Caught by You (24 page)

She let out a harsh gasp as he fingered her clit. She'd given up on the possibility of this, never thought she'd experience the intimacy of his flesh against hers again. It was almost too much—­having him hot against her, after the misery of losing him.

“Legs apart,” he said hoarsely, close to her ear. “Go up on your tiptoes so I can get inside you. I need to be inside you.”

“Yes,” she moaned, wild for him. She did everything he said, pushing her hand against the wall, opening her legs for him, writhing against the hard shape of him as he bent over her. He ground his palm against her burning sex. “Oh God,” she gasped. “I can't . . . I'm going to . . .” She came, big, racking spasms convulsing her body. The orgasm still held her in its grip as he slid into her. A new pleasure sparked hard, and she arched her back to give him more space. Using both hands, he lifted her off the ground. With sheer brute strength, he worked her body over his cock while she palmed the wall for balance. From that angle, he touched a part of her that felt deep and hidden, like a secret spring in a forest, a place so intimate that nothing could be concealed. Not the way he made her shake and tremble. Not the way she whimpered his name, as if she loved him. And then, as he rocked into his own orgasm with a massive groan, words spilled from her lips in soft little murmurs. “I love you. I love you. I love you, Mike.”

She didn't think he heard. He seemed entirely primitive, hunched over her body like a beast, claiming her as if she was there only for his pleasure. All the sounds coming from him were grunts and groans, no words at all. She shut her eyes, hoping he hadn't heard . . . and also hoping he had, and that he'd say it back.

But there were no words from Mike. There was nothing but heat and sweat and primal noises, slick flesh and trembles of pleasure. Another long, soft orgasm rolled through her—­almost a sympathetic one, as if her body was so in tune with his that she couldn't help coming along with him.

His body relaxed, and he let out a long, hoarse sigh of completion. Gently, with supreme tenderness, he released her and let her feet touch the floor. Stroked her hair, his big hands drawing the strands away from her damp face and gathering them at the base of her neck. She rested her forehead against the wall to catch her breath.
Damn it, Solo
, she mouthed silently.
That wasn
't fair.

He stroked her gently until her body stopped trembling. “You okay?”

“Yeah. You?”

“Yeah. I'm great. Thanks to you. Everything else is crap. I just got suspended and probably have a contusion on my last kidney.”

“I'm sorry I got you suspended.”

“You didn't, sweet cheeks. That was all me. Donna . . .” He turned her to face him and gathered her into his arms. His green eyes, clear of shadows, smiled down at her. “You really are one fearless chick, you know that? You went and grabbed the hose. That's some kind of mad genius.”

“Well, no one was doing anything! They would have stood around and let you kill each other.”

“Nah. They tried to stop it but I pulled rank on Trevor. It needed to be done. God, it felt good to let Yaz have it.”

She bent down to retrieve her clothes. “I didn't think about the field getting all wet. Duke looked pretty mad. I wonder if Crush will fire me.”

“He'd better not. You're the best promotions girl we've ever had. You were amazing. And I'm not just saying that because . . .” He caught himself and left the sentence hanging.

“Because what?” How could he refuse to finish that sentence? Didn't he know he was torturing her?

“Because I'm hot for you.” With an exaggerated leer, he snatched her against him. “I could go again, right now. That's what you do to me.”

She wrenched herself away and grabbed her tangle of clothes. “Solo, you're as shallow as that puddle on the field. Besides, I thought you had a problem with sneaking around. Aren't you the one who dragged me into this closet?”

“I was an idiot to say those things. I had my head up my ass.” He helped her disentangle her bra and shirt.

She yanked on the bra, fastening it before he could assist. “Oh, so now you
do
want to sneak around? You're giving me whiplash.”

“No, that's not . . . I just . . . it's been such hell, everything . . . and then I saw you and I felt good for the first time since . . .” Even in the dim light of the closet the heartfelt look in his eyes made her heart clamor. Was it possible he felt what she did . . . even a little?

A sudden rapping on the closet made them both jump. A stern female voice said, “Who's in there? Why is my closet locked? You know what, I don't even want to know. I'm stepping away, and when I get back I want it empty and unlocked. You got that, you horny baseball perv, whoever you are?”

Donna buried her face in Mike's chest to stifle her laughter. His chest quaked under her cheek. Warmth spread through her, and she felt as if the top of her head might float away from the sheer pleasure of being with him again. She loved laughing with Mike. It was maybe her second favorite thing to do with him.

A few footsteps sounded, and then the voice came again. “And if that's Mike Solo in there, you might as well know there's a woman here to see you. Says her name is Angela.”

 

Chapter 24

A
NGELA?
T
HE NAME
echoed through the tiny closet like a detonation. Angela, here in Kilby? Mike couldn't put the pieces together; it made no sense.

Eyes blazing, Donna stepped away from him. “Angela? Your ex-­fiancée?”

“I guess so.” He didn't know any other Angelas who might show up out of the blue.

“I thought you never saw her anymore.” She was pulling on her clothes with amazing speed considering the tiny space.

“I don't, usually, but she was at the hospital in Chicago.”

“Why is she here?”

“I honestly don't know.” His thoughts were racing. Some kind of emergency? Family problem? It would have to be something pretty dire to make her fly all the way down to Kilby.

“Solo.” Donna, fully dressed now, put a hand to his chest, pinning him to a shelf of towels. “Don't treat me like a fool. She wouldn't be here without a good reason. Give me your best guess as to why she's here. We just had sex in a closet. I think I deserve to know.”

He caught her wrist, tugging her to him. “Donna, I didn't invite her here. I didn't know she was coming. All I know is what she said in Chicago.”

“Which was?”

Was there any way out of this that didn't involve pissing Donna off? He couldn't think of a single one. “Donna, it doesn't matter. It's over with her.”

“Then why is she here?”

“I don't know.” He looked around for his clothes, only to find he was standing on them. “But it probably has something to do with her family.”

“The family that made her break up with you?”

He bent down to retrieve his clothes. “Yes, well, apparently they've loosened up about that. As long as I make the majors, of course.”

“
What?
”

“Yep, that's the DiMatteos for you. It was almost like one of those revenge fantasies I used to have, like, when I'm a big shot in the majors, you'll come begging, that sort of thing.”

When he stood up, Donna was pulling away from him, staring at him as if he had three heads. “Revenge fantasy. So . . . getting engaged to me . . . you knew she'd hear about it. Was that part of the whole revenge idea?”

“God no!” He reached for her, but she slipped out of his grasp. “Donna, I swear that never entered my mind.”

But she continued on as if she'd barely heard him. “Well anyway, now you're free again, and her parents have loosened up, and she's here and . . .” Tears shimmered in her eyes, but she squared her shoulders. “Good-­bye, Mike.”

“Donna! Come on, don't do this.”

She ducked under his arm and skidded toward the door.

“You'd better go see her, Solo. She's the one you really want, isn't she? She has been all along.” With a sound like a sob, she flung open the door.

“Donna! That's not true—­”

Light flooded into the room. Still naked, he threw an arm over his eyes, and when his vision recovered from the blast of light, she was gone. Quickly, he pulled on his clothes and ran after her. The pain in her voice ripped at his heart. He couldn't even think about her accusations; all he cared about was finding her. He caught a quick flash of Donna's copper-­red hair as she zipped around the corner. He pounded after her and saw her slip out the exit.

Before he could push open the door and follow, someone grabbed his arm. “You're coming with me.”

“Duke, I'm in the middle of—­”

“You're in the middle of a shitstorm, and the ladies are going to have to wait. The tall brunette left a few minutes ago, said she's staying at the Lone Star Inn. Our own little redhead just drove off. Got any blondes hanging around?”

“No. Duke, this is important.”

“And this isn't? You and Yaz?” The thunderous look on Duke's face made Mike's stomach plummet. Duke had already suspended them. Was there more? Maybe there was. He was supposed to build trust with Yazmer, not attack him on the mound. He'd screwed up completely this time, and the Friars probably thought he was an unstable, hair-­trigger liability. Bye-­bye baseball career.

He groaned and pushed a hand through his hair. “Duke, I know I lost it out there. I'm sorry. If the Friars want to punt me down to single A or something, I get it. But right now I have to go after Donna.”

Duke heaved a heavy sigh. “Look, Solo, do you want to get called up or not?”

Mike spun around. “
What?
”

Duke marched down the hall toward his office, and this time Mike followed without protest. “You just ruined the only good moment in a minor league manager's life. Mostly it's all crap, but once in a while we get to do something fun like tell a guy he's being called up. Usually, the guy's pretty happy about that, not running in the opposite direction.”

They reached his office, where Duke virtually shoved him through the door. Crush Taylor lounged against the edge of the desk, staring at a photo of Nolan Ryan. He glanced over, tilted his sunglasses down his nose.

“Congratulations, Solo.”

Mike felt as if he'd gone on some crazy new roller-­coaster ride, one where you get turned upside down and tied to a bungee cord. “I don't understand. I just got suspended. And I deserved it.”

“Well, that's debatable.” Duke flipped open a box of cigars and offered one to Mike. He shook his head. “Heat of the moment, you know. Extenuating circumstances. Anyway, the Friars are going to honor the suspension, since I also suspended Yazmer. Can't very well let one of you off and not the other.”

“What about things with Yazmer? I screwed up about as bad as I could.”

“Overall, they like the way you've handled Yaz. His pacing is better and his asshole quotient is holding steady. You're supposed to report to Friar Stadium in four days. That'll give you enough time to wrap things up here. Work out all the issues in your love life. That kind of thing.” He winked one bulldog eye. “So . . . where's your excitement? Come on, I need that little tear in my eye I always get when I pass on the good news.”

Mike ducked his head, searching every corner of his heart for the triumph he'd always expected to feel at this moment. Nothing. Grief for Joey, worry about Donna, the last remains of anger toward Yazmer. Celebration? No sign of it. What was wrong with him? Why wasn't he jumping up and down? Joey would want him to rejoice. He would want him to savor this moment.

Maybe it was just too soon after returning to the game. “I'm still . . . uh . . . my brother . . .” He trailed off.

Duke gave him an odd little salute. “Nuff said.”

Mike stuffed his hands in his back pockets, wishing he could get the hell out of this office. Crush spoke up before he could make his escape. “We're going to miss you around here. I told those bastards in San Diego that they'd be idiots not to move you up. Guys like you don't come along very often.”

“Guys like me?” Mike frowned, his gaze straying to the window, where he could make out a sliver of the parking lot, but saw no sign of a red Kia. That's where he wanted to be right now—­working things out with Donna.

“Leaders. Guys who don't seek out the spotlight, but when it comes, they stand up for what they believe. On a personal note, I gotta thank you. You made Yazmer look like the ass he is. Hashtag CrushIt is now a complete joke and I can cross it off my list of Things Driving Me to Drink.”

“Plenty left there,” muttered Duke.

“I heard that. So, Mike Solo, if I manage to hang on to this team, it'll be partly thanks to you. And if the Wades take over, the good news is you'll be off to San Diego.”

Mike managed a smile, though that didn't feel like good news, exactly. He'd still care about the future of the Catfish, even if he wasn't part of it. “I hope you keep the team, sir. It's your team. The town likes it as it is. I've been out there talking to ­people and they like you. If the Wades buy it, it'll just be a trophy to them. They don't have any passion for baseball.”

“Thanks.” Crush strode forward to shake his hand. “Let me put another little seed in your head. Baseball is a fickle beast. You might have a long and prosperous career, or you might flame out like a moth hitting a zapper.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“It happens. You can't cry over it. It's baseball. Point is, I can always use a guy like you.”

“Um . . . for what?”

“Not sure yet. But you're smart and principled and ­people like you. You can talk to the press, the players dig you, chicks go crazy for you. That vow turned you into a rock star, and the funny thing is, that's not why you made the vow. I know, I know, I'm a cynical bastard, but you're not, and you never will be. Just keep it in mind, all right?”

He jammed his sunglasses over his eyes, clapped him on the shoulder, and strode out of the office, leaving Mike looking blankly at Duke. “Keep
what
in mind?”

“The hell if I know. When Crush talks, I just nod and plan the next day's lineup. Knock 'em dead in San Diego, Solo. And don't worry about any of the shit back here in Kilby. You did your time, now you can shake the dust off. Bright lights, big city. You'll be up on a billboard before you know it.”

“Thanks for everything, Duke. Really appreciate it.”

“Hey, nothing to it. Now go find that girl of yours. Or both girls. Not at the same time, unless that's the way you like it.”

Mike nearly choked on that image as he left Duke's office. He dialed Donna's number as he made his way back to the clubhouse to change. No answer. She must be really pissed.

The clubhouse was empty. A piece of paper was taped to his locker. “Mike Solo, you just jumped your own pitcher, forfeited a game, got suspended, and got called up! What are you going to do now? ROADHOUSE! Guys want to buy you a beer, bro. See you there. DC.”

Dwight Conner. He'd miss the dude. He'd miss all these guys. Jesus, was he really leaving? It didn't seem real. He stripped off his uniform, dumped it in the laundry basket, then walked to the showers. Under a stream of hot water, his thoughts returned to something Donna had said.
Getting engaged to me . . . you knew she'd hear about it.

Good God, of course he hadn't been thinking about Angela when he made his proposal to Donna. Angela hadn't even been a blip on his radar. Donna was way off base.

He soaped his chest, the scent of clean skin evoking Donna's presence with almost painful intensity.

She's the one you really want. She has been all along
.

Standing there in the shower, he forced himself to consider that accusation. Joey had said something similar, that he'd never really gotten over Angela. Was it true? He never thought about her anymore. But had he let his hurt feelings, his wounded pride, keep him from giving his heart to anyone else? To Donna?

If only he could call Joey. He'd know what to do and say. A pang of grief so deep it felt like a physical entity twisted in his gut. He wrenched the water to cold, sluiced the soap off his body, and slammed off the faucet.

As he was toweling off, something came back to him.

In the closet with Donna, he'd experienced the most intense orgasm of his life. After all the grief and tension of his trip to Chicago, the physical release had been tremendous. So much pleasure had flooded his brain, it was nearly an out-­of-­body experience. He'd heard Donna's soft words as if from a distance, as if someone else was saying them to some other guy in some other closet.
I love you. I love you
.

She loved him
. She'd said so, and he'd been so out of his mind from that orgasm that he hadn't said a word in response. Afterward, she'd acted as if nothing had happened, laughing and teasing as always, until they'd been interrupted. Then she'd lashed out and taken off.

And now Angela was here. Could this be any more effed up?

He dried off and threw on his street clothes. Before he hashed things out with Donna, he needed to find out why Angela was here. And then he needed to figure out what to say to her.

Donna had no time to nurse her broken heart. Her impulsive actions on the baseball field turned her into an instant YouTube sensation. Someone at the game had recorded the crazy scene, uploaded it, and by six-­thirty that evening it already had ten thousand views. It seemed that everyone wanted to watch a crazy promotions girl hose down a pair of minor league players. So many calls poured in that she had to turn her phone off. Burwell Brown called from the
Kilby Press-­Herald
, requesting a quote for the front page article set to run the next morning. Her old lawyer called, her new lawyer called, even her mother called from New York.

“Sweetie, you're famous! I always knew you took after me,” she said in her message. “I can probably get you on one of the entertainment shows if you're interested.”

Sadie texted,
Caleb is laughing his ass off. All the Friars think you're awesome and want to meet you. How's Mike doing?

Now that was something she refused to answer.

Even Crush Taylor texted her, with a permanent job offer and a raise. She didn't answer that either, because she couldn't face the thought of going to the stadium every day, where she'd have to see Mike Solo, the jerk who'd toyed with her emotions and ripped her heart out.

Mike called too, but she refused to listen to those messages. Hey, a girl had to give her broken heart some space. Now that she saw the whole picture with Mike—­that if Angela wanted him back, it was just a matter of when—­she couldn't bear to hear his voice.

Luckily, the Hannigans had asked her if she would take Zack to dinner while they entertained a business colleague. Nothing gave her comfort like being with Zack. Even when she had to stop him from putting tortilla chips over his eyelids or dipping strings of cheese in his water glass, his goofy, oblivious presence made everything okay.