Blue was tempted to look beyond the here and now. To imagine a future for them. But that would be getting ahead of herself. Ahead of them.
Baby steps.
The need to take things slow was a big reason why Blue drove herself to Spencer's house. He tried to talk her into riding with him. One car made more sense, he argued. She countered easily, reminding him that she had a job to get to in the morning.
Spencer pointed out that he could drive her home whenever she wanted. Blue reminded him that he needed his rest. She needed to be at work long before he did.
Blue didn't consider her excuse a lie. Everything Blue said was the truth. What she didn't add—what she was reluctant to share—was that—for the time being—the fewer people who knew about them, the better.
Right now, the list consisted of two names. Jordyn and Dale.
Keeping something so important from her best friend was out of the question. That Jordyn was Spencer's sister didn't matter. First and foremost, she was Blue's best friend. Sharing every aspect of their lives was second nature.
The fact that Jordyn was thrilled by the news didn't hurt. Especially in the face of how Dale reacted.
Her brother's less-than-enthusiastic response hadn't been a surprise. However, Dale had driven home Blue's belief that she and Spencer would be better off keeping their relationship to themselves. Away from outside scrutiny.
"You told your brother about us? Okay."
From the expression on Spencer's face, Blue could tell he didn't see the problem.
"He wasn't thrilled."
Spencer sighed. "Hardly a surprise—all things considered. He'll get used to the idea. Given time."
"I asked Dale not to tell anybody."
"Ah." Spencer caught on quickly. And he didn't look pleased. "You want to keep us on the down low."
"For now," Blue rushed to explain. "Until—"
"Until you know if you can trust me."
Faced with a straight-to-the-point question, Blue couldn't lie. Not to Spencer.
Raising a hand to his cheek, Blue found the skin of his cheek smooth to her touch. A testament to the care he'd taken to shave away the afternoon—after game—stubble.
Blue smiled. Not a grand gesture in the big scheme of life. But so thoughtful. So considerate. So… Spencer.
A reminder. Without realizing, Blue had missed Spencer's small gestures. Things he did with her in mind. Things that never occurred to the other men she'd dated.
Without a big production that would draw attention to himself, Spencer knew how to make Blue feel special.
When Blue asked herself why she let Spencer back into her life with so little resistance, the answer was simple. No matter how hard she searched, she never found a man who measured up to Spencer. She kidded herself into believing he no longer mattered. When in truth, he did.
Always had. Always would.
"I trust that you meant what you said. I believe you want to be with me. I know you want this to work."
"I hope you feel the same, Blue."
As Blue looked into Spencer's eyes, she willed him to believe her. Hoping he'd understand.
"The world moves so fast. When we first got together, we were in an insulated bubble. Even though you were famous, I don't remember feeling as though our every move was monitored. We could go out to dinner or to a movie. Take walks in the park without paparazzi jumping out from behind every other bush."
Blue paused, frowning.
"Am I wrong? Have I sugar coated the way things were?"
"No." Spencer shook his head. Closing his eyes, he rested his forehead against hers. "The world—my world—has changed in four years. Back then, I'd just crossed the line from up-and-comer to fully arrived. Now…"
"What you do—and who you're with—is news. Not just with baseball fans. You've crossed over to celebrity status. Like it or not."
"Depends on the day." Kissing the end of Blue's nose, he moved to the refrigerator. He removed a bottle of wine, filling two glasses. He didn't ask if she wanted one. He didn't have to. "I won't lie. I enjoy the perks that go along with my status."
"I'll bet. The leggy model you were dating? Very nice perk."
"Janelle." Spencer handed Blue a glass "Not the brightest bulb. Kind of sweet. Uncomplicated."
Blue could have added interchangeable. The description certainly fit. Janelle was a beautiful woman. And for a man like Spencer. Rich, successful. A drop-dead sexy athlete. The model was one other thing. A cliché.
As if reading Blue's mind, Spencer's lips curved into a self-deprecating—yet unrepentant—smile.
"Can't blame me for fulfilling every man's fantasy."
"I don't blame you a bit," Blue said with absolute honesty. "Did you get them out of your system?"
"Beautiful women?" Spencer met Blue's gaze. His eyes, a warm, dark green, lingered over her every feature. "Apparently not."
Other men charmed. Now and then, Blue had found herself the object of such attention. She never took the flirting—or the men—seriously.
Spencer was a different breed. No matter his other faults—and there were plenty—when he spoke, he meant every word.
"I don't care about the paparazzi, Blue. Or internet trolls. I made my peace with all that crap long ago. However, I understand what you mean."
"Really?" Blue asked.
"Starting a new relationship is hard enough without millions of eyes watching. Our history will make the comments a bit more pointed. If staying under the radar is what you need, count me in."
"Not forever." Blue set her glass on the counter. In two short steps, she was in Spencer's arms. "Just until…" She shrugged.
"Just until," Spencer said firmly, putting the subject to rest. "You can stay the night?"
Smiling, Blue tugged at the collar of Spencer's shirt. The exposed skin, firm and wonderfully warm, felt like heaven against her lips.
"I packed my toothbrush. And a change of underwear."
As Blue continued her limited exploration, Spencer groaned with encouragement.
"Nothing else?" he asked, his fingers threading through Blue's hair, the clip that held the tresses in place falling to the floor.
"What did you have in mind?"
"Flannel. Nothing sexier than one of the long, voluminous Granny nighties. Drives me crazy."
Blue chuckled. Spencer's method of seduction was uniquely his own. Teasing and laughter. Followed by a long session of wild, steamy, mind-blowing sex. His method never failed. Not with her.
For her peace of mind, Blue decided not to contemplate his success rate with other women.
"Flannel. Check. I'll go shopping first chance I get."
"On second thought, never mind. I like you better without."
Blue let out a surprised gasp when Spencer lifted her into his arms.
"Without what," she asked.
"Clothing."
"Is that what we're doing? Getting naked?"
Blue had no objection. But she wanted to hear Spencer say the words. The sound of his voice—all deep and rumbly—made her blood heat.
"For starters. Four years is a long time. Getting to know your body again will take some time."
"Sounds like a plan." Teasing Spencer's ear with her lips, Blue whispered. "One that goes both ways."
"Jesus, Blue." Spencer speared her with his gaze. "I've missed you."
The kiss felt like a lifetime in coming.
Blue wrapped her arms around Spencer's neck, her fingers pressing into his scalp. How had she managed all these years without this—without his touch? Without his lips—so strong, so sure—against her?
A surge of desperation flowed through her. Blue needed more. The feelings were intense, clawing at her. Urging her to find a way—anything—to get closer.
As Blue's mind fogged over, her body writhed.
"Easy," Spencer rasped, his breathing harsh. "I don't want to drop you."
Blue gro
aned. What was she thinking? Instead of thinking with her libido, she should be worried that her antics might injure the Cyclones' star player.
"Put me down."
Spencer laughed. A little rough around the edges, but the sound was unmistakable.
"I was joking. I won't let you fall. I promise."
Blue pushed at Spencer's shoulder. A futile effort. His body was a long length of hard steel hewed by years of hard, concentrated effort. She considered herself to be in above-average shape. Her muscles were strong and well-toned. But against Spencer?
A baby bird's downy feather would have more luck toppling the Eiffel Tower.
"Never mind me." Frustrated, Blue let out a gust of air. "The Cyclones need you healthy. I can see the headlines now. Kraig out for the season with sex-related injury. Fans vilify girlfriend."
"I bet I went out happy."
"This isn't a joke." Blue appreciated Spencer's ability to find humor in almost everything. But not this time. "Freak accidents happen all the time. Even something as small as a pulled muscle could bench you for a week. Maybe more."
"What's your solution? No sex?"
"Okay." Blue didn't like the idea, but if the good of the team were at stake, she'd make the sacrifice. "Put me down. No sex."
Spencer let out a bark of laughter. From the look on his face, he expected Blue to join in. When she didn't, his expression changed from amused to exasperated.
"Are you worried about me, the team, or your job?"
Well, crap. Blue hadn't considered her job. Another reason not to continue. A few kisses from Spencer and her ambitions went up in a puff of rampaging desire.
"Yes, yes, and hell, yes," Blue answered Spencer's query in order. "Why aren't you concerned?"
Shaking his head, Spencer kept his arms firmly around Blue, ignoring her order to put her down. Purposefully, he started up the stairs.
"I know a guy who tweaked his back taking off his shirt. Couldn't swing a bat or field a ball. Missed ten games."
"What is the point of that horror story?"
"Simple. Shit happens, Bluebell. What am I supposed to do? Wrap myself in cotton when I'm not on the field?"
"Breathing might be a problem," Blue said thoughtfully.
When Blue caught Spencer's raised eyebrows, her eyes widened. Then, she grinned. What was wrong with her? Baseball had always been important. But the fact that she'd actually considered Spencer's ridiculous suggestion—however fleetingly—bordered on crazed fan territory.
Luckily, Blue had Spencer to pull her back from the brink.
"Oops."
"Oops, indeed." Once in his bedroom, Spencer set Blue on her feet. "If I wanted to live a celibate life, I'd have joined a monastery, not a baseball team."
"One in the Himalayas? With scratchy brown robes and a round bald patch shaved into your hair?"
"I weighed my choices carefully. The decision was a tough one. A warm, fan-filled stadium or a cold, mostly deserted monastery?"
As Spencer continued their conversation, he removed Blue's clothing, starting with the buttons on her jacket. One. Two. Three. Methodical. Slow. Yet somehow sexy as all get out.
"The brotherhood of baseball? Or the brotherhood—period."
Blue let her jacket slide down her arms. Getting into the spirit, she added, "Money, fame, beautiful women? Or none of the above?"
"Mm." Spencer trailed his finger along the line of Blue's jaw, his touch gentle. "There are a lot of things I could give up—if I had to. This isn't one of them."
"Sex?"
"You."
"Good answer."
"The best answer. Funny thing. The truth usually is."
Done with talking, Spencer slid his hand around Blue's neck. His eyes, so intensely green, held hers as long as possible before he claimed her mouth in a searching kiss that reached toward her heart.
"So many clothes. Why?"
Spencer made quick work of Blue's linen pants. The silk panties and matching bra followed, hitting the floor in an artless heap.
"The Cyclones frown at their employees showing up for work naked."
As he stepped back to survey his handiwork, Spencer nodded.
"I never minded sharing. Until now." Tanned from hours spent on a hot, sunny ballfield, Spencer's skin appeared even darker as his hand closed over Blue's pale, creamy breast.
"Mine."
One word. Simple yet telling. Blue would have argued. She knew she should. Yet, how could she? He told the truth.
However, Blue wanted to make something clear. Belonging wasn't a one-way street.
Her grip firm, her gaze steady, Blue's hand covered his.
"Mine."
"Damn straight, Bluebell. Every inch." Spencer gave her a slow, enticing smile. "Now, what are you going to do with me?"
Blue didn't need the question twice. She'd imagined this moment a hundred times. A thousand. The scenario changed—depending on her mood. But the beginning never altered.
"Lose the clothes."
"There's nothing sexier than a woman who knows what she wants," Spencer said, stripping down without hesitation.
"Or a man who's willing to give it to her."
Another time, Blue would request a striptease. Emphasis on the tease. Tonight, she didn't have the patience. With a shove, she had Spencer on his back, her legs on either side of his lean waist.
"You're bigger than I remember."
"Really?"
Blue laughed when Spencer shifted his hips, his erection brushing the inside of her thigh.
"Not down there."
Spencer had been genetically blessed. Gorgeous face. Strong, naturally lean body. As for his penis? Long. Straight. Wonderfully hard when the occasion arose—so to speak. But best of all. He played his instrument like a virtuoso.
"I meant you're bigger up here." Blue touched Spencer's shoulders, her hands running down his muscled arms. "You were always well-built. But now…"
What more could Blue do but sigh? And devour him with her gaze.
"You seem more delicate," Spencer said. His wandering fingers came to rest on Blue's hips. "Yet somehow curvier."
"I like the differences."
"Me, too."
Spencer rose, his arms curving around Blue. He caressed her back, the line of her spine, the slope of her butt. His lips found hers. She sank into the kiss, the desperation was gone, but not the intensity.
Taking Blue with him, Spencer rolled to his side. His touch, so thorough, sent sparks of pleasure across her skin. The feel of his mouth on her breasts had her crying out, her fingers digging into the sheets as her back arched off the mattress
We've been here before, Blue thought as a haze enveloped her brain. Familiar yet wonderfully new.
The differences were inevitable. Time. Experience.
Blue wasn't the same young woman. Spencer had changed, too.
The chemistry remained. Undeniable as always. But if Blue had expected to know what was coming. To anticipate Spencer's moves. She was wrong.
Amazingly, earth-shatteringly, mind-blowingly, in the best way possible, wrong.
"Did you moan like that before?" Spencer asked, raising his lips from where they were enjoying Blue's taste. His fingers kept playing between her legs.
The relentless barrage on her body made breathing a chore. How was she supposed to keep track of her accompanying soundtrack?
"What moan?"
Spencer slid his fingers a little deeper.
"That one."
"No. Maybe." Blue licked her lips. The next noise out of her mouth bordered on operatic. "You've learned a few new tricks. If my moans sound different, blame yourself."
"You don't say?"
Spencer sounded pleased and a little too cocky for Blue's liking. He'd always known how to play her body. In four years, he'd traveled from expert to master craftsman. If he wanted to bask in his accomplishments, let him.
Not right now!
Blue nudged Spencer in the thigh with her knee, careful to keep clear of a certain vital, distended organ. Another time. When she was no longer in desperate need of it or the man attached.
The way Blue felt at the moment. She didn't know when that would be. Sixty? Maybe seventy years from now?
"Why are you talking?" Blue asked. Taking Spencer's face between her hands, she made certain she had his full attention. "More action, less conversation. Understand?"
"Load and clear, Bluebell."
The intensity of Spencer's gaze belied his teasing tone. Green fire swirled in his eyes. A telling sign.
Spencer wanted Blue. As much as she wanted him.
As Spencer settled between Blue's eagerly accommodating legs, his lips met hers.
"Wait." God, the man fogged her brain past all reason. "Condom," Blue gasped.
"Already suited up and ready for action."
When?
A second later, as Spencer slowly joined their bodies, Blue hazily wondered why she cared. About anything. Anything except this.
Spencer. The rush of feelings. Higher. Higher. Further than she imagined possible. Nothing else mattered. Nothing else ever would.
"I can't hold on much longer," Spencer ground out the words, sweat beading his brow. "But I need you with me, Blue."
Blue wrapped herself around Spencer. Arms. Legs. Body. Pounding so hard, her heart almost leaped from her chest.
Pleasure exploded from her toes to the top of her head. Radiant light burst in behind her eyes, blinding her to everything else.
Spencer collapsed, his body briefly blanketing hers before moving just enough to keep from crushing her, never losing contact.
Her head resting on Spencer's shoulder, her hair tangled around his arm, anchoring him. Tight and secure. Blue floated on a cloud. Exhausted in the best possible way.
What tomorrow would bring, Blue couldn't say. Honestly, she didn't care. Not now. She could worry about the future when she didn't have Spencer's arms around her. Or the steady beat of his heart under her hand.
"All's good?" Spencer asked, brushing his lips against Blue's temple.
Blue shut off her brain, closed her eyes, and continued to float. With a sigh, she smiled.
"All's good."
For a Little While (One Strike Away Book 1) Page 13