MINE FOR THE WEEK

by Kelly, Erika

  Those big hands glided up her ribcage, thumbs brushing the undersides of her breasts. “Sophie Valentine.” He whispered her name with reverence. Brushing the hair off her shoulders, he ran his fingers across her collarbone, between her breasts, and then gently cupped them. “You are magnificent.”

  He leaned forward, pressing feather-soft kisses to the corner of her mouth and the curve of her neck. He licked the dip in her collarbone, while those big hands caressed her everywhere.

  “More. I need more.” Hands on his shoulders, she pushed him back, leaning forward until her hair spilled around them.

  He took possession of her breasts, cupping them, caressing them, his fingers tweaking her nipples. She thought she’d go crazy with need. Her hips rocked, but the layer of lace between them only frustrated her. She sat up on her knees and pulled off her panties.

  But then he pushed forward, tumbling her onto her back. He kissed her, fingers skimming up the back of her thigh, stroking the curve of her ass. “Softest skin I’ve ever felt.”

  “Ryan.” The word came out a whisper, paper-thin.

  He moved over her, an arm wrapping around her waist, his mouth pressed to her neck. With his thighs bracketing her hips, he locked their bodies together.

  “Sophie. My Sophie.” He trailed hot, wet kisses to her collarbone, one hand cupping her breast. “Mine.” His voice turned to a growl just before his lips closed over her nipple.

  Her back arched, and she gasped at the warm suction. Fire blazed a path straight to her clit and burst into radiant desire. She loved the heat of his skin, the flex of hard muscle.

  She needed more. Reaching for his bottom, she grasped the hard globes and pulled him to her.

  “Soph, fuck.” His hips rocked into her.

  And then, God, he was claiming her, devouring her. He kissed her with his whole body, with every fiber of his being, drawing her out, stroking her senses to life.

  She felt him everywhere. On her skin, in her senses, and in her heart.

  Tomorrow, she’d let him go. Tomorrow, she’d get off this crazy ride. But tonight? She wanted him. All of him.

  Yanking down his boxers, she pushed them off with her toes. He groaned, whispering her name reverently, as his mouth pressed wet kisses into her neck and onto the tops of her breasts.

  And then his mouth closed over her nipple, his tongue swirling sensuously. She arched, fingers scraping into his hair, holding him right there.

  Oh, yes, right there. Desire pulsed in her clit, enflaming her. Need tore her open, exposing her throbbing center.

  “Ryan.” She pulled at his arms, but he didn’t take his mouth off her nipple, his tongue worshiping it, as his hips pressed down. His hot erection pressed against her stomach, and she lifted her hips, lodging it between their bodies. When she reached for him, he pushed her hand away.

  “Let me, Soph. Let me have all of you.”

  He pressed wet kisses down her stomach, his hands caressing her flesh, leaving a glowing trail in their wake. And then he parted her thighs, his tongue dipping into her aching core. He licked into her, his hands sliding under her ass and lifting her to his mouth. His tongue stroked through her folds, making her body burn.

  She loved the way he made her feel. Loved the way he seemed to care so much about pleasing her. His tongue took long, decadent licks, while his thumb lightly circled her clit. Her hips rocked, and she grabbed the back of his head.

  Delicious sensation rolled through her, spreading and enflaming her. Just as she cupped her breasts, he reached up and knocked her hands away, gently squeezing one and rubbing his thumb over her nipple. God, that just lit her up. That he wanted her pleasure to come from him.

  “You make me feel…” His tongue licked up her length, swirling around her clit, and her back arched off the mattress. Everything in her sizzled, turned electric. She’d never felt so alive, so in touch with her body. “You make me feel everything.”

  Oh, God. His palm scraped back and forth across her nipples, his fingers pinching with each pass, until her body lit up, and the first rush of sensation clutched her. She didn’t want it to end. Never, ever wanted this feeling to end. Head thrashing on the pillow, hips thrusting against his mouth, she cried out, her climax rising, tightening, flashing through her.

  And then she burst free. “Oh, God.” His hands held onto her hips, as he licked hard and fast. “Ryan!” It was so intense, so wild, her body wouldn’t stop convulsing. Even as she settled, even as he lifted away from her, she still trembled from deep within.

  But he didn’t give her a moment to come back into her body. He kissed her voraciously, a hand under her ass, as he pushed into her. Each stroke lit her up, and before long he was pounding into her with a force that pushed her down the bed.

  Grabbing her knee, he lifted her leg, tilting her hips, and he eased in even deeper. “Ah, fuck. Oh, fucking hell. Jesus, Sophie, I…fuck.” He slammed her so hard, her teeth knocked together. Nothing had ever turned her on more than his wild, primal need for her.

  Sensation bloomed deep within, as his body stiffened, his movements turning erratic, jerky. She kept herself still, as he passed over the same spot that ramped up her desire into a wild, uncontrollable burst of fire that spread through her limbs, locking her muscles as another climax lit a scorching path along her limbs.

  Panting harshly, his hands gripped her hips and held her down, as he pumped into her in short, desperate stabs. And then he collapsed on top of her, breathing harshly at her ear.

  He kissed her cheek, before slowly rolling off her, a hand rubbing over his face. “Jesus, Soph.”

  How the hell are we supposed to walk away from this?

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Light flickered behind his eyelids. Flashes of brightness that pricked at his consciousness, until a growing sense of alarm awakened him. He lifted his head, disoriented.

  What the hell?

  Sophie stirred in his arms, making him aware of his hard dick prodding her ass. As his eyes adjusted to the dark, he could make out the feminine slope of her shoulders, the fall of dark hair on the white pillow, and the bare skin of her back.

  So beautiful.

  Last night—fuck—last night he’d loved her so hard. How was it possible to want someone so much? He’d touched and licked every inch of her smooth skin. And he still needed more.

  The light flashed again, and he saw the phone on the nightstand. It struck him that he’d never checked in with Jake and Dixon. After listening to his agent’s voicemail, he’d forgotten to tell his friends he wasn’t coming back to the resort.

  Careful not to wake her, he gently lifted his arm off her body. She made a sound of protest, before curling her hand under her pillow and burrowing deeper into it.

  Sliding off the mattress, he moved as quietly as possible to grab the phone.

  Twenty-three text messages, a pile of missed calls, and voicemail messages.

  Setting the phone down, he stepped into his shorts, zipped them up, and then headed out onto the balcony. The salty, moist air hit him right away. Waves crashed on the beach. It was dark, just a thin, glowing band of dawn on the horizon.

  He sat on the edge of a deck chair and swiped the screen. A half-dozen messages from Emma. Jesus Christ, why wouldn’t she leave him alone? But then he saw texts from some of his teammates.

  Instead of reading each one, he’d call Mike, his closest friend on the team. Find out what was going on.

  “Yeah?” Mike sounded sleepy.

  “I wake you up?”

  “Yeah, we got a game coming up, man. Where the hell are you?”

  “Why’s everyone blowing up my phone?”

  “Your girlfriend’s been messaging us.” His voice sounded sleep-roughened. “At first she just wanted to know why you weren’t calling her back. I told her you weren’t here. You had a family emergency. She backed off, but now she’s at it again. I guess she called your house, and no one knew of anything wrong. So now everyone’s goin’ nuts trying to find out whe
re you are.”

  “I’m in the Caribbean.”

  Silence. Ryan lowered his head into a hand. I’m such a dick.

  Mike let out a breath. “You…Wait, what?” He sounded much more awake. “You skipped out on our games for spring break?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You lied to Coach.”

  He got the deeper message. Ryan had lied to him. His teammates. “Yeah.” He felt like shit.

  “What about the scouts? I don’t get it, man. What’re you doing?”

  “I just…” He straightened. Own it. “Everything was closing in on me. I needed to get away.”

  “Now? You needed it now, you dumbfuck?” He blew out a breath. “I can’t believe I’m hearing this. Why didn’t you tell me? I’d have talked you out of it.”

  “I didn’t want to be talked out of it. Look, I know I did a shitty thing, but I’ll take this time, and when I come back, I’ll be ready to kick some ass.”

  “For what? Our final season at Mich U? Who gives a rat’s ass about that when we’re talking about the Bigs? I’d give my left nut for that chance. I mean, serious as shit, man. If I had a tenth of your ability, your fuckin’ discipline, I’d be all over this shit. You think I’d piss my opportunity away if I was considered the best short stop in the country? Jesus, Six, I never would’ve expected shit like this from you.”

  “I took a few days off. It’s not like I killed somebody. Jesus.”

  “Yeah, well, just to put a cherry on top, guess what? Your girl’s on her way to Florida. She thinks you’re here.”

  Damn her. “I’ll take care of it.”

  “You gonna tell anyone else where you’re at?”

  “No. And I’d appreciate it if you’d keep it to yourself for now.”

  “Yeah, sure, man.” His friend blew out a breath. “I think you’re fuckin’ up, but if anyone can pull out of it, it’s you.”

  “Thanks, Mike.”

  “What do you want me to tell Emma if she messages me again?”

  “You don’t have to tell her anything. It’s none of her damn business.”

  “She’s makin’ it everybody’s business.”

  “Then I’ll make her stop. See you soon.”

  The line went dead. He opened Emma’s last text.

  Just landed at JFK.

  And the one before that.

  Boarding. I’m so worried about you. God, I wish you’d just talk to me.

  And one more.

  Your dad won’t answer his phone. I’m worried about you. Talk to me!!!

  In the past he’d tolerated her drama. Balancing school, sports, and a social life kept him busy enough to not care too much. But this time? He was done. He tapped out a response.

  You’re out of control. Leave my friends and family alone. I told you not to come out and see me and that I’d talk to you next week.

  She wrote back instantly.

  OMG, where r u?

  He needed to shut her down without creating more drama. But he was running out of patience.

  I said I wanted space and I meant it. Now back off.

  You’re not acting right. This isn’t you. Is something wrong?

  Nothing’s wrong. I’m serious, stop stirring up trouble. You need to stop texting me. I’m fine. Shutting off my phone now.

  But she got in one more text before he powered it down.

  I’m totally freaking out. Ur not with ur team. Ur not talking to me. I no something’s wrong.

  He shot off the chair, stalked across the balcony, and gripped the rail. Honestly, he couldn’t blame Emma for his problems. He chose to bail on his team. He chose to lie to his friends and coach.

  He didn’t doubt for a second that even if he’d had a real emergency that coincided with spring break, the scouts would question the timing. They’d seen it all. But if they found out he had lied…forget it. He’d come across as immature, arrogant. Like he thought a first-round pick didn’t need to show up.

  Of course, he didn’t think that way at all. He thought the opposite. All he did was train and play. His entire life was about his diet, exercise, and being a role model for his teammates. And the majors? Come on, training would be harder and more intense than anything he’d ever done.

  Fuuuck. Baseball would become his life. Well, of course, it already was his life. Which was why he’d bailed in the first place. Because for a few days he hadn’t wanted it to be.

  He thought about Sophie and realized one of the things that drew her to him was the way she lived her life. Her spirit of adventure. Her passion to experience everything. He didn’t do that.

  I don’t have passion.

  The thought jolted him. He did everything he was supposed to do—get up on time, drink a protein shake, work out, get to class, study, practice, lights out—lather rinse repeat—to the point that it had become a mindless routine.

  Earlier, at dinner, she’d pushed him to pay attention to the menu. To actually decide what he liked, instead of just taking what was offered.

  Okay, enough of this shit. This wasn’t some fucking existential crisis. He did love baseball, and he wasn’t going to blow up his life because he didn’t know if he liked shellfish or not.

  No, what he needed was balance. Going forward, he’d play as hard as he trained. Meaning every vacation and every break, he’d travel, see the world, get laid, have fun. Sure, he’d keep up his work-outs—he needed those for his sanity—but he needed to build breaks into his schedule.

  If he did that—balanced fun with training—he’d look forward to playing again. Drawing in a deep breath, he felt better. More settled about things. He just had to manage the situation he’d created.

  Intending to call his agent, he wound up hitting his dad’s speed dial.

  “Yep. Yello. This is Bill.” He sounded groggy.

  “Dad?”

  “Oh, hell, son. Hang on a minute.”

  Ryan could hear fumbling, some grunts, and then his dad came back on the line.

  His dad barked out a laugh. “Phone scared the crap out of me. Okay, I’m up.”

  “Sorry to wake you.”

  “You sure stirred up some trouble.”

  “I see that.”

  “So, Emma’s been callin’ the house.”

  “I know.”

  “You talk to her?”

  “Yeah, I talked to her. Told her I wanted her to back off.”

  “Break-up’s been hard on her. She loves you.”

  “Well…” He needed to say the words out loud. “I don’t love her. But she doesn’t get that it’s actually over.”

  “You’ve broken up a lot. She figures you’ll take her back.”

  “I’m not.” Not after Sophie. He hadn’t known a relationship could be like that. Ha. A relationship. See what I did there? Jake was right—he’d traded one girlfriend for another. He shook his head, forcing his thoughts back on track. “So, yeah, she told the guys there’s no family crisis. Now everyone knows.”

  “Why would she do that? Never mind. Forget I asked. The girl loves her drama. So, what’re you gonna do? You figure your shit out yet?”

  He knew he should tell him about the forty-eight hours. That he was heading back to Florida. But resistance pulled. Maybe his dad would see his perspective. “I’m not doing anything right now. I’m taking my break.”

  His dad went quiet. Ryan braced.

  “You think your coach doesn’t want a break?” His dad sounded hard, angry. “He’s got a wife, kids, an athletic director, and a bunch of players who think with their dicks, get drunk, don’t keep up their grades, and give him attitude every day of the week. Life closes in around all of us, but we don’t skip out on it.”

  “I know that, Dad. It’s not like I do this all the time. I did it once. And I don’t regret it.”

  “Will you regret it if you get pulled from the next few games?”

  He didn’t even have to think. “No.”

  “How about if he tosses you off the team?”

  Rya
n felt the kick of that one. “I want to play.”

  “And what if it affects the draft? You gonna regret that?”

  “Yes.” His ego would. Being a first-round pick? Hell, yeah. If he was going to—

  Wait, if he was going to play? Damn Sophie for putting ideas in his head. Of course he wanted to play pro ball.

  What did he know better than the soft, worn-in leather of a glove? Oiling it, the smack of a ball hitting the inside pocket? The heat of the sun bearing down on him, the camaraderie of teammates? I like that.

  But if he were honest it didn’t excite him. And, truthfully, nothing beat the high he got from brainstorming ideas, working on apps. His brain never shut down. From the moment he’d seen the Crazy Heart ink on Sophie’s wrist his mind had been spinning with possibilities for a game app. If she went through with her idea to run the company on her own, he could create a website devoted to Crazy Hearts for her with all kinds of game.

  But could he make a living out of writing apps? Few people did.

  “Son, what do you want?”

  “I don’t know.” It was Monday. His coach expected him back for tomorrow’s game. But he wasn’t ready. He just…He wanted to crash his fist through a wall.

  Just go back. Jesus.

  “How about this? How about while you don’t know what you want, you keep on doing what you’re doing so you don’t blow up the path you’ve worked so hard to clear. Because once you blow it up, there’s no getting it back.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Baseball worked for you. Got you on the right path. And it’s gone well for you all these years. I’d hate for you to pull your first rebellious act at a time like this.”

  After his mom left, his dad had sent him to a therapist. She suggested sports as an outlet for his anger. And from the moment he’d chosen baseball, he’d gotten the kind of positive feedback he’d never had before. Including a whole community supporting him. And he didn’t want to let down all the people who’d worked so hard to get him to this point.