Hard and Fast

by Lisa Renee Jones

  He narrowed his eyes on her. “Why would you warn him? You’re a reporter.”

  A frustrated sound escaped her. “You surprise me, Brad.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “You label reporters like we’re some sort of demon race capable of only bad deeds, like there’s no individuality. I guess I could do that with pitchers. Maybe I should assume you and Casey are the same type of person.”

  “Me and Becker?” He snorted. “You have got to be kidding.”

  “You’re both pitchers,” she said. “Aren’t you all arrogant and immature?”

  He had just been put in his place. Laughter rolled from his lips as he hugged her. “I stand corrected. Not all pitchers or all reporters are made the same.” His lips brushed hers. “Forgive me?”

  “Well, I guess I’ll cut you some slack since you’re in pain.”

  “Pain?” he asked, leaning back to face her. “What are you talking about?”

  “You haven’t used your throwing arm since we started eating. Even now it’s plastered to your side.” She trailed her finger along his top lip. “And you have this white line here. You’re hurting and don’t tell me otherwise.”

  Reluctantly, he nodded. “Okay. I’m hurting.”

  “How long until you have to pitch again?”

  “Just practice the rest of this week. If the rotation holds, I pitch at the end of the next series. Then we’re in Houston before Dallas and I think Coach will bench me those games to save me for the Rangers. There’s minimal throwing in a long stretch of games so I should mend.”

  She shook her head. “You need more time than that and we both know it. When are you seeing a doctor?”

  “In Texas. After the series.”

  “You don’t even have an appointment lined up yet.” She made a frustrated sound and pushed out of his reach. “Every time you pitch injured, you risk permanent tissue damage.”

  “Every time I don’t pitch, I risk permanent career damage. I risk my contract with the Rays.” He hesitated. “I moved my mom here last year, so it’s important I stay with this team.”

  She didn’t say anything for a while, and he expected her to come up with an argument of some sort on why he was the world’s biggest idiot gambling with his arm. But he expected wrong. Without another word, she got off the bed and located her phone.

  “My sister is as good as they come. And she’s discreet. She actually treats a lot of baseball injuries. I’d like to call her and let you two set something up.”

  Brad was stunned by her offer. Where were the lectures about telling his coach or his agent? Where was the pressure to take himself out of rotation? And why wasn’t she taking notes for her next column? He felt vulnerable—a wholly unwelcome emotion—as his preconceived ideas about her toppled. Maybe she was genuine. Maybe he could trust her.

  “All right, then,” he said.

  A hint of a smile curved her lips as she dialed. A few seconds later, he listened to her laugh and joke with her sister before detailing his situation. “Yes. I’ll tell him about Daddy.”

  Finally, she wrapped up her conversation. She covered the mouthpiece with her palm before offering it to him. “Her name is Kelli. She’s the wild one in the family, just so you know.”

  He wasn’t sure what to make of that, but he nodded and accepted the phone. “Hello. This is Brad.”

  “Bradley, sweetie, this is Kelli. Listen, we’re gonna get you all taken care of. I’d feel better if you were seeing the doctor who did your surgery, but I won’t waste my breath and pressure you. We both know you won’t listen. You’re scared shitless over your career and that’s guiding your decisions.”

  Brad laughed at the pure audacity of the woman. If anyone else had told him what she just said, he would have hung up. But the smoothness of her delivery backed up by an obvious confidence that she knew what she was talking about, make it okay with him.

  Kelli continued, “So. Talk to me. Tell me about your previous injury.”

  “I don’t know that this injury is related. Before my hand tingled and got numb. They said the nerve needed to be repositioned.”

  “An ulnar nerve transposition. Does that sound right?”

  “Vaguely familiar. I didn’t catch the details.”

  “Hmm. Don’t remember anything other than when the doctor said you could play again. Most of my patients suffer selective hearing. I’m working on a cure. Back to you. Now you say your pain is more localized, your elbow swells and you have tendinitis-type symptoms.”

  “Right. Exactly. So what does that mean? How bad is it?”

  “I can’t tell you that from a phone call. I’ll meet you after hours the night you get into town and arrange some tests. Anyone I enlist will keep my secrets, trust me. Hopefully, before you pitch another game I can tell you how much damage you’re doing to yourself. I can also give you some medication to help the pain and inflammation. I assume you’re taking Advil and using ice?”

  “Right.”

  “And you made up some story to get out of practice this week.”

  He knew he should, but that would raise flags he didn’t dare risk. “No, but I plan to dodge pitching as much as possible.”

  “It would be better if you skipped it altogether and hopped on a plane to come see me now. But I know you aren’t going to do that. Just be careful.”

  They talked a few more minutes and scheduled the meeting. “And Brad,” Kelli said. “Do yourself a favor. Find a good acupuncturist right away. They can’t cure you, but they take away some of the pain.”

  “An acupuncturist.” Surely he’d heard wrong.

  “Yes. Listen to your new doctor. She knows best. I’ve never lost a man, yet, sugar, and I don’t plan to now. Put my sister back on the line.”

  Amanda took the phone and talked for a bit before hanging up. “Well then,” she said. “You’re all set. Kelli said to stop second-guessing her and go to the acupuncturist.”

  “I wasn’t—”

  “She says you are.”

  He laughed. “Okay. I was.”

  “She has a unique approach, but her patients love her. Most doctors don’t pimp vitamins and herbs the way my sister does.”

  “I can’t wait to meet her,” he said. Not because Kelli interested him, but because everything about Amanda fascinated him.

  She hesitated. “There’s one thing you should know beforehand, though.”

  “Do I want to know?”

  “This is kind of embarrassing. My dad is a huge fan of yours. If he finds out you saw my sister and he didn’t get to meet you…” She shook her head and crinkled her nose. “Let’s just say it won’t be pretty.”

  “Isn’t he an NFL team doc?” he asked. “I figured he’d be more into football than baseball.”

  “He loves all sports, but baseball is equal to football. And you’re his favorite player. Kind of weird, huh?”

  “I’m flattered,” Brad said, sincerely. Knowing he had fans always made him happy. “I’d be happy to meet him.”

  “He’ll want your autograph. He collects them.” She rolled her eyes. “No. Chases them. He’s obsessed.” She laughed. “At his last birthday party, he wanted everyone to sign a banner. He’ll milk any opportunity to add to his collection.”

  “Does he sell them or something?”

  “Oh, no,” Amanda said, waving off that idea. “He has them all displayed in a huge room. He wouldn’t dare part with a single one.”

  “He sounds like quite the character,” Brad commented.

  “Yes. I’m definitely the normal one.” She rose and headed toward the bathroom.

  A few seconds later she reappeared, a medicine bottle in hand. She popped a couple Advil into her palm and held them out to him.

  He accepted the pills and reached for a drink. As he swallowed, his gaze settled on the front of his shirt, on the way Amanda’s nipples puckered beneath the material. Desire rushed through his veins, hard and fast.

  As soon as he swallo
wed the medication, he reached for Amanda, pulling her between his legs. With his index finger, Brad lightly traced one plump nipple before tweaking it to a stiff peak. “I want you.”

  She sucked in a breath. “That’s not a good idea. You’re hurting.”

  Brad grinned. “Then I guess you better be on top.”

  16

  NAKED AND LYING on her stomach, Amanda blinked awake. She brushed her hair off her face, and took in her surroundings. Daylight registered first. Next, the spicy scent of male cologne. Images of her and Brad making love played in her head. She barely remembered falling asleep.

  She lifted her head higher but could find no sign of Brad. The distant sound of running water grabbed her attention. He was in the shower, which made her wonder what time it was. She eyed the clock, panicking when she saw it was well past her usual wake-up time.

  She kicked off the blankets, then darted for the bathroom. She had to get ready in half her usual time.

  Not bothering to knock, she shoved open the door. She pulled aside the shower curtain and climbed in. Thank God, the water was hot.

  Brad’s eyes went wide at the sight of her, then a sexy smile spread across his face. “Morning.”

  She swallowed hard at the long and lean sight of him. And though she tried not to—she didn’t have time to dally—her eyes slid down his abs and even lower to notice he was quickly getting hard.

  She moaned at the thought of having to ignore such an invitation. “Change places with me. I’m late. I have to get to work.”

  He let her maneuver into his position, then he grabbed the bottle of soap from the side of the tub. “Let me help.”

  “No!” she said. “Step back, Brad. I’ll never get to work if I let you distract me. Better yet, get out.”

  He laughed and leaned against the wall. “I’ll keep my hands to myself and just watch.”

  Watch? Amanda felt the water pour over her shoulder. The temperature wasn’t warm enough to explain the heat suddenly coursing through her body. And it certainly wasn’t cold enough to make her nipples tighten and ache the way they did. No. Those reactions were all compliments of the erotic sensation of Brad watching her. Making love to her with his eyes as he had with his body.

  By the time she finished in the shower not ten minutes later, she was wet in more ways than one. It didn’t help that Brad watched her dress while he wore nothing but a towel. How would she ever look at that man in a towel again and not develop naughty thoughts?

  Thankfully he left her alone to dry her hair. She was putting on makeup when Brad poked his head into the bathroom. He now wore his jeans, which hung low on his hips, but nothing else. “How do you like your coffee? I saw creamer and skim milk in the fridge.”

  He made coffee for her? Amanda’s heart squeezed at the gesture—another one of those domestic touches that made them more a couple than just lovers.

  “Skim milk would be great,” she said, feeling a flutter in her stomach as their eyes met.

  He winked. “Coming up.”

  He brought her a cup. Amanda accepted it and took a sip. “Perfect. Thanks.”

  They stared at each other for several intense seconds, the sizzle between them beyond physical. There was more. Amanda felt it in every inch of her body, inside and out.

  He cleared his throat. “I guess I better let you get ready,” he said.

  “Right. Yes. I need to hurry.” But what she wouldn’t give to blow off work and spend the day playing in the sheets with Brad.

  WITH ONE EYE on her watch, Amanda headed out the front door only to discover Karen’s car parked in the driveway. Damn. She needed to warn Brad not to leave until Karen had gone. The last thing she wanted was Karen finding out who’d had a sleepover next door.

  Amanda was about to go inside when her gaze caught on the paper. She had finally printed her story about Casey. She’d included a comparison of his stats to Brad’s. What a coincidence that Brad was here the morning it hit the stands. She snagged the paper then darted back into the house only to have the door fly open. Brad, now fully dressed, stood in the doorway. “Hey,” he said, offering her a charming smile. “I thought you left.”

  She rushed at him, shoving him into the house and letting the door slam behind her. “Karen hasn’t left yet. She could see you.”

  “Like she’d care. She’s the weather woman, Amanda. Has anyone ever told you you’re paranoid?”

  “I don’t want anyone making assumptions about me. Stay here until she’s gone.”

  “You run around naked in front of me and tell me I can’t touch. Then you act like I am worse than the plague because no one can see me. I have to tell you, Amanda, this isn’t the kind of reward a man expects after a night of great sex.”

  “No, it’s the punishment for overstaying your welcome.”

  His lips twitched with an ill-contained smile. “You don’t mean that and we both know it.”

  “You’re very arrogant, Brad Rogers. And since it’s public knowledge, don’t be surprised if I write about it.”

  “Apparently you like arrogant.”

  Now she was fighting a smile. “When I said all pitchers were alike, I didn’t mean it.” She shoved the paper at him. “Interesting enough, in today’s feature I did a little comparison of you and Casey.”

  “What?”

  She laughed. His expression said he was imagining all kinds of horrible things the story might say about him. “Stop panicking. I went easy on you. But now who’s paranoid?” She shook her head. “I’m going to work.” She headed for the door, pausing to peek at him over her shoulder and wave.

  Stepping onto the porch, Amanda decided she enjoyed being the one with the upper hand. She headed for her car, cell phone in hand.

  She punched in Reggie’s number and the minute he answered she started talking. “Reggie. Oh, good. I got you. Please, please, please cover for me. I know I’m late but I—”

  “Slow down, honeybun.” Reggie laughed. “You’re a reporter. You don’t punch the clock.”

  Amanda got into her rental. She’d be so glad to have her own car back. “I know, but—”

  “No buts about it. However, I have some interesting news.”

  Don’t let it be about me and Brad. “What news?”

  “We’re going on the road, baby! Kevin called me into his office this morning to say I was tagging along for your first time out.”

  “You’re kidding? We’re going on the road! I’m not getting fired.”

  “No, you’re not getting fired.” He sounded exasperated, as though he were getting tired of reassuring her.

  “Well, not yet at least. As long as Jack doesn’t bust out with the steroid story before I get to it.”

  “Stop ranting about Jack. I have more news.”

  “More?”

  “Yes, more. Good news, too. But I’ll tell you when you get here. I think you should pick up doughnuts on your way in to celebrate.”

  “Oh, you do, do you?” She grinned from ear to ear because she couldn’t seem to stop herself. “Whatever you know and haven’t told me yet better be good.”

  “Oh, it’s good,” he said with confidence. “Éclairs. I like éclairs.”

  “Fine. But I need directions to the location of these éclairs. And later you can direct me to a good gym to work off the two I’m going to eat myself.”

  Amanda took down directions and then started the car. A hot night of sex and great career news—what more could a girl ask for?

  Just as she pulled into traffic, her phone rang. She hit the answer button without even checking caller ID. “This is Amanda.”

  “You accused Becker of wearing garters?”

  Brad’s deep voice sent a shock wave of awareness through her body. “I did not. I simply said there are rumors he’s a Bull Durham fan with similar superstitious habits to the pitcher in the movie. I went on to say he denies anything of the sort.”

  “I’m sure he’ll see it that way.”

  “Maybe Casey has a bette
r sense of humor than you.”

  “According to the stats you listed, it’s all he has better than me.”

  “He fares well against your stats when you were a rookie.” Brad snorted. “Ah,” she said. “You’re a little touchy when it comes to Casey, I see.”

  “Not at all. I just don’t like the kid.”

  “At least you’re honest.”

  He changed the subject. “I think you should invite me over tonight.”

  Amanda was thankful to pull up to a stoplight because his words caught her off guard and left her more than a little rattled. A couple of nights of sex was one thing. But spending two nights in a row together was leaning toward a relationship. And no matter how much she wanted him, she couldn’t have him. At least not without jeopardizing her career.

  “We had a one-night stand. Well, two nights, but regardless. That means we don’t see each other again.” Disappointment settled in her gut as she said the words.

  “But we will see each other again because of your job. Why not work the sex out of our systems? If we have so much sex we don’t want each other anymore, then there will be no chance we’ll give ourselves away.”

  Amanda laughed. Somehow she doubted she’d ever work sex with Brad out of her system. “You think that’s possible?”

  “Be fun to try.”

  Yeah, it would. “But dangerous. We both have a lot to lose if anyone catches us together.”

  “You’re right.” Pause. “How about tomorrow night?”

  She should say no. She told herself to say no. Instead, she said, “This is insane, Brad.”

  “I have a pool. You can swim.”

  A smile touched her lips. “Bribery is so unfair.”

  “I never claimed to be fair,” he said. “Just honest.”

  “That you did.” His offer was so very tempting.

  “You know you want to,” Brad said. “And you owe me. I waited until Karen left before walking to my truck.”

  “Okay. Fine. What time?”

  “Do you have my number in your phone?”

  “Hold on.” Amanda checked to be sure. “Yeah. I got it.”