He slipped out of her slowly and, breathless, rolled onto his back beside him.
For a while, they both stared wordlessly at the ceiling.
Edy had been in that place before where neither she nor her lover had anything to say and neither wanted to be the first to suggest that he leave. There wasn’t any of that awkwardness with Al, though. She wanted him there and he wanted to be there. They didn’t need to say anything to each other at that moment.
Sighing, Al found her hand and squeezed it.
She squeezed back.
“Don’t really wanna move,” he said.
“You’ve got pretty good aim. You could probably reach the trashcan from here.”
He lolled his head toward the right—toward the other nightstand—and grunted. He grabbed a tissue from the box and, releasing Edy’s hand, wadded his tied-off condom into it.
He tossed the kit-and-caboodle toward the corner and fortunately didn’t miss the can.
“Well, can’t run worth a shit, but at least I can still do that.” He pulled her against him and nuzzled the top of her hair with his chin.
She slung an arm and leg over him and giggled. “I’m sure there are a lot of things you can still do.”
“Thigh was killing me at the end. I need to stop slacking on physical training.”
“Nobody asked you to be the top. I was doing just fine.”
He gave her ass a little swat and kept his hand there while it jiggled.
She sighed, and rolled her eyes. He couldn’t see it, but with her face pressed against his neck, he could most certainly feel it.
“Wanted to make sure we went at the same time,” he said.
“Didn’t trust me?”
He fiddled with her rear end, and she sighed again.
“Al,” she warned.
“What?”
“Quit it.”
“Why?”
“You’re making me jiggle.”
“Well, I’m not stopping you from making me jiggle. Pick a part.” He worked his semi-deflated cock against her torso, and she let out a bark of laughter.
“Maybe later,” she whispered, but then uncertainty made her mood plummet quickly. She couldn’t be sure there was going to be a later.
She tried to sit up, but Al was holding her too tightly.
“Al?”
“Mmm?”
“What does this mean?”
“What does what mean?”
“What we’re doing.”
“Pretty clear to me.”
“So let’s get on the same page. I don’t want to be your drop-in lover.”
“I don’t want a drop-in lover. I want you, period, and I’m gonna see you as often as I can come home. If I’ve got downtime, I’m either going to be in my car or with you.”
“You can’t promise that.”
“Yes I can. My priorities are clear. I’ve never once wavered. I’m playing the game the best I can, and if that ruffles some Rooster feathers, so be it.”
“But what about next year?”
“Next season’s gonna be tough. Not gonna lie.” He kissed her forehead and pressed his hands up and down the tingling flesh of her back. “But we’ve got a year between now and then, right? We’ll figure out our groove, and will know it’ll all be over in the fall. Can you give me that long to prove it to you? That I’m serious?”
It was a long time. And hell, she did want to try. Still…
“If you burn me, Al, I swear I’ll have my own batting practice with your balls.”
Reflexively, it seemed, he pulled his hips back. “Duly noted, baby.”
Chapter 14
One Year Later
Edy was thrilled she wouldn’t have to see the vast majority of the cleat-wearing shit stains on the Roosters team ever again, and her optimism in that regard was how she was able to serenely endure their final game of the season.
In spite of their leers, taunts, and aspersions, she sat smiling in the stands, waiting for the end of the ninth inning. The score was seven-to-two, Roosters, the team was about to have their first-ever playoff win…and Al was on the way out.
Of course they hated her. It was all her fault that one of their strongest players was going away, and apparently he had no say in the situation whatsoever.
It was all witchcraft, they claimed. Or really good pussy. That had been Cameron’s explanation for Al’s impending defection…at least, it was until her father benched Cameron for three games for suggesting it.
Edy waited outside the locker rooms after the game, smiling sweetly at each scowling Rooster making his way out.
Al came out, grinning broadly with his duffel bag’s strap slung over his shoulder. “Got my suitcase?” He got her moving toward the parking lot, and just in time, because Cameron had been making his way out, too. She wasn’t going to let that bozo bring down her road trip excitement.
“Yep, I brought it.”
“Good. I’ve got the route all mapped out.”
“What’s wrong with using GPS?” Edy asked.
“Well, we can use it, but we gotta make some detours.”
“I’m down for some scenic detours, but do you wanna let me know what they are?”
“Of course.” Al turned his wrist over and stared at the face of his watch. “First, we’ve got a four o’clock appointment with the magistrate.”
“Why? You got a speeding ticket to bribe your way out of or something?”
“No, because your father said you can’t move in with me unless I marry you.”
Edy stopped in her tracks and ducked out from under his arm. “What?”
He might have been grinning, but he didn’t look like he was joking. He shifted his weight and canted his head boyishly. “Come on, baby. Wallace is skipping the team dinner to stand as your witness.”
A solemn-faced Cameron caught up to them, sighed, and then said to Al, “So, is it on, or…”
“Yeah. Leaving now. I’ll meet you there.”
Cameron gave Edy a speculative look, then tracked across the parking lot toward his SUV.
When Edy looked at Al again, she found he held out a small velvet box. “Come on, baby. Don’t make me a liar. I told ’em all we were getting married.”
“D-do you think maybe you should have asked me first?” She snatched the box and clamped it between her palms. She was afraid to open it, as if doing so would unleash some sort of black magic that would undo the past year of bliss.
“Didn’t want to give you a chance to tell me no.”
“I wouldn’t have said no.”
“So you’re saying yes?”
“I—” She furrowed her brow. “Stop trying to talk me into circles.”
“Hey, you’re the silver-tongued saleswoman. I do the best I can just to keep up with you.” He chuckled, pried the box out of her death grip, and opened it to reveal the simple, pretty ring. “It was my grandmother’s. We had it resized for you.”
Ooh! Edy had never been the kind of girl who’d squeal with glee, but she came pretty close at that moment. “How?”
“Used your opal ring as a guide. I know you wear it on that finger sometimes, so I figured that was safe.”
“Wow. I had… Whoa.”
He laughed again, and caressed her chin. “Can I put it on you? That way, you get to be engaged for fifteen minutes before you say I do.”
She nodded and gave him her hand.
“See?” He slipped it past her knuckle and then kissed her fingers. “Perfect fit.”
“Al, I—”
“If you’re not gonna tell me that you love me and that you’re gonna marry me, just go ahead and take me out of my misery. I’ve got a wood bat that could do the job. Aluminum might be easier for you to swing, though.”
She took his hand and gently pulled him toward her car and its attached trailer. “I love you and I’m gonna marry you. You couldn’t have dropped some hints? Me and surprises don’t play nicely together. Surprises in my life are always life-altering in ways that aren’t necessarily good.”
“Nah, you would have thought I was up to something, and you’ve been stressed enough worrying I wouldn’t make good on my promise.” He bumped her hip with his. “I told you I was done, didn’t I? On to new things. The only team that matters is you and me, baby.”
She grinned and let him have her car keys. She was too damned giddy to drive.
Just one year prior, she would have never even imagined letting the guy get close to her, and now he was the person she depended on the most. A baseball player, at that.
He made her think there was hope yet for her father and the other guys on the team.
She scoffed and raked a hand through her heat-sagged curls. “Yeah, Al. Me and you, baby. Let’s do this.”
“All right, then.” He gave her a big sloppy kiss and jiggled her tit.
She groaned. “Al…”
He laughed. “Sue me. And hey, who woulda thought a broken bone would be good luck?”
“The poor turkeys that give up their wishbones at Thanksgiving every year.”
“Well, I’m fine with being your turkey.” He pulled her seatbelt across her body and pressed it into the buckle. “Better than being a Rooster.”
About the Author
Holley Trent is an award-winning author of more than forty works of contemporary, paranormal, and erotic romance. Raised in rural, coastal North Carolina, she currently makes the Colorado Front Range her home.
Want to chat about Lucky Break, the hapless hunks on the Reedsville Roosters team, or other topics? Catch her online on Twitter where she tweets under the handle @holleytrent. You can also chat with her on Facebook.
See her full backlist of titles in her Amazon author page.
If you followed the Roosters over from the Den of Sin series, you’ve probably guessed by now that Reedsville crew has a problem keeping players. Well…it probably won’t be much of a spoiler to say that’s not going to change anytime soon.
Meet the brawling baseball player Quinn Hathaway in Designated Hitter.
Subscribe to Holley’s contemporary romance newsletter so you don’t miss a single Reedsville release.
Want the HOTTEST reads around?
Just ADD SPICE!
GET FIVE (5) FREE READS JUST FOR JOINING!
Cade: Fire And Ice - WINNERS (sports) by Jessica Lake
Ellie
The first time I saw Cade Parker I was in twelfth grade history class, staring out the window at a monochrome fall day and fighting the urge to fall asleep. He walked in with our teacher, Mr. Small, and woke me up instantly.
I'd seen cute boys before. Hell, it was high school, I had a new (and consistently unrequited) crush every month. So it wasn't just Cade's classic jock good looks that perked me up, although they didn't hurt. Six foot four at eighteen years old and already sporting the kind of broad, muscular build usually seen on men who have long left their teenaged years behind, he was striking in a way that made the blood quicken in my veins. I wasn't the only one who noticed it, either. The entire feeling in the room changed when Cade walked in, towering over our teacher and wearing a cocky little half-smile on his face. Katy Grebling and her clique of popular girls immediately started whispering excitedly behind me and the boys, well, they sensed the presence of an alpha male just as quickly as the girls did.
"Class, this is Cade Parker. He's, uh, he's transferred to North Falls Senior Secondary while he plays hockey for the Ice Wings. I hope you all make him feel welcome."
The Ice Wings. One of the top junior hockey teams in the whole country and the sole reason for anyone to move to North Falls. With players consistently drafted by the NHL and a coach as famous for his outsized personality as he was for producing future stars, well-off hockey parents from all over the USA fought to get their sons onto the team. Cade Parker certainly looked the part, right down to his shaggy hockey hair and his almost cartoonishly enormous hands.
And what did Cade Parker do when asked to find a seat? He glanced over the room and took a seat next to the biggest social outcast of the class of 2005. Poor, plain Ellie Hesketh with her wild mop of tangled brown hair and her shrinking demeanor. Me.
An audible murmur of surprise rippled over the classroom at his seating choice but Cade didn't seem to notice. I felt him looking at me expectantly as he sat down but I didn't - couldn't - meet his gaze or show any outward acknowledgement of his presence at all. High school boys - especially popular ones - can be surprisingly dense when it comes to social hierarchies. It was a luxury I myself could not afford. Katy Grebling, undisputed queen of North Falls Senior Secondary and leader of a tight group of girls who wore a lot of pastel cashmere and drove sporty, expensive cars, was two seats behind me. I knew as sure as I knew the sun was going to rise in the east the next morning that her claim to the handsome, hockey-playing new boy was staked the minute he'd walked into the room. I also knew, having been on the receiving end of some of her beat-downs, that she had absolutely no qualms about defending her territory. So I didn't look back at Cade Parker when he sat down next
to me. Instead, I spent the rest of class acutely aware of his physical presence next to me, barely able to breathe and young and naive enough not to fully understand why.
When class ended and everyone began gathering their things, he introduced himself simply and with the total confidence of a person who has never experienced social ostracism.
