The Man For Me

by Gemma Bruce

  “Sure. She lives in a small town. You have to get along or you’ll be very lonely. She was a good wife, she’s a great mother and grandmother. She always puts her family first. Her church next. And then her friends. And Gran’s the same way. It may be old-fashioned. A dying way of life. But I think you can’t find a finer way to live than the way they do.”

  “It sounds nearly perfect.”

  “Not by a long shot. We fight and get into trouble, and make mistakes just like everybody else. More than everybody else probably.” He sighed. “You come from a big family. You know how it is.”

  J.T. shook her head. “Not really. We weren’t all that close. It was fine,” she added hurriedly. “But the Coach was always traveling. My brothers were always on some team or another. Mom drove a lot. We were regulars at drive-throughs, I can tell you.” She blushed, thinking of Tommy’s sister Grace.

  “Why do you call your dad the Coach?”

  “I don’t know. We always called him Coach. It sounds kind of strange, I guess, but it was just the way it was. The way he was. One hundred percent coach. All day. Every day. Quality time was watching him from the stands. Or watching him give my brothers pointers on how to play the game. It worked for us.”

  “And your mother?”

  “We planted impatiens once.” She stopped, horrified at how she sounded.

  She didn’t like the way Tommy was looking at her. It seemed to be awfully close to pity. She’d rather have him trying to seduce her.

  During dinner they’d kept up a comfortable conversation. But she didn’t want to talk anymore. She stood up and did something she’d never done in her life, she did the seducing.

  “Shall we clear this away and go on to the next course?” She held out her hand.

  It took a few seconds for Tommy to get it. When he did, he moved fast. “Forget the dishes.” He nearly fell out of his chair getting up; he took her hand, and pulled her toward the house. He stopped at the door.

  J.T. immediately pulled back. “What?”

  His breathing was studied. In and out, in and out, and J.T. began to get a sinking feeling.

  On another breath, Tommy said, “I’m trying to be a gentleman here. I…don’t want to scare you away.”

  “Scare me away? What are you talking about?”

  “Last night. I know I was too rough.”

  “You weren’t rough at all. You were…uh.” What? The best, greatest, everything I ever dreamed of and more?

  “What?”

  “It’s just…not you…not me…I just got spooked. Being out there on the field and stuff.”

  “Don’t have a sex in public fantasy?”

  Not in this lifetime.

  “You’re afraid of the dark?”

  She was afraid of a lot of things. The dark wasn’t one of them, but it was better than telling him she was afraid of ending up on the front page rolling naked with Tommy in the grass. “Yeah. A little.”

  He laughed. “You had me kind of worried.”

  The light shone from inside; the darkness enveloped them from behind.

  “Listen.” J.T. listened and soon the air was filled with noise. “What is it?”

  “Crickets.”

  She smiled up at him. He was so much more than she had ever considered.

  He traced her jawline with his fingers. Lifted her chin and kissed her. Gently. A different kiss than the others. Like a first kiss. He rubbed his lips lightly across hers. She could feel his smile and she smiled, too.

  His tongue flicked at her upper lip. Slowly she let him in.

  Chapter 21

  They might have stood at the door for hours. J.T. couldn’t imagine moving, but somehow they made it up the stairs and into the bedroom.

  She was vaguely aware of this room being different from the rest of the house. The bed was huge, took up almost the entire floor space. A giant widescreen television was the centerpiece of a media cupboard.

  But mainly she just saw Tommy, felt him, breathed him in.

  “How do you like it?” asked Tommy, coming up behind her and brushing her hair away from her neck. His question tickled her skin and she tilted her head so he could do it again.

  “It’s all so big.”

  “Uh-huh.” He nibbled on the sensitive skin at her nape. “I’ll try not to make any crass baseball jokes,” he said, and pushed his erection into the small of her back.

  She groaned. “But I may have to. I might even throw something in about the speed of your fast balls.”

  “What about my fast balls?” A puff of air against her cheeks. He was laughing and she realized that he hadn’t been doing a lot of that.

  “They match your big bat.” J.T. laughed. She couldn’t help herself. And suddenly her stretch top was over her head and on the floor and Tommy held her breasts in his hands.

  His thumbs played at the edge of the lace, slipped inside to run over her nipples, leaving them hard and tingling.

  He bit her neck. Not hard, just enough to send fire through the rest of her. “Tommy.”

  “Just keep saying that. My name never sounded so good.”

  His thumbs slipped out of her bra. He flattened his palms against her abdomen, slid down her ribs and dove beneath her leggings.

  “I love these clothes. No zippers.” He was working the pants down her thighs. “No buttons.” He licked her back.

  “Tommy.”

  “Good. Keep saying it. Don’t forget it.” He lifted her foot. Pulled off her shoe, then pushed the pants over her foot. Did the same with the other.

  She was down to her bra and thong. He was fully clothed. It put her at a disadvantage, if there could be any disadvantages when making love to Tommy.

  “Now me.” He turned her around. Placed her hands on his shirtfront. “I didn’t wear buttons, either. At least I left the shirt unbuttoned. Can’t say the same about the—” His breath caught as she began to unbuckle his belt. “Pants. That’s good. Start with the important stuff.”

  She managed to get the belt unhooked, though her fingers were trembling. She nearly tore the button off getting to the zipper. He didn’t help her, just stood grasping her shoulders.

  She bent down to open the zipper. Smiled.

  “What?”

  “I was remembering a certain cardboard cup holder.” The pants fell to his ankles.

  “Noticed that, huh?”

  “Hard to miss.” She pulled his boxers over his erection and they followed his slacks.

  “And getting harder by the second.” His voice was hoarse, the words strangled.

  “Hmmm,” she said. And licked the glistening tip of his cock.

  He bucked at the touch, nearly knocking her off her feet. He pulled her up, scooped her off her feet, and tossed her sideways on the bed.

  He whipped off his shirt, opened the bedside table drawer, extracted a condom in a whir of movement.

  J.T. started to move back to make room for him but he grabbed her ankles and pulled her toward him until her butt was at the edge of the mattress and her feet hung over the sides.

  He yanked her thong down her legs and tossed it behind him. He sheathed himself and pushed her legs apart. He knelt between them. “Put your legs over my shoulders.”

  She did and he rose until her knees bent at right angles and she could see the top of his gleaming hair. She could feel his breath on the wet spot between her thighs and bit her lip to keep from writhing out of control.

  Then his tongue touched her and she couldn’t contain her reaction. She lifted to him. His hands came around to her stomach. Held her while he licked into her. A cry broke from her.

  “Too hard?”

  “No. More.”

  He licked her again. Kissed her. Sucked her into his mouth and released her. He teased her and tormented her until she couldn’t stand it. She tried to pull him up, but he shook her off. And she could see him on the pitching mound shaking off the catcher. He knew what he wanted to do and he was going to do it his own way.

 
She leaned back and let him do it.

  His hands worked their way up to her breasts and she realized she was still wearing her bra.

  He took a breast in each hand. Kneaded them, until the friction of the lace warred with the rasp of his tongue, sending her higher, winding her tighter.

  She lost track of time and thought, entered a second of total calm as she reached the peak, then hurtled over the top.

  Tommy slipped her legs off his shoulder, wrapped them around his waist, and he was inside her. He braced his hands on either side of her head and looked down at her. She gripped his shoulders and convulsed around him.

  “Too fast,” he groaned before he shot into her, filling her with warmth.

  He collapsed to his elbows and kissed her. Taking up with his tongue where his cock had left off. Invading her mouth, thrusting into it until she wondered if tongues could orgasm.

  Her legs began to shake and he pulled out. Letting her legs slip from around his waist. He tossed back the down comforter and she crawled underneath. While Tommy got rid of the condom, J.T. snuggled into his bed.

  The nightstand drawer was still open. There were a lot of condoms left.

  Tommy lay with J.T. nestled at his side. Her head fit perfectly into the curve of his shoulder. Her hair fell over her face and tickled his chest. One arm was draped across his waist like it belonged there.

  Tommy felt more contented than he’d felt in a long time. He’d just given up life as he knew it for a future that opened like an empty page before him. But with J.T. lying beside him, he felt only optimism.

  And he tried not to think that she would be leaving in a matter of days.

  J.T. sighed and he held her more tightly, as if he could keep her in his bed until morning. But he knew she’d soon be demanding that he drive her back to the Night n Day. He wouldn’t be surprised if she made him stop at the end of the block and let her walk the rest of the way.

  He smiled to himself. She was trying so hard to be taken seriously, and he figured it must be difficult. He knew her—more or less—and he’d seen how competent she was. But he also knew her well enough to know that she wasn’t satisfied.

  “What does J.T. stand for?”

  “Hmmm?”

  “J.T. I’m guessing the J stands for Jessica.”

  “Score one for you,” she said dryly, and nuzzled against him and closed her eyes.

  “So what does the T stand for?”

  “You don’t want to know.”

  He rolled over, pinning her body with his. He pushed her eyelid up with his index finger. “Yeah, I do. Tell me.”

  She batted his hand away. “If you must know, it’s Jessica Tiffany.”

  He barked out a laugh. “You’re kidding.”

  “No. I think it was Mother’s way of getting revenge for living in a house full of jocks. My two older brothers were named Roger and Joe after—surprise, surprise—Maris and DiMaggio. Unfortunately, she didn’t think ahead to what it would mean to me.”

  “Jessica Tiffany. I like it. J.T. Green sounds like a fullback for the Washington Redskins.”

  She shifted against him. “That’s sort of the point. Nobody takes a Jessica Tiffany seriously unless you’re selling cosmetics or have a cooking show.”

  He tugged a strand of her hair. “I’d take you seriously.” Actually, he was beginning to take her too seriously. “And your father didn’t mind? Hell, you’re lucky you weren’t named Willie or Yogi.”

  “God forbid. The Coach was the one who started calling me J.T. He could never seem to get Jessica out without choking.”

  “Oh, come on, you can’t tell me you weren’t Daddy’s little girl.”

  “I was for a while. He even coached me at T-ball. Then Mickey, Mom’s ‘little surprise’ came along and it was good-bye, ponytail league. Hello, Little League.”

  “And you’ve been trying to please him ever since.” J.T. pushed him onto his back, rose up to one elbow, and looked down at him. “Do you always offer psychoanalysis after good sex?”

  He pulled her back down so that she lay across him, and wrapped both arms around her. “It was good, wasn’t it?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “I bet we can make it even better.” His hands caressed her back, cupped her butt, and he pulled her full weight onto him. But before he could lift her, so that he could enter her, she was sliding down his body, her tongue tracing a line down his neck, following the groove in his chest. Detouring to sketch the line of his surgery scar, drawing circles around his nipples, counting his ribs with her tongue.

  He was ready and half-crazed when she got to where she was going. His cock lifted as she ran her tongue down the ridge, then back up again. He stretched and arched up to her as her mouth sucked in the tip, and Tommy’s world pinpointed to that one small source of pleasure.

  He speared his fingers through her hair as she coaxed him toward climax. He didn’t want it to end, but he didn’t think he could last much longer without coming into her mouth.

  And he wanted to come inside her, even with a condom barring him from completely claiming her for himself.

  Caveman, he thought. Lose the caveman mentality. You don’t claim women. If anything, they claim you. Then his mind went blank as he toppled over the precipice. He tried not to thrust as he pumped himself into that inviting, moist mouth and she sucked him until he was jerking and dry beneath her.

  She slid to his side and moved back up him until she was once again resting in the cradle of his shoulder. He wanted to say something, tell her something, but his mind had shorted out.

  So he kissed her, starting with the top of her head, her forehead, her eyes, her nose, and finally coming to her mouth. She tasted pungent and tart and he licked his own smell from her.

  Her arms were flung over her head. Her legs were open and inviting. Abandoned, uninhibited, vulnerable, and Tommy knew for a certainty that he was falling in love.

  “Do you think that Mayor Wiggins will really try to negate your contract with his mother?”

  “He can try but he won’t win,” said Tommy, wondering how she could go so quickly from mind-blowing, marathon sex to reporter mode. He could hardly form a thought.

  “He threatened you.”

  “Just posturing.” J.T. shivered.

  Tommy pulled up the covers.

  “What will happen to the Beavers, when you build your complex?”

  “Do you ever stop thinking like a reporter?”

  She sat up. The covers fell to her waist and Tommy had a hard time concentrating on what she was saying.

  “You can care and still be a reporter. I care about the Beavers.”

  “I didn’t mean that you couldn’t. I’ll help the Beavers within my budget, but in case you haven’t noticed, I’m unemployed.”

  “You can pay yourself from the foundation.”

  “I will—eventually.”

  “Well, if I were you, I’d start campaigning for donations right now.”

  “Before I’m a dim memory,” said Tommy.

  She shrugged. “It was your decision. People are people. They remember what’s in front of them. So you should put your face and the foundation out there for them to see.”

  “You want to run the ad campaign for me?” He stopped, realizing that he’d just invited her into his future. He hadn’t meant to do that. Yet. And he was so shocked that he couldn’t even backpedal, just sat there like a fool, waiting to see what her answer would be.

  It was long in coming and he wondered if she were trying to figure out exactly what his offer entailed.

  They were hot together. Searing. Major physical attraction. He was afraid it might be more. He shouldn’t want it to be more.

  He was pretty sure he shouldn’t be making any more life-changing decisions so soon on the heels of his retirement. He didn’t trust his head to stay clear when she was around. He had too much work to do for that kind of distraction. But another part of him was saying, Wouldn’t it be so much better with someone to share
it with?

  He’d better stop thinking like that or he’d be paying for it, just like he’d paid for it with Cheryl Lynn. He’d been young and full of himself in those days. He was smarter now. But he also knew that what he was feeling for J.T. went beyond infatuation.

  It included admiration, for her intensity, for the way she threw herself into helping with the kids, how she’d taken Kurtz on and slammed a base hit that anyone could be proud of. Bernie had told him she’d visited Sanchez in the hospital every day. And if the article he’d read in her motel room was anything like the other pages, she was talented and compassionate.

  And suddenly he couldn’t imagine life without her.

  “I don’t know how to do that,” J.T. said matter-of-factly as if he hadn’t just had a gigantic, panic-inducing epiphany. “But I can keep you before the public eye.”

  What was she talking about?

  “Sports Today has a circulation of several million readers. And maybe some other magazines. I’ve been thinking about branching out for a while and I could do a few articles on the community center. I don’t think Skinny would mind if I did a little freelancing.”

  Which meant she hadn’t even considered not going back to Atlanta. Well why should she?

  “That would be great,” said Tommy, masking his disappointment as best he could. Of course, she was going back. Hell, they’d known each other for less than two weeks. They’d barely reached the affair stage. He wasn’t ready to rush into anything permanent. And from her reaction, neither was J.T. In fact, it didn’t seem that she’d even considered the possibility.

  Tommy was so used to cutting and running that he didn’t know how to react to that revelation. He needed more time.

  “Sleep on it. But before you do, could you take me back to the motel?”

  Here it came. Tommy glanced at the clock by the bed. It was after three. She’d be at the ballpark first thing. He had work to do. And yet…

  “Sure you don’t want to stay?”

  “I’d love to but—”

  “Sure, get dressed. I’ll take you home,” he said, wondering if there was a way to keep her spot on the bed warm until he got back.