Catching Zia (Spring Training Book 1)

by Becca Jameson

  Brett opened the passenger door, made sure she was settled inside, and then rounded the hood. A few minutes later, they pulled out of the parking lot. “Shit, Zia. How do you even reach the speed limit fast enough to keep from getting plowed into from behind while entering the highway?”

  “Can we discuss something more entertaining than my car?” she asked, hoping to distract him. “Lily sold another of my paintings this week. I need to go by there and drop off a few more.”

  Brett set a hand on her thigh. “Good for you. I’m not surprised. Your work is amazing. Let’s go by the gallery while I’m home. I need to meet this friend of yours that you’ve kept me from so far.”

  Zia smirked. “She’s not some secret or anything. We just haven’t had time.”

  “You afraid she’ll run off with me and leave you high and dry?” he teased.

  “Maybe. Depends on if you like tiny, artsy, cute blondes.”

  “Nope.” He sighed. “That won’t work for me. I’m more into taller women with thick wavy brown hair, legs that go on forever, and boobs that make a man drool.” He glanced in her direction and winked.

  Zia winced when the car stuttered. Then she rushed to speak over the sound of the motor. “What about my face? Does that do anything for you? Or is it all about my legs and breasts?” She tried to keep the smile from her lips, but lost.

  He shrugged, taking a left at the next intersection. “Eh, your face is okay too. I mean, it’s good enough, considering it’s attached to that fine rack of yours.”

  She swatted at him, and he grabbed her hand out of the air and kissed her knuckles while he came to a stop at a light. He turned to face her more fully. “Did your mom bother you again this week?”

  Zia scrunched up her face. “No. Thank God. Maybe she’s starting to take the hint.”

  “You think she’d do that? Give up? Go away. Stop harassing us for money?”

  “No.” Zia blew out a breath and leaned back against the headrest. “Honestly, no. And I hate it. I’m sorry I brought this to your doorstep.”

  He squeezed her hand. “Don’t be sorry. It’s not your fault.”

  She turned to face him as he started driving again. “Promise me something.”

  “Anything.” He shot her a quick glance.

  “Do not ever in this lifetime give that woman a single dime.”

  He squeezed her hand this time. “I won’t. I promise.”

  She sighed. “Thank you. I can ignore her for as long as she wants to stick around. Eventually she’ll give up. But I need you to be strong and on my side on this.”

  “You know I will.” He switched his line of questioning again. “How was the mural you did this week?”

  “Gorgeous.” She smiled at him. “The family loved it. I’ve got pictures.”

  “Can’t wait to see them. And your painting? You almost have enough for a show, right?”

  “Getting there.” She grinned. “Lily’s cracking her whip. She’s already got me on the schedule so I won’t have a choice.”

  “Good.” He gripped the steering wheel, shooting her a serious glance. “Did you talk to your landlord?”

  She shook her head. “Couldn’t find him. I’ll do it next week.” He’d been nagging her to move in with him for weeks. After she’d agreed to the move before he started traveling, she’d gotten nervous about letting her apartment go. The lease wasn’t up for a few months, and she didn’t see what the rush was. When Brett was in town, she stayed at his place. When he was on the road, she went back to hers. What difference did it make?

  He sighed, his shoulders lowering. Then he drove the rest of the way to his home in silence. When he pulled into the driveway and cut the engine, he turned to face her. He took both her hands in his. “Talk to me, Zia.”

  “About what?” She knew exactly what he meant, but she thought it might be fun to let him stew a few more minutes before they went inside.

  “You agreed to move in with me before spring training ended. And then you’ve done nothing but put it off since then. If I’m asking too much of you, tell me. If it’s too fast, let’s talk about it.”

  She leaned forward, kissed his nose, and then tugged her hands out of his grip to open her door. “I just forgot. That’s all,” she stated as she stepped out of the passenger side.

  Brett’s brow was furrowed, and his lips were pressed tight as he lifted his suitcase out of the trunk and led her to the front door.

  She bit her bottom lip to keep from ruining the surprise.

  She knew he was disappointed. He’d said as much every single time he came back into town for the last six weeks. But she also knew he was two seconds from elation.

  The moment he opened the front door, he stopped dead, not even entering the foyer. “What’s all this?”

  Boxes of her belongings were still sitting right inside the house. She ducked under his arm and entered the home. Trying to pretend it was no big deal, she shrugged as she headed deeper inside, not glancing back at him. “Oh, yeah. I forgot to tell you. My landlord called me this week. He was responding to my request from the week before. Seems he had a long waiting list and was perfectly willing to let me out of my lease immediately. I’m sure the next tenant is paying higher rent.”

  Strong arms wrapped around her from behind, hauling her into a firm chest. His lips landed on her ear. “Imp.”

  She giggled. “Surprise?”

  “Why didn’t you say something?”

  “It was more fun this way.”

  He eased his other hand up to cup her breast and gave it a squeeze. “Fun? Torturing me to death week after week by refusing to move in with me is your idea of fun?”

  “Uh, yeah?” Uh-oh. Maybe she’d miscalculated. She had expected him to be excited. Elated even. But she hadn’t factored in how he might react sexually.

  Brett pulled her tighter against his body, his palm pressing her belly against him so that his erection was obvious against the top of her ass.

  She closed her eyes. They always had sex when he got home from being out of town. They usually made it farther into the house, though.

  With one hand still spread across her belly, the other slid down to the hem of her dress to land on her bare thigh. He gathered the soft material of her sundress and eased it up slowly until he could grip the wrinkled skirt with his other hand.

  She moaned. It was so arousing standing in the foyer with her sex practically exposed. The only thing protecting her now was her thong. She’d intentionally worn a white one, knowing how he liked the color on her.

  She shifted her weight from one foot to the other as moisture gathered between her legs. He hadn’t touched her yet, and still she responded to him.

  When he cupped her sex and applied upward pressure, she whimpered, lifting onto her tiptoes.

  “So responsive.” He kissed her ear. “And so hot and wet already.” He forked two fingers around the thong, drawing the material away from her body, and stroked her swollen folds.

  Her head lolled back against his chest. “Brett…”

  “What, baby?”

  “We’re not even out of the entryway.”

  “So?”

  She squirmed again, gasping when he pressed a finger into her. She grasped his forearm at her waist. Why was she so worried about their location? Who cared where they had sex?

  When his thumb stretched under the lace of her thong to land on her clit, she stopped caring altogether. They could be on the front porch, and it wouldn’t faze her. Her eyes rolled back, and her vision blurred.

  Brett added a second finger to the first and thrust them into her. The angle wasn’t right to hit her G-spot, but his thumb on her clit had her on the edge of an orgasm in seconds.

  Her knees would have buckled if it weren’t for his palm against her belly holding her up. How did he always manage to make her come so quickly?

  The build was steady, and then she was right there.

  He knew it. “Come for me, Zia.” His voice was gravely and t
ickled her ear.

  She cried out as her orgasm crested, and then she gasped through the waves of release, her body flinching with every pulse.

  He gave her about ten seconds to catch her breath, and then he spun her around, leaned her against one of the tall boxes sitting haphazardly in the foyer, and kneeled to pull her panties off. His hands landed on her shins and smoothed up her legs and over her hips, taking her pale pink sundress with them. “Lift your arms, Zia.”

  She did as he asked, and a moment later she was naked except for her sandals. Just months ago, she would have been embarrassed and covered herself. But time spent with Brett had cured her of that.

  The look in his eyes every time he scanned her body was filled with lust. There was no denying he thought she was gorgeous. So she trusted him. She’d even purchased several new sundresses like the one on the hardwood floor at her feet—the kind that didn’t require a bra. Brett liked knowing her breasts were bare. She got aroused dressing like that for him.

  He brushed her hair behind her shoulders while she gripped the top lip of the box she leaned against. Then in a slow seduction, he removed all his clothes and sauntered into her space.

  His sluggish moves ended in an instant when he grabbed her waist and lifted her to sit on top of the box. “Looks sturdy enough.” He smirked, cupped her face, and kissed the sense out of her. With every passing moment, he inched closer until his thick length nestled against her sex and her nipples brushed his chest.

  His kiss eased back until his forehead rested against hers and his lips hovered a breath away. Then he thrust into her.

  She gasped, her heart racing at the welcome intrusion. She released the box to grab his biceps. Her legs wrapped around his middle, a lame attempt to keep him close and deep.

  He pulled out anyway, only to thrust back into her again and again, never losing eye contact. The friction of his shaft against her G-spot in this position drew her right back to the edge of bliss.

  “I’m gonna come, Brett.” Every word was more of a breath.

  He cupped her face with one hand to hold her gaze. He used the other hand to hold her steady at the small of her back. “Not yet. Hold on for me, baby.”

  Hold on? She bit her lip, trying desperately to control the need.

  Brett plucked her lip out of her mouth with his thumb, groaning as if the act had pushed him too far.

  What was it with him and lip biting?

  Finally, he drew in a sharp breath. “Now.”

  She shattered around him, loving the way he pushed in as deep as he could and held steady.

  His own orgasm met hers, the pulsing of his length matching the gripping of her channel around him.

  For long moments, she leaned against him, both of them sweaty, the entryway filled with the scent of their lovemaking.

  Before she could catch her breath, the box under her butt decided it had reached its breaking point. She heard the buckling of the cardboard a second before Brett grabbed her waist and set her on the floor.

  He laughed. “Okay, so maybe those boxes weren’t meant for rough sex.”

  She turned to stare at the slightly smashed side of a box that contained who-knew-what. Could have been clothes. Could have been plates and bowls.

  Didn’t matter. What mattered was that she was home. This place was hers now. They’d had sex in his house many times, but suddenly, it wasn’t just his place. She belonged here too.

  She wrapped her arms around his middle and inhaled his scent.

  He threaded his fingers into her hair and held her closer, kissing the top of her head. “I love you.”

  “Love you too.”

  He leaned back, licking his lips as he stared down at her. “Need to show you something. Please don’t get mad.”

  She winced. “Brett…”

  His face wasn’t readable as he leaned down to his pants and grabbed his keys from the front pocket. He took her hand and hauled her naked body down the hall. He stopped at a locked door to a room she’d never been in. He’d told her it was a mess and filled with baseball paraphernalia that was worth too much money to leave it unlocked. She’d never questioned him.

  Now…

  He hauled her into his embrace again and brushed her hair off her face. His expression was serious.

  Her heart beat rapidly.

  Without a word, he finally turned around, unlocked the door, and opened it.

  Zia gasped. “Oh God. Brett?” She stepped inside, her hand on her chest. “What…?”

  “I wanted you to have a studio in the house. A place you could totally call your own. A place you can work anytime you want.”

  She couldn’t meet his gaze because she would cry. Her lips were suddenly dry. Her gaze darted around the room. Finally, she spun around to face him. “Brett, there are no words.” She plastered her body to his and kissed him. Her arms snaked around his neck.

  He gripped her waist and held on tight.

  When she finally pulled away, she uttered the only words that would come out, “Thank you.”

  “You’re not mad? I was afraid you might freak out.”

  “No. How could I be? You did it out of love.”

  His shoulders relaxed. “I did.” He set his forehead against hers. “And I love you even more today.”

  She smiled at him, knowing she was the luckiest woman alive.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Six months later…

  “What the heck are you doing, Zia? We were supposed to meet Lily fifteen minutes ago,” Brett called from the front door.

  “Coming. One sec,” she yelled down the hall, sticking her head out of her studio to meet his gaze. The studio had a fantastic view of the backyard, enormous floor-to-ceiling windows, and gorgeous hardwood floors. She loved it.

  She turned back to the painting in front of her, pursed her lips, angled her head to one side, and stared at it. Was it right? Did she do justice to the subject?

  She took a deep breath and nearly jumped out of her skin when Brett set his hands on her shoulders. She hadn’t heard him coming down the hall. “Oh. My. God.” He released her, eased to her side, and stared at her work. His hand remained on her shoulder, and he squeezed.

  Finally, his gaze jerked to hers. “You didn’t tell me about this.”

  She shook her head, biting the corner of her lower lip and hoping he liked it.

  He grabbed her lip with two fingers, freeing it from her teeth, and leaned down to bite into the tender flesh himself. “You want my cock stiff when we get to the gallery?”

  She giggled. “When are you not aroused?”

  “Point taken. Now seriously.” His attention turned back to the painting. “When did you do this?”

  “I’ve been working on it for several weeks. A little at a time. I know how much you love that stadium, so I wanted to sketch it for you.”

  He stepped closer, his hand trailing down her back until it looped into the top of her jeans. “It’s fantastic. I feel like I’m right there at spring training.”

  “I had to do it from the only vantage point I’ve ever had, my seat behind your dugout. I went there several days while you were out of town to sketch for hours at a time.”

  He twisted to glance at her. “You hauled this giant easel to the stadium?”

  She smiled. “No. I worked in my sketch book. And then I came home and used that as a guide to transfer my work to the bigger canvas.”

  “Are you going to sell it?” he asked, his brow furrowing.

  She shrugged. “If you want me to, I can.” She didn’t want to be presumptuous, but she secretly hoped he might like to have it for himself, maybe in his den.

  “It would make you a lot of money.” He turned back to stare at it. “But I’m kinda greedy about it too. Can I have it?” He hauled her around to his front and cupped her face with both hands. “Would you be disappointed if I kept it? Could you make another one to sell?”

  She smiled, feeling the flush on her cheeks. “I was hoping you’d say th
at. I did it for you.”

  He kissed her lips. “Well, I love it. Thank you so much. And I can’t promise if you make another one, I’ll let you sell it, either.”

  She giggled again. “How many paintings of the practice stadium do you need?”

  “Dozens. One for every room in the house.” He lifted her off the floor, held her body pressed against his, and carried her out of the room with her feet dangling in front of his shins. She had to grasp her heels with her toes to keep from losing them.

  She pressed against his chest with her palms. “What are you doing? Put me down.”

  He continued down the hallway to the front door. It wasn’t until after he adjusted her so that he held her with one forearm and opened the front door that he finally set her down on the front porch. He reached behind them to close the door.

  “What was that all about?” She straightened her blouse and then palmed the white denim on her thighs to settle her jeans.

  “We’re late. If we had stayed inside one more minute, I would have dragged you back to bed instead of out the door. God only knows what Lily must think of me that I can’t even get to her gallery with you in tow at a reasonable time.”

  Zia set her hands on his chest, lifted onto her tiptoes, and kissed his cheek. “Lily knows me. She’s well aware of how I lose track of time when I’m working.”

  “You weren’t working this morning.” He lifted a brow.

  She shrugged. “Lily doesn’t know that.”

  Brett smirked. “You’d lie to your friend?”

  “White lie?” She held up her thumb and pointer to pinch them together. “A tiny one.”

  He grabbed her hand out of the air and headed for his SUV. He’d already pulled it out of the garage and parked it in the driveway to load it with several of her paintings.

  When they were settled inside, he spoke again. “Even if Lily is that understanding, what I’m imagining doing to you right now would make us late for our next stop too.” He started the engine and twisted to look over his shoulder, setting his hand on the seat behind her.