by Tara Wyatt
Finally, it was Jake’s turn, and Abby moved away from Marlowe and Maggie so it wouldn’t be totally obvious that she was in on their plot. As she did, she almost collided with Javi, who was nursing a beer.
“How was it up there?” she asked, gesturing toward the stage.
He laughed and shrugged. “Not so bad.” He paused and then leaned in closer. “Thought maybe you might bid.”
“On you?” she asked, frowning, trying to pay attention to what was happening on stage as Jake was introduced.
“Well, yeah.”
Abby shook her head slowly, trying to figure out what to say. After a second, she decided on humor. “I don’t know how much you think I get paid, but I don’t have a few grand lying around. Besides, we can hang out anytime,” she added, bumping him with her shoulder. He frowned and took a sip of his beer.
“Ladies, we’ve saved quite possibly the best for last,” said Laurel as Mariah Carey’s “Fantasy” started playing. “Jake Landon is new to the team, but trust me, I don’t think that’ll stop you from bidding.”
Jake stepped out onto the stage, looking like pure masculine perfection. He wore a light gray suit that hugged his muscular body with a dress shirt open at the collar. His waves were perfectly styled with just a little bit of product, and he’d shaved, showing off his square jaw. He rubbed a hand over his mouth as his eyes searched the crowd. He smiled a little when they landed on her. She felt instantly flushed with warmth.
“Ladies, Jake is thirty-seven years old, six-foot-four, and two hundred and twenty pounds.” Laurel pretended to fan herself, and Abby had to admit that she was a charming hostess for the event. “Whew, that’s a lot of man. I mean, look at those hands. Yowza.” She gave herself a shake. “Anyway, Jake grew up in Southern California and loves surfing, the beach, stargazing and spending time laughing with friends. His ideal woman is confident and capable, athletic, ambitious and has a great sense of humor.” At that, Jake’s eyes found her again, and she glanced down, hiding her smile. “His dream date would be dancing the night away followed by a food truck feast. Let’s start the bidding at $1,000, shall we?”
To distract herself from the flurry of bidding, she turned back to Javi, who was studying her with an odd expression on his face. But then he blinked and replaced it with a smile.
“Listen, Abby, I need to ask you something.”
“Sure,” she said absently, her gaze ping ponging back and forth between the multiple bidders, including Marlowe as bidding moved above $5,000.
“Once the season is done, whenever that is, can I take you out? Dinner? Drinks?”
Her head whipped around as the auction continued around her, getting rowdier and rowdier. She shook her head slowly. “Javi, I don’t think it’s a good idea. We work together and…” She hesitated, biting her lip. “I’m kinda seeing someone.”
“Oh.” He rocked back on his heels and shoved his hands into his pockets. “Oh, okay. Yeah, you know, you’re right, it’s probably not a good idea. And I didn’t realize you weren’t single. My bad.”
She reached out and laid a hand on his arm. “I really like our friendship, Javi. Are we okay?”
He nodded. “Of course. Yeah. I’m just gonna go get another drink. You want anything?”
She shook her head and let him escape into the crowd, feeling sorry for hurting his feelings with her rejection. If Jake wasn’t in her life, would she have agreed to the date with Javi? Possibly. Maybe even probably. But it didn’t matter because she was with Jake. She glanced over her shoulder, tracking Javi through the crowd, hoping their easy relationship would recover.
As the bidding for Jake hit $7,000, tying him with Beau for the highest bid, Jake pulled off his suit jacket, dropped to the stage and cranked out several one-armed push ups, eliciting a round of screams. The bidding surged up past $10,000 and Abby made her way back to Marlowe and Maggie, feeling guilty.
Leaning in close, she whisper-shouted, “This is getting really expensive, guys. It’s okay. It was a nice idea, but I don’t want you to spend all this money just for me.”
“Are you sure?” Marlowe asked, one eyebrow arched. “It’s for charity, I don’t mind.”
Abby took a breath and then nodded. She couldn’t let her jealous insecurity cost this woman thousands and thousands of dollars. “Yeah. It’s fine. It’s fine.” She was being silly and insecure.
Marlowe gave her a look that clearly said if you say so and lowered her paddle, dropping out of the race. After another moment and Jake undoing a few buttons on his shirt, the bidding finally stopped at $12,000. Jake picked up a bouquet of roses—provided for each of the bachelors—and handed them to the winning bidder, a stunning blonde in her early forties.
“The money will still to go charity, and if you want Jake to do an event with your non-profit, I’m sure he will,” said Abby, watching as the woman gave Jake a kiss on the cheek, leaving a bit of lipstick on his skin. Abby turned away, forcing a smile onto her face and tried to pay attention to the conversation going on in front of her. After a few moments, she felt a featherlight touch on her lower back, and she knew without looking that it was Jake. She’d know his touch anywhere.
“Okay, I gotta ask,” he said, taking a sip of his beer and pointing at Marlowe. “What was the plan here?” He gestured between Marlowe, Maggie and Abby.
Marlowe blinked innocently. “No plan. Just trying to do my part for charity.”
Jake squinted at her. “Mmmhmm.” He turned to Abby. “No plan, huh?”
“I plead the fifth,” she said. “And you have lipstick on your cheek, FYI.” Jake made a grumbling sound and wiped at his cheek. The conversation quickly turned to the postseason and the game against the Orioles, and Abby had to remind herself not to reach for Jake’s hand or lean into him. It felt both frustrating and deliciously naughty that he was right here and she had to pretend they were nothing more than colleagues. Sure, their little group knew the truth, but the rest of the people around them didn’t.
After a few minutes, Jake bent and whispered, “back hallway, five minutes,” before breaking away from their group. Now that the auction was over, the party was in full swing, with drinks flowing and music thumping. So, while her entire body hummed with anticipation for whatever it was Jake was planning, she asked Marlowe about her upcoming tour and teased Dylan and Maggie about hearing wedding bells ringing, which only made them blush and hold hands, which was almost painfully adorable.
After excusing herself to use the ladies’ room, she made her way to the back hallway, but didn’t see any sign of Jake anywhere. But then a plain black door opened and he pulled her in to what she quickly realized was a utility closet. Dimly lit, she could make out stacks of extra chairs and shelves stacked with toilet paper and cleaning supplies. Without a word, Jake took one of the chairs and wedged it under the doorknob, then pulled her to him. She felt lightheaded as adrenaline shot through her. Her heart slammed into high gear, making it hard to breathe.
“You okay?” he asked, skating his hands up and down her back. It made her want to purr and wind herself around him.
“Yeah,” she said, inhaling and pulling his scent into her lungs. “I’m good.”
He slipped a hand beneath her chin and tilted her face up, forcing her to meet his gaze. “You sure?”
She licked her lips and nodded. “Yeah. Just sucks having to sneak around and…I guess I’m just feeling unsettled, you know?”
“Mmm.” It was a low, rumbling sound from somewhere deep in his chest. Her breath caught as his strong, warm hands cupped her face. He took her lips in one long, sweet, slow kiss. “I wish you could’ve bid on me.” His gaze was heavy-lidded as he spoke. He traced his thumbs over her cheekbones, sending ripples of heat coursing outward over her face.
She slipped her hands around his waist. “Oh, really? And what would I get for my money, if I had been the winning bidder?”
He dipped his head and grazed his lips over hers, a tease of a kiss. “Anything you fucking want.�
� He kissed her again, his tongue teasing at her lips.
“Or do you mean any fucking I want?” she asked, her heart throbbing against her ribs.
He traced his knuckles over her nipple and smiled, a slow, sexy smile that had her melting for him. “You’re the winning bidder, sweetheart. You tell me.” His eyes were dark pools, lust and need shining in their chestnut depths. He pushed his hips against her, his rock-hard erection pressing against her stomach.
She felt his words right between her legs and fought the urge to squirm. Oh, hell yes, she was going to play this game with him. So she leaned forward and licked a path from his exposed collarbone up to his jaw. “I want you to fuck me, right here, right now.” She started unbuttoning his shirt as heat flared in his eyes. “Show me that you were worth every penny.”
With a low growl, he cupped her ass and picked her up, backing her into one of the shelves laden with cleaning supplies. “You are so fucking sexy in this dress,” he breathed, kissing her neck as she wound her legs around his hips. Her dress rode up her legs, and she wriggled against him, needing to be closer. “Are you wet for me?” he asked, moving her up and down, grinding her against his cock through their clothes.
She clung to his broad shoulders, trying to anchor herself against the onslaught of heady pleasure flooding her. “I’ve been wet since I saw you up on that stage,” she said, loving the thrill of playing with him.
“Mmm, I was hoping you’d be the winning bidder. As soon as I saw you in that little fuck me dress, I wanted it to be you. I was so fucking hard up there, just thinking about sinking my cock into you.”
“I guess it’s your lucky day,” she said, and then gasped and bit back a moan as he tugged the front of her dress down and sucked her nipple into his mouth.
“Fuck yes, it is,” he said against her breast, nipping at her skin before turning his attention to her other nipple. It felt completely wicked and indecent the way her breasts were spilling out of her dress, and she reveled in it, knowing she could because this was Jake and she was safe with him. He crushed his mouth to hers and heat flooded her, fiery wetness pooling between her legs. His tongue slid hungrily against hers and she whimpered, rolling her hips against him and sliding her arms around his deliciously hard torso, earning a low, gruff moan from deep in his chest. His mouth melded with hers and he kissed her until everything around her dissolved, and all she cared about was his lips, his tongue, his body pinning her. Hot, demanding lust thrummed through her veins as she moaned into his mouth, wanting the kiss and needing so much more from him.
“I’ve always wanted to fuck a ballplayer,” she whispered, nipping at his ear.
He lifted his head, a sexy, lopsided grin on his face. “Oh yeah?”
“Oh, yeah,” she said, her head falling back as he kissed her neck. “I love watching you play. It’s so sexy.”
“Is that why you came to the auction tonight? To try to fuck a ballplayer?” He pressed his cock against her again, making her ache for him.
“To try to fuck you, Jake Landon. I’ve had a crush on you for a long time.”
“Anything for a fan,” he said, his voice low and husky. He set her down and hooked one of her legs around his hips, pushing her panties aside and sliding two fingers into her, fucking her slowly. She moaned and her legs trembled under her.
“I’ve imagined your hands inside me so many times. Just like this.”
“Does it feel as good as you imagined?” he asked, working his thumb in a circle over her swollen clit. She shook her head, a rough, almost senseless movement.
“Not even close. It’s so much better.”
“These need to come off. Now.” Slowly, he pulled his fingers out, leaving her feeling empty and only intensifying the ache deep inside her. She hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her panties and pushed them over her hips, her eyes not leaving Jake’s as she stripped. Her panties hit the floor and she stepped out of them as he undid his belt buckle, unbuttoning his pants and pulling the fly down, the rasp of the zipper loud in the confined space of the closet.
Wrapping his arms around her, he kissed her, and her lips parted eagerly for him. Cupping her ass again, he lifted her up and pressed her back firmly into the boxes lining the shelves. Her legs wrapped around his waist and she wound her arms around his shoulders, feeling light and tiny in his arms. Feeling incredibly sexy and wanted. She’d never done anything like this in a public place before, and she hadn’t really spent much time role playing either, but this, here with Jake felt so damn perfect she could’ve cried. The auction didn’t matter, the uncertainty of how this was going to work in the future didn’t matter. All that mattered was here and now with him.
The head of his thick cock pressed against her and he rocked his hips, sliding his hard length over her clit. She bucked her hips and stifled a moan.
He grinned and kissed her. “You’ll have to be quiet, sweetheart. Can’t have anyone know what we’re up to.” He kissed her again, nipping at her lips. “Not every winning bidder gets this kind of special attention.”
He pushed into her in one deep thrust, burying himself to the hilt, filling and stretching her so abruptly that she cried out.
“Oh my God, you’re so fucking big,” she whispered, clenching around him. He let out a grunt and pulled all the way out and slammed back in, stealing her breath and her thoughts.
“Good thing you’re so wet. Fuck, you’re tight. You feel so good, shit.” His voice became rougher, jagged around the edges as he spoke. He pulled back, teasing the head of his cock just inside her. She squirmed against him, wanting him back inside her, but he kept up the teasing, shallow thrusts, making her ache for him even more.
“Jake,” she panted, his name a single, begging syllable.
He smiled at her, so devastatingly sexy that she didn’t know how to process it. “Say please, sweetheart. You paid for this. Ask for what you want.”
“I want all of you back inside me. Fill me up. Please. Please, Jake. Please,” she murmured, the words falling from her lips. He grinned and slowly pushed all the way back inside her. She clenched around him, not wanting to let him go. Wanting this moment to stretch out forever. In this tiny space, shut away from everyone, they were all that mattered. All that existed. There was no secrecy, no pressure, no uncertainty. It was perfect.
He shifted her, changing the angle slightly so that he grazed her clit with each thrust. It wasn’t enough pressure to get her off, just enough to amp up her arousal to almost impossible heights. She bit her lip, suppressing her moans. She writhed against him, the shelf shaking with each thrust, heat and tension coiling together in her core, winding her tighter and tighter.
Suddenly, Jake pulled out of her, set her down, dropped to his knees and closed his mouth over her clit.
“Fuck, I’m coming,” she gasped, her delayed orgasm tearing through her. She shook as he worked her clit, the pleasure like a thunderclap, loud and intense and earthshaking. She was still trembling when he stood and guided her to her knees, his cock fisted in his hand. He cocked an eyebrow at her, a silent question. In response, she leaned forward and took him deep into her mouth, tasting herself on him. He wove his hands in her hair, and she looked up at him as she sucked him. The expression on his face was enough to make her heart stop, just for a second, it was so full of adoration. And then his features tightened and he let go with a quiet groan, coming in her mouth. She swallowed him down, greedy for him, gradually pulling back with gentle licks and soft kisses.
He dropped his head and steadied himself with a hand on the shelf behind her. “Fuck, that was hot,” he rumbled, his chest heaving. She tucked him back into his pants, zipped them up and then stood.
“Pleasure doing business with you,” she said with a teasing smile.
He laughed and pulled her to him for a kiss.
Twelve
The morning following the bachelor auction—and the crazy hot supply closet sex with Abby—Jake found himself inside a bustling coffee shop not far from Del
l Park. He would’ve rather spent another hour in bed with Abby, but Hunter had set up this meeting with his powerhouse agent, Aerin Stone, so they could discuss post-career options, and this was the only time she’d had available to meet before the craziness of the post-season descended on the team.
He spotted Aerin at a small table toward the back, and as he wove through the crowd toward her, a part of him felt like a traitor. After all, he had an agent—a good one—and meeting with another, even if it was casual and not technically related to baseball, was kind of a gray area. But Howard had never once approached Jake about career options once his playing days were done, and he had to admit, he was intrigued to hear what Aerin had to say.
Once he’d reached the table, he extended his hand. “Jake Landon, nice to meet you.”
“Aerin Stone. And it is nice to meet me. Hunter tells me you’re a bit stuck on what life after retirement might look like,” she said, sitting back down. Her icy blond hair framed her angular face, giving her a polished but slightly intimidating look that was only heightened by her expensive-looking suit, heels, and designer bag. She pushed a mug of coffee toward Jake, as well as a plate holding a ham and cheese breakfast sandwich on a croissant. He took a sip of the coffee, surprised to find it exactly the way he liked it. He quirked an eyebrow at her and Aerin sat back, a satisfied grin on her face. “I do my research.” She took a sip of her tea. “So, how much longer do you see yourself playing?”
He sipped his coffee and frowned a little. The coffee hit his empty stomach and seemed to immediately curdle. “I don’t know. I guess it partly depends on how much longer my body holds up.”
Aerin nodded thoughtfully. “Catcher’s knees, banged up shoulder, a couple of concussions,” she said, gesturing to his faded black eye. “What about moving to an infield position to stretch things out? I know you’re currently in year six of an eight-year, $149 million contract, which the Longhorns assumed when you were traded. Two more years would put you to thirty-nine, and I promise you, you won’t see that kind of money in whatever offer comes next.”
