by Ashley Ladd
Archie smiled, and then grimaced as he repositioned himself higher, his sheets bunching in his lap. “Dang hospital gowns won’t close in the back. Give me a hand with the pillows, would ya?”
Haley and Cole grabbed the same pillow simultaneously and their fingers touched. Static electricity sparked at the juncture and she jerked back. Cole sizzled, but busied himself fluffing and rearranging the older man’s bed until he was comfortable.
Uneasiness still hung in the air and Cole wondered why. When he’d parted from Haley two mornings before, he’d left her with quite an erotic kiss and the promise of many more. There’d been no anger, nothing bad. Yet now, she acted skittish, guilty and even suspicious. He racked his brain for any event that had happened since to cause her change in behavior. The only thing he could come up with was the mention of his mystery woman. She was jealous, unsure of him. That had to be it.
Unless she was guilty because she was interested in the ancient cop…
He suppressed a growl. He’d set her straight. A few kisses, kid gloves, and she’d be gazing at him with adoration in her eyes again. And he’d have to show her just what she meant to him, every night if necessary.
“Here, put this next to the cookies, would ya?” Archie held out the plant.
Cole did as bade, but the sight of Haley’s cookies tortured him. Could they be from the same batter he’d licked off her? That she’d licked off him? His groin swelled unbearably, straining against his zipper. He took a cookie and nibbled it, remembering her exquisite flavor. Crumbs clung to his lips. Knowing Haley’s steamy gaze was riveted on him, he licked them off slowly as he raised his gaze to hers. He made his message loud and clear. She was his, and they would be together, alone, soon, with just the cookie dough.
The air was so thick he could barely breathe. He didn’t know if he could wait until after the games to ravage her again, to drink of her sugary lips.
Brad shuffled his feet and glared at his watch. “We have to get going. We have a tournament in an hour.”
“I sorta figured you had a game else you all wouldn’t look like bumblebees.” Archie yawned and patted his mouth. “Win the game for me.”
Cole hoped he could run in his present awkward position, hoped he could focus on the ball when Haley dominated his thoughts.
“Come on.” Cole tilted his head toward the door. “Let’s let the old man nap. We have a game to win.” He shook Archie’s hand and grinned. “We’ll stop back soon.”
Cole caught Haley’s hand, linking his fingers through hers pulled her into the hallway. Firecrackers exploded through him, and it was all he could do not to haul her into a private room and bed her. There was no way he’d last through the day without making love to her. “I’ll ride with Haley,” Cole said in a ragged voice. “Go on without me.”
Brad stopped, scowling. “We came in your car. That’ll be a bit difficult.”
Cole dug in his shorts pocket, pulled out his keys, and tossed them to Brad without warning. “Take my car.”
Haley shuddered beside him, her breath short, her palm clammy. She squeezed his hand, curling her magical fingers around his suggestively.
Brad arched an eyebrow, closed his hand around the keys, and marched off, his cleats squeaking on the waxed floor. “If you’re late, you’re a dead man.”
Yeah, yeah. Cole had heard the idle threats before. Of course, Brad took his softball deadly serious.
Cole noticed a cleaning woman emerge from an empty room with fresh sheets.
Um…fresh sheets and Haley.
Surreptitiously, he checked the room number against the patient board behind the nurse’s station. The beds were empty and wicked thoughts overrode his logic. When the hall was clear, he tugged Haley’s hand, pulled her into the room and closed the door behind them. He blocked the door with a chair and pulled the privacy curtain.
“You crazy? What’re you doing?” She gasped, half-laughing, blushing profusely. Her accusatory gaze examined the room and then fell back on him. In a hushed whisper, she said, “We’re not supposed to be in here.”
“That makes it all the more exciting.” Starved for her taste, aching to plunge himself deep inside her feverish warmth, to feel her squirm beneath him, he backed her against the bed until the backs of her knees pressed against the mattress. There was no time for guile or games, only seduction. Unable to stop himself, he plundered her lips with his kisses.
Against his lips, shaking with mirth, she murmured, “I thought you were into upholding the law.”
“Right now, I’m much more interested in something else that’s up.” His cock chafed inside its prison, pressing against her, longing to get out.
“You’re soooo bad,” she hissed, tugging at his shirt while devilish delight danced in her eyes.
Obliging her, cracking a crooked grin, he lifted his hands high above his head and let her pull off the constrictive clothing. Then he returned the favor and lifted her shirt off.
He nipped her ear, and then ran his tongue along her lobe, reveling in her delicious shudders. “That’s not what you were screaming the other night.”
Ooh! He really was so very bad. How she loved it!
She pulled back enough to gaze up at him, batting her lashes coquettishly. “I thought you were too busy eating cookie dough to notice.”
“Believe me, baby, I noticed.” Feverish to feel her bare flesh, his hands freed her breasts from their bonds. Fascinated by her pert nipples, he rubbed one between his thumb and forefinger. Unable to resist a moment longer, he bent and suckled the other one. Around the intoxicating mouthful, he murmured, “So very beautiful.”
Arching against him, she moaned and pressed her breast deeper into his mouth. She clung, rubbing her pussy against his cock. “I can’t believe we’re doing this.”
Dragging her back against him, he tucked her against his heart, immensely pleased at the perfect fit. Lowering his head, he captured her lips and drank deeply.
She gasped into his mouth, exciting him beyond control. They fumbled with each other’s shorts and when she slipped her hand around his cock, he scooped her up and deposited her on the nearest bed.
He climbed on the bed and pulled his shorts to his ankles, not taking them all the way off in case he had to redress in a hurry, and then he mounted her, grateful she already had her shorts down.
She was all pinkness, heat, and moisture, lustier than during their all-night marathon, and he couldn’t resist the succulent hottie. He ran the pad of his thumb over her clit until she quaked with desire. Slipping a finger inside her pussy when she arched against his hand, he grunted with approval that her juices flowed hot and ready for him.
“Now.” Her voice raw with emotion, her fingers wound around his throbbing cock and tugged it gently but insistently. “Stop teasing me.”
She needn’t worry about waiting another second as he was beyond stopping, incapable of rational thought. Wanting to pleasure his lady, to stoke her fire, he buried his face in her mound and licked her swollen, inviting labia, lapping her ambrosia. Her silky hair tickled his nose as she bucked against him. If they had time, he’d bring her to orgasm with his tongue first, and then again in several other ways, but time was short.
With great reluctance, he pulled away from her mons and feathered kisses up her flat stomach, to her gorgeous breasts and then enfolded her in his arms. “Tonight.” Still tasting her fragrance on his lips, he traced her lips with his fingertip. She had such enticing, lovely lips.
Disappointment flared in her eyes. “Tonight? You’re going to leave me like this? You should be locked up in your own jail.”
He treated the minx to his sternest glare as he climbed on top of her and nuzzled his cock against her silken nest. Parting her swollen pussy lips with his cock, he murmured against her lips, “There’s no way I can wait for this.”
She spread her legs wider to welcome him inside and then wrapped them around him, squeezing him tightly to her once his entire length slid deep inside.
> Heaven.
She sheathed him with her incredibly tight muscles as he pumped furiously into her. They didn’t have time for long and slow so a fast burn would have to tide them over ‘til he could languish in her love later tonight.
The bed creaked under their frantic rhythm as his cock drove deep into her with a wild, abandoned fury he couldn’t control. He hoped no one could hear them on the other side of the door.
She stroked him and ran her fingernails down his back. Cupping his buttocks in her hands, she pulled him deeper into her. Opening her mouth wide, her tongue dueled with his.
Waves of rapture flooded him, and ravenous to spend all his seed, he plundered her pussy. When she quivered with lust, roman candles exploded inside him, and they clung to one another.
Her glasses tumbled off and for an instant, she reminded him of someone else. He stared at her for a moment, puzzled, but unable to explain the feeling of déjà vu.
A cold emotionless page from over the hospital’s PA system woke him from his stupor and he shook off the disturbing feeling. Helping her up, he muttered huskily, “Come on, baby. We’d better get going before we’re discovered.”
She tossed him a saucy grin, and licked her lips slowly and deliberately. “Do we have to go to the game? I could whip up more cookie batter…”
He sat up and stopped her words with a lingering, demanding kiss. Against her lips, he mumbled, “Stop tempting me, babe. You know I could do this all day and night. But the team needs us.”
She fluttered her flirtatious lashes, leaned forward and traced his swollen lips with her fingertip. “I need you more. The team’ll survive. They’re big boys.”
With his last vestige of willpower, he hoisted himself off the bed. Without looking at her, he pulled up his pants and snapped them with a resounding closure. “Tonight,” he promised, counting the seconds until she would fill him with rapture again.
She wriggled into her shorts, her cute fanny disappearing into them. He could swear she put on a show for him. How could he have ever thought her dull? Life would never be boring with such a temptress.
He wadded up the sheets, and then unmade the second bed so it looked as if housekeeping had overlooked the room. He avoided looking at Haley, at her swollen, obviously ravished lips, at her nipples straining against her bright yellow T-shirt, at those long, luscious legs that could clamp around him so tightly.
He swallowed a groan. He had it bad for her. She was a fever in his blood. Worse, she knew it, and he couldn’t deny it. Not after this. Nor did he want to. He just wanted to stay in her bed, in her arms, inside her, loving her forever.
Stealthily, he peeked out the door, scoping out the hallway. “All clear,” he called in a stage whisper, waving her on. He closed the door behind him, and captured her hand, unable to stop touching her. He hoped their team couldn’t tell what they’d been up to, but if he had the same stars in his eyes that shone in hers, it was inevitable. He couldn’t stop smiling either. God, he must look pathetic! He was a goner. Next thing he knew, he’d be trading in his cleats for a diaper bag, mowing the lawn every weekend, and walking a Great Dane.
Haley repaired her lipstick and combed her hair before starting the car. Her curls bounced around her face becomingly, the bright morning sun painting golden streaks through them.
“Lipstick won’t hide the fact that you’ve been well and truly kissed.” He trailed his fingertips teasingly down her arm as she drove.
“Stop that, or you’ll make me wreck! Then you can’t play with a broken—”
“Arm?” he interrupted, dragging her hand to his lips so he could kiss every knuckle. “Then I’ll be on disability, and we can play in bed all day long, every day like you want.”
She trembled and murmured huskily, “I had something else in mind. Besides, I’d still have to work. You’d be in that bed alone, all day.”
“Ouch!” He released her hand. His groin tingled, and he covered it protectively.
Since he couldn’t touch her, he studied her. For the life of him, she still reminded him of someone, and it really bothered him that he couldn’t figure it out. At times, he almost made the connection only to have it fade, just out of his grasp, leaving him frustrated.
For a second, without her glasses back there, Haley had looked like his mystery woman. He peered closer, squinting. The two women were similar of shape and stature. Their faces were of a similar bone structure.
His gut clenched. Haley couldn’t be his heroine in black, could she? That was impossible, wasn’t it? For one, Haley had blonde curly hair and blue eyes. His Catwoman had long, silky straight, mahogany hair and milk chocolaty eyes. His Haley was the warm, Suzie-homemaker type, always baking cookies and visiting sick friends in the hospital, not the wild-child, avenging-angel type who raced around on motorcycles daring criminals and laughing danger in the face.
No, it had just been wishful thinking that his Haley and his mystery woman were one and the same. He sighed, praying the mystery woman never came face to face with Haley, or there could be hell to pay. But then he never knew when she would show up. For all he knew, she might make an appearance at the tournament today.
Haley pulled into the Mills Pond softball complex and parked. The field was large even by Ft. Lauderdale standards with six fields and huge floodlights that could be seen for miles along I-95.
“There they are.” Cole pointed to their team warming up on Field Five. “We’re in time.”
Haley grinned. “Good. Brad won’t kill you after all.” Grimacing, she yanked on the safety brake.
Brad and Cindy waved to them, as they sipped from perspiring cans of beer. Cindy had pulled her long hair into a ponytail and looked like a ten-year-old.
Brad’s softball cap sat low on his forehead, shading his eyes from the bright noonday Florida sun. He tapped his watch with his forefinger. “It’s ‘bout time, Fischer. What took you two so long? I’ve been here hours.”
Haley veiled her eyes and drew pictures in the dirt with her toe, pretending she didn’t hear the question. Her bright blush told its own story, however.
Cole tried to keep his expression and tone of voice neutral. He yanked Brad’s cap over his eyes. “Chill! We made it in time. We stopped by the store, that’s all.”
“Col-ie!” Dwight yelled, waving his arms over his head as if he were a football referee. “You forgot to tell me about the tournament.” Cole’s father trotted up to them, panting from the exertion. When he reached Cole, he rested his arm around his son’s shoulders. “If it wasn’t for Bradley here, I wouldn’t have known about it. You should thank your friend for filling me in, or I’d have missed your game.”
Oh yeah, he’d be sure to thank Brad all right. Cole bit back a groan when he noted his father’s neon pink shirt with a picture of himself sitting on one of his “thrones” with the title “Toilet King” in bold black letters underneath. His father lived to embarrass him. “Did you have to wear that shirt today, Pops?”
Dwight beamed and clapped him on the shoulder, almost knocking him over. “Thanks for reminding me, son. I’m your team’s new sponsor. I have one of these for each of you. I’ll just go get them so you can put them on.”
Deep fear struck Cole in the heart. He’d be ruined. “No! I can’t wear that. I-I mean that you shouldn’t have gone to such expense and trouble—”
“That tweren’t nothin’.” Dwight dragged him over to the portable toilet and stood before it proudly. “Ta-da! Look!”
“Look at what?” Cole dreaded asking his father anything to do with promoting his business. Then he saw it—the huge Toilet King logo on the side of every portable toilet surrounding the fields.
“They’re beautiful, aren’t they?” A tear slid from Dwight’s eye and he sniffed. “I’m so happy your friend called and asked me to underwrite your tournament. And it’s great exposure for the business since I’ll be relocating to Ft. Lauderdale.”
Cole smacked his ears and shook his head. He couldn’t have heard what h
e just thought he heard. The gods couldn’t hate him so much, could they? Brad was a dead man! It wasn’t that he hated his father, quite the opposite, but the Toilet King embarrassed him to no end. He’d moved half a country away to escape it, and now it was going to follow him? How could fate be so cruel? He prayed he’d heard wrong. “What did you just say?”
“I’m moving down here. I put a down payment on a building and a house yesterday.” He turned Cole to face I-95 and spread his arm wide. “Imagine this. We’ll have father and son photos taken together. We’ll be on Toilet King billboards all up and down I-95, and on every major boulevard in Greater Ft. Lauderdale–Miami.” He wiped away another tear with the back of his hand. “It’ll be so beautiful. I’ve always dreamed of this moment when my first born, my one and only son, joined me at the helm.”
Oh, God! His dad couldn’t do this to him. He’d never wanted to be heir to the toilet throne. One of his many younger sisters could surely be the queen. Just because he was the only boy in the family didn’t mean he was the only heir. How could he get out of this without hurting his father? He searched his mind for a reason, aware Haley and his friends clung to his every word. “I-I can’t be in advertisements ‘cause I’m a cop. It’s not permitted.” Whew! He had slithered out of that one by a thread.
“Since you don’t need to be a cop anymore, you can take your rightful place at my side. We’ll be the most famous father and son team since George and George W.!”
Dwight guided him to his van and opened a large box of T-shirts with the Toilet King logo. “Here’s one your size. I want to see you in it.” Pride rang in Dwight’s voice.
Cole climbed in the van and changed his shirt dutifully. “I really appreciate what you want to do. I really do. But I like being a police officer. It’s who I am. I’m not ready to quit the force.”
Dwight froze in place, a load of T-shirts in his arms. Disbelief clouded his eyes. “But you’re the Toilet Prince! It’s your legacy.”
“Maybe when I retire from the force, I’ll be ready to accept the reins. You’re not ready to abdicate your throne yet anyway.” Cole scrambled down from the van and faced his dad. “You’re still virile, at the height of your prime. You don’t seriously want me to take your position for a long time yet, do you?”