Love from Left Field

by Megan Ryder

  He deepened the kiss, swallowing her moans in his mouth. He slid his other hand down over the small of her back to grasp her ass and pull her against his erection, which had remained semi-hard throughout dinner and now roared back to life, demanding satisfaction.

  He pulled away and she opened her eyes to stare dazedly up at him.

  “I won’t be able to stop this time. Be very sure, Miranda.”

  She nodded, then licked her lips and his groin tightened painfully, longing to feel that tongue on his skin. “I’m sure.”

  He continued to study her, looking for signs of intoxication, but her eyes were clear blue, direct and honest. “It’s not the vodka speaking, right?”

  She wound her hands around his neck and kissed him. “Not even close. This is all me, Lucas.”

  He stepped back abruptly and she stumbled. He steadied her then dropped his hands, not trusting himself to not lay her down in the sand and take her right there. “Not here. Not for our first time. Want to head back?”

  She nodded, but took one last look around the moonlight ocean, at the stars reflected in the water, then she followed him the sandy beach. A towel had been left on top of their shoes. The lights went out in the kitchen, his mother bowing out gracefully, not making an awkward scene for them.

  He grinned. “I guess Mom’s going to bed. Want to sneak away?”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Lucas drove the economy car like it was on the racetrack in Daytona, weaving among the college kids and other people on the road, but Miranda wasn’t complaining. She prayed for him to go faster so she wouldn’t lose her nerve, and he wouldn’t change his mind. She had no illusions about this night or them. Maybe it was one night, or more, but it couldn’t be anything other than scratching an itch, satisfying an urge to see how it would be between them. Somehow she knew it’d be explosive.

  She reached across the console between the front seats, not a big distance in this tiny car, and ran her fingers up Lucas’s leg, a light feathery touch designed to drive him mad. She brushed her hand over the straining fabric and his erection twitched. Before she could cup it, he grabbed her hand and put it back in her own lap, holding it firmly there.

  “Be careful, darling, or this night will be over before it gets started.”

  “Only one time? Well, damn, if that’s all you can muster…”

  “Miranda, I’m warning you.” He growled the words out as he ran a yellow light, that was honestly more red than yellow.

  His words and tone sent a shiver up her spine. She wiggled her fingers under his hand, but he only gripped it tighter.

  They got to the hotel and he struggled out of the car in record time, heading around to help her out. “Thank God we checked in earlier.” He took her hand and dragged her towards the entrance. “My room’s closer.”

  “Eager much?” She laughed, but she kept pace with him, just as impatient as he was.

  They took the stairs, not willing to wait for the elevator with the family of five and the squalling baby, a real mood killer for them. He shoved the key into the door and it turned red, then green. He opened the door and stopped, his hand on the frame, blocking her entrance to the room.

  “Miranda, it’s okay if you change your mind. No hard feelings.”

  She grabbed his shirt and pulled him down for a kiss.

  Then she ducked under his arms and into the room. “You having second thoughts, Lucas?”

  “Hell, no. Just trying to be a gentleman like my momma taught me.”

  “Forget all about that and get in here.” She stretched out on the king-sized bed, propped up on one elbow.

  He closed the door and tossed the key on the television stand. He stalked her, coming closer, with a heat burning in his eyes. He unbuttoned his shirt and gestured to her.

  “Off.”

  She arched a brow at his tone but slowly slipped one button out of the loop, then the next, teasing him with casual glimpses of her skin. He tossed his shirt over the chair and pulled the desk chair close with a yank of his foot. He sat on it, one foot propped on the other knee and folded his arms across his chest.

  “I can wait all night.”

  “Really?” She looked pointedly at his bulge, then licked her lips, desperately needing the moisture for her suddenly dry mouth.

  She tossed her shirt on the same easy chair he had used, then reached back to unclasp her bra.

  “Stop,” he muttered thickly, obviously striving for control.

  Power surged through her, power over this sexy man. She quickly shrugged out of the rest of her clothes, leaving her panties on, then leaned back on her elbows, sending Lucas a come-hither look.

  “Any time, lover boy.”

  He growled and crawled onto the bed, careful not to crush her. He braced himself on his elbows and leaned down to capture her mouth with his, a demanding taking that she met with her own tongue, entwining with his, teasing, taunting. He lowered himself over her, her legs spreading to let him settle flush against her core, his hardness prodding her. She moaned and wrapped one of her legs around his, pulling him closer. Either it had been too long or he just felt so good. She arched her back and the light sprinkling of chest hair rubbed against her swollen and sensitive nipples, making her gasp, and shift for more of the sensation. She ran her hands around his torso to trace the muscles on his back, using her nails just enough to tease.

  He trailed kisses down her neck, stopping to lick the spot where her pulse beat wildly just under the skin. He sucked lightly, enough for a mark tomorrow. Her nerves were alive with a fire coursing along her skin, and her legs shifted restlessly trying to get him closer to where she was swollen and wet with need. He lightly skimmed her breasts with his fingers, avoiding the sensitive nipple area, circling. She tried to turn into his hand but he only chuckled and pinned her in place gently.

  Finally, his lips closed around one nipple and lightly tongued the sensitive nub. Her back bowed and she gasped. His other hand tormented the other taut peak, tugging then twisting until she was whimpering, begging for relief. He switched, nipping the other peak, the sucking it deep, while stroking and flicking the other hard point. By that point, she was writhing on the bed, never having felt this out of her mind just from her breasts being toyed with. She pushed on his shoulders, willing him to move lower but he seemed content right where he was, growling a warning at her.

  She ran her fingernails down then up his sides, not deep enough to draw blood but enough to make her point. She traced the chiseled muscles along his back, then sank the nails in when he sucked her deeply. He chuckled at her response against the smooth skin.

  “Damn you. Finish this.” She gasped, nudging her lower body into his hardness, drawing in a deep breath when it grazed her clit through her panties.

  “I could spend all night right here,” he murmured against her skin, accompanied by a tiny nip.

  “So, you’re a breast man, great. You can’t think of anything better to do?”

  He tilted his head, a devilish look in his eyes. “I could, but who knows when I’ll have these again?” He plumped the two soft mounds and darted back and forth between the nipples, a flick here, a suck there, interspersed with a nip, the sting soothed with a lick.

  She growled and chuckled. With a final lick, he slid down further, placing kisses down her taut belly, to briefly stop at her navel, then to resume the journey south. He slid her panties down and she lifted a leg so he could sweep them off completely. His hands rested between her thighs and he pressed a kiss at the top of her warm folds. She moaned and her head fell back against the pillows. He spread her tender flesh with his thumbs and licked a long straight line from her opening up to her swollen nub at the top. He explored her thoroughly, devastating her completely until she exploded with a loud cry.

  She slowly came back to reality to his gentle kisses, her fingers dug deep into his hair, holding him in place. He gave one final kiss and jerked reflexively, then he came back over her.

  “Condom?” she as
ked breathlessly.

  He stood and unzipped, sliding off both pant and briefs at the same time, slinging them over the chair. His arousal jutted out proudly from between his thighs, a drop of precum glistened at the opening of the plum-shaped head. He opened a side pocket in his bag and pulled out several condoms and tossed them on the bed.

  She quirked a brow and smiled. “Feeling confident, are you?”

  “Just prepared,” he replied.

  She reached for him and he sidestepped. “Not this time. I won’t last.”

  His words were strangled, strained and tense. “Fine. Then get over here.”

  He rolled on the condom then climbed back on the bed and settled on top of her, his legs between hers, his cock rubbing between her folds. He claimed her lips in a deeply sensual kiss, reigniting her passion within moments. She wrapped her legs around him and nudged him insistently. He guided himself into her opening, slowly at first, her tightness resisting then softening around him. He kept his eyes steady on hers as he buried himself deep within. Finally, he was settled to the hilt.

  “Ready?”

  She nodded, tightening her inner muscles to clench around him. He groaned in response and began to move slowly at first then faster, driving deep, hard. Her hips lifted, matching him thrust for thrust. His gaze held hers, maintaining the connection. Passion overcame over her and she closed her eyes, feeling her orgasm a few breaths away.

  She locked her legs around his waist as he hammered into her, driving harder and harder. Her muscles convulsed around him as she came with a loud cry. He followed right after her, roaring out his climax, then he collapsed on her, careful to lay slightly to the side to not crush her.

  She rested her head against the pillow, her chest heaving with exertion. He faced her, his breath coming out harshly. She lifted her hand and laid it on his cheek. He turned and pressed a soft kiss to her palm. She sighed and closed her eyes, letting sleep overtake her finally.

  *

  Lucas woke her a few more times that night and they explored their passion until the dawn peeked over the sky. Finally, they fell into an exhausted sleep. Miranda woke first, stretching deliciously sore muscles. Lucas slept deeply next to her, his arm draped over her body, snoring lightly. She glanced at her watch and cursed under her breath. She had promised her father she’d call with an update on spring training. The day was jammed with meetings and games so he was expecting her call by eight and it was seven-thirty already.

  She carefully wiggled out from under Lucas’s arm, gathered her skirt and top, and slipped into the bathroom to dress. She had no idea where her bra or panties had ended up. She’d deal with that later. For now, she had to get back to her own room and regroup before anyone knew what had happened.

  Not that anyone was going to check her bedroom. The time for that had ended with beauty pageants along with curfews. She gently opened the bathroom door and spied her bag on the table by the door. She barely remembered bringing it in with her. She picked it up and gave Lucas one last lingering glance, resisting the urge to wake him again, headed out the door, holding it so it made no noise when it shut behind her.

  *

  Lucas stayed absolutely silent, willing his breathing to remain regular and even. Finally, he heard the door close with a quiet snick. He sat up and rubbed a hand over his face. He knew they had to talk about this night, but he was pathetically glad she had snuck out without the morning-after conversation. He honestly had no idea what to say this time. Most of his partners weren’t associated with business so the morning after tended to be a civil exchange of clothes, platitudes about getting together again sometime—when both knew it wasn’t going to happen—and escorting her out, or leaving himself.

  But last night had surpassed his expectations by a long home run. He had sensed passion lurking beneath Miranda’s skin, passion only for him. He had hoped spending time away from the stadium offices, away from the pressures of family and business, away from prying eyes, they could explore the possibilities between them.

  He waited for the usual feeling of panic. Whenever he got too close with someone, it was always time to back off. But last night, the past few weeks with Miranda, he’d felt something he hadn’t felt in a long time.

  Like he’d come home.

  He had thought it was coming back to Savannah, where he had grown up, but that wasn’t it. Miranda made him feel that way, relaxed, excited, connected. He found himself craving time with her, as if she grounded him, and he made sure he spent time with her daily, and not because it was his job. He liked it. He liked her.

  How did she feel? Was it more than sex for her?

  Chapter Seventeen

  After spending the night with Miranda, they were caught in the whirlwind of spring training. They attended the pre-season game, met the players again, and reiterated Miranda’s position about the players and type of play she was expecting. Then they headed for the airport, barely making their flight, exhausted. When they landed, they shared a car to the stadium then parted awkwardly, as if a return to Savannah meant a return to real life. As if Florida was a vacation and their romance stayed there.

  It pissed Lucas off, but they had only a week to Opening Day and Miranda was busy working with her staff, lining up the Opening Day ceremonies, and working out details from their trip. But it wasn’t that he didn’t think of her or speak with her. She starred in some serious X-rated fantasies of his and any thought that he had gotten her out of his system was definitely proven false. They had even met with other leaders, but somehow they were never alone.

  Lucas arrived at the stadium early that morning. Opening Day was a day game, a rare Tuesday event, and most of the staff was coming in extra early to ensure everything went smoothly. Despite this, the floor where the executives sat was dark and quiet when Lucas got off the elevator. He walked down the hall and detoured to Miranda’s office and, as he expected, she was already in, reviewing the schedule and other reports.

  He knocked on her open door and lifted a cup of tea. She smiled and gestured him in.

  “I didn’t expect to see you so early. Thanks for the tea.”

  “It’s chai. Thought you could use the caffeine.”

  She took an appreciative sip and sighed. “That’s good. Thanks.”

  He sat in the chair and crossed one leg over the other. “I think we’re ready. The team ended spring training on a nice little winning streak.”

  She snorted. “Second string players. The test will be today. We’re playing New York. They’re not a fan of the small ball game. On paper, they have the better pitchers and hitters, but if our plan works, we should be able to at least make it a game and not a blowout.”

  “At least the coaches are on board now.”

  She shrugged. “Sort of.” She eyed him over the cup of tea. “Is that what you came in early to do? Talk about the team and our chances this year? As if we haven’t discussed that to death already.”

  He grimaced. “I guess we need to talk about spring training, that night.”

  “Do we?” She asked thoughtfully and leaned back in her chair to study him. “I mean, we’re both consenting adults. It’s not like we expect anything from each other, right? It was fun, a nice night, and now it’s over. Unless you don’t want it to be over?”

  Her voice was neutral, not giving anything away. She had learned much about negotiation and was turning the tables on him, cool, calm, collected, while he wanted to kiss her, repeat that night over and over until he’d had his fill. It pissed him off to be dismissed so casually. And the thought bothered him even more than her being so nonchalant about them.

  He narrowed his gaze, but chose a different tack. “Is your father coming today?”

  “He just had a major heart attack and bypass surgery.” She grinned. “Okay, he tried to come, but his doctor and my mom refused.”

  “And that’ll stop him?”

  “Not exactly. I think my mom is crushing a valium or three in his morning coffee to knock him out. She’s tur
ning out to be quite the drill sergeant and a bit devious, too. She always drove me hard in pageants, but somehow she’s even more terrifying right now. I visit every couple of days but she’s militant about limiting the baseball talk.”

  “A typical Southern belle. Voice like an angel, steel rod for a spine. Sounds a lot like my mom.”

  “I don’t think I ever thanked you for that dinner. It was a lovely night.”

  And just like that, he was back to an aroused state. Remembering her clenching around him, her hands running over him, her nails digging into his back. He shifted in his chair, moving the coffee cup to hide his bulge.

  “She did all the work. She said you sent a note and flowers. That was kind. Mom loves flowers, especially white roses.”

  “Well, if that’s all?” She leaned forward and began leafing through papers.

  “Not exactly.” He stood and rested his coffee cup on the desk.

  He stalked around the desk while she studied him, wide-eyed and a bit uncertain. He turned her chair to face him, leaning over and caging her neatly between his hands that grasped the arms of the office chair. He slid one hand up to the nape of her neck, drawing her. He claimed her lips, swallowing her token protest under the onslaught of his kiss. His tongue mimicked their one night, thrusting deeply, seducing her, demanding her capitulation. Her mouth tasted of sweet Indian spices and honey from her tea, with hints of mint, and something else uniquely Miranda.

  He was drunk on her, oblivious to their surroundings, as she met him with a passion that took his breath away. Finally, a noise in the outer hallway tugged at his consciousness, reminding him her door was open and anyone could see them. He pulled away, satisfied to see the dazed look on her face. He pressed one last hard kiss on her lips then straightened.

  “You may think it was a one-night thing but it’s not over, Miranda. We will be together again. Soon.”

  He grabbed his coffee cup on his way out, greeting Cole with a slap on the shoulder.

  He loved Opening Day.