Long Relief (Hardball 1)

“Hey, I don’t have to run bases. Can I get your coat?” He took her jacket and hung it on a hook next to the door.

“So…” Maggie walked slowly past the kitchen, trailing one finger along the edge of the island. She couldn’t help herself. “Do you have so many women coming over here that you can’t differentiate between us on the intercom?”

He laughed. “No, actually. Just the opposite. I have so few women coming over that I’m stunned when I hear a female voice asking to come up.”

“I didn’t mean to just drop in.” She had to force herself to turn and face him. His hotness was like a solar eclipse, it was better not to look directly at it. The sick thing was, she’d had to watch every bite she’d taken since she’d turned thirty and exercise every spare moment. Here he was, at forty-two, five years older than her, eating pizza and looking amazing. It was so unfair. “I won’t stay if you’d rather—”

“Were you on a date with Casey?”

The question was so out of left field and completely absurd, it took Maggie a moment, with her mouth hanging open, to answer. When she did, it was a definitive, “No.”

“Oh, thank God.” Chris scrubbed both hands down his face.

That was a little too relieved, for Maggie’s tastes. “I thought we were supposed to be just friends.”

He raised an eyebrow and took lazy steps toward her. “If we’re just friends, why does it matter if I have other women coming up here?”

“It doesn’t.” She took a step back, but that didn’t stop him from advancing. It didn’t matter, she’d just been teasing. And a little curious. But if he’d slept with a hundred women, it didn’t matter. Because he was getting a little too close for his intent to be platonic. “Wait. I didn’t come here to do this.”

“Then what did you come here for?” He cocked his head, challenging her.

She didn’t think she could tell a lie as big as the one he was daring her to tell. So, it was a good thing he kissed her before she could attempt it. The moment his mouth covered hers, she knew why she’d come over. With his arms around her, all the tension of the past few weeks melted away. He was like a drug, a crazy, stupid high. And the crazy, stupid part only made it that much more tempting.

The stubble on his cheek scraped her, and his mouth tasted like beer. Right at that moment, it was the most powerful aphrodisiac she could imagine. She leaned against his hard chest while his hands slowly inched her dress up her thighs. This was what she’d needed, and she was officially going to stop analyzing it and just enjoy the moment, in the moment. She could agonize over her bad choices later.

“Look, it was rough on the road,” he said, nipping at her bottom lip before he continued. “Maybe we could do this upstairs?”

If she could make it up the stairs with her knees as weak as they were, it would be a miracle, but at least she had him to lean on as they went. She went up backward, leaning down to kiss him whenever she could trust her balance. “Okay, but I have to take the heels off this time.”

“I love the heels,” he groaned. Then they gained the loft and she slid her hand under the waistband of his pants, and he groaned for a much different reason. “Fine, no heels. Fair enough.”

Chris’s bedroom looked completely different than she would have imagined it. An open loft with a half-wall surrounding it, the entire space was painted sleek, stylish black. A low, king-sized bed piled high with fluffy pillows sat between two nightstands of equal height.

She left him to stroll around the space, pulling one capped sleeve off her shoulder. “I… was expecting something more… a mattress on the floor, ugly striped bedspread… you know. Bachelor.”

In the muted light from the downstairs fixtures, the shadows sharpened Chris’s features. The intensity of his desire was evident in his expression, and he slowly stalked her like prey, leisurely mimicking her steps on the other side of the room. “I’m a bachelor. Not a college kid. I can afford to hire a decorator.”

She slid the other shoulder down and pushed the dress to her waist, an arm over the black satin cups of her bra. She plucked at one bra strap idly. “I’m impressed.”

He came to her, covering her hand with his and slowly pushing the strap down. His hand molded her breast through the satin, then pushed inside. His callused thumb brushed over her nipple, setting off electric charges in a direct path to her cunt. She flooded with wet heat, felt the pull of her satin panties against her as they soaked to her skin. When he dipped his head to take her nipple into his mouth, she fell against him.