Worth the Trade

by Kristina Mathews

  He shifted his weight, centering himself over her. She wrapped her legs around him and he entered her slowly. He didn’t want to hurt her. He only wanted to please her. To prove to her that he was worth her trust, her faith in him.

  He wanted to take his time. To make this last. But she was making it so damn difficult to hold on to his control.

  She bucked beneath him, digging her nails into his shoulders. It was coming. He could feel her inner muscles spasm. She wrapped her legs around him even tighter, squeezing his hips with her thighs, drawing him deeper, deeper into her as her climax built.

  She gripped him tighter, her hands, thighs, and inner muscles all tightening at once as she called out his name. It was all it took for him to plunge over the edge. He thrust once more, shuddering his release. Filling her with everything he had.

  “Wow.” She let go of his shoulders, sliding her hands down his arms.

  “Yeah. Wow.” He was pretty sure he had bruises where her fingers had dug into his flesh. And he’d never felt better.

  Chapter 7

  “Ms. Collins, you have a delivery.” Hunter’s receptionist buzzed shortly after lunch. “Can I send her back?”

  “Thank you,” she replied to the intercom. “That would be fine.”

  A small quiver of anticipation bloomed in her belly. She wondered what Marco had sent. Flowers? Chocolate? She hoped it wasn’t too embarrassing, like a singing telegram.

  An attractive brunette appeared with a large shopping bag. Bright pink stripes and the Victoria’s Secret logo gave her a clue as to what was in the bag.

  “I didn’t know your store delivered.” Hunter’s cheeks flushed.

  “Normally, we don’t.” The brunette smiled. “But your boyfriend is very charming.”

  Boyfriend? They’d slept together once. She was his boss. Okay, the boyfriend label kept things simpler.

  “Yes. He is quite charming.” Hunter’s blush deepened.

  “He wanted me to make sure it fits.” The brunette handed over the bag and waited.

  “Have a seat.” Hunter offered one of the guest chairs. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  Hunter took the bag into the private restroom adjacent to her office. She peeked inside. Underneath the pink tissue paper she found more pink, in satin and lace.

  She held up the camisole. It was pretty. Delicate. Feminine. Everything Hunter wasn’t.

  She shrugged out of her blouse and bra, slipping the lingerie over her head.

  Unexpected tears sprang to her eyes as she realized Marco already saw her this way. As a woman. A feminine, sexy woman.

  Hunter quickly took it off, stuffed it back into the bag, and put her plain white bra and ivory blouse back on.

  “It fits. Thank you.” Hunter returned to the woman waiting in her office.

  “Good. I’m glad. Most men have a hard time judging sizes. He took his time, carefully selecting just the right thing.” The other woman smiled. “He didn’t even flirt. Some guys do, you know. Like we would be impressed with a guy who says he’s getting something for his sister or mother.”

  “Men really do that?” Hunter couldn’t imagine.

  “Yeah. But not your man. He just wanted to pick out something special. For the special woman in his life.” She sighed, impressed by Marco’s charm. Maybe a little envious that it was wasted on someone like Hunter. “He wanted to buy you a lot more, but since he didn’t know your exact size, I suggested I have you come in for a bra fitting.”

  “A bra fitting?”

  “Yes. We do them in the store all the time. You’d be surprised at how many women wear the wrong size,” the woman told her. “And your man convinced me to deliver the camisole and do a fitting while I was here.”

  “You want to do a fitting? Really?” She didn’t want to take off her shirt here in the office.

  “I can do it right over your blouse. It’ll just take a minute.” The woman withdrew a tape measure from her pocket and smiled. “He had several items picked out. I just need to confirm your measurements and then I’ll deliver those too.”

  “Wow.” A lump rose in Hunter’s throat. A lot of guys would have just sent flowers. There were rumors that one baseball player left autographed baseballs as a souvenir for his one night stands.

  The salesclerk took Hunter’s measurements, and noted the figure on two cards. She handed one to Hunter and slipped the other in her pocket along with the measuring tape. She thanked Hunter, even though she was the one performing a service. A very personalized service.

  Hunter glanced at the clock. Still five hours until game time.

  * * * *

  Marco stepped up to the plate. He cast a quick glance at the seats behind home plate. Hunter was there, in her typical suit, but the blush on her cheeks was nearly as pink as the camisole set he’d had delivered to her office. The salesgirl had called, verifying the purchase for the remaining items. She’d told him that Hunter was willing to pick up the items at the store, but he thought it would be much more fun to deliver one piece at a time.

  That way he would know what she was wearing each night when he stepped to the plate.

  Tonight, she was in pink. Hot pink. Very hot pink.

  And he was the only one who knew it.

  Marco smiled as he settled into the batter’s box. He noted the smug look on the pitcher’s face. No doubt his opponent thought he had his number. He’d probably studied his last several at bats. He looked pretty confident as he went into his windup.

  Marco took the first pitch. He even went so far as to shake his head as if he’d known he couldn’t have hit it anyway. He asked for time. Stepped away from the plate, and closed his eyes. Oh yeah, he could picture Hunter sitting on the edge of her seat, wondering if nothing had changed.

  Everything had changed. He’d show her. And everyone else in the ballpark.

  Marco stepped in. He watched the pitcher nod to his catcher then wind up and throw it a little low on the outside corner. Right to his sweet spot.

  Marco stroked a double down the left field line.

  Damn, that felt good.

  Almost as good as having Hunter in his bed.

  He stood on second base, giving a nod in her direction.

  That was for you.

  He watched Hunter as she bent over her scorebook. She tucked an errant wisp of hair behind her ear. She had no idea how beautiful she was.

  The next batter hit a slow ground ball to first base. Marco advanced to third on the sacrifice. With two outs, Hunter moved to the edge of her seat. She wanted him to score. To break up the tie. She wanted him to come home.

  The pitcher dropped a curveball that squirted through the catcher’s legs. Marco made a dash for home. Sliding just under the tag, he heard the umpire yell, “Safe!”

  Marco stood, dusted off his pants and tipped his cap in Hunter’s direction. Forty thousand fans erupted into cheers. But he had done it just for her.

  He finished the night with three hits including a home run, a double and four RBIs. Not bad. Not bad at all. Especially when the Goliaths took the win to even the series. Tomorrow would be the third game. A game he felt a lot more confident about now.

  “So Marco, I think this is the kind of game we were all expecting when you joined the Goliaths.” Rachel Parker caught up with him after the game. She met him at the top of the dugout, with her microphone and her friendly smile.

  “I hope it’s just the beginning.” Marco didn’t want to spend too much time talking. Not when he had a lingerie inspection to conduct as soon as he could get Hunter alone.

  “You looked a lot more comfortable at the plate tonight.” Rachel had noticed. “Any change in your routine?”

  “I think I was putting too much pressure on myself.” Marco wasn’t about to tell her the reason he was so relaxed. “I tried to let up a little, not take myself so seriously. I just hope I can continue to help the team.”

  “You looked pretty good in the outfield tonight, too.”

  “I p
ride myself on playing solid defense. If it’s in the park, it’s my responsibility to make the play. If I can’t get to it, then I’ve let my pitcher down. I’ve let my team down.”

  “Well, tonight you lifted your team up. That’s one of the longest home runs I’ve seen at this park.”

  “Really? I know it felt good coming off the bat, but I didn’t see where it landed.” Marco had long ago given up trying to figure out why one hit was a home run and another sailed directly into the defender’s glove. A lot of it was luck. Timing. Hitting the ball in the exact right spot. If it was possible to do it every time, this game wouldn’t be any fun anymore.

  And he could admit that this game was a lot more fun when he was hitting. Home runs, doubles it didn’t matter, RBIs were the stats he took the most pride in—the number of runs batted in that made the difference in a game.

  “Congratulations on a great game.” Rachel turned from him toward the camera. “This is Rachel Parker, signing off after another Goliaths’ win, thanks in part to Marco Santiago’s monster home run.”

  Marco made his way back to the clubhouse. He was greeted with high fives and back slaps, making him feel more a part of the team than ever.

  Bryce came up to Marco after they’d both had a chance to shower and change. “So, you got a dugout interview with Rachel Parker, huh?”

  “Yeah. I finally had something to talk about.”

  “Watch out for that one. She may look sweet, but she’s not afraid to bust your balls.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.” Sounded like Bryce had some experience with her.

  “So, you coming out with us tonight?” Bryce leaned against the locker next to Marco’s. “Celebrate a little?”

  Marco was just about to make his excuses, when Hunter walked up to them, with a congratulatory smile on her face.

  “Sounds like fun. You boys have a good time.” She gave Marco a small nod. “Just make sure you’re in bed by midnight.”

  She tapped Bryce on the shoulder, causing Marco’s gut to tighten in jealousy. But she gave him a sultry glance as she walked away.

  He was following Bryce to the parking lot when his cell phone chimed with a text from Hunter.

  My bed. Midnight. Don’t be late.

  Not a chance.

  Marco joined Bryce and a couple of other players who’d been picked up at the trade deadline. They had drinks. The two younger guys hooked up with a couple of women they met at the bar. Bryce asked Marco if he wanted to share a cab, but Marco had someplace to be. And he’d better hurry if he was going to get there before midnight.

  * * * *

  “You’re late.” Hunter opened the door just before midnight. She stood in the doorway in a gray flannel robe, her arms folded across her chest. Her hair was contained in a low, loose ponytail, and Marco itched to bury his fingers in its silky strands.

  “I still have three minutes.” Marco didn’t wait for an invitation to enter. He followed her inside and as soon as the front door was closed, he pressed her against it. He kissed her. Hard. Hurried. Hungry.

  “We haven’t made it to my bed, yet.” Hunter squirmed, as he trailed kisses from her lips, to her neck, to that delicate spot just behind her ear.

  “Lead the way.” Marco reluctantly took his mouth off her skin.

  “Upstairs.” She tugged on his arm and he followed until she pushed open the first door on the right.

  He moved her toward the bed. Pulled at the tie around her waist. The robe fell open, revealing the hot pink lingerie he’d had delivered.

  “Oh, yeah. That’s more like it.” Marco uttered his appreciation. “Damn. You’re beautiful. So, so, beautiful.”

  Hunter’s cheeks stained to match her underwear.

  Marco lowered his head to take her nipple into his mouth through the silky fabric. She moaned as he suckled. God, she was so responsive. Her taut nipples jutted against the damp cloth. He slipped his hand around her waist, pulling her closer. Closer. But not close enough.

  As lovely as her sexy new underwear were, they were in his way.

  Marco shoved the robe off her shoulders. He slid his hands beneath the satin top. Moving the material out of his way, he returned his mouth to her breasts, savoring each perfect mound. Her little groans of pleasure encouraged him to move faster.

  He hooked his thumbs into the waistband of the little shorts that matched the top and slid them down her hips. His pulse rate skyrocketed at the sight of her luscious, naked body.

  “Hunter.” His voice was thick, almost inaudible. “Damn, woman. You are so sexy.”

  “Marco.” Her skin flushed, not just her cheeks. “Please.”

  She tasted so good. Felt so good. How could she not know how hot she was? How hot she made him?

  She tugged at his jeans, fumbled with the button, before sliding the zipper down. Oh yeah. Her touch was nearly enough to send him over the edge. She snaked her fingers down below the elastic of his boxer-briefs and he groaned.

  He still hadn’t made it to her bed. He’d have to fix that.

  Together they tumbled to the mattress.

  Marco lifted his hand to the back of her head and loosened the rubber band, setting her hair free. Long, silky strands of brown and gold and copper shimmered in the lamplight.

  “So beautiful,” he whispered, marveling at the goddess before him, with her hair down, flowing across the pillow, and her luscious curves spread out before him. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

  She laughed. A nervous titter, showing her insecurity. “You don’t have to flatter me. I’m already yours.”

  “Yes. You are mine.” He kissed her, claiming her with his mouth. “All mine.”

  He trailed kisses down her body, lingering at her breasts for a while before making his way down. She moaned in appreciation as he savored her soft silky skin.

  Until he dipped his head between her thighs.

  She whimpered, and then tensed as he dropped a delicate kiss on her inner thigh.

  “Marco.” She grasped his hair, holding him back. “Please.”

  The desperate plea was not an encouragement.

  “You don’t have to do that.” She squirmed, uncomfortable with the direction he was heading.

  “You don’t want me to kiss you there?” He couldn’t quite understand her hesitation. Her insecurity.

  “It’s just too…much.” She shifted, moving her body away from him. She was uncomfortable.

  “Tell me what you want.” He slid his body so they could talk, face to face. Eye to eye. “Tell me what you need.”

  “Just, kiss me.” Her voice quivered with uncertainty. “On the mouth.”

  “You’re the boss.” Marco placed a gentle kiss on her lips. He followed her lead. And when she parted her lips, he plunged his tongue into her mouth. He kissed her until her hesitation dissolved. Kissed her until her need overpowered her insecurity.

  He slipped his hand between her thighs, stroking her gently, taking cues from her. When she bucked against his fingers, he plunged deeper inside her. Drawing her out of her inhibitions.

  He stroked harder, faster, deeper, bringing her closer and closer to the edge.

  “Come for me, sweetheart.”

  Her breath quickened, the little sounds escaping her throat telling him she was close.

  “That’s my girl,” he coaxed her into a climax.

  “Marco. Please.” She moaned. “Please.”

  He positioned himself over her. She reached for him, demanding.

  “Is this what you want?” He teased her opening with just the tip of his penis. Her insistent grunt told him plenty.

  He pushed inside, just a little and she bucked toward him. Greedy. Needy.

  He pulled out and she whimpered. Then she grabbed his ass.

  “Oh, you really want it?” Marco eased inside slowly, before withdrawing again. “You’re going to have to beg.”

  “Marco…” Her voice was desperate. “Please.”

  He couldn’t de
ny her any longer. He plunged deep, deeper than he thought possible. He moved with her.

  He could feel another orgasm building. Her breath coming faster. Her moans becoming more insistent. Her inner muscles tightening. Gripping him. Holding on to him. Taking him to the point of no return. Finally she cried out his name. Her whole body shook with her climax and he followed almost immediately after.

  He lay there, still inside her, aftershocks pulsing around him. Marco felt a seismic shift in his heart. He wanted this. What he had right here. Right now. Hunter. In his arms. In his life.

  He looked around the room, the realization that this had been her childhood bedroom hitting him as he took in the whitewashed window seat with stuffed animals lined up at the corners. The bookcases filled with a mix of hardcover and paperback books, handmade ceramic figurines and baseball memorabilia from the last twenty years or so.

  A twinge of envy swept over him. She had grown up here, in this very room of this very house. She’d gone from a girl, to a teenager, to a woman right here.

  He felt the urge to protect the girl this room revealed. The woman who tried so hard to keep herself hidden from the rest of the world.

  “Hunter.” He stroked her hair and dropped delicate kisses along her neck. “My sweet, sweet Hunter.”

  Marco felt a sense of gratitude at being let in. At being one of the few who saw her like this. Vulnerable. Naked. Stripped of all her armor. He understood that her gray suits, her masculine clothing were nothing more than a shield against the world.

  And she’d allowed him to break through her defense.

  “So tell me, have you had many boys sneak into your room?” Marco asked playfully. Hoping he already knew the answer.

  “Boys?” She shifted beneath him, pulling away. Putting up her defenses. “No boys.”

  “Okay, so how many men?” he teased, pretty confident he was in elite company.

  “Just one. Just you.”

  “I thought you said you weren’t a virgin.” A slight worry tickled his chest.

  “I wasn’t. I went to college.” She tried to sound so worldly. But she wasn’t fooling him.

  “Stanford, right?”

  “Yes. I know, didn’t exactly travel far from home.” She laughed, as if she had settled somehow. “How did you know where I went to school?”