Out of Left Field

by Morgan Kearns

  He liked Christian. Now. Now that he knew her best friend wasn’t after Frankie’s heart and now that she wore his ring on her finger.

  When she came running out of the house one-hundred and eighteen seconds later, she continued to stuff the remnants of her have-to-haves into a bag. “Sorry I couldn’t find my garter belt.”

  He groaned, images of her in the particular article of clothing flashed through his mind.

  She laughed. “Just kidding.” He allowed himself to breathe, until she continued to giggle, an evil, torturous gleam in her eyes. “It was exactly where I knew it’d be.”

  Every part of him tightened, hardened. This most certainly would be the longest hour and a half of his entire freakin’ life. And she damned well knew it.

  She put her hand high on his thigh and his foot jammed the pedal to the metal. Maybe they could make it in an hour.

  ***

  “I guess we should look on a map and figure out where Shayne works.”

  Xavier’s eyes popped wide. Was she kidding?! He stalked across their motel room and took his wife in his arms. “That can wait.”

  There wasn’t a single emotion on her beautiful face, but he saw the humor in her eyes as she asked, “Oh, are you too tired? You need a nap?”

  He slapped her bottom. “You’re playing with fire, Wife.”

  “I like fire, Husband.”

  He grabbed each side of the button up shirt she’d changed into back at the church and ripped every single button off the damn thing. They flew in every which direction. He looked forward to coming face to breast with his new wife, but it appeared she had other ideas.

  “Why are you wearing that?”

  “What?” She shrugged. “I like wearing a tank top under my clothes.”

  He knew that to be truth, but seriously! “No more. You are forbidden to wear tank tops under your clothes.”

  One blond brow rose, daring him. “Forbidden, huh?”

  “Yep. And no bras either.”

  She laughed and ducked around him. “You stay right here. I’m going to change … into something more comfortable. But don’t you take off one stitch of clothing.” She pointed her finger at him. “Do you understand?”

  He sat down on the edge of the bed, laying back to rest on his elbows. His smile put the Grand Canyon to shame. “I’ll be right here.”

  She grabbed the bag she’d packed and ran into the bathroom. He could hear the toilet and the sink, a few minutes passed, then the door opened again.

  Frankie stepped out and Xavier thought he’d died and gone to heaven. It wasn’t the skimpy white lacey bra and matching panties sucking the breath out of his lungs. It wasn’t the white stockings attached to the garter belt she’d talked about earlier making his entire body throb.

  It was the Rockets jersey draped across her shoulders, hanging open to her knees that brought tears to his eyes. She danced around in a dainty twirl, showing off his name on her back. He swallowed hard, blinked and did the only thing he could. Between one heartbeat and the next he launched himself off the bed and across the room to stand in front of her. He took each side of the jersey in a hand and pulled her close. His fingers curled into the fabric. His growl of approval and appreciation rumbled low in his throat.

  “I like seein’ you wearin’ my name.”

  She smiled and eased up on her toes to bring her lips next to his. “I thought it only right I wear your name on the night I made it mine.”

  “You planned this?”

  “Uh-huh. I bought it right after we got home from Boston.”

  “But you ignored me after we got home from Boston.”

  “I tried.” She touched a finger to her temple. “But you were always right here.” She placed his hand over her heart. “And right here. You grabbed hold tight and, no matter what I tried to tell myself, you refused to let go. Thank you for being stubborn, Husband.”

  Possession for this woman consumed him. He slipped his hand up her chest, over her breast, easing the jersey out of the way to cradle her neck in his palm. He held her steady, ran his thumb over her freckles and kissed her.

  She initiated the tangle of tongues and he moaned as she ground herself against him. He slid his hands down her back, groaning as they came into contact with bare cheeks. Apparently, her panties only had fabric in the front. Nice. He grinned against her mouth.

  “You are so sexy.”

  “And you are wearing too many clothes.”

  Her fingers teased under his t-shirt. He hissed, a shiver slithering over his skin. Goosebumps covered him from head to toe.

  “Damn, woman, your hands are cold.”

  Her husky giggle held torturous promise. “I guess you’ll just have to warm me up.”

  Her hands flattened against his abs, pushing up, exploring while easing his shirt heavenward. The icy wake of her little sight-seeing expedition unraveled him. He whipped the shirt over his head and chucked it across the room. Putting one arm around her back, tugged her close and held her chest-to-breast. She kissed his chest, nuzzled his pecs, but when she closed her teeth on his nipple, he lost control.

  She bounced on the mattress and laughed. Her eyes darkened to deep sapphire as she watched him shed his clothes in record time. The admiration in her gaze heated him. Self consciousness engulfed him. He dropped his hands in front of his swollen groin, surprised by the need to hide from her. She’d seen him naked, of course, but not fully aroused.

  “Oh, no, you don’t.” She shook her head and purposefully looked at his hands.

  A dark, deep growl rumbled up from his toes and before her tongue completed the sweep of her lower lip, he was on her.

  His lips slammed into hers. He angled his head to deepen the kiss and her tongue joined him thrust for thrust. She dug her fingers into his nape, her nails scoring his scalp. As he moved down to taste her neck, her hands raked down, biting into his back.

  She raised her hips, pressing herself against him. He eased away from her. The passion in her eyes fueled his blood like nothing ever had. This woman belonged to him. Saved herself for him.

  Honored. Completely and utterly honored.

  “We need to slow down.” His rough, ragged voice showed exactly how much this time-out had cost him.

  Another hip grind accompanied her grin. “I’ll be fine.”

  “But you’re—”

  “A doctor.” She raised up on her elbows, bringing them nose to nose. “I may not have the practical training, but I sure as hell know the technical side of things.” She kissed him. “You won’t hurt me.”

  He wasn’t so sure. In about a second and half he might burst into flames. Or lose himself like a horny teenager. Or, even worse, take her so hard and fast neither of them would be able to walk for a week.

  She dipped her fingertips into the barely-there lace of her thong and eased it down her hips. Her sweet, tender smile broke his heart. “Don’t you think I’ve waited long enough?”

  With every part of him aching, wanting, needing, he lowered himself to her. He kissed her lips, nuzzling his way to her ear. “Put your legs around my waist.”

  As she wrapped those long, sexy legs around his hips, he was lost.

  He’d never considered going to heaven—or that the place even existed—but as he slid inside the woman he loved more than he ever thought possible, he knew. Not a doubt in his mind. Heaven existed all right, and he held it in his arms.

  Her blue eyes glistened and as she blinked, a tear slipped down her cheek. She shook her head, reading his thoughts. “No. I’m fine. Just move.”

  And whatdyaknow? he followed directions like a champ.

  Frankie met each movement, lifting her hips to greet him in a gentle, rocking communion. He’d never done the tender thing, never thought himself capable. And he’d never made love. He looked forward to taking her like a sex-craved-lunatic, but slow and gentle had benefits he could get used to.

  Her soft moans rocked his world, inching him closer to the edge. His release built,
coiling, preparing to shatter him. He breathed deep, sweat beading on his brow. He’d never waited for a woman to finish first, never cared if she finished at all. But once again, he found himself caring more about Frankie than himself.

  Her legs tightened on his hips, her heels digging into the back of his thighs. She whispered his name on a low moan, the ‘s’ stretching on forever. Deep inside she gripped him. Hard.

  With victory roaring in his gut, he followed her over the cliff, enjoying every second of the free-fall. Never in his life had a woman’s name crossed his lips upon completion. Until now.

  Pressing her into the bed, he collapsed. Breath rushed from his lungs in exerted puffs. He ran his nose up her neck and nibbled her ear. She sighed, digging her heels into his backside. He grinned.

  His little wife might be inexperienced, but she was a natural. He would enjoy showing her the many ways he could love her. And who knew, maybe she could show him a thing or two, too.

  ***

  Frankie woke up the next morning, feeling an exquisite soreness that made her want to wake up her husband. She wasn’t sure she’d ever been so content, so happy. If this was what it meant to be married, she couldn’t wait to do it the rest of her life. She shifted and stretched.

  He kissed her shoulder and eased her against him. “Good morning, Mrs. Xavier.”

  She smiled. “Good morning, Mr. Xavier.”

  “You okay?”

  “I’m wonderful.” She felt like a cat seeking a scratch. Her soft backside made contact with his very hard front side and he hissed. “How are you?”

  “Horny.” He ground against her. “Have you ever had sex in the shower?”

  Of course she hadn’t. And he knew it. She’d only had sex with him and they hadn’t made it out of the bed. Well, unless you counted the chair or against the wall. She felt herself blush. Okay, so they just hadn’t ventured into the bathroom yet.

  He whipped the blankets away and goose bumps blossomed on her skin. She still wore the jersey, although everything else had been stripped away during their activities the night before. He’d said he’d waited a long time to see his jersey on a woman he loved. He scooped her into his arms and headed into the bathroom, kicking the door closed.

  It turned out to be lunchtime before they were ready to leave their room. After making love in the shower with her back against the cold tile and again with her butt on the cool bathroom counter, they’d put the bed to good use a few more times.

  Man, she’d really been missing out.

  In the short time she’d been having sex, she’d learned to love loving her husband. She imagined it wouldn’t be the same with another man, and knew she’d never find out. She sat on the edge of the bed, dressed in a white sundress, slipping her sandals on, the same ones she hadn’t gotten to wear in Boston.

  He came out of the bathroom tugging a shirt over his head. His pants were zipped, but not buttoned. Heat blossomed in her every cell. She had intimate knowledge of the line that disappeared beneath the zipper and she couldn’t think of anything better than another journey down his very happy trail.

  “If you don’t stop lookin’ at me like that, we’re never going to get out of this room.”

  She blushed and concentrated on the buckle on her shoe. His bare feet came into view. His hands on her elbows encouraged her to stand and when she did, he kissed her. She loved kissing him. His lips were the perfect combination of hard and gentle, sexy and sweet. She’d never get enough of this perfect man, her husband.

  “It wasn’t a reprimand, my love.” He nuzzled his nose against her neck. “Just fact. You make me crazy.”

  “The feeling is mutual.” She clamped her teeth down on the muscle in his neck and he groaned.

  “Seriously, woman, we’ve got things to do today.”

  “I’d prefer you just did me today,” she teased, knowing they needed to track Shayne down.

  He slapped her on the butt. “Finish getting that pretty ass of yours dressed.”

  She waited until they were headed out the door with everything in hand to inform him, “Oh, and I thought you might wanna know I’m not wearing panties on my pretty ass.”

  ***

  Frankie was going to kill him. No doubt about it, he would keel over any second. How did she expect him to even think about finding his sister when he knew she had nothing on under that sexy little dress?

  They walked into the diner and sat down. A woman approached and Xavier knew he’d found her. Her dark auburn hair was the same color he remembered, and when she smiled, her deep brown eyes twinkled, warm and friendly.

  “What can I get for you to drink?”

  Xavier couldn’t speak, couldn’t think.

  Thankfully, Frankie still held the capacity for both. “Water is fine.”

  Actually Xavier needed a shot of something stronger than water. Vodka, tequila, whiskey. Hell, just set him up with an IV.

  Shayne smiled and Xavier saw the chubby cheeks and tiny, baby teeth of her youth. He clamped his jaw closed as tears pricked his eyes. He’d never stopped loving the baby sister who’d been ripped out of his life. Her expression tightened and she looked at Frankie, then back at him.

  “Take your time looking at the menus. I’ll be back with your drinks in a second.”

  Frankie muttered a thanks, then leaned over the table to whisper, “You’re freakin’ her out. Hell, you’re freakin’ me out. Be cool.”

  He could only watch as his sister went behind the counter and filled up a couple of plastic glasses with ice then added some water. “How did she end up working here?”

  “I don’t know, but if you don’t chill out, you’re never going to get the chance to ask.”

  Shayne slid the glasses onto the table. “What can I get for you?”

  “What,” he choked, cleared his throat and tried again, “What do you suggest?”

  The wary look in her eyes broke his heart. He didn’t want to freak her out, but couldn’t exactly help it. He’d completely freaked himself out.

  “Our special today is a turkey sandwich with honey mustard. It’s very good.”

  “I’ll take one of those.”

  She nodded. “Potato chips or French fries?”

  “Fries.”

  She scratched his choice on her pad. “Potato or macaroni salad or coleslaw.”

  “Macaroni salad is fine. Thank you.”

  She shifted her stance to face Frankie. “And for you?”

  “I’ll have the same.” Frankie’s sincere smile relaxed him. “Right down to the fries and salad. Thank you. What’s your name?”

  “Oh. I’m Shayne.” Her laugh was simply an older, more mature version of the one Xavier remembered. “I own the place. Where you from?”

  “Vegas.” Frankie reached across the table and took Xavier’s hand. Her touch grounded him, captured the string on his wayward balloon.

  Shayne nodded. “What brings you here?”

  Frankie laughed. “Actually, we’re on our honeymoon.”

  Shayne looked from Frankie to Xavier and back again. “Shut up! You came to Kingman for your honeymoon?” She burst out into laughter and Xavier couldn’t help but smile. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard that before.”

  “We do have another reason for coming to Kingman on our honeymoon.” Frankie squeezed his hand and he heard the whistle of the bomb dropping. He watched Shayne’s face and waited for the kaboom! “We’re looking for someone.”

  Shayne’s brows crinkled and her dark eyes narrowed. “Who are you looking for?”

  “You.”

  Shayne’s expression went deer-in-the-headlights and only Frankie’s hold on his hand kept him from leaping to his feet. “Wh- what do you want with me?”

  Xavier cleared his throat and her panicked eyes roamed over his face, his big body. “My name is Matthias Xavier III.”

  Her eyes narrowed even more, becoming only slits. She turned her head a bit, tilted it to the side. He felt like an ant under a microscope with a beam of
sunlight aimed directly at him. Any second now he would—

  “Xavier?”

  He pursed his lips, sucked in a breath and nodded. “And if I’m not mistaken you’re name is Shayne Xavier. You’re thirty years old. Your birthday is September first.” Another deep breath. “You’re my sister.”

  At the declaration, Shayne didn’t say anything. She didn’t react. Hell, she didn’t even move, except to blink. Seconds ticked by.

  She blinked again. “What kind of game are you playing?”

  He stood and she stepped back like she might be scared of him. He held up his hands. “No game.”

  “Then what are you doing here?” She glanced around at the diner. “I don’t have anything.”

  The insinuation stung. “I assure you, I want nothing from you. Financially.”

  Her breath hitched. Her eyes narrowed. “Then what exactly do you want?”

  He stared at the clean, white floor tiles for a very long time. His eyes stung and he tried to blink the evidence of his feelings away before chancing another look at her again. “The only thing I want from you, Shayne, is a relationship with my sister.”

  Tears shimmered in her eyes. Her head tipped from one side to the other. She bit down on her lip and her eyes searched his face. She’d been little, barely four, when she and her mother left.

  A sob burst from her chest. The anguish in the sound breaking his heart. So much time had been stolen from them.

  “Matty?”

  He nodded.

  “It’s been a long time.”

  “Yes, it has.” He held a hand out to Frankie, helping her slide out of the bench to stand at his side. “This is Frankie.”

  Frankie extended her hand and smiled. “It’s very nice to meet you.”

  Xavier knew how a bug under a microscope felt as Shayne looked from Frankie to him, back and forth, finally letting her gaze settle on him.