by Joanne Rock
“What if I had a boyfriend or a husband?”
He smiled for the first time since he’d stepped back into her life.
“I’ve been keeping tabs on you, too.” He reached to tuck that loose strand of hair into her headband, his other hand never leaving her thigh. “You’re still teaching and coaching youth softball. You’ve been dating, but there haven’t been any serious boyfriends besides the X-Games dude you told to take a hike a couple of weeks ago.”
She couldn’t believe he’d kept track, right down to her recent breakup. “The X-Games guy is actually an environmental engineer.” Her cheek tingled where he’d brushed away the stray strands.
“Whatever.” He rolled his eyes, unimpressed. “So he’s a hardcore granola eater. I watched his dirt bike routine one night to see what all the hype was about and I figured he’d break his neck by the time he’s thirty, then where would that leave you?”
He sounded protective, possessive and far too jealous for a guy whose dating life got press in newspapers, magazines and—for the really addicted sports fan—online. Nevertheless, she’d broken up with the X-Gamer for precisely the reasons he mentioned.
Of course, the X-Gamer hadn’t taken it so well. Ryan had quickly made it known that she hadn’t been breaking up with him because of what he did, but because he wasn’t Brody. Naomi had been furious. But she would have to find a way to get along with him eventually since he coached one of the other softball teams in her league. They had to see each other every weekend.
“Okay. I didn’t mean to suggest my private life was up for discussion. Clearly, you’ve got access to better research than I gave you credit for.” Someone from their hometown must be keeping him up-to-date on what she’d been doing. Naomi took small comfort in that since it meant she wasn’t the only one to seek out information on an ex.
Him.
Heaven knew, she’d never tried to find out what Ryan was doing in the short time since they’d split. Maybe that was because their relationship had run a more natural course, whereas she and Brody had broken up prematurely. Over the freaking telephone.
And what if there was a certain messed-up logic in Brody’s idea that they should have sex? Would it have helped cure her of Brody if things hadn’t ended so abruptly? If their relationship had died a more natural death?
“You’re free of emotional entanglements right now, and so am I.” He sat very still, not pressing his luck with the hand on her thigh, but not retreating, either. “Don’t you ever think about me? About what it would have been like if we’d stayed together?”
A lie sat on her tongue, all ready for automatic discharge. But just then, a flash of lightning brought a clap of thunder so loud the windowpanes rattled in the casements. She remembered the old childhood vow about “may I be struck dead” for lying and thought maybe she shouldn’t test the issue with lightning dancing all around the house.
“Sometimes. Maybe.” She shivered at the thought. Memories of endless kisses on the bench seat of his old pickup truck returned with sizzling clarity.
Ryan had accused her of being hung up on Brody and she’d denied it to him the same way she so often denied it to herself. But since she hadn’t managed a solid relationship with any of the guys she’d dated since the man in front of her, maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to prove in no uncertain terms that she could put Brody in her past. She could sleep with him, see that sex with him wasn’t the monumental experience her brain had built it up to be, and walk away from him for good.
It had been his idea, after all. He would hardly be surprised if she sent him packing in the morning.
“I’ve thought about it, too,” he admitted, his striped dress shirt open over a gray T-shirt that followed the lines of his perfectly maintained bod. “A lot. Too much lately.”
“Belated guilt?” she guessed, thinking about what it would be like to forget their shared past and launch herself into the arms of her fantasy man. No way could he live up to her memories of him. All the better for shuttling him out of her memory so she could get on with her life. “Better late than never, I guess.”
All thought of sending him away tonight was fading. Maybe it had been a moot point since the moment she’d opened her door. Something about his presence in her living room—asking for a replay of the past—felt inevitable. Destined.
“It’s not guilt that made me drive two hours in a downpour.” His gaze shifted south to linger on her mouth. “I couldn’t see the road half the time.”
“You’re too reckless by half,” she accused, her tongue darting along her suddenly dry lips.
Now that she’d given herself permission to be with him just this once, her body was responding with enthusiasm.
“There was a time you had a bit of a reckless streak yourself.” He twined a hand behind her neck and she was lost.
She wasn’t sure how she’d feel in the morning when Brody was excised from her life forever. But by her calculation, she had a good seven hours before she needed to worry about it.
“I think you bring out the brash side of me.” The man was an electric spark. He jolted everyone and everything around him.
And, tomorrow morning aside, Naomi couldn’t wait for her dose of sizzle.
SHE WAS GOING TO LET HIM STAY.
Brody read it in her eyes the second before he kissed her, and the magnitude of that gift hit him like a fastball to the chest. His heart damn near stopped.
Thankfully, the forward momentum of his mouth never slowed.
Her lips met his in a slow dance he hadn’t forgotten. This was Naomi. His girl. The One Who Got Away—but only because he’d let her go.
Shutting down the old thoughts before they stole tonight from him, too, Brody forgot everything else but kissing her. Fingers tunneling through her hair, he freed the jeweled headband to slip to the floor, welcoming the silken slide of the strands on his skin. He angled her head, deepening the kiss, giving her as much as she asked for. More.
Her hands roamed his back, her touch even more potent than he remembered. She traced the muscles he’d fought for in daily training sessions, her fingers missing nothing in their thorough tour of his upper body.
He drew her closer, lifting her up off the couch to sit on his lap, cradling her against him. She fit him perfectly, all lean curves and sleek limbs as she wound herself around him. Seeking even more contact.
But then, Naomi had never been the kind of person to doubt herself once she made a decision. She gave a hundred and ten percent to whatever she chose in life and—for tonight at least—she’d chosen him. Making no attempt to hide her hunger, she splayed a hand across his chest and slid it around his shoulder, sealing herself to him.
His control slipped a bit more and he pulled her hips tight to his. Their kiss heated, their tongues battling out an old score their bodies would settle once and for all.
“Do you need a bed?” No one had ever accused him of any great finesse with women, and he regretted the harsh sound of the words as they croaked from his throat.
For all of a second and a half.
Naomi’s eyes were unfocused and desire-filled as she stared up at him and frowned.
“Hell, no.” She traced his lower lip with her finger. “A bed is at least twenty feet away and I’m not giving you any chance to change your mind.”
He might have smiled, but the need to put his mouth back on hers was so fierce, he didn’t have time to.
Outside, the rain escalated to impossible volume, drowning out any other sounds. The primal, driving force of it echoed everything inside him, his relentless need for the woman in his arms.
Spearing a hand beneath her shirt, he covered the creamy skin with questing fingers. He made quick work of the hooks on her bra, a smooth expanse of satin that he pulled off along with her shirt.
Breaking the kiss, he had to see her, to revere what he’d unveiled. She was as curvy as he remembered, her breasts generous for her small frame. The taut pink crests were rosy and slightly upturned
, awaiting his mouth. Gladly, he obliged.
Tilting her back, he supported her with one arm and cupped the soft weight of her breast with his free hand. He kneaded her warm flesh, watching the way her eyes slid to half-mast, her breathing growing frantic.
Lowering his lips to one tight peak, he circled the tip with his tongue, drawing out the moment before he drew her deep in his mouth to suckle her. Not even the rain could smother her cry as he lavished kisses there.
Not content to savor her with his mouth alone, he trailed a hand down her stomach to the waistband of her thin cotton pajama pants. Unfastening the drawstring, he freed the waist, but didn’t penetrate the barrier yet, preferring to linger over the heat of her skin and the feel of her in his arms. He dipped a finger into the small depression of her belly button and she arched hard, calling out his name.
And then, playtime was over.
Naomi twisted his shirt in her hand, gripping the fabric tight to drag one layer and then the other up his shoulders and off. She slipped free from his grasp when he moved to help her, her pajama pants sliding to the floor to reveal a hot-pink thong with a rhinestone star on each hip. His hands were on her instantly, framing her waist, but she still wasn’t done with him. Her fingers plucked at his belt buckle, wrenching leather this way and that until she’d unfastened the belt, button and zipper in record time.
A flash of lightning crackled again, its appearance coinciding with a soft pop and the loss of electricity. The lamps faded to black, casting the room in darkness save for the bursts of lightning that provided a strobe effect.
If Naomi was concerned about the power outage, she sure didn’t show it. Her fingers never wavered from a slow track down his abs to the waistband of his shorts.
“Damn,” she whispered softly, leaning to press a kiss on his chest, her tongue darting out to trace a teasing circle just above his heart.
“What?” He didn’t want to interrupt what was happening between them, but for her he’d fix anything and everything that ticked her off.
“I didn’t get to see the best part,” she confided, her fingers slipping into his shorts to stroke the hard length of him.
“I think I could have fixed that problem if you’d waited to touch me.” Heat seared his skin, flaying his insides and torching all rational thought. “Now, I can’t do anything but this.”
He picked her up and held her against his chest, positioning the vee of her thighs to press against the tip of his erection. Lights flashed behind his eyes that didn’t have a damn thing to do with the storm. Naomi’s arms wrapped around him, clinging. Her breasts swelled against his chest.
His heartbeat kicked into overdrive, the thumping louder than a stadium full of fans at fever pitch. Anchoring her against him, he tugged down her panties with one hand until they slid to the floor.
Later, he would touch her. Taste her. Pile on so many orgasms she wouldn’t see any man but him for the next decade. Or ten.
But right now, he needed to be inside her. Laying her down on the sofa, he shed his shorts and felt around for his pants on the floor until he found the right pocket. He withdrew a condom and rolled it on, heedless of her hands tugging him down to the couch.
To her.
If he didn’t sheathe himself now, it wasn’t going to happen. It had been far too long since he’d touched her.
Positioning himself over her, he parted her thighs and allowed himself just one feel. Circling the hot center of her, his finger slid easily along the swollen folds. Her wordless plea assured him she was ready and he entered her in one breathless stroke.
Possessing her.
He felt the surge to his core, just the way he knew he would have every day for the last year if he hadn’t made a colossal mistake. Words of praise and commitment, reverence and—ah, hell—more than that bubbled in his throat.
Ruthlessly, he held it all back, determined to give her one night that wasn’t about anything else but pleasure.
She wrapped her legs around him, her slender thighs squeezing, locking. She arched her hips, meeting every stroke, taking all he had to give. He framed her face in his hands and kissed her, mirroring the slow glide of his hips with his tongue.
Heat blazed over his back, dotting his shoulders with sweat as he kept his movements seductively easy. Gentle. He could feel her tension mounting around him as she stilled, her breasts heaving with gusty breaths punctuated with little moans.
Just when she turned the most rigid, her fingers digging into his shoulders, he increased his pace. A cry wrenched from her lips. She writhed beneath him, so gorgeous in her pleasure, her muscles clenching his tight. He let go then, losing himself in the lush feel of her and the absolute perfection of the moment.
Later, he wrapped her tight in his arms, side by side on the couch. His heart slammed hard against his ribs for a long time afterward, as if it wanted to make itself known.
After all, he hadn’t just come here for one night with Naomi, no matter what he’d allowed her to think.
3
NAOMI’S ALARM WENT OFF, the wailing electronic beep ruining the great dream she’d been having about Brody…
Oh, wait. It hadn’t been a dream this time. She felt the very real proof wrapped around her, spooned against her in the tangle of sheets. The alarm hadn’t ended a great dream. It had ended her brief reunion with Brody, a one-night indulgence that had been far too delectable for words. Being with Brody had been…transporting. Amazing.
And oh, man, she was in over her head.
“You can’t seriously be thinking of getting out of bed at this hour.” Brody’s hand shifted where it lay on her hip, skating along the indentation of her waist and dipping lower to tease a response from her body that awakened it instantly.
“I coach kids’ softball on Saturday mornings, remember? I have no choice.”
Of course, she’d set the alarm early, after the power came back on, so she’d have time to say goodbye. Time for her heart to recover from her night with a man she’d always cared about more than she could admit. And their night together hadn’t done a damn thing to lessen the attraction.
The caring.
Her heart tightened in her chest. The parting was not going to be easy.
“Naomi.” He softened his tone and twisted her around in his arms so they faced each other.
Dawn hadn’t fully broken yet, so his expression remained shadowed. She hoped hers did, too, since she feared giving away the feelings last night had stirred.
“Mmm?”
“Breaking up with you was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”
Surprised but wary, she squinted through the dimness to meet his steely gaze. She had not expected to have this kind of conversation. Nor did she want to remember the aftermath of their breakup.
“I assume that’s why you opted out of splitting with me in person and chose to simply dial my digits while you were a thousand miles away.” The sheets cooled at the thought and she was grateful she’d left ample time before she needed to shower and be at the practice field.
She sent up a prayer of thanksgiving that the rain had stopped during the night. She needed that field to be dry enough to play on by 8:00 a.m. because she needed something to get her mind off Brody.
“I was a chicken shit and I hated myself for it, but I swear to you, I would not have been able to look you in the eye and tell you it was over when I still loved you like crazy.” His gaze never wavered, as if he spouted the God’s honest truth when she knew he was full of it.
Suddenly, the prospect of walking away from him this morning seemed a little easier.
“Don’t you dare lie to me after what we just shared—”
“How many times did people tell us how tough it would be to make a relationship work while I was on the road and you were here?”
“And you decided to buy into the naysayers’ logic without telling me? After all the plans we’d made for a future together?” She regretted the note of outrage in her voice that hinted at how much
he’d hurt her. What happened to using their night together to get him out of her head for good?
“I was going to spring training in Florida and then 162 games around the country while you were committed to a job here. How fair would it have been to ask you to wait for me while I traveled around the country with a major league team? How many relationships do you know that could have survived that?”
“Why didn’t you tell me that instead of giving me the heave-ho like I was some girl you picked up in a bar?” She was shaking with the memory of it even now. Or maybe she was shaking because he’d made her feel something incredible last night and then brought up all this garbage first thing this morning.
Why couldn’t they have parted civilly, with the taste of kisses on their lips, instead of angry words? But then, Brody always had a way of sweeping you into his world, firing you up and making you feel as passionate as he did. Good or bad, his emotions were contagious.
“I was too conflicted about the whole thing to have broken up with you if I hadn’t had your anger to seal the deal. I knew in my heart it was wrong to drag you out on the road with me when you were excited to buy a house and put down roots.” He ignored her spluttered protest and pressed a finger to her lips. “Besides, we’d hardly dated anyone but each other. I had this idea in my head that you should date other people so you wouldn’t resent me for monopolizing most of your romantic life.”
She wanted to argue about how unfair it had been to deceive her. About how wrong he’d been to make a big relationship decision without her, and to break her heart because he thought he knew what was best for her. But something—maybe the sincerity she saw in his eyes as the sunlight filtered through the blinds—made her think twice.
He’d been under a lot of pressure when he signed with the Aces. And his family had all been there with their hands out when they heard about his fat contract. As exciting as his career had been, it had shown him who his real friends were.