Long Relief (Hardball 1)

The electronic chime alerted them before the doors opened, and he lifted his head just long enough to pull her out of the elevator with him. She blinked in the dim hallway. The walls were papered in dark olive, and copper sconces directed soft amber light upward on either side of a black steel door. He opened it with his card and turned on the lights before gesturing her inside.

She supposed she should have expected something fancy. His current contract had been very generous, and he’d been playing long enough to have raised a bank balance considerably. Maybe it was just the casual, everyman way he presented, but she’d expected a two-bedroom apartment with beanbag chairs, not a luxury loft with leather sofas and an ultra-modern fireplace. She had to close her mouth as she stepped inside. “Wow.”

“Yeah, I think the decorators did a nice job spending my money.” He shut the door and crossed to the kitchen. A long counter with barstools served as the demarcation between the living room and the open kitchen. “Can I get you a beer?”

Frowning, she turned from the high, arched windows that held a spectacular view of the Grand Rapids waterfront. Two seconds ago, he’d been just dying to get his hands on her, and now he was slowing down for a drink? “Sure, I guess that would be fine.”

He smiled as he popped the tops off two longneck bottles. “If I’m going to be truthful, I have to admit, I’m dying to kiss you again.”

Settling on a stool, she leaned over the counter. It would give him a good view of her cleavage, and a good incentive to stop playing host and just fuck her brains out already. “Then why don’t you?”

He slid a bottle across the counter. “Because I’m selfish.”

“That wasn’t the answer I was expecting. Please, elaborate.” She raised an eyebrow as she tilted the bottle to her lips.

He laughed and cleared his throat. “I’m pretty sure that once you get what you want out of this, you’re going to suddenly remember what a bad idea it is to have sex with one of your players, and you’re going to bolt. And I would like to delay that for as long as I reasonably can.”

She swallowed painfully. “So… we’re not going to have sex?”

“Oh, no. We’re going to have sex, believe me.” He grinned at her and took another drink from his bottle.

She laughed. “While I appreciate the sentiment, I think it’s bullshit.”

“Do you?”

“Yeah. I don’t think you want anything more than a one-night-stand, either. I think you’re just afraid to disappoint me.” It might be a nasty trick to play on his competitive spirit, but Maggie had to draw a line in the sand. She really was going to cut and run when it was over, and she didn’t want him believing otherwise. It would be unfair to him if she let him expect something more.

He slowly walked to her side of the island, pushing his bottle along the countertop as he did. “I don’t think I’ll disappoint you.”

Maggie tsk-tsked and took another drink before responding. “You’re the one who brought it up in the batting cage. You said you might not live up to my expectations.”

“Oh, I won’t live up to your expectations. I’ll exceed them.” He set his beer aside and reached for her, cupping her jaw in one hand to kiss her, long and slow.

It was torture, but she wasn’t about to let him get the last word. She leaned back and smoothed her hand over the front of her dress. “This is starting to look bad. I mean, you talked a big game in the batting cage… look how that turned out.”

He laughed and nodded. “Okay, you have me there.”

Before she could retort, he put his hands around her waist and lifted her up. Her arms locked behind his neck as he set her on the counter. His hands slipped up her legs, under the tight skirt, fingers hooking through the wisp of sheer fabric she wore beneath, and she lifted her hips. Slowly, he dragged her panties down her thighs, sliding from the stool to one knee to pull them over her heels.

She moved one foot to push her shoe off, and he brushed it aside. “Leave those on.”

The softly spoken command sent a chill up her spine. Her pussy clenched as he seated himself on the stool once again, situating himself between her legs so that she had nowhere to put them but over his wide shoulders. He guided them there with his rough hands, kissing her calf, her knee, her inner thigh as he did. She held on to the edge of the counter, knuckles white with anticipation as he pushed his hands beneath her ass to lift her hips. She leaned back, elbows meeting the cold granite countertop, and he slowly lowered his mouth to her aching sex.