by Megan Ryder
He nodded sheepishly and allowed her to herd him back to the couch and tuck him in like a little kid. “Will you kiss it and make it all better?”
She swept a few strands of his hair away from his forehead. “You need a haircut.” She leaned down and brushed her lips against the side of his head. “All better?”
He crooked a grin at her. “Getting there. But I think I need a proper kiss.”
She laughed. “You can’t handle a proper kiss right now.”
“Rain check?” He looked so hopeful that she just grinned, her hand stroking his cheek again.
“Fine, when you’re better, you’ll get a proper kiss. If you’re a good patient.”
He burrowed into the couch. “You’ve been talking to Lindsey, haven’t you? Don’t listen to her. I’m a model patient.”
“I’m sure you are. Now go to sleep.” She couldn’t stop touching him stop reassuring herself that he was okay, that he was here and was going to be fine. And all he wanted was a kiss, a proper kiss, as if he knew what to do with one.
He closed his eyes, muscles relaxing, then one eye popped open. “Will you wear a nurse’s outfit? Short white skirt, low-cut top. I think it would really help me heal faster.”
She burst out laughing, too relieved to be irritated. “Get some rest.”
“That wasn’t a no,” he pointed out, eyes crinkling in a roguish smile.
“It wasn’t a no,” she agreed, charmed despite her exasperation.
What had she gotten herself into?
Chapter Sixteen
Dylan laid his head against the back of the chair and closed his eyes, trying to relieve the incessant pounding in his head. Damn concussions. The fucking ass, Russell, intentionally slammed into him harder than necessary, tried to take him out. He’d been a catcher long enough to recognize the signs. It was one thing to jostle the ball out of the catcher’s mitt, but to deliberately run him down was dirty pool and everyone in the stadium knew it. The crowd had been eerily silent when Dylan had come back to reality, despite the ringing in his ears. Stadiums were rarely that quiet unless something major had happened. That was when he knew shit had just gotten real.
Hell, even Cody Patterson was pale. His normally pissed-off, cocky face looked worried and solemn over the shoulder of the trainers and coaches clustered around him at home plate. At least that was where he had thought he’d been. Honestly, he had no clue where he was or how long he had been there. He only knew one thing. No way was anyone carrying his ass off that field. He’d walked off it like he had walked on it. Maybe it made him a macho idiot but the loud cheers of crowd made it worth it, even as it had slammed into his sensitive head.
Now, he was sitting out for a few days until the doctors cleared him. No one was messing around with concussions anymore, especially since the medical community had released reports on the impact of concussions on football players. Now, mention the word concussion and people freaked out. The sliding glass door opened and he turned. Pain sliced through his head and he winced. Okay, maybe they deserved to freak out. Damn, this hurt.
Fucking Russell.
“I brought you some ice and sunglasses. Should you be outside?”
He cracked his eye open, really dreading the pain, but Savannah blocked the sun, the shade providing blessed relief. She slipped the glasses over his eyes and settled them on his face, shading them from the light.
He sighed. “I don’t want to be stuck inside. I just want to sleep.”
She laid an ice pack gently on the lump on the side of his head, her hands soft as they stroked his hair briefly, as if she cared. “I’m sorry. But I have to ask you a few questions.”
“Jesus.” He exploded, sitting up straight then groaning at the pain shafting like an ice pick to the skull. He settled against the chair cushions. “Can’t you just let me sleep?”
She pulled up a chair next to him and rested a hand on his forearm, her fingers gently caressing his skin. “You know I can’t do that.”
“Fine. Ask,” he growled.
She proceeded to ask the same damn questions she’d been asking every couple of hours or so since he’d been brought home several hours ago. What was your name? What was today’s date? How was he feeling? What happened to him? As if he wanted to relive that particular low moment in his life. Finally, she ended and handed him a couple of acetaminophen and a glass of water. A low rustle of her clothes and the quiet slide of the chair indicated she was leaving.
“Savannah?” He heard her pause and he struggled with the words. “Thank you. I’m sorry I’m being such a bastard.”
“Get some rest, Dylan.” Her words were quiet, soothing.
Sadie nudged his hand with her nose, a gentle lick reminding him she was right by his side. His muscles slowly eased, losing their battle with the pain that gripped his body, holding him tense as if still preparing for that hit from another player. He drifted into a restless sleep, oddly comforted by the knowledge that someone was there watching over him.
Savannah stood at the kitchen sink, watching Dylan rest on the chaise lounge on the patio, Sadie keeping watch over him. Sadie had been frantic when Cody had brought Dylan home that morning, sensing the pain that wracked his body, the pale tension that gripped him still. Dogs were more intuitive than people and if she could have crawled into his lap and onto his chest, she probably would have. But she settled for lying next to him, his hand dangling off the chair and resting on her head as if he needed her soothing touch as much as she needed his.
Savannah gripped the counter, still seeing the awful white face, the pain written in every tense line, when Cody helped him into the house. Even Cody had been unnaturally somber, careful with his catcher, no trace of joking or teasing of the old man. Instead, in his eyes there was a slow burn of anger and a hint of fear. Savannah had no time for that. She had her own reactions to corral. After watching the horrible hit on the television the prior evening, it was all she could do not to rush to the hospital or stadium, but she wasn’t family and no one would have let her in to see him. At least Cody remembered and provided a quick update on Dylan’s status. By the time Cody had driven him home, her instincts had kicked in and she took over, basically tossing Cody out and hustling Dylan off to bed. Several hours later, having checked and rechecked him for all symptoms, and finding him clear, her hands still trembled when she thought of what could have happened.
Her cell phone rang and she glanced at it. Damn. Lucy.
“What’s up?” She spoke quietly, as if he could hear her through the open windows.
“How’s Dylan? I heard about the injury. Looked bad on the news.”
Interesting. “You watched the news?”
“Hey, I know what’s going on in the world. Sometimes. Let me guess. He needs you so you’re going to stay there for a while. Help him out. Play Nurse Savannah. Want me to rent you a nursemaid’s costume?”
She didn’t dare say yes. Lucy probably had one stashed somewhere. “He’s hurt. He has no one else.”
“And, of course, you have to be there. You know, there are other people who might need you?”
The bite of anger in Lucy’s words took Savannah aback and she paused. “Like who? You? Lucy, you’re an adult. You need to start taking care of yourself. Find a job. Speaking of which. I’m going to need you to take on some of my dog walking jobs. Dylan needs me right now and I can’t leave him.”
Lucy sighed. “So, you’re choosing him over your family? Well, I’d better get paid for this. Besides, I got a job. Waitressing at the Watering Hole.”
Savannah sighed. Same pattern and probably the same result. “Waitressing there is how you met Ricky and look how that turned out.”
“There’s just no pleasing you. I got a job, didn’t I? And if I meet someone, then I can move out of here and you won’t have to bother with me. You can focus on your new stray all you want,” Lucy snarled.
Where did that come from? “Hey, don’t get all nasty and bitter with me. You’re the one who always l
eaves as soon as you find someone new. It’s not like we’re a close, television family or something.”
“Maybe because you’ve made it clear I’m not invited to stay around.”
The words were bitter but there was a hint of something else behind them, something deeper. Maybe a vulnerability that Savannah had never heard before. She sucked in a breath, taking a long moment before responding. What could Lucy want this time? What was her angle? Did she have an angle or was this a sincere attempt to get closer? If only Savannah could trust that Lucy could stick around and not bolt at the first sign of a new man or new opportunity.
She had clearly waited too long and Lucy made a sound of disgust.
“Forget about it.” Lucy scoffed. “I’ll deal with your dogs and let you play nursemaid.”
“Wait, Lucy.” But there was silence at the other end, the call disconnected.
Savannah put the phone down on the counter and glanced outside to see Dylan still asleep on the lounge chair. She sagged against the granite and wiped her face, surprised to feel wetness on her cheeks. The emotions of the past day or so caught up to her. She didn’t have time to examine her feelings too closely. She had to get to the store and back before she had to wake Dylan. She might be able to stop by a couple of her fosters on the way too or at least make calls from the car.
She grabbed her purse and headed for the garage, Lucy’s words still nagging at her subconscious.
The next couple of days passed quietly. Dylan mostly rested, with Savannah always there when he woke up, with food, drink, ice or anything else he needed. Sadie also stayed close by, offering her own brand of nursing and comfort, although how petting a dog helped him heal was still a topic that baffled him. But it did soothe him. A couple of players stopped by before they hit the short road trip up north to Chicago and Minnesota. He took Alex aside, hoping they could keep Cody from following through on his threat of retaliation against Russell when the team was in Minnesota. It would have been satisfying to see Russell tagged by a fastball, the old-school way of handling disputes on the field, but it could garner the kid a stiff suspension and, with the team in a tight pennant race, they needed all their players on the field. Alex agreed but Dylan saw it pissed him off to let it go. Hell, it galled Dylan but the team always came first. Always.
So, he watched the games on TV, with Savannah curled up on one side, and the dogs arrayed around them. She went to bed with him every night but refused to have sex with him, saying she was worried about his head. After a week with her backside pressed against his groin, her breast in his hand, he was getting a serious case of blue balls.
Finally, he went to the doctor and got cleared. Savannah drove him home and dropped him at the front door.
“I have to catch up on my fosters and make sure everything is going okay. Will you be okay for a few hours?”
Well shit. There went his plan for some afternoon delight. He wandered around the house for a while, Sadie on his heels, then took a nap. He woke when the bed dipped slightly next to him. He blinked blearily in the dim, late afternoon light.
“What time is it?”
“Shush. I’m here to make sure you’re healing okay, Mr. Prosser.”
His eyes flew open at the low, husky voice. Savannah leaned over him, her hair teased out bigger than usual, tumbling around her face and shoulders. He came awake in an instant, confusion quickly giving way to lust. She slid his shirt up over his head and placed a cool metal disk against his heart.
“I just have to listen to your heart for a moment.”
Her tongue peeked out the corner of her mouth, the lips painted with bright red lipstick, and his cock hardened to a painful length. She let the stethoscope drop and she ran her hands over his chest, exploring the muscles, lightly teasing his nipples. He sucked in a breath as she dipped a fingernail beneath the waistband of his sweatpants.
She arched her brow. “Naughty patient. Going commando?”
She stood and his mouth went bone dry. She wore a skintight, white nurse’s uniform but not like any nurse’s uniform he’d ever seen in any doctor’s office or hospital. This one had a plunging neckline, with the opening almost all the way to her navel, leaving plenty of tanned flesh plumped out for him to see. Her nipples were barely covered by the white material on the sides. His gaze followed the opening down to the shortest skirt, barely covering her rounded ass. If she bent over, he’d see everything she had.
“Goddamn, that’s a fine sight.” He breathed, his cock so hard it was painful. “Tell me you didn’t go outside like that.”
Her hand drifted down the top of the sheet and coasted over the bulge tenting the bedclothes. It jerked under her hand and he hissed a breath. She closed her fingers around his erection and stroked him once, twice, and his eyes closed, his head falling back on the pillow and he struggled to hold back coming in her hand like a teenaged boy. She smiled and pulled her hand away.
She twirled around. “You like my outfit?”
“I love your outfit. Take it off.” His voice was hoarse and raw, need pulsing like a live nerve, riding him hard.
She dropped the stethoscope and bent over, her back to him. The white skirt rode up over the firm globes of her ass, a red thong riding between them. He groaned and reached out to caress the soft skin. She jerked under his touch, and glanced back over her shoulder at him, a wicked smile on her face.
“No touching, Mr. Prosser.”
He slipped two fingers under the string of her thong, into the wetness that seeped out from her core, spreading it along her slit. Her eyes closed and she moaned at his touch, her tongue moistening her red lips. He curled his fingers in the flimsy material and tugged, pulling her off balance and ripping the material, tossing the ruined panties to the side and catching her as she fell onto the bed. He quickly shifted, rolling her over him, then under him, his hand going under her skirt. He traced his fingers through her folds, plunging one deep inside. She arched and he worked a second finger in, working them both in quickly, his thumb flicking her clit until she came around his fingers with a loud cry.
She sagged on the bed and he divested her of the outfit, tossing it somewhere over his shoulder. The red heels he left on. Those would feel incredible against his back as he drove in to her. He got rid of his sweatpants and grabbed a couple of condoms from the bedside table, tossing them on the bed. He ripped one open and rolled it on, then stroked her lips, waiting for her to open her eyes.
Her eyes fluttered open. “Wow. This was supposed to be a gift for you.”
“And I loved it. Already unwrapped it. Now I’m ready to play with it.” He stroked her lips lightly with his finger. “Loving this lipstick but I can’t wait right now. I have to be inside you.”
She tilted her hips. “What are you waiting for?”
He slid home, slowly, the warm walls engulfing him completely, squeezing him tightly, and he sighed when he was balls deep inside heaven. He lowered his forehead against hers. She ran her fingernails up his back, the nails barely touching his skin, just a pinprick hint of pain adding to the pleasure. She lifted her lips to his and brushed her mouth across his, a sweet kiss of homecoming. He groaned at the feel and claimed her mouth in a kiss so passionate he felt it down to his core, a place he had always kept hidden from everyone, until Savannah.
She ran her leg up the outside of his, the edge of her red heels dragging on his skin, and she clenched her channel around him. As if that triggered him, he started moving, slowly, steadily, dragging in and out, hitting that one spot that made her gasp and her eyes roll back. She came quickly again but he wasn’t anywhere near done with her yet.
He grabbed one of her legs and pulled it out to the side and up, changing the angle, groaning as he sank deeper inside. She sucked in a deep breath and he started moving faster, not sure he could hold out much longer. He pounded against her, her hips bucking beneath him, her voice pleading with him, begging him, crying out until she came again with a loud cry that lingered in the bedroom. He followed her o
ver with a hoarse cry, pouring into her with every emotion he had help deep inside, that secret spot ripped open, everything channeled into the connection forged between them that had begun with sex but quickly turned much deeper.
He sagged against the bed, head buried in her hair, breathing heavily.
She kissed his ear. “You liked the outfit?”
Chapter Seventeen
Dylan eyed the parking lot at the stadium as Savannah drove them up to the players’ entrance. He was a little later than usual so most of the team was already there. Damn, he would have preferred to have been settled in before anyone was there, already into his routine so it wouldn’t be a big deal. Now, he had to walk in with everyone watching him. He hated the damn attention. Hopefully the media wasn’t hanging around yet.
She gave him a worried look as he gathered his things and he smiled at her confidently.
“Don’t worry. I won’t be playing today, or for a few more days. They had to put me on the DL and I’m out a couple more days. But the doc cleared me for a workout.”
Savannah sighed then her face brightened and she waved. Cody walked over from the doorway, as if he’d been watching for them. She rolled the window down and greeted the younger man.
“How you doing, old man?” Cody joked. “Hey, sexy lady.”
“Hey, kid.” She smiled.
He grasped his chest as if she had wounded him, a broad grin on his face. “Ouch, wounding my manhood. That’s harsh, Savannah.”
Dylan growled something under his breath and opened the door. Cody stepped back, holding the door for Dylan. “What did you say, Professor?”
“I said, back off.”
Cody just laughed. “Savannah knows I didn’t mean anything.” He draped an arm around Dylan’s shoulders. “Good to have you back. I need my catcher’s eyes tonight. Boston is tough.”
“You boys have fun tonight and be safe!” Savannah called out, smothering a laugh.