by Joanne Rock
Her teeth clenched as she hitched in a breath, her back arching to increase the friction of their bodies.
“I deserve this. Just exactly this.”
He rolled one hardened peak between his thumb and forefinger, knowing he was lost to this. To her. If she wasn’t going to say no, he didn’t have a prayer.
Just then, a flash of light filled the room.
Delaney let out a cry of alarm. What the hell?
Rick turned to see what was happening, wondering if someone from the cleaning crew had returned. But there was no mop cart or floor cleaner inside. Just a brief glimpse of a tall, skinny guy with a camera.
“Hey!” Rick shouted, unable to go throttle the guy without letting go of the half-naked woman in his arms and exposing her to the intruder.
“It’s okay.” Delaney wriggled free of him. “I’m fine. Go get him.”
Needing no more encouragement, Rick sprinted toward the spy, but the son of a bitch was right next to the emergency exit near the stairs. Calling on the speed that made him a stealing threat on base, Rick jumped a bench between him and the door and took off up the stairs.
If he didn’t catch this guy, there would be hell to pay when his picture appeared in the paper with a half-naked Delaney pinned against the lockers. Her father was going to love that.
Rick would be out of Atlanta before tomorrow night’s game.
Turning the corner to take another flight of stairs, he heard a car start in the distance. In the employee parking lot. Spinning around, he went back to the previous landing and plowed through the heavy metal door in time to see a car burn rubber on its way out of the lot.
Cursing a blue streak, he knew he was screwed. And not in the good way.
No wonder he’d kept his head down and his nose clean for two years with the Rebels. The one time he gave himself permission to enjoy life, it bit him on the ass with a surefire ticket off the team.
But even as the curtains threatened to fall on his career, Rick turned to jog back down the stairs to Delaney. If he was going to be lambasted publicly for his indiscretion, he would damn well have the satisfaction of seeing their encounter through to completion.
2
THERE WAS SOMETHING foreboding about Rick’s footsteps on the stairs.
Delaney heard it as she retrieved the sarong from the floor and retreated back to the main office to find more substantial clothing. She needed to speak to someone on the building staff about tightening up security at night, but her thoughts were too scattered to follow through on the task now.
She’d made a play for Rick and it had backfired with flare. Now she owed it to him to do the damage control it would take to protect his position with the Rebels. No doubt about it, her father would have him shipped to Seattle or Arizona—somewhere far from here—even if he had to trade for less talent. Her daddy might accept that he couldn’t interfere in her life anymore, but he’d have no qualms about interfering with someone else’s if he thought he was protecting her.
Damn it.
She adored her family, but they had never thought twice about meddling in her affairs. Some days she still wondered if it had been a bad decision to work for her father since it put her very much within his reach if he chose to stick his nose in her business. But the work was fun and exciting, a family legacy she was as proud of as any other Blair.
“Delaney.” Rick’s deep voice sliced right through her churning panic, putting all her focus back on him.
A shiver tickled her skin as a parade of sweet, sensual memories reminded her how exhilarating it had felt to be in this man’s arms after fantasizing about him for too long.
She looked up to find him in the doorway between the locker room and the reception area of the front offices.
“He got out of the building?” She was already unlocking her office, needing access to her computer if she wanted any hope of spinning the story. “Any chance you recognized him from press conferences? If we can figure out who he works for—”
“A guy like that wouldn’t be at a press conference. Anyone snapping those kinds of pics isn’t a member of the legitimate media.” He followed her into her office, his shirt still half-buttoned from her roaming fingers.
Wow. She couldn’t help a moment to admire the view since she wasn’t going to be able to capitalize on it tonight. Rick needed her help now.
“I’m so sorry I put you in such an awkward position.” She shouldn’t feel embarrassed—that had been the whole point of her disrobing tonight. But she was confused and worried and still extremely turned on.
Being a selective dater had left her without a man in her life for almost two years—a fact that coincided neatly with Rick’s arrival in town. And frankly, doing without for two years made a woman—edgy.
“What awkward position?” He shrugged. “I had my clothes on and I was standing in front of you so no one will know you were undressed. The way I see it, those photos are going to cause the kind of public flap that keeps sports stars in the papers. It’s not always a bad thing.”
While her brain grappled to comprehend how he could think this wasn’t a crisis in the extreme, he turned to close her office door. Then he locked them inside.
She jumped at the sound of the lock catching.
“What are you doing?” She clicked through a few keys on the computer, hoping for inspiration on how to handle this situation. She’d worry about beefing up security tomorrow. Tonight, she needed to help Rick prepare for a media tsunami.
“I’m making sure lightning doesn’t strike twice.” He stalked toward her.
He couldn’t be suggesting what she thought. And then it occurred to her what he meant.
“You want to be sure there are no more unwanted intruders.” How crappy that they had to think that way in the heart of a building owned by one of the best bank-rolled teams in baseball. “But I don’t think our picture taker would be stupid enough to come back here tonight.”
She moved to take a seat at her desk. He moved faster. Planting himself in the leather chair, he was already there when she ended up in his lap.
“Good.” He gathered her legs in his arm and spun her so she sat crosswise on his thighs. “We can finish what we started.”
The thrill of delicious possibility tickled her skin.
But she could not let it sweep her away again. She’d been so damn close to exactly what she’d wanted and instead she’d ended up with a publicity nightmare on her hands.
“No.” She had to close her eyes when she said it. She couldn’t have refused that hot look in his eyes otherwise. Not after she’d dreamed about Rick looking at her this way for so very long. “I need to salvage this before those photos show up somewhere and—”
“Why?” He ran one hand up her thigh, his touch impeded by such a thin layer of silk she could feel every nuance of his palm through the fabric. “The damage is done. We might as well wrest every ounce of pleasure out of this night if we’re going to pay the price for it tomorrow.”
His fingers began to bunch the sarong in his palm, lifting it higher on her thigh with each clench of his fist. She had to squeeze her thighs tight to stifle the stir of liquid heat between her legs.
“But the damage hasn’t been done.” Levering herself upright, her hip grazed the evidence of his desire straining the fly of his khakis. She could have cried with the frustration she felt at having to ignore it. “I can’t let you suffer the consequences of bad press and my father’s retribution if there’s any chance we can buy those pictures or halt the story.”
“I’m a grown man. I make my own choices and I take full responsibility for my actions.” His level look dared her to challenge him. He kept his arms around her hips, holding her there.
“I know.” Her heart beat faster at his declaration, further proof that he was an honorable man worthy of her trust. “And while I admire that about you tremendously, the truth is I caught you off guard by stripping down in the locker room and effectively instigated the whole thing beca
use—”
She stopped herself just in time. Yet, judging by the narrowing of his gaze, her save hadn’t been timely at all.
“Because why?”
She took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of lemon oil on the freshly polished office furniture and a hint of spicy aftershave.
“Because I’ve had a bit of a crush on you for a long time.” It was true. It just wasn’t the whole truth. So she braved a little more. “Because I was afraid you’d leave at the end of the season without me ever getting to know you and I—didn’t want to wait for life to happen to me anymore.”
She watched him, hoping that would be enough for him to release her, to let her go to work on fixing the mess she’d made. Given a little time, she knew she could find that rogue photographer. The pool of sleazy journalists in Atlanta was small and the pool of folks who would cover baseball stars was even smaller.
“Why now?” Rick asked, as if he’d telepathically keyed in on that one kernel of information she’d hoped to keep quiet. “Why tonight?”
The temptation to fib came and went in about a nanosecond. She’d gone into contract law because she’d known she’d never be a litigator. It just wasn’t in her nature to lie, especially not to a man with the kind of upstanding values that made her notice him from day one. Rick Warren was the go-to player on the team when you needed a base hit or to advance a runner. An unselfish player, he did his job year in and year out whether or not he got the spotlight or the fattest contracts. And she admired the heck out of him.
Her tongue darted out to moisten lips gone suddenly dry. Bracing herself, she revealed the truth.
“I had a cancer scare.”
The clock ticking on the wall above her office desk reverberated through the room like it was counting down the seconds until doomsday.
“Are you okay?” He unlocked his hold on her hips to grip her shoulders, squaring her body to his as if to take the news head-on.
She nodded, her throat suddenly tight with the memory of all the fears and scenarios that had gone through her head two weeks earlier when she’d been terrified that a doctor might tell her she had a finite time left.
“I’m fine.” She released a shaky breath. “Wonderfully, gratefully fine. There was a lump—” she gestured toward her breast where a tiny stitch remained “—but it was benign. Just a scare that had me up at night thinking about what I’d do differently if—”
Her throat closed up again.
He rubbed her shoulder, a touch of comfort that turned sensual when he laid his palm on her neck and stroked her cheek with slow sweeps of his thumb.
“I like what you did differently.”
Her eyes locked on his, searching for clues that he was teasing her.
“Not just because you took off your clothes.” He shifted their weight in her leather office chair, tipping back so that she had no choice but to lean into him. Her head came to rest on his shoulder, her ear close enough to his heart to feel its steady beat. “Although that was great, too. But I’m glad you put yourself in my path tonight. I noticed you as soon as I was traded to the team, but I put you out of my mind because of who you are.”
“The owner’s daughter.” She recognized the conflict of interest there. “I didn’t think it was a good idea in theory, either. But on those sleepless nights when I had too much time to think…I didn’t care about that.”
Rick let her words flow over him as he held her, knowing there was a message in there for him, too.
She thought she’d been playing it safe on life’s sidelines for too long?
He’d walked around the Rebels’ clubhouse for two years with his headphones on and his focus on baseball, never resorting to the showboating crap the younger players used to make a name for themselves with the fans or the media. He wasn’t hitting the weights every day or chugging protein like water in an effort to hit one out every at bat. Most of the big sluggers would never think of a sac fly or batting around the bases.
And while Rick was proud of the kind of ball he’d played during his ten years in the majors, he sometimes wondered if he shouldn’t draw a little more attention to himself. Not because he wanted the glory. But what if the next generation of players in the game were only hearing about power hitters and home runs? If the strategists didn’t step up now and then to talk about the finer points of winning, the league might not attract the kind of guys it took to round out a team.
Yeah, Rick could very much appreciate the need to do things differently. To step out of the safe zone into the spotlight even if it wasn’t comfortable.
“I don’t care about the fallout from this.” He rejigged her weight on his lap, seized with a sense of purpose where both she and his career were concerned. The new position put them eye to eye again. “I don’t want to spend another second thinking about some sleazy photographer or what might happen tomorrow.”
“I can’t allow you to be traded because of me.”
“I want you to let me handle this.” He had a plan and he’d figure out how to implement it tomorrow. “For now, I’d just like to help you celebrate your good news. Your good health.”
She shook her head, ready to argue. He kissed her to press his point. He didn’t stop until she softened against him, her body boneless as she molded herself to him.
“I must be crazy,” she whispered, when he finally broke the kiss.
“No. You’re just living on your own terms, remember?” His heart slugged hard against his chest, his adrenaline cranked at the thought of being with her. Seeing her burst into the dark locker room in her bright colors tonight had been like someone turned on a light switch in his head. “Are you okay with this?”
He skimmed his fingers along the top of the sarong and tugged gently on one end of the knot.
She swayed toward him.
“You’re very convincing.” Her eyelids fluttered and closed by a fraction.
“So are you.” He pulled the end of the fabric and unfastened the knot, unveiling the lemon-yellow bra he’d glimpsed earlier and releasing a hint of her scent. “The sarong almost gave me a coronary when you strolled into the locker room in that thing.”
She placed a hand on his heart.
“How about now?”
“Do your worst.” He could feel his pulse spike at her attention, his blood rushing through his veins with the heat of knowing he’d have her soon. “I’m all yours.”
He wrapped her tight in his arms, fitting her curves to the aching heat of him. Any reservation he’d had about this in the locker room had incinerated, leaving only desire and possessiveness for this shy, sharp woman who could have any man she wanted and chose him.
Unbelievable.
Capturing her mouth with his, he kissed her hard. She tasted so sweet he couldn’t possibly get enough. Not in just one night. But that didn’t stop him from exploring the slick, smooth surface of her teeth or the velvet glide of her tongue at length.
The temperature in the office flared hotter than a sauna. His skin pricked with a primal need to clear her desk with the sweep of his arm and take her here. Now. Instead, he lifted her out of the chair, standing with her in his arms to cross the dimly lit room where a long, low couch awaited. Her computer and a small desk lamp cast a bluish glow around them as they fell onto the sofa, her back cradled in his arm when they dropped into the cushions.
He levered back enough to look at her. She made a mouth-watering picture, her eyes glazed with passion and her lips red and plump from his kisses. Her silky dark hair fanned out around her shoulders, an inky-black background for the brightly colored undergarments he couldn’t wait to take off.
“I would like a better look, too,” Delaney whispered, her hand moving to his belt buckle. “You have a few fantasies to live up to, you know.”
With a roll of his shoulders, he had his shirt off since the buttons had been undone earlier.
“Is that right?” The thought of her fantasizing about him singed any restraint he might have had. “I like the idea
of you lying in your bed thinking about me.”
He unfastened his fly and stepped out of his pants. Her eyes never left his body, her gaze following his every move.
“I’m glad I can do more than just think about you this time.” She reached for the waistband of his boxers, one shiny red nail dipping below the black cotton elastic.
He stopped her, unsure how much foreplay he could withstand given the long drought in his sex life. He’d barely dated in the last two years. There’d been a couple of girls in all that time, but they’d been mutually casual hookups that had barely taken the edge off.
“I’m going to be honest. I’ll need to be inside you about two seconds after you touch me, so maybe we should make plans for protection first.” He had nothing with him since he’d had no reason in the world to guess the sensual feast he’d walk into today when he arrived at work.
“You didn’t feel this earlier?” She reached into her bra and withdrew a foil packet from the left cup. “I didn’t have a pocket, so I was forced to work with what I had.”
“Very resourceful.” He took the condom and laid it on the coffee table before pushing the glass-topped piece aside. Kneeling beside her, he positioned himself near her hips. “I’ve got a few hidden surprises myself.”
He saw her eyes widen as he bent to kiss the patch of satin that covered her mound. And then he didn’t see anything else, his world narrowed to the scent and taste of her as he kissed her intimately.
Delaney gasped at the feel of his tongue taking shocking liberties with her. She’d never—well, she’d just never. Even her one long-term relationship had been more cerebral, the sex more restrained. But oh. The way Rick touched her, kissed her, was exquisite.
She heard her own harsh cries, but was powerless to contain them as he swept aside her panties for better access. She considered protesting for the space of a heartbeat, but then she remembered her original quest for the night.
No more tiptoeing around the fringes of life. She planned to dive right in.