Seasoned Veteran

by Roz Lee

  “Nice to meet you, Mr. Tulleson.” She addressed her benefactor. “I’m really sorry, Bentley. I lost all track of time. I found some really interesting articles, though.” After her brother broke his hip falling into the dugout in pursuit of a fly ball, Bentley offered Sean the use of his pool house while he went through his physical therapy. Since the pool house only had one bedroom, he’d opened his house to her so she could remain close by to help. He and his fiancée had been incredibly generous—all the more reason her screw up tonight weighed on her conscience. The last thing she wanted was for either of them to think she was ungrateful.

  “What kind of research?” Jake asked, moving around the hood of the car. The headlights briefly illuminated him, giving her more details to fill in—tanned skin, a firm, cleanly shaved jaw, a nice haircut. He moved like an athlete, though she didn’t remember hearing Sean speak of him. He paused near the front tire. His lips were full, his nose narrow. Thin lines fanned out from the corners of his eyes, giving him an air of maturity that piqued her interest. She’d about had her fill of boys masquerading as men.

  “Um…I was looking up period dress for women in Texas during the Republic years, 1836-1846.”

  He was close enough she could see the flecks of gray at his temples. His eyes were blue. As she suspected earlier, there were dots of the same color in his tie. The tiny lines, like parenthesis, bracketing his mouth, captivated her. She’d always been a sucker for well-placed punctuation.

  “Fascinating.” His voice rumbled like distant thunder, vibrating through her all the way to her toes.

  Siobhan had the oddest feeling he wasn’t referring to the research she was doing for her next series of romance novels.

  “I think so, too.” She hoped he would hear in her words the same thing she’d heard in his. He was the most fascinating man she’d seen in…forever.

  “Are you all done with your research?”

  She shook her head. “No. I bought some books at the museum.”

  “I’d love to see your books.”

  The slight hesitation before he said that last word made her heart gallop. It must have run off with her good sense because she heard herself say, “I’d like to show you my books. When?”

  “Now is good.” He moved around the open car door.

  Siobhan looked at his outstretched hand then ducked back into the car to grab her purse and the bag from the museum. When she straightened, his hand still waited for hers. She placed her palm over his. Tiny pinpricks of electricity skittered up her arm, across her shoulder then down to her breasts. Her nipples tingled, forming tight buds.

  Someone cleared his throat. Siobhan looked around to find Bentley watching them.

  “Oh! Bentley. You don’t mind if I give you your car back right here, do you?”

  He smiled. “Not at all. Jake will see you get home okay.”

  It wasn’t a question, but a directive aimed at his batting coach.

  “I’ll see no harm comes to Flannery’s little sister.” Jake pulled her away from Bentley’s SUV and toward the only other vehicle in the lot.

  He opened the door for her, and she scooted into the expensive sports car. Even though it was well past sundown in mid-September, summer had yet to release its hold on North Texas. The interior was an oven. Adjusting her legs on the hot leather seat, Siobhan briefly wondered if she was being incredibly stupid to go off with a virtual stranger. When he opened the opposite door and folded himself into the driver’s seat, all doubt vanished.

  He cranked the car before adjusting the climate control system. Cool air rushed from the dashboard vents, raising gooseflesh on her arms. Beneath the thin cotton sundress she’d put on that morning, her nipples stood to attention.

  They sat in silence until Bentley’s SUV pulled out of the lot. Alone in the darkened car with a man she’d met less than five minutes earlier, she tried to find even a kernel of trepidation, but came up empty. Maybe it was the obvious age difference or the air of confidence surrounding him, but he made her feel safe—and horny. It had been a long time since she’d felt this kind of sexual attraction. Hell, she’d never experienced anything quite like this, as if she couldn’t wait to get naked with a man. Inexplicably, she knew Jake was the kind of man who would take his time with a woman, even if he hadn’t wasted a minute getting her into his car.

  He remained silent until Bentley’s taillights were nothing more than pinpoints of light in the distance. “You know I don’t give a damn about the books in that bag.”

  His deep voice stroked every taut string in her body, making her shiver with need. It had been way too long since she’d had sex, and she’d never been with a guy who oozed sex appeal the way Jake did. He was a man of few words, but every one sounded like a promise to her starved hormones.

  “I never thought you did.” She dared to look at him. He was watching her. A thrill shot through her. In that super-charged instant, she was positive he saw more than what the sodium light over the player’s gate and the backlit dashboard could reveal. She felt exposed—naked.

  “The only game I play is baseball.”

  She took his statement for the warning it clearly was. “No games,” she agreed, though she wasn’t sure exactly what kind of games she could possibly play with this man.

  “Take off your panties.”

  Her breath caught in her throat at the blatant order. The car idled beneath her like the giant cat it was named after, a sensual caress that made her hyperaware of her lady parts. It didn’t help that they’d been throbbing ever since she first heard his voice purring in the darkness.

  “No games, Siobhan. Take them off. Loop them over the mirror.”

  She lifted her purse and museum bag off her lap. He took them, depositing them somewhere behind her seat. Raising her hips, she reached under her skirt. It took some fancy shimmying in the tight confines to work her panties off, but eventually she pulled them free then hung them over the rearview mirror.

  Long, masculine fingers hooked the crotch. “You’re wet.” She was grateful for the dark interior as her skin heated at his observation. “Recline your seat.”

  Wordlessly, she found the lever on the side of her seat. Lowering the backrest as far as it would go, she went down with it, watching his face all the way for any indication this little scene affected him even half as much as it affected her. Jake Tulleson was as cool as a cucumber.

  No problem. She wasn’t looking for a relationship, just some sex—preferably good sex—while she was in Dallas helping her brother recover from his most recent hip injury. In a few months, she would head home with a treasure trove of memories she could use to spice up her writing. Never again would a reader complain the sex scenes in her books were dull. She had hoped to come up with a suitable research partner at some point, but not this soon, and she’d never dreamed she’d find someone as promising as Jake Tulleson.

  “Hike up your skirt. I want to see you.”

  Grasping the fabric near her waist, she gathered her skirt up an inch at a time until her mound was exposed to his gaze. He didn’t say anything for the longest, just looked.

  “Beautiful.” He reached across her, closed his hand over the seatbelt, fastening it for her.

  He put the car in gear and drove out of the parking lot. Unable to see much from her position, she watched Jake drive. The beast of an automobile purred, reacting to his commands as if it understood he was its master. He held the steering wheel and operated the gearshift with supreme confidence. Imagining him touching her in the same way, she tingled with anticipation, her body humming right along with the powerful engine propelling them through the night.

  Suddenly, her inexperience compared to his sexual skill seemed like an insurmountable obstacle. He was used to full-grown cats—felines in need of taming. She was nothing more than a kitten with too much curiosity for her own good. She should tell him what this was all about before it went any further. It wasn’t right to use him for the sake of a few book sales. Up until he’d step
ped out of the shadows and illuminated her world a few minutes ago, she’d had a viable plan to fill in the blanks of her sexual experience. She just hadn’t yet gotten up the nerve to watch any of the videos she’d located on the Internet.

  The car careened around a sharp curve. Her panties swayed on their makeshift hanger.

  I’ve got to tell him.

  She tried to sit up, intent on telling Jake the truth about why she had accepted his invitation, but a big hand left the steering wheel to press her back down.

  “Don’t move.”

  “Jake.” She smoothed her skirt down then made another attempt to sit upright. This time, he didn’t stop her.

  “What? Second thoughts?”

  “Yes. No.” She reached for her panties but he wrapped his hand around her wrist, stopping her.

  “Leave them there.” When she released her grip, he returned her hand to her lap. “We’re almost home. Save what you have to say till we get there.”

  At least he’s being reasonable. All she needed to do was explain the situation. Be up front with him. Then he’d take her back to Bentley’s house. Maybe he’d even offer to answer a few questions for her, like how a man knew what a woman liked or how he knew where to touch a woman to make her forget why she shouldn’t remove her panties and ride through the streets of Dallas with her skirt hiked to her waist.

  Her face flamed. She looked out the passenger window in hopes he wouldn’t notice. They’d entered an upscale neighborhood that looked suspiciously like Bentley’s. “Where are we going?”

  “I’m taking you home.”

  Heat warmed her skin again, but this time humiliation fueled the fire inside her. He didn’t want her, after all. When had he recognized she wasn’t his type? Had she been too eager to remove her panties or was it when she tried to take them back?

  “I don’t want to go home.”

  He pulled to the curb with the skill of a racecar driver squeezing into a pit stall then slammed the gearshift into Park.

  “What the hell are you talking about? I thought we had an agreement.”

  “What?” She glanced at the street lined with private walled yards behind security gates. It looked familiar, but had she jumped to the wrong conclusion? “This is the way to Bentley’s.”

  His shoulders relaxed. “I live a few blocks from here,” he explained. “Do you want me to take you to Bent’s? Or do you want to come home with me?”

  She’d squelched good sense twice tonight. Once when she got in Jake’s car, then again when she’d blurted out that she didn’t want to go home. The voice of reason tried again. “We should talk.”

  “No talking. Either you want to have sex with me or you don’t. Which is it?”

  The big cat purred softly under the hood of the car. Sex. That’s all this is. Jake was years older than her and probably centuries wiser when it came to sexual matters. That’s what she needed. One night with him would give her enough material to write an entire series of books.

  “Your house.”

  “Say it. Say you want me to fuck you.”

  She swallowed hard. A Dreamsicle-colored cat sauntered across the road just on the edge of the Jaguar’s headlight beam. A cat out on the prowl. That’s me. She looked at him. “I want you to fuck me.”

  Chapter Three

  Present - Thanksgiving Day

  Jake popped the frozen tray into the microwave then leaned against the counter to wait for his Thanksgiving dinner to nuke. The Cowboys’ game played silently on the big-screen TV in the den, visible through the arched kitchen doorway.

  He’d come back to Dallas with the intention of spending this holiday, and every other one in the future, with Siobhan. But he’d fucked up—again. What in heaven’s name had possessed him to tell her she’d been nothing but a good fuck?

  “Idiot.” He cringed at the sound of his own voice. Other than a trip to the grocery store for essentials, he hadn’t left his house since what was supposed to have been the day his life changed for the better. But instead of improving his lot, he’d sent it spiraling down the crapper.

  “You really fucked it up this time.”

  The microwave dinged. Turning, he picked up the discarded box to read the instructions again. After stirring the crystallized meal then resetting the timer, he crossed the room to stare out the window overlooking the backyard. The grass was mostly brown with a few patches of mottled green. The gray sky reflecting off the black-bottomed pool mirrored his mood—gloomy and desolate.

  He’d spent a month in Colorado, coming up with reasons he shouldn’t or couldn’t be with Siobhan. Near the top of the list was their age difference. In retrospect, the fifteen years between them had been the armor he’d used to keep her at a distance when they’d been together. It had also been the reason he’d ended their relationship.

  Being truthful with himself, he had imagined introducing Siobhan to his daughter more than once, but each time he’d conjured up the scenario, he’d seen himself as some sort of pervert. So, he ran. Just like he’d done a dozen other times in the past with women he had no intention of bringing into his private life.

  He chuckled. At the sound of the microwave buzzer, he turned to remove his solitary dinner from the oven. Sitting at the breakfast bar, all alone with his plastic tray of steaming holiday food, he paused to absorb the feeling. He’d been alone more times than he could count over the years. A professional baseball player’s lifestyle wasn’t conducive to relationships—he’d learned that early on. Over the years, he’d used that knowledge like a get-out-of-jail-free card, pulling it whenever a woman got too close.

  Rearranging his sorry meal with his fork, he thought about where his stupidity had gotten him. He was alone by choice, lonely due to the fact he was an idiot.

  “I thought of you as just another good fuck.” Spearing a precisely formed piece of limp turkey, he shook his head. “I don’t know what is more pathetic, this meal or you, Tulleson.”

  Chewing, he tried to focus on the football game flickering across the screen. An annual tradition on Thanksgiving, it usually held his attention no matter where he was. For the last twenty-something years, he’d watched the game with his family. Every other year, he’d brought his best girl with him to show off.

  This year, he’d talked to his parents earlier in the day, assured them everything was fine, he’d be spending the day with friends. His daughter, Kelly had been full of questions he’d dodged with questions of his own. “What do you want for Christmas? What’s this I hear about you wanting to study abroad next year?”

  God, she was growing up so fast. No. Make that had grown up. His little girl was twenty, with two years of college behind her, but older and wiser than him by decades. She’d been the one to notice his mood, to probe him with inquiries until he told her the truth. He’d expected her to hate him for falling in love with a woman just five years older than her, but he’d underestimated his daughter, which was nothing new. She’d been outsmarting him since the day she was born—and he couldn’t be prouder of that fact.

  Her mother had done a fantastic job raising her, and he’d done a fantastic job of letting her. They’d been too young, too stupid, to get married, much less have a kid, so they’d compromised, passed on the marriage, but kept the kid. Before Kelly was born, he’d gone off to the Minor League. It wasn’t long after that he’d been called up to the Majors. They’d worked out a deal where he had Kelly in the off-season, but that meant living nearby so his daughter wouldn’t have to change schools or disrupt her routine any more than necessary. Rotating holidays with both their families developed naturally over the years.

  He was a lucky man. Though he’d never loved his daughter’s mother the way a man should love the mother of his child, the two of them had managed to work things out so she had the best both her parents could offer. She’d never wanted for anything financially, had received love and guidance from both their families. His heart warmed just thinking about the special person his daughter had grown to be.<
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  It was because of her he’d returned to Dallas. Instead of thinking her father was a perv when he told her about Siobhan, she’d helped him pack his suitcase, admonishing him not to come back until he could bring the woman he loved with him.

  Forcing another bite of processed turkey down his throat, he feared he’d never see the rest of his family again if he followed Kelly’s instructions to the letter. For a few weeks, he’d had it all, he’d just been too stupid to see it.

  Chapter Four

  Two months earlier - September 12th

  Damn. He’d died a thousand deaths waiting for Siobhan to give him the green light to proceed. If she’d said no, he would have driven her home to Bentley’s house, but for reasons he couldn’t explain, he knew he would have hated doing it. Siobhan loved her brother enough to spend months caring for him. Given what he suspected about Sean Flannery’s sexual orientation, her love was unconditional.

  Another turn sent her panties swaying again. Cool air blowing from a center vent acted like a diffuser, carrying Siobhan’s scent throughout the car, especially when he took a curve. Inhaling deeply, he committed her bouquet to memory. He couldn’t wait to bury his face between her legs so he could taste her. She’d be as sweet as honey and as intoxicating as twenty-year-old whiskey.

  Hell, she couldn’t be much more than twenty years old, herself. Too young for him, but old enough to consent. He’d have her tonight then send her back to her babysitter. He smirked, remembering Bentley’s admonishing tone. Sean might not know what his little sister was up to, but Bentley did, and he wasn’t thrilled about it.

  One night, Bent. That’s all I want. I’ll send your pet home well used, but unharmed. I promise.

  “Are you old enough to drink,” he asked, leading the way into the den where he kept a decently stocked bar.

  “I’m twenty-five.”

  He nodded, popping the stopper on a bottle of scotch that was older than her. Shit. He poured two fingers into two glasses, handing her one. “I’m beginning to feel like a pervert.”