“Bathroom.” We race to the only place offering us privacy. When the door clicks behind us, Jax turns the lock and finds my mouth. We don’t have much time—my kids are light sleepers—so I quickly undo his pants while he assaults my mouth. He walks me backward until my ass touches the counter. In one swift move, he spins me around while lifting my dress. His fingers skim down the curves of my hips until my ass fits in both of his palms. When I catch his reflection—the way the heat overtakes him as he stares at my ass—I’m so overcome with desire I’m practically dizzy. Without warning, he rips away my underwear, the material falling to my ankles.
His gaze latches onto mine and refuses to let go. “I planned on this going way different. So, I apologize for the roughness.”
“Just fuck me, Jax.” Right this minute, I need it rough. I need his cock buried deep inside me to wipe away any residual worry, to fill my mind with nothing but him.
“God, I love you.”
I don’t have time to register his words or ponder if he really means them. In a swift movement, he bends me over the counter and drives his cock inside. It’s a little painful, but a whole lot fulfilling. The moment’s so freaking hot I completely surrender. I’ve been anticipating him fucking me all day; this roughness is exactly what I need. What I want.
He grabs a fistful of my hair and tugs it toward him. My ass pushes right into him while my back arches, my chest lifting off the counter enough for him to slip his free hand underneath. His mouth zeros in on my neck, nipping, sucking as he palms my breast. He continues to drive into me with carnal force, alternating between flicking and squeezing my nipple. My hands grip the slick marble surface but there’s nothing to hang on to. I press them flat against the counter while pressure builds deep in my core. I bite my tongue to keep the moan from slipping out.
“Open your eyes,” his deep voice commands. I obey. His eyes reflect the same heated look as mine. The slapping of our hips echoing in the room and his rock-hard body slamming into mine is so erotic that it sends me right over the edge. My walls clamp down and convulse around his cock as he slams a few hard thrusts into me. When his heat fills my insides, it’s only then I realize we hadn’t used a condom. There isn’t any worry on my end, as far as pregnancy goes, but he doesn’t actually know that, yet.
“You’re so Goddamn perfect,” he whispers in my ear.
Chapter Twenty-Two
JOCELYN
Current Day
Great. What is he doing here? After two exchanges and a delayed flight with three very tired kids, the last thing I want to see parked in my driveway is the familiar black Mercedes. I no more get parked when he flies out of the car, red-faced and glaring. I bite back every curse word screaming in my head. If I gambled, my bet would be that damn jaw muscle is twitching in overdrive. So much for the truce we agreed upon at Thanksgiving.
“Okay, kids. Give your daddy a hug and then get inside.” I step onto the concrete and pivot to get Melanie. “What do you want, Carl?”
Melanie picks this moment to wail, blocking his answer. I can’t fault her, though. The poor girl’s exhausted. She fell asleep at the second departure lounge, but with all the jostling she’s been through, she’s anything but rested. Traveling with three kids is way easier with Jax. I must’ve been an idiot attempting this alone.
“Daddy, Daddy, we saw Mickey and Minnie Mouse.” Trenna shoots Carl a toothy grin. Her dishwater blonde curls, matted under the Minnie Mouse headband she refuses to remove, frame her excited face. Jax bought the kids souvenirs our last day at Disney World, and the gifts were a huge hit. Especially with Trenna. I think he made a friend for life.
“You can tell Daddy all about it later. Go inside. I need to talk to Mommy.”
Her face falls, but Melanie’s constant whining prevents any offer of comfort I could give. “Come on, kids.” I juggle Mel in my arms and traipse to the front door. The bastard could offer to get the luggage, but he’s too busy stewing about God only knows what.
“Let me take care of her,” I say when we walk through the door.
“Fine, get the kids settled, then we’ll talk.” He huffs and stalks over to his—no, not his, my—recliner. As he settles into the seat, I study him for a beat. Flashes of the years play through my mind. I always was the one who took care of the kids. I fed them, changed them, played with them, bathed them, and put them to bed. The bastard hasn’t seen them for a week, and he’s more concerned with whatever I did to piss him off than tucking his kids in for the night.
After I get Melanie settled, I check in with the twins. In their beds snuggled under the covers, Trenna still wears her headband.
“Hey, sweet pea. Don’t you think we can take this off now?”
“No, Mickey doesn’t want me to.” She yawns and clutches Mickey Mouse.
“We don’t want the ears to get smashed when you roll over.”
“I be real still.”
I laugh. “Okay, sweetie. Love you bunches. I’ll see you in the morning.” We rub noses, and I kiss her on her forehead, careful not to mess up her ears.
“Mommy?” Tristan calls out.
“Yeah, honey.” I sit next to him, and he watches me pull the covers over his shoulders.
“I really like Jax.” He narrows his eyes like he’s deep in thought. “Is he going to live with us?”
Wow, I didn’t expect that. This is too heavy of a conversation for this time of night. And with his father sitting in my living room, no less. “No, honey. He’s back to playing baseball, so we won’t get to see him too much.”
“But he’s really nice to us.”
“He is.” I bite my lip because it pains me that my kids have gotten close so quickly. We will try to make this work, but it won’t be easy. Girls, like the one who approached me in the bathroom, will always be around to destroy our relationship. Our relationship. It’s so fragile and new. Toss in my trust issues, along with the inability to bear children, and we have one hell of a bumpy ride ahead of us.
“I don’t want him to go away.” His words come out low and rushed, and I almost miss them. I smile down at him and kiss his forehead.
“Me either, but for now, get some sleep.” I hold back a sigh. Parenting sure isn’t easy.
“Carl, it’s been a long day. Can we discuss this tomorrow?” I ask when I enter the living room.
He purses his lips as he studies me for a moment. He releases the foot mechanism, and for a fragment of time, I think he’s going to comply.
“What I have to say won’t take long.”
Of course not. Why would I ever think he’d be considerate? “Then go ahead and say it because I still have things to get done.”
“What, like calling your boyfriend?”
Yes, but he doesn’t need to know that. Jax wanted me to call as soon as I was home safe. I texted him about the delayed flight, so he shouldn’t be worried, yet.
“No, things like bringing in the suitcases. I did just get back from a trip.” I take off toward the kitchen. Surely, I have some wine tucked somewhere. Technically, I won’t be drinking alone since Carl is here, and I have a feeling I’ll need it.
“And that’s what I came to talk about.” The chair creaks and groans followed by heavy-footed steps clanking against the hardwood. Great, he’s following me into the kitchen. “I don’t like my kids jetting off halfway across the country.”
“You knew we were going.” I grab one glass, hoping he gets the hint. “And the kids had a fun time. They’ve never been anywhere before.”
“I don’t want them exposed to the company he keeps.”
“Who? Zach and Lacey?”
“No, the whores that flit around him.”
My back straightens. “One, watch your language. You don’t need to use that word around my kids. And there weren’t any…women flaunting themselves.” Not really. Just the one. And she mainly came after me, not him. I take a sip and head back to the living room.
“They’re my kids, too.” He shakes his head and blo
ws out a breath. “You’re going to stand there, looking me in the eye, and tell me there weren’t any women hitting on him?”
“No, not really. And certainly not around the kids. Why would you even think that?”
“It’s inevitable, Jocelyn. Think about it. He’s a baseball player with a bad reputation. What do you think will happen during spring training? He’s just going to hole himself up in the condo for six weeks? Open your damn eyes. You saw how he was around campus; girls flocked to him. You think that’s going to change now that he’s a professional? Hell, he probably has some leggy blonde on speed dial.”
He has no idea how close his words hit home. I toss my shoulders back and face him straight on. “He’s not you.”
“I’m sorry for ever hurting you. If I could go back and have a redo, I would, but don’t let another person play you.” The sincerity in his voice takes my anger down a few notches, but he can’t erase the hurt he caused.
“You don’t know him. You don’t know anything about him,” I say with less fierceness.
“I know enough that you were devastated after your breakup. Did you forget how he tossed you aside?”
“And what? You think you’re better? There’s a difference between you and him. He never cheated!” And just like that, my anger resurfaces.
“I don’t want to become the couple who constantly fights.” He runs his hand through his hair and releases a frustrated huff. “I thought we’d be more mature than this.”
“We could be if you wouldn’t make sexist remarks to our kids and judge who I date.”
“When the person you date reflects badly on our kids, you leave me no choice.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“It means the first sign of trouble, and I’ll take you back to court for custody.”
My jaw drops as I openly stare at him. Why is he doing this? I know he’s hated Jax ever since college but threaten me with the kids…he wouldn’t dare.
“You do realize that means you’d have the kids full-time. No pawning them off early.”
“I’m just saying. You should end things before you get hurt.” He storms out the door, and I let him.
He’s wrong. Jax isn’t playing me. What would he gain by playing me? Nothing. That’s it. He can have anyone. Including the leggy blonde. I plop on my couch and pull my phone out. I hover my thumb over Jax’s name. He wanted me to call, but…
I open the messages and type out a quick got-home-safe message. Making an excuse that I’m tired and going to bed, I hit Send and power off the phone. Carl’s wrong. It will work between us. It has to.
Chapter Twenty-Three
JAX
Current Day
Crack. I smile and take off running as the ball sails deep into left field. It hits off the wall, and the left fielder throws it back into play, but not before I’m standing at second.
I hold up my palm to signal to the umpire. Three weeks of playing ball and I can tell already this is going to be a good year. I’m hitting the best that I ever have. Bring on the regular season, I think as I wipe the sweat from my forehead. For being February, the humidity is unusually high.
Our second baseman comes to the plate. The pitcher sets, and I creep off the base. I have a decent lead when the bat connects with the ball. I run to third, and the third base coach waves me home. The cheering grows louder. The catcher sets up like he’s going to have a play, so I kick my speed up a notch and slide into home plate. The catcher’s glove sweeps across my midriff. My momentum carries me across the plate, but I keep my fingers on the plate.
“Safe!” My favorite word uttered by the umpire.
“Good hustle, Carrigan.”
I turn toward the fan—a pot-bellied man, retirement age, sporting a pink Phillies baseball hat and an Iron Pigs logo on his shirt—and tip my head. I gotta respect a guy who’s man enough to wear pink. I fucking love spring training. Exercise and calisthenics can only do so much. The field is where the real workout begins. The warm breeze sweeping away the winter lull, the ritualistic routines being reimplemented, and the tension from the triple-A players giving their best in hopes to not get cut. The best part is the fans cheering like every game is the playoffs. I fucking love my job.
My gaze shifts to the right and falls on the blonde who seems to show up everywhere. The corners of her lips draw up like she’s privy to a secret that only we share. My eyes narrow as I avert my gaze to the dugout. The woman is relentless, I’ll give her that.
“Off day tomorrow, so we hanging tonight?” Down to our last out, AJ slips on his catcher’s gear.
“I don’t know. Depends.”
“Well, we could stay inside your room and knit. Maybe find your balls inside the yarn bag.”
“My balls are right here, asshole.” I grab my crotch and smile.
“I think it’s great that you’re reacquainting with your past love and all that. I get it, but that doesn’t mean you stop living. What are you afraid of?”
I would never cheat on Jocelyn, but our relationship is new, fragile. “Jocelyn’s been burned too many times, so her trust factor is low. I just don’t want something to crop up.”
“You know, one way to build trust is to prove you’re trustworthy. Staying hidden doesn’t prove anything.”
Good point.
The last out is made. I grab my glove, and as we charge the steps, I slap AJ on the back. “You know, that’s the most philosophical thing you’ve ever told me.”
“Fuck you. Get your ass out there so we can shut them out.”
“Don’t think the time changed much since you last checked.” Laughter and loud conversations drown out the sarcastic overtone of AJ’s voice. My gaze rolls to the two wannabe comedians sitting across from me in the booth. Zach has the decency to cover his mouth with his fist in a halfass attempt to hide his laughter, but AJ sits with a smile spread so wide it’s like he’s daring me to smack him.
“If you must know, I told Jocelyn I’d call at eleven. We have about twenty minutes.”
“Fine, I gotta piss, then we’ll get your Cinderella-ass home.” AJ rises from the seat and smirks. “Wouldn’t want you turning into a pumpkin.”
“It disturbs me you know so much about fairy tales.” I place my phone on the table as Zach bursts into laughter.
“What can I say? I have a younger sister with a flair for the dramatic. Watched a lot of that shit growing up.”
Zach slaps a palm on the table while tossing back the last of his bottle. “I’m taking off. See you on the field tomorrow.”
“Later.”
We went light on the beers tonight. There may not be a game tomorrow, but we still have practice. As Zach leaves, I check my phone one more time. Fifteen minutes to go. God, I’m turning into some whipped guy, but I can’t wait to hear her voice. I definitely can’t wait to feel her body again. My hand doesn’t compare to the warmth of her pussy, but damn, our last night together gave me enough material to last the entire baseball season. Hell, my dick strains against my shorts right now picturing the satisfied gleam in those chestnut-colored eyes as I rammed my cock into her. Her body, spent and sated, needed help in the shower. Then, I took her again while the water sprayed down on both of us. It was the perfect send-off. But apart from all that, I just miss her.
A tall, skinny glass is set in front of me and knocks me back to the reality of being in a Florida bar. I turn to a way too familiar blonde, who shimmies up beside me.
“Since you won’t buy me a drink, I’ll buy yours.”
My gaze flits to the dark amber liquid that reeks of rum. No way in hell will I accept that. Drinking with some crazed fan is not on the agenda tonight or any night. I inch away, putting distance between her and the drink. “I’m good, but thanks.”
“Oh, come on. Your friend left.” She leans closer and lowers her voice, her floral scent overshadowing the rum. “He can’t run and tell his wifey on you. You won’t get caught.”
My back stiffens. Is she implying Lac
ey will blab to Jocelyn? I suppose anyone with Google could easily figure out they’re best friends, but having some woman recite it like she’s Goddamn Wikipedia dips into Freaksville, USA. I swallow, wondering what the hell is taking AJ so long.
“Look, I don’t know your game, but I’m not interested.” Being rude to people goes against every grain in my body, but this chick isn’t picking up my subtle hints. Outside of telling her to get lost, I don’t know what to say.
“You need to relax, sweetheart. Your teammate isn’t having any trouble.” She scoots the drink closer and turns to her left. I follow her gaze. Son of a bitch. Standing at the end of the bar is my ride with a brunette draped over his arm. Shot glasses in each hand, they sling both shots, back to back. He tosses his head back in laughter, clearly not giving two fucks about me needing to leave. Looks like I’m driving back. That is if I can peel him away from the girl.
“Why don’t you ditch him and meet me around the corner if you’re worried someone may see us. I can be discreet.”
What the hell is up with this chick?
“Lady”—and that’s using the term loosely—“I’m not interested. If you’ll excuse me, I have to go.” I have a phone date I don’t want to miss.
She blows out a frustrated breath and slides out of the booth. The air around me clears as she carries her overbearing scent with her. “Fine. I’ll wait a little longer. But make no mistake, you’ll have me again.”
Again? When did I ever have her to begin with?
Heavy footsteps slap against the concrete floor, and I’ve never been so relieved to see my roommate. The woman dips her head and walks away.
“Who the hell was that?” AJ eyes the full drink and downs it before I stop him.
“Nobody.” No use making a scene. I’m sure she’s harmless, but I make a mental note to ask Zach if he remembers anything about her. “Took you long enough.”
Swing For The Fences Page 17