by Roz Lee
Jason’s foot let up on the accelerator, and for every mile an hour the car slowed, Jeff eased his death grip on the sucker bar.
“Spill,” Jason said as he swung the car down the exit ramp, coming to a stop inches from the bumper of another car stopped at the red light.
“There’s nothing much to spill. Doyle wasn’t talking trade. He just wanted to crawl up my ass about the blown saves.”
“What did you tell him?” The light turned and Jeff’s head hit the headrest as Jason punched the accelerator down.
“Shit. Who taught you to drive anyway? You’re going to get us killed.”
“Okay, okay, Grandpa.” He slowed to the prevailing speed on the wide, divided road. “Talk.”
“I told him I had it under control.”
“Do you?”
Jeff felt his brother’s gaze and turned his head. Sure enough, Jason was watching him, when he should have been watching the road. “Christ! Look where you’re going!”
“Calm down. It’s under control,” he said, swerving into the left lane and practically taking an extra bumper with him in the process. Jason’s word choice registered once the car was traveling at a safe speed.
“Just shut up, smartass, and get us home alive. Then you can butt out of my business.”
“Hey, it’s my business too, you know. I’d like to have a winning season and go to the playoffs too, so get this through your fucked up head. Forget about McCree. Focus on winning the games we can win, and let the rest of it go. Losing games we should have won isn’t going to fix the McCree problem.”
Jeff vowed never to accept a ride from his brother again as the car came to a screeching halt a split-second before they would have gone straight through the back wall of the garage. He mentally inventoried what was on the other side of that wall and decided never to eat at the breakfast table again, especially if there were a chance Jason might be coming home. He got his suitcase out of the trunk and took the duffel Jason pulled from the backseat. “Why don’t you concentrate on what you’re supposed to be doing, and I’ll concentrate on my job. How about that?”
“I’d say that was just fine, but it must be hard for you to concentrate on your job with head so far up your ass.”
* * * *
Megan parked in the garage stall next to where the guys kept their see-and-be-seen car, a red Mustang convertible. Since the stall was empty, they obviously had come home and left again, probably to get something to eat. She hadn’t had time to restock the kitchen while they’d been on the road, and even if she had, Jeff and Jason weren’t the types to cook when a perfectly good restaurant was a short drive away.
Her feet felt like two hot bricks attached to her ankles, and tension in her neck and shoulders had her head pounding. She loved her job, but sometimes the emotional toll it took on her was worse than the hours on her feet. Today was one of those days. She desperately wanted food, and to soak away the stress of her day in the big Jacuzzi tub in her bathroom. Megan dropped her purse on the kitchen counter, toed off her shoes and went straight to the refrigerator. The wine she’d opened the night before called her name. She grabbed the bottle and a bowl of cantaloupe and watermelon leftover from breakfast that morning. Along with a hunk of cheddar cheese and some crackers, she had the makings of dinner.
She spread the feast on the center island and used the last of her energy to climb onto a barstool. She rolled her shoulders and filled her glass. It never did any good to bring her work home with her. That road led to nothing but depression, and she couldn’t afford to be anything but optimistic in front of her patients and their families. Of course, there was nothing wrong with celebrating the victories, but those were few and far between, these days. The pediatric wing was no place for the weak-hearted. Nurses didn’t last long there if they didn’t learn how to leave the bad at the hospital. When one of the new nurses broke down and said she couldn’t do it anymore, they called Megan at the last minute to handle her shift. She didn't even have a chance to call Jeff and Jason and warn them she wouldn’t be there to pick them up. An apology of Texas-sized proportions was in order, but it would have to wait until they got home.
Tilting her glass to her lips, she closed her eyes and savored the bold, fruity flavor of the wine. A faint sound or maybe it was a change in the air around her made her go still. She managed to swallow the wine in her mouth a fraction of a second before heavy hands rested on her shoulders and a hard male body pressed against her back. Her heart thudded against her ribs as she recognized Jeff’s familiar scent.
“I missed you.” He spoke against her ear as his hands began to knead her tight shoulders.
“You scared the life out of me,” she complained even as her spine wilted and she slumped against him.
“Didn’t mean to. I thought you would have heard me. I’ve been standing in the doorway watching you for several minutes.” His hands continued to release the knots in her muscles as he spoke. Megan was putty in his hands, she always had been.
“I thought you were both gone.”
“Jason went out. I don’t know when he’ll be home.” He sounded way too happy about Jason’s decampment, but Megan was too tired to care.
“I’m dead on my feet, Jeff.” His hands stilled for a second, then continued to knead.
“Me too.” He pushed her long hair to one side and nibbled his way from her earlobe to the neckline of her scrubs. “God, you smell good,” he whispered against her neck right before his tongue swept along the pulse beating there. Megan, tired or not, couldn’t help responding to the need, the desire contained in those few simple words. This was the Jeff she loved. The one who made could melt her with a touch or a few words.
“I smell like disinfectant,” she said. “I need a hot bath.”
“Let me run one for you,” he purred against her neck. “I’ll even wash your back.”
Jeff,” she sighed as fatigue drained away, and desire rushed in to fill all the empty spaces left behind. His hands slipped to her waist, then around to pull her tight against him. It felt so good to lean into him, to let him support her. “Bad day?”
She shrugged. “No worse than usual. Two new patients. Two new sets of anxious parents and assorted relatives.” It was partially the truth. She tried to retain a professional distance between her patients and her, but sometimes one would touch her heart in ways she couldn’t ignore. Christopher had been like that. He was one of the success stories, primarily because of Jeff, and he’d always have a special place in her heart. Because of Christopher, she’d met Jeff and Jason.
But, she reminded herself, there were no guarantees with the children she worked with. Letting Caroline steal her heart was probably a mistake of epic proportions, but the child was precocious and wise beyond her seven years. Her prognosis wasn’t good. The doctors were doing all they could to stop the progress of her condition, but unless she received a heart transplant soon, she wouldn’t live to see another birthday.
Megan shook off the melancholy. Jeff didn’t need to hear about her troubles – not this late in the season when the Mustangs were in a heated race for a playoff spot. His obsession with making the playoffs was only surpassed by his obsession with striking out Martin McCree. He needed to remain focused. He didn’t need the extra burden of her worries.
Jeff’s hands felt so good on her, stroking her arms from wrist to shoulder. Bit by bit, she began to let the stress go. “That feels good.”
“Bring the wine and I’ll help you relax.” How could she turn down an invitation like that? She slid off the barstool and into Jeff’s arms. It had been a long time since she’d had time alone with Jeff, and no matter how awful her day had been, he always had the ability to make her forget everything but him. So what if he didn’t want the kind of relationship she wanted? He wanted her, and she wanted him, and that was enough for now. Maybe she was pathetic, but she’d take whatever he was offering.
* * * *
She sipped wine in a tub full of perfumed bubbles while Jef
f sat on the edge mostly watching the burgundy liquid swirl around in his glass. He dimmed the lights and even lit the fragrant candles she had scattered around the room. The hot water leached away the tension in her muscles, and the wine helped smooth the ragged edges of her thoughts. For the first time in days, she felt relaxed. “I don’t want to talk about work tonight,” she said. “Not yours, or mine.”
“What do you want?”
“I want you.” She placed her glass on the wide ledge next to the bottles of bath salts and bubble bath. “Join me?”
Jeff peeled his clothes off, and with the removal of each piece, Megan slipped further away from her day. The muscles in his arms bunched and lengthened as he folded each garment. His upper torso was all hard planes and valleys that made her fingertips itch to touch him. She followed the path of his jeans and boxers as he pushed them to his ankles in one smooth motion. He turned away from her, giving her a superb view of his ass. She admired the way the muscles flexed as he pulled his jeans free of one foot, then the other. There was something about the rugged strength of his legs…and then he turned around and whatever thought had been forming evaporated like water on a hot griddle.
His cock stood as ready as she’d ever seen it. He wanted her. Oh God, and how she wanted him!
He stepped into the tub and slid in behind her. She fit into the cradle of his legs like a piece of a jigsaw puzzle. His erection was a rigid support against the small of her back. Her body responded in age-old invitation, going on heightened alert, and at the same time softening, inviting his attentions.
“Come on,” he said. His hands gripped her shoulders and pulled her gently down against his chest. “Let me hold you.”
She gave in to his coaxing and slumped boneless into his embrace. His heat enveloped her and what little tension remained from her workday dissipated, replaced by need and anticipation. Jeff stroked his hands from her shoulders to her fingertips, and back again. The worry she’d carried home with her slipped away. As his hands moved to her stomach and up to cover her breasts, her head fell to his shoulder and she closed her eyes to better concentrate on the tactile sensations.
He handled her as if she was the most delicate of creations, but it was the strength beneath his touch that excited her. Her heart thudded slow and steady as if pumping sweet molasses through her system all the while her body yearned for more. More of his touch. More of him.
“You are so beautiful,” he whispered into the silence. He lifted her breasts, brushing his thumbs over her nipples. They tightened into hard little nubs surrounded by rosy puckered bunting. “So responsive.” He continued to play with her nipples, now so sensitive each flick of his callused thumbs made her arch her back. “I love to touch you like this.” He cupped her breasts hard and she cried out and thrust herself toward the source of the painful pleasure.
Her startled cry was quickly replaced by a groan of sheer pleasure as he trailed his hands lower, across her midriff and closer to the part of her now so eager for his attention.
“Please.”
“Shh.” His hands splayed across her stomach. “All in due time, sweetheart. All in due time.”
Megan clamped her jaw tight against the need to beg him further. Instead, she dug her fingernails into his thighs raised on either side of her like great, forested mountains sheltering a lush valley. Where she’d been languid in the safe framework of his embrace, now her heart beat with a new, impatient rhythm.
“I want to make this last a very long time. I promise to give you what you want, but it will be so much more if you let me decide when you can have it.”
Oh God. Isn’t this the very thing that had kept her in Jeff and Jason’s bed for so long? This promise of ecstasy they were both so skilled at delivering? Her body wept with need, but her brain understood. Surrender her body and the reward would be almost too magnificent to bear when it came. And it would come, she would come.
“Yes,” she said on a desperate sigh.
“So sweet. So trusting.” One hand dipped between her legs and parted her folds while the other held her firm in his grasp. The heat of his erection pressed into her back while the palm of his hand radiated warmth to her most intimate parts. “I love to feel you when you’re ready for me. God, your pussy is so swollen.” His fingers toyed with her engorged outer lips. “It must be the animal in me. This makes me crazy with wanting you.”
Her mind registered his voice as he stoked a fire inside her that threatened to burn them both if he didn’t do something quick to put it out. She ached to take him inside her, to feel his hard length invading her body, claiming her as he had so many times before.
“Ahh,” he sighed as his thumb found her clit and applied pressure in a slow, circular rhythm that intensified the ache. “Your body calls to me, Megan. But I won’t come inside you until I’ve taken you as high as you can go.”
It wasn’t an empty promise. Jeff knew her body, knew how to touch her, how to master her, how to make her weak, and how to make her shatter in his arms. Even when they were with Jason, it was Jeff’s touch that moved her, Jeff’s body that she craved more than her next breath. It had been months since she’d been alone with Jason, but she couldn’t deny Jeff. When she was alone with him, she felt a soul deep connection she couldn’t explain. It was as if he was made for her, and she for him.
“I’ve got to feel you,” he whispered near her ear. “Spread for me. Let me in.”
Somewhere she found the muscle control to lift her feet, draping her legs over Jeff’s. He let his legs fall to the side, spreading her wide. She gasped at his blunt invasion. Two fingers, maybe three all at once. Conquering her with his first pitch. His hand pressed to her stomach kneading her tensed muscles, coaxing her to accept him. “Christ, you’re tight and hot.” He flexed his fingers against her inner walls and she shuddered around him.
“Not yet,” he admonished as he pulled his fingers to her rim. “You know better, sweetheart.” She heard the smile in his voice. He loved this, playing her like he did the weaker batters. Give them a taste of what they want with the first pitch, then take it back with the next. He toyed with her inner lips before plunging back inside up to his third knuckles. His fingers fluttered inside her like a three-headed beast, then he retreated.
Megan gasped and fought against his firm hold. The delicious torture threatened her sanity, while it drove her toward something so bright and shiny she couldn’t comprehend it. All she knew was she had to reach it, and if she trusted Jeff, if she gave herself into his care, he would take her there. He always had.
He continued his assault on her senses, alternating between blunt, hard invasions, and gentle, maniacal strokes. And with each one, he pushed her one step closer to the indescribable pleasure he’d promised. He kept up his monologue long past the time she was able to discern his words. His voice reassured and coached, and as the water around them cooled, her body absorbed his heat as it succumbed to his skill.
At last, he plunged his fingers into her and set up a fast, hard rhythm. He nipped her ear lobe to get her attention before whispering in her ear. “Come for me, sweetheart. Let go.”
She responded to the command in his voice and the demand from his fingers. Her body began to gather into a tight coil, ready to spring free. His fingers speared her one more time. With practiced precision, he found the soft palate of tissue on her vaginal wall and pressed her clit hard against her pubic bone. Time ground to a stop. The spring coiled inside her unwound with the force of a tornado, sweeping her up in the vortex and spinning in her head until she was lost and dizzy. Pleasure, wild and untamed, swirled through her.
Suddenly, she was flying. Her knees struck the hard marble bottom of the tub and something, someone, clamped her hands on the edge of the tub. Her knees slid apart as Jeff wedged himself between her legs. Still dazed from the strength of her orgasm, she cried out as Jeff parted her, driving hard into her pussy from behind. He rode her like a man too long denied, and when she thought she couldn’t possibly come
again, or come any harder, he took her up and into a storm of passion and pleasure she wasn’t sure she would survive.
Clinging to the edge with white knuckles, she took all he gave, and gave all she had. His fingers dug into her hips, holding her for his assault. Tepid water sloshed against the sides of the tub as he rocked into her. Her breasts bounced with each solid thrust. Her arms burned with the strain of supporting her body. The slap of wet skin against wet skin mirrored the hammering of her heart.
This was primal. Primitive. Jeff dominated and she submitted. She’d never felt more powerful, knowing this man who rarely lost control could not contain his need for her. That she alone made him feel this way.
He’d never shown so much of himself to her. His cock grew harder, bigger inside her. His fingers dug painfully into her hips. A familiar need tightened inside her. Jeff cursed, drove hard into her, and with short, deep thrusts, poured his essence into her. With the first spurt of hot cum, Megan lost her tenuous hold on her control. Her climax slammed into her, impossibly harder than before. Her pussy milked his cock, demanding he give her everything.
She would have slipped face first into the water, had Jeff not wrapped his arm around her waist for support. He sat back on his heels, pulling her with him so she sat in his lap, her back against his front, impaled on his cock. Unable to speak, she let him hold her until his cock grew soft and he slipped from her. He helped her from the tub, wrapped her in a soft towel from the warming rack on the wall, all the while supporting her against his rock-solid body. She was putty in his hands. She always had been.
* * * *
Jeff wrapped his arm around Megan’s waist and snuggled against her back. Her hair smelled like some kind of flower, and her soft skin was warm and flushed from their recent lovemaking. Once in the bathtub hadn’t been enough to sate his need for her. After he dried her, he carried her to his bedroom and made love to her again. As she relaxed into slumber, he wondered if he ever would get enough. From the moment he’d first seen her, reaching out to him for his autograph, he’d felt like an invisible cord connected him to her. It had been natural to share her with Jason, but as time passed, he’d begun to think of Megan as his. Nights like this only served to reinforce the feeling. He liked being alone with her. She made him forget all about the Mustangs, and Martin McCree, and how fucked up his life was. When it was just the two of them, he could fool himself into believing she loved him, and only him. That maybe they could have a life together, as a couple.