The Hot Corner

by Amy Noelle

  “Lucky you.” Dinner had finally arrived, and once again my appetite was shot but I dug into my lasagna anyway. I had to eat something today.

  “Looks that way.” He grinned at his phone. “Listen, do you mind if we wrap this up? Something’s come up.”

  I knew exactly what had come up, and I pushed my plate aside. “Are you at least going to take me to my hotel, or do I need to call a cab?” Again. I had about had it with baseball players and it had been only a week.

  “Sure, I’ll drop you off.” Before I could get out any money, he threw a bill on the table. “I got this. Least I could do, since I’m cutting the night short.”

  “A man has his needs,” I said, shaking my head as we made our way outside.

  “Hey, I’d be happy to cancel my alternate plans if you wanted to . . .” He chuckled. The fed-up expression on my face must have amused him. “Right. Okay then. But you’re missing out.”

  “I have no doubt about it.” I got into his car and rubbed my forehead. I was getting a headache, probably because I still hadn’t eaten. Room service was in order.

  Lance got me to my hotel in one piece and even offered to walk me to my room, but I wasn’t about to keep him from his booty call any longer than I already had. At least I’d gotten some information I could use, so the night wasn’t a total waste. I ordered a burger from room service before I even bothered to kick off my shoes. Then I sat down to type up my notes.

  According to Lance Green, Brad was quiet and withdrawn when he first joined the Dodgers. Perhaps that was when he found out his father was sick. I need to get the timing on his illness, when Brad knew, and how he coped, which of course means we need to talk again. I wish he’d write his own damn story.

  What was the turnaround that made him hook up with the unattainable Mary? And then treat her like crap the next day? The Brad I knew wouldn’t have done that.

  Lance also says Brad hasn’t been his usual slutty self lately. Pam would know why. I’ll have to ask her. And him. Why does it feel like there are about twenty different Brads? People are complex, I admit, but I need to find out who he is now. Will he let me in? Will I let him let me in?

  There was the million-dollar question. I didn’t know if I could survive round two with him, but I didn’t know how I would write this book without getting closer to him either.

  Blessedly, the knock on my door meant I could stop thinking and start eating. I saved my notes and closed my laptop before answering the door and stopping in my tracks. It wasn’t my food, but damned if I wasn’t hungry for the sight before me anyway.

  Bradley Reynolds stood there in the same outfit I’d seen him leaving the stadium in, with the addition of a black leather jacket. Yum. But not what I needed.

  “What are you doing here?”

  He stepped inside and shut the door. “Where is he?”

  Chapter 11

  Brad stormed around my room, peering in the closet and even under the bed.

  “Green! Get out here and let me kick your ass like a man!”

  “What in the hell are you doing? He’s not here.”

  Brad shot me a look and opened the balcony door. Fine. I’d let him hunt for his teammate. Another knock on my door had him storming back inside, but I opened it before he could start yelling at the poor delivery guy. I grabbed my food and shoved some money at him before slamming the door and glaring at Brad as the scent of my burger hit me and sent my stomach grumbling.

  “Are you through making an ass out of yourself? Can you kindly leave so I can finally eat?” He’d already cost me two meals today—or talking about him had, at least—and I wasn’t going to sleep without eating something.

  Brad ran a hand through his hair and looked around the room again. “I thought you had dinner with Green.”

  “You thought a lot more than that, apparently,” I said. Screw it. I carried my burger and fries over to the desk and sat down to eat.

  “Well, of course I did. The fucker texted me and made it pretty clear things were going well. Wait a minute, is that why you didn’t eat? You were too busy screwing Green to eat dinner?”

  I turned and stared at him. “Are you kidding me? You, of all people, are here accusing me of sleeping around? Pot, meet kettle.” I pointed one of my fries at him. “Just because you and your teammates like to screw anything that moves doesn’t mean the rest of us are like that.”

  “I don’t. He does. Look at what he sent me, damn it.”

  He shoved his phone in front of my face and pulled up a text.

  She tastes as good as she looks.

  Well, hell.

  “He’s obviously talking about someone else. That was after he dropped me off.” I munched on my fries and pondered him for a moment. “But even if he had been talking about me, what business is it of yours? Weren’t you out with Pam?”

  Brad made himself comfortable and sat on my bed. I was not going to think about the things we used to do in a bed. No, I was not.

  “I was, but I left early.”

  Good. “Sounds like both our evenings were a washout.”

  He leaned over and took one of my fries while I glared at him. “Why aren’t you with him, anyway?”

  I threw up my hands. “First you freak out because you think I’m with him, and now you’re wondering why I’m not? What in the hell is going on with you?”

  “I don’t know.” He frowned and stole another fry. “Pam kept going on about how good you looked tonight and how some man had his hands all over you at the spa, making you moan.”

  I giggled before taking a big bite of my burger. She’d been true to her word, but instead of driving him crazy with her beauty, she’d used me instead. I kind of liked that. And Scott had had magic hands. I was sure his boyfriend appreciated them.

  “She said you’d relaxed for the first time in weeks, and all you needed was to get laid to top off the night.”

  I just about choked on my burger when I laughed and had to grab some water to wash everything down. Brad reached over and patted my back and I shrugged away from him. I didn’t need him touching me when I was only a foot away from my bed and he was already on it.

  “Then what?” I asked when I could talk again.

  “Then I had to get the hell out of there. So I left and was headed . . .” He laughed. “Here. I was already on my way here when I got that prick’s text.”

  “Wonder who he was talking about,” I said, smacking his hand when he stole another of my fries. “Get your own dinner.”

  “I like yours better.” He grinned, and I let him take another. “I don’t know who he was talking about, but as long as it isn’t you, I don’t care.”

  They shouldn’t have, but his words made me feel good. “Why were you headed here?”

  His hot green gaze burned into me. “Lance isn’t a good guy, and you’re . . . you. I couldn’t let him hurt you.”

  I snorted and pushed my plate away, turning the desk chair to face him fully. “So, what, you’re here to protect me? You do realize I’m twenty-seven years old and have been taking care of myself quite well for the past decade?”

  He sneered. “Not from guys like him, you haven’t.”

  I stood and pointed at him. “You are a guy like him! You’re one and the same, from what he said, only you score the hotter chicks. Bully for you, Brad.”

  Just because we’d dated years ago didn’t give him the right to protect me now. He’d hurt me way worse than some manslut teammate of his ever could.

  He stood, and I hated the way he towered over me when I didn’t have my heels on. He had a good eight inches on me.

  “I don’t know what he said, but we’re nothing alike.”

  “Oh yeah? He blew me off tonight to go out with someone who’d put out, and you blew me off on Monday night to go out with some model! That’s so very different, isn’t it?” I shouted.

  “Yes, it is!” Great, now he was yelling, too, and getting right in my face, looking furious. “I only went out with her becau
se you agreed to a date with Green! And I didn’t sleep with her.”

  I shoved him but he didn’t budge, which just made him more of an asshole. “And you made a date with your fuck buddy tonight because you wanted to talk about the weather? You must think I’m still the same naïve teenager that fell for your shit years ago!”

  He made a sound between a grunt and a growl. “I made a date with her because I couldn’t sit at home all night thinking about you with him and wondering what you were doing! I wasn’t going to sleep with her either!”

  “And I’m supposed to believe that? You two get together whenever you have the urge to scratch an itch, and Pam sure thought that’s what you wanted.”

  “Then she misinterpreted the situation.” He grabbed my arms and shook me lightly. “I haven’t been with Pam in months. I haven’t been with anyone in months, and it’s all your fucking fault!”

  I was confused and angry and he was touching me and his words echoed in my head. He had to be lying. “How in the hell is it my fault? I’ve only been here for a week.” The longest week of my life.

  “Physically. But you’ve been in here for a lot longer than that.” He released one of my arms and pointed at his head. “Ever since I turned on that TV in fucking Philly and saw you talking about your book, I’ve been unable to get you off my mind. And I tried, let me tell you. I went out and found a girl and went back to her place, and you know what happened?”

  I shook my head, trying to process what he was saying. Nobody? There’d been nobody since he’d seen me on television?

  “I kissed her, and I saw you. I tried to touch her, but she wasn’t you. And I had to leave.” He touched my face then, so lightly it almost felt like a feather. “I tried again, and again, and the same thing happened, so I stopped bothering and decided I had to see you again.”

  I closed my eyes. He was entirely too close and too tempting. “So that’s why you wanted to do the book.” It wasn’t a question. I knew now.

  “One of the reasons.” I opened my eyes and he was closer, his head bent and his lips only inches from mine. “Tell me you don’t feel it, every time we’re together. Tell me you don’t want me.”

  I shook my head and he smirked. “Is that a no, you don’t want me, or a no, you can’t tell me you don’t want me?”

  Bastard. He knew the answer. I was breathing so loudly they could probably hear me next door.

  “I don’t want to want you.”

  He laughed, a harsh sound. “On that we can both agree, Red. But the fact remains.”

  I should tell him to go. I should shove all the need building inside me aside and tell him to get out before we both did something stupid. Things were complicated enough without us giving in to what we both wanted, what I had to finally admit I’d wanted from the moment I first saw him again. He touched me and I was lost.

  “We shouldn’t,” I said as his lips brushed over mine. I slid my arms around his neck and stepped into the warmth of his body.

  “No,” he agreed, skimming his mouth across my jaw.

  “It’s going to complicate things.” I wound my fingers into his hair and sighed as he kissed my neck.

  “Definitely.” He rubbed his strong hands up and down my back as his teeth scraped over my throat. God, he was good.

  “I don’t trust you.” But I didn’t care, at least not right now.

  He pulled back and smiled down at me. “Same goes, sweetheart. What do you want to do about it?”

  This was my last chance. He was giving me the out, but there was no way in hell I was going to take it.

  “I’m going to be really stupid.” I caught the flash of his grin before I yanked him back to me and his hard, hot lips met mine. Heat blasted through my body, and I couldn’t get close enough to him.

  “Finally,” he groaned as his hands moved down my back and cupped my behind. I reached into his jacket and tried to pull it off. He had to release his hold on me, but he helped me by shrugging out of it and tossing it across the room before grabbing me again. He went to work on my zipper while I flicked open the buttons of his shirt, bringing his gorgeous bare chest into view. This time it was mine to touch and kiss, and I did, pulling his shirt open and pressing my lips to his tan, taut muscles, feeling them jerk underneath my hands.

  He was pulling at my dress so I lowered my arms and let him guide it down over my shoulders. The contrasting feel of the silky material and his rough, calloused hands was unspeakably erotic. So was the pleasure on his face as he took me in. He used to look at me just like that. The look hadn’t changed, and I felt a little jolt of happiness. I stood there in nothing more than little bits of black lace and let him look his fill.

  “You grew up good, Red.” Those rough fingers traced along my stomach and I felt my muscles clench. “Real good.”

  I held onto his shoulders because I was afraid if he kept touching me so softly my legs were going to buckle. “You did, too.”

  He chuckled and nipped at my ear. I shivered. The man still knew all my weaknesses. “You looked like you wanted to punch me when you saw me shirtless the other day. Well, that or throw me down and have your way with me.”

  “A little bit of both,” I admitted, sighing as his hands slipped inside my underwear and cupped my cheeks.

  “I hope you’ll choose the second option,” he said, nipping my ear again.

  There wasn’t any choice. “What do you think?”

  I shoved him, and this time he fell onto the bed, grinning up at me as I bent over him. I unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans while he kicked off his shoes. He arched his hips so I could move the denim down his legs, which were just as muscular and impressive as the rest of him. He wasn’t huge—just so very defined.

  “Wait.” He grabbed the jeans before I could toss them away, got out his wallet, and pulled a condom from it. Jesus. I hadn’t even thought of protection. Then again, I hadn’t been thinking at all since he’d started touching me. We hadn’t used condoms since we’d first gotten together. I’d been on the pill and still was, but this was a different time.

  “Don’t, Dani.”

  I tore my gaze away from the foil package. “What?”

  He sat up and pulled me onto his lap. “Don’t pull away from me.”

  Something in his voice got to me and I took his face in my hands. “I’m not. It’s just . . . we haven’t used one of those—”

  “I know, but I thought it was better to be safe. I didn’t want to assume anything.”

  He was being smart. It shouldn’t bother me, but all the girls he’d been pictured with flashed through my mind. “Always prepared, aren’t you?”

  His arms tightened around me. “I started carrying this with me the day after you got to town.” I widened my eyes. “I told you it had been months. Do you think I’m lying?”

  I studied his face. I shouldn’t have believed him, but I did. “No.”

  He smiled. “Good.” His lips were on mine again, and my mind got fuzzy. We had more to talk about, and I knew that, but his hands were exploring my body and his tongue was doing wicked things with mine, and I just couldn’t deal with all of that then. I wanted him. It was dumb and I’d probably regret it the next day, but right then I just couldn’t make myself care.

  He shifted and pushed me down on the bed, lowering his body on top of mine, and this, this was familiar and easy. It felt right. His fingers moved through my hair as he kissed me, and his kisses were the same. My heart was pounding as I pulled him to me.

  “Nothing feels this good,” he murmured as he kissed down my neck. His hands cupped my breasts, stroking them through the material. I felt my nipples harden against the lace as his thumbs brushed over them so lightly. He reached underneath me, flicked open the clasp of my bra, and grinned when I raised an eyebrow. “No comment,” he said as he pulled off my bra. That was probably for the best.

  I wasn’t able to comment, anyway, because his mouth was on my breast then, sucking and tugging gently at my nipple. I gasped and held on to
his head, getting lost in the sensation as he used his tongue and teeth to bring me pleasure. The same.

  “You taste exactly the way I remember,” he said. He kissed between my breasts as he made his way from one to the other. “You haven’t changed.”

  No. Nothing had changed, and maybe later, when he wasn’t sending my hormones racing, I’d take the time to be pissed off about that. It shouldn’t feel so familiar and right, not after everything and all this time, but it did.

  “So soft. So pale,” he murmured against my skin.

  “I still don’t tan,” I said, and he laughed and kissed my stomach.

  “I’m glad. I still do.” No joke. As always, our skin contrasted. I was lily white and he was bronze. That looked right, too. I watched as his fingers hooked on to my panties and dragged them down my legs. He stared at me like he was starving and I was his next meal. Maybe I was.

  He pushed my legs apart and lifted one, kissing my ankle and making me shiver. He smirked. “That hasn’t changed either, I see. Let’s see what else is the same.” Fuck. I was a goner. My head fell back on the pillow as he kissed his way up my leg, nibbling at my skin. I jumped when his tongue tickled the back of my knee, and he laughed. “Yes, exactly the way it used to be.”

  I dug my fingers into the comforter when his lips moved higher and held on for dear life as he whispered, “Red,” before his tongue moved against me. Colors danced beneath my eyelids and the wave hit almost too soon. He held tight and continued to taste and tease me as I came apart. “Again,” was all he said as his tongue, teeth, and fingers went back to work on my sensitive flesh.

  It was his name I sobbed as I came again. When the aftershocks stopped and I opened my eyes, I saw him staring down at me, his eyes locked on my face. “What?” I asked.

  He shook his head and lowered himself on top of me. Somewhere along the way, he’d gotten naked, and I could feel him hard and hot against me. I moaned and shifted and he was right there. His gaze held mine as he filled me. God. Yes. I wrapped my legs around him and held him there, almost afraid he’d move away from me.