High Heat (Hard Hitters #1)

by Linda Morris

  “Not true. You have many impressive qualities.” She cleared her throat. “Speaking of which, I might want to get a look at those soon.”

  “You got it.” He finished unbuttoning his shirt and pulled it off, and her mouth dried. She reached to remove his belt, yanking hard on the stiff leather. Tossing it aside, she reached for the metal button on his jeans, letting her fingers slide inside the waist, against the skin of his abdomen.

  This was Tom Cord, teenage crush, playboy, man who hadn’t given her the time of day.

  Don’t think. If only her brain had an off switch.

  Then he helped her unbutton his jeans and shoved them past his hips, and she discovered her brain did have an off switch after all, and he’d just flipped it.

  Oh, my.

  “I’ve never seen anything quite like that before,” she breathed, and he chuckled.

  “That’s good for my ego.”

  “As if you needed that,” she said absentmindedly, still staring at one of the more impressive erections she’d ever seen. She touched him, and his breath stopped, his lightly furred chest going still. His heat and solidity branded her palm, and she added her other hand to the mix, moving her thumb across the tip and teasing the moisture she found there.

  He closed his eyes and thrust his hips forward, leaning into her movements with every pulse. She stroked him until he exhaled hard and wrenched away from her. “Enough.” He pushed her over to lie on the bed. He had her pants and underwear off before she could speak and had his head between her thighs a moment after that.

  “Oh, my.” Oh, my. Couldn’t she say anything besides Oh, my? No, she couldn’t, because if she didn’t say that, she’d probably cry or faint or throw up or something. Before, oral sex had always seemed kind of like an appetizer. Enjoyable, but not why you came to the restaurant. Tom seemed to be settling in and preparing to enjoy a nine-course meal, so to speak, and she liked it.

  “Oh, my,” she said, louder this time, and he chuckled, exhaling warmly on the tender skin between her thighs. The sensation made her shiver. A groan slipped out of her.

  “Better keep it down. Isn’t one of the coaches in the room next door?”

  “Oh, shit. Yes.” Her face heated and she threw a wrist over her forehead. “What if one of those idiots calls my dad to tell him they heard moans coming out of my hotel room?”

  Tom paused and looked up, a gleam in his eye. “If your dad asks, tell him you were watching porn.”

  A laugh erupted and she rolled her eyes. “Uh, yeah, that would be only slightly better than having sex in his opinion.”

  “What about your opinion?” he teased, lowering his head to resume the caresses that were driving her insane.

  Her breath caught, and for a moment, she couldn’t speak. “I like this much better,” she finally said on an exhale.

  “That’s what I thought.”

  She let her hands drift into his hair, holding him in place, directing him with a tug or a touch. Heat swept through her, across her chest and shoulders, but she knew this particular activity wouldn’t get her to climax. It never did. He added a finger. And then another. She wasn’t sure exactly what he touched or how he did it, but in moments she was arching, crying, tears streaming down her face. She muffled the sounds with the back of her hand.

  Holy crap. Tom Cord was a miracle worker. He’d made her come with his mouth.

  “Shhh,” he whispered, and the exhalation sent another soft whisper across her privates, which pulsed in response.

  She lay on the bed, legs splayed in a very unladylike position, her arms by her side, boneless.

  “You still awake?”

  She was, but she didn’t know how long that would last. Every muscle was melting into the mattress, and her eyelids felt like they were weighted down with anvils. She made a vague gesture with one hand, her eyes still closed. “Yeah. Don’t mind me. You go about your business and do whatever you need to do.”

  “Now that is truly unflattering.”

  She opened one eye. He’d straightened, kicking off his shoes and sliding his jeans and underwear off. He fished in the pocket of his jeans and pulled out a condom.

  She was on the pill, but the sight of the condom was a relief anyway—until a lucid thought hit her pleasure-addled brain. “Wait a minute. I asked you to meet me at the ice machine, and you brought a condom?”

  “I was hoping it was more of a booty call.” He knelt beside her.

  “It was,” she confessed.

  “Lucky for me.” He donned the condom and slid into her with startling ease. He felt so right, so strong and solid. She slid her hands up his arms and welcomed him home.

  He took nothing for granted, setting a steady rhythm while he explored the soft skin between her legs with his fingertips and bent to dust her throat and neck with soft kisses that drew shivers from her. She’d nearly given up after her first climax. Sometimes she had trouble getting to one—expecting to come again struck her as greedy, but in moments, she knew it was going to happen. Oh God, greed really was good. A hot pulse of energy exploded where their bodies met, and she squeezed shut her eyes, hanging on and savoring every burst of sensation.

  Moments later, he shook and stiffened, and she smiled at the sight of his tough competitor’s face softened by pleasure. Pleasure that she’d brought him. His body slackened over hers, limp and satisfied, a loopy, happy grin on his face that had to match the one on hers.

  Damn, but sometimes it was good to be a woman. It was good to be Tom’s woman, if only for the night.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The ring of her phone had Sarah fumbling on the nightstand. She should have silenced it, but she hadn’t expected to be sleeping in. The reason she’d slept in, along with some lovely aches and twinges in her lower body, had her smiling even as she picked up the phone.

  She checked the readout to make sure it wasn’t her dad.

  Whew. It was Paul. Safe to answer.

  “Yes?”

  “Are you nuts?” The shout had her pulling the phone away from her ear in a hurry. She sat up and rearranged a pillow behind her. Maybe it hadn’t been safe to answer after all.

  “Hi, Paul. It’s nice to talk to you too. Do you ever call me other than when I’m in bed and you need to yell at me?”

  “What are you doing still in bed? It’s ten AM.” She couldn’t miss the suspicion in his voice and winced. She really should not have let that slip.

  “Catching up on some email,” she lied. No point telling him she was sleeping off a night of highly enjoyable, wanton behavior with his old college buddy. Nope, none at all.

  “You must not be responding to mine, then, because I’ve emailed you three times since yesterday.”

  “Sorry, I’ve been awfully busy what with the road trip and the press conference last night.” And having bed-shaking, body-rocking sex with that bad boy you keep warning me about.

  She had to bite her lip to hold back a giggle. Who knew a naughty secret could be so much fun?

  “Not to mention the bus ride. Don’t forget about that.”

  Ah. Now we come to the crux of the matter. “Yes, I rode on the bus. Like all the other team personnel. What of it?”

  “You know what of it.”

  “What, you’re taking Dad’s side? I thought we agreed he was ridiculous and old-fashioned.”

  “I’m not talking about Dad. I’m talking about that little scene with Tom. You know, where he threw his cape down over the mud for you and made Reedy let you on the bus.”

  “It was very sweet.” She could have bitten her tongue as soon as she spoke. That had sounded like something her love-struck teenaged self would have said.

  “Oh, Tom’s never short of sweetness, especially when he’s trying to get in some woman’s pants.”

  “I don’t think that had anything to do with why he did that.” Best to skirt that whole issue of who had gotten in whose pants and why. That subject couldn’t bear a lot of scrutiny right now, with her body still wor
n out and delightfully achy from lovemaking. Sex, she corrected herself. They’d had sex, not made love.

  “Yeah? If he wasn’t trying to get in your pants, why would he bother?”

  “Because he saw an injustice and wanted to right it, that’s why.”

  His laugh wasn’t kind. “Oh, sure. Tom Cord, crusader for justice. In between hanging out in bars and screwing everything in a skirt, I’m sure he’s making the world a better place. Grow up, Sarah.”

  His words hit her like a blow. She had to take a few breaths before she could frame a coherent response. “I thought Tom was your friend. You’re not giving him very much credit if that’s what you think of him. You definitely aren’t giving me any credit. You think I’d fall into bed with any pro athlete who crooked his finger?”

  Isn’t that what you just did? She squelched the thought as soon as it arose.

  “Sarah, of course I don’t think that, but you had a crush on Tom back in the day. You followed him around like a puppy dog.”

  “What of it? Lots of girls have crushes. They get over them.” When all else fails, bluster.

  “Some girls do, but did you?” She opened her mouth to insist that of course she’d gotten over him, but the words stuck in her throat. “Sarah, I care about you,” Paul continued, his voice softening. “I don’t want you to get hurt. Promise me you won’t get involved with Tom. He’ll be going back to Chicago in a matter of weeks, if not days. You don’t want to be left behind.”

  “What makes you think I’d be left behind?”

  It was the wrong thing to say.

  “Shit, Sarah.” Her brother sighed. “You’re in love with him, aren’t you?”

  “No, I’m not,” she ground out, not even bothering to wonder if it was true. Dammit, she should have told him they weren’t involved, that she cared nothing for Tom, or even that it was none of his business. Instead, she’d whined that he might not leave her behind, sounding like every bit the infatuated teen she’d once been. “Paul, I’m a grown woman. I make my own choices. I’m not denying or confirming anything. I’m saying it’s none of your business.”

  “And I’m team president. If the front office blows up because Dad finds out you’re sleeping with Tom, it damn well is my business, and you know it. You know how he feels about that.”

  “I know it,” she said evenly. “Don’t worry. Nothing is going to blow up.”

  “That makes it sound suspiciously like there’s something going on that you don’t want to tell me.”

  “I said nothing is going to blow up, Paul.”

  “I hope you’re right.” He sighed. “I love you, little sis. It’s been you and me since Mom died. You know that, right?”

  Her throat closed and she had to swallow before she could speak with a steady voice. “I know that. You’ve always been there for me, and I’ve been there for you.”

  “I don’t want to see you get hurt. It was so hard to talk dad even into giving you the job you’ve got.”

  “I know.” Paul had taken her side when Dad would have left her out of the family business altogether, or at best given her an administrative job. Paul had insisted she get a job in marketing to learn the ropes from her Uncle Frank, and when he and Aunt Mary had retired to Florida, she’d taken over for him, once again with Paul’s support. It wasn’t the coaching position she’d dreamed of, but Paul had done the best by her that he could, given that he still had to listen to Dad’s opinion. “I know you went to bat for me. I’ll appreciate that forever, Paul, but you don’t have to worry so much.”

  “Okay, little sis. If you say so. I’ll leave you alone and trust you to do the right thing.” It was the kind of thing their mother used to say, and it made her feel guiltier than anything. A long silence fell, and then he cleared his throat. “Hey, did I tell you? The White Sox GM called yesterday. They’re calling up Posada next week. That leaves us with a big hole in the outfield. The decision is up to them, of course, but they wanted some suggestions about who could fill in. Anybody I should look at?”

  Sarah squeezed shut her eyes. At the mention of the White Sox GM, her heart had pounded like a rabbit’s. She’d feared for a second that Tom had been called up.

  Knowing she was wrong didn’t calm her much. If a mere second’s worry that he’d been called up could send adrenaline rushing through her, what would happen when he really got the call?

  “Sarah?”

  “Yeah, right. Hole in the outfield. Ah, let’s see. There’s a kid down in Single-A, JaJuan Phillips. He’s got a great glove and runs like a deer. He bats around .260, but I think he could improve that with the right coaching. Give him a look. Maybe the White Sox would sign off on bringing him up.”

  “Phillips. Huh. Okay, I don’t know him.” He paused and papers rustled. “I’ll give him a look. Thanks, hon.”

  They ended the call and Sarah sat for a moment looking at her phone. The conversation had killed her post-sexual buzz dead.

  If Paul took her hooking up with Tom this badly, how would her dad react?

  The solution was simple. She and Tom had to make sure no one found out.

  ***

  “Man, you’re totally banging her, aren’t you?” Coco shook his head. “I know you want to keep that on the down low, but no way you’re going to be able to do that.”

  Tom’s head jerked up, assessing Coco’s impassive face across the table. The sports bar had a half-dozen big screens tuned to ESPN and memorabilia all over the walls that was probably supposed to make it seem unique, but only succeeded in making it look like every other sports bar in America.

  Tom had made his first start after the end of his suspension tonight in Frankfort, Kentucky. It had been a pretty good outing. He’d given up only three hits and one run. Reedy hadn’t wanted to push him the first day back, so he’d pulled him in the seventh inning with a one-run lead. A lead that the bullpen hadn’t been able to hold, so they’d wound up losing, 4–3. To make matters worse, he’d felt something twinging in his elbow after the fifth. He’d never admit it, but he’d been glad to see Reedy coming out to the mound to pull him.

  When Coco had suggested they go out for a beer after the game, he’d accepted gladly. Sarah had texted him that she had too much stuff to do tonight, so he wouldn’t be able to slip off to her room, and a night spent watching the guys on SportsCenter speculate about his elbow while he tried to ignore the flashes of pain sounded like as much fun as juggling hammers.

  “Banging who?” Damn. He’d waited too long to speak. If he’d really been in the dark about who Coco meant, he would have said something sooner.

  Coco’s eyes rolled as he took a sip of his longneck. “Whatever, man. You wanna keep secrets from me, go ahead, but I’ve got eyes in my head, and so do some other guys. Watch yourself. It’s all I’m saying.”

  It was the same thing Tom had told himself a dozen times, but hearing it from Coco still stung. With a shrug, he decided to trust his friend. Coco obviously knew the score and wanted to give him some advice. “What of it? I’m a grown-up. So’s she. I’m going back to Chicago soon, but no reason we can’t have some fun ’til then.”

  Somehow that rationale sounded much better in his head. Out loud, it sounded kind of dickish.

  “Whatever. I’m telling you, though, I’ve been playing here two years. This here’s a small town. I don’t want to say they’re crackers, but, well, they didn’t go blue in the last election, you know what I’m saying?”

  Tom blinked. “I have no idea what you’re saying. How did we get on politics?”

  “I’m saying this is a conservative, small town. They may think you’re hot shit when you’re playing for the team and winning games for ’em, but you start messing with one of the richest, nicest, prettiest girls in town, the daughter of the team owner, no less?” He shook his head. “They won’t like it.”

  “Come on. This is the twenty-first century. People don’t think like that anymore.” Did they?

  “Not here it isn’t. In Plainview, it’s
still the twentieth century. They never turned the page on the calendar. ’Sides, what guy from Plainview is gonna want to date her after you’re gone? Man, nobody in this town can compete with you. You’ll be off in Chicago banging a supermodel from Russia or some shit like that, and she’ll be back here by herself, trying to live you down.”

  The idea of getting with another woman right now struck him as disloyal, which made no sense. They both knew this was temporary. Of course he’d sleep with other women in Chicago. She’d sleep with other guys too. Maybe by coincidence, his beer suddenly tasted flat. He shoved it away.

  Damn, why hadn’t he ordered a burger or something? He had eaten lightly throughout the day, typical for him on a game day. This beer was settling wrong on his empty stomach. No doubt that explained his sudden queasiness. He nodded to a waitress and requested a menu when she arrived at their table, all smiles for him. She barely spared Coco a glance.

  When she left, Coco gave him a significant look. “You see what I’m saying? You get this kind of attention everywhere you go. I seen it. Even here in Asswipe, Kentucky, you got the girls all over you! You telling me that’s not gonna happen in Chicago? Meanwhile, she’s gonna be back in Hicksville—excuse me, Plainview—seeing that poor boy who lives with his mama. He’s not going to be much to go back to when you’re gone.”

  Tom had never once considered what would happen after he left. Thinking about the future wasn’t his style. He shrugged it off. “Ah, they’re not serious. She dated him to pass the time. She told me they weren’t any big deal.”

  “Well, she’s going to have some more time to pass once you leave town, mark my words. She’ll be lucky if her dad don’t get wind of this. If he does, she could be looking for a new job.”

  “What?” He ran his eyes down the menu and settled on a beef burrito. “Her old man wouldn’t fire her for something like that. She’s his daughter!” Coco was a nice guy, but he was wrong about that. He exaggerated all the time for the sake of a good story. Walter Dudley would never overreact like that.

  “Don’t make that mistake, my friend. That old man Dudley has balls of steel and a heart made of brass. No limit to what he might do if he found out she crossed him. Don’t make the mistake of thinking the old man approves of you. You dated that girl who put her privates all over the Internet. He may like it when you win ball games for him, but trust me—the man looks down on you. You are not good enough for his daughter.”