Authors: Lori Wilde
“No, I'm not afraid of my feelings for you,” she said, and crossed her fingers before she sat on her hands.
“Yes, yes you are. And if you like me too much, that means you're having feelings for me, and you hate having feelings.”
“You're right about the last part,” she conceded, grabbing for her drink and taking a long pull on her straw.
“I'm right about the first part too.”
“Or you're just supremely full of yourself. Believe it or not, some people are not impressed with star baseball pitchers.”
“These are the same people who find charming exhausting?” He leaned back in his chair, but kept his knees locked around hers. He lowered his lashes and studied her without speaking for so long that Kasha started to squirm.
“No, different crowd.” She picked up a sugar shaker, took the top off her drink, poured the sugar in, and stirred it up with her straw, more for something to do than because her drink wasn't sweet enough. “Although there might be a few in both camps.”
“Which camp are you in?”
“The I-don't-much-give-a-damn camp.”
“Ah,” he said. “The Rhett Butler defense. Some
one gets under your skin, and rather than deal with it, you pretend you don't care.”
“Is it working?” She slid a glance at him.
“Not so much.”
She took a drink. Made a face. “Ugh.”
“You just put salt in your drink.”
“So I see.”
“Me too.”
“You put salt in your coffee?”
“No, I see that you're trying to hide just how much you're attracted to me. That kiss at the lake meant something to me, and I think it meant something to you too. Otherwise why let it chase you off?”
“I'm not doing this.” She folded her arms over her chest.
“Then why did you come for coffee?”
“I needed a jolt of caffeine.”
“You keep lying like that and that gorgeous nose of yours is going to grow into an elephant trunk. You want another iced coffee?” He nodded at her salty drink.
“I'm good,” she said.
“Yes you are,” he agreed and then kissed her right there in the coffee shop.
She didn't resist even though she was fully aware of the eyes trained on them, knowing this was going to be all over town by nightfall.
Kasha didn't care anymore. She was a grown woman, not that far off from thirty-one. She no longer worked for the Gunslingers. He was no longer her client. There was nothing standing in the way of her taking him as a lover if that's what she wanted.
Kasha kissed him back, spearing her fingers through his hair, cupped her palms around his ears,
realizing he was doing the exact same thing to her. Pinning her to the chair, holding her in place as he leaned across the table to drink her in. He tasted of coffee, rich and potent, and she couldn't get enough.
He kissed her shoulder and then her neck. What a miracle it was to be here with him. To be with this man, feel the brand of his mouth upon her skin. He pulled back to study her and she looked up into his face, and she was suddenly struck by who he was. One of the top baseball pitchers in the country, and he was kissing
her
.
“Oh my,” she whispered.
“What is it?” His warm breath feathered the hairs along her temple.
“Nothing.” She ducked her head.
Everything.
He titled her face up to him, kissed her again. “Tell me.”
“You're
the
Axel Richmond.”
“So?”
“It's a lot of pressure being with someone like you. Expectations. I don't want to disappoint.”
“You won't.”
He dragged her upward until she was on her feet and bent across the table the same way he was, the two of them meeting in the middle, the infernal table between them preventing full body contact and she thought,
Where can we go from here?
But his mouth was so blistering hot she stopped thinking at all.
The coffee shop burst into applause and Axel said, “You wanna get out of here?” and Kasha murmured, “Yes,” and the next thing she knew they were in his sporty BMW speeding toward Rowdy's ranch.
I
t took a full ten minutes to get up that hill. There was time to come to her senses. Time to back out. Plenty of time to change her mind.
But Kasha did not change her mind.
Axel stopped the car in the middle of the driveway, killed the engine, and hopped out to come around to her side to open the door, but she was already out, flinging herself into his arms.
He spun her around and crushed her mouth with his and she was dizzy and breathless and crazy.
Breathe.
She tried, but her lungs refused to cooperate. They pumped wildly, her chest moving up and down, but no air exchanged. Somehow, her top was unbuttoned and so was his shirt and they were both rumpled, lips glistening from the wet heat of their kisses, and he looked as bushwhacked as she felt.
“Bed,” he gasped.
“Bed?” She blinked as if it was a foreign word, her mind so soaked with sensation she couldn't think.
“Do you want bed . . .” He grunted like a caveman and glanced down at the terrazzo entryway. She followed where his gaze went, and shivered a little. “Or floor?”
“The Creedys?” While the groundskeeper and his wife had their own cottage several acres away, they could show up at the ranch house anytime.
“Right.” He nodded vigorously. “Bed.”
“Bed,” she echoed.
He grabbed her hand and dragged her up the stairs behind him, her heart a jackhammer in her chest, slamming against her rib cage.
“Wait,” she said outside the door of the guest bedroom where he was staying.
“What?” His voice came out rough and strangled.
“Condoms.”
He patted his back pocket. “Been carrying them around with me since the day we met.”
“Cocky bastard.” She grinned.
“Aren't you glad?” he growled.
“Yes,” she admitted as he sank his mouth on hers again and waltzed her into the bedroom.
“Wait.” She splayed a palm over his chest.
“What?” He groaned, shallow and reedy, as if there were no oxygen left in the room.
“We need to talk.”
He groaned again, deeper and full of frustration. “What about?”
“You. Me. Us.”
“What about us?”
“What this means.”
He chuffed, exasperated, and jammed fingers through his mussed hair. “What do you want it to mean?”
“What do you want it to mean?”
Stalling out, his hand dropped to his side. “No matter what I say, I'm going to get my butt in a crack.”
“I'm not in a place for a relationship. Not while I'm in the process of getting custody of Emma, and introducing her into my life.”
“Okay, I can live with that.” He nodded, but his lips tightened and thinned as if he disagreed.
“Really?”
“I'll take what I can get.”
“That's it?”
He paused again, looked confused, asked in a hopeful voice, “You want more? 'Causeâ”
“No,” she lied, because she wanted so very much more that it terrified her.
“So casual. Just this one time?” he asked, and she felt slightly sick to her stomach. He paused, looked her squarely in the eyes. “You sure that's what you want?”
“You're talking too muâ” She didn't get to finish the last word because he lowered his head, lowered his eyes, grabbed hold of her, and pulled her up flush against his chest.
He eased his knee between hers, parting her legs, cupped her face with both hands, and kissed herâhotly, wetly, thoroughly.
Their body heat mingled and she melted into him. His hands slipped from her face to her shoulders and then ambled on down to cradle her breasts, and she thought,
The sexiest pitcher in major league ball is groping me
, and she chuckled against his lips.
“What's so funny?” he asked.
She slipped her arms around her waist, and opened her eyes, peeked up at him. It was great to be with a guy who was taller than she was. He made her feel petite and über-feminine. “You. Me. This.”
“That's funny?”
“Far-fetched.”
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why do you find the idea of us being together far-fetched?”
She opened her mouth, realized she didn't have a good answer, and shut it again. “Are you going to stand here talking all night or take me to bed?”
He thought about that for all of two seconds. “Bed.”
“Good man.”
“Good ain't the half of it, sweetheart. Just you wait and see.” His grin went wicked, and before she knew what was happening, he bent and scooped her into his arms.
“Put me down!” she exclaimed. “I'm too big for you to be carrying. You'll hurt your shoulder!”
“It's already hurt.”
“Axel!” She didn't try to fight because she might throw him off balance and cause more problems. “Put me down!”
“I hate having limitations,” he growled.
“Tough. You're not Superman. Deal with it.”
Grudgingly, he lowered her to the floor.
“Thank you.” She straightened.
He took her hand and led her into the bedroom, Kasha's heart skipped. She could still leave. There was time. No line had been crossed.
But then he turned back and looked at her so sweetly that every last bit of fear drained away, and she knew she would follow this man anywhere.
H
e'd agreed to a one-night stand simply to get her into bed, but Axel wanted so much more. This wasn't just about sex. Not by a long shot.
But he'd have to think about that later. Right now he had a lush, sexy woman in his arms, and he wasn't about to blow it.
“I can't wait to peel those yoga pants off you,” he whispered.
“What are you waiting for?” She fluttered her eyelashes in a coy gesture that was very un-Kasha-like.
“I just want to look at you for a moment.” He
stepped back, raised his hands like he was framing a camera shot. “Store it in my memory.”
She was so beautiful. Her sloe-eyes dark and mysterious, her hair caught up in a high ponytail showing off her exquisite bone structure, her impossibly perfect ears, her straight regal nose, her full lips moist and inviting, her white bra visible beneath her unbuttoned shirt.
“Want me to get my cell phone?” she teased.
“Nope. This moment is private, and all mine.”
The Sphinx cracked a big grin, and
boom,
she was no longer the Sphinx. Her smile caught him low in the belly, spread pressure and heat straight to his groin.
Axel felt dizzy and weak-kneed and over-the-moon in love with her. He shook his head to clear it, but nothing doing. He was in so deep he knew there was no getting out of this unscathed.
Moreover, he didn't care.
She shrugged the shirt down one shoulder, slanted him a sultry gaze that tightened every masculine muscle in his body. Slowly, she slid it off the other shoulder, let the shirt drift to the floor.
Taking in her lithe, muscular body with ample curves in all the right places, his eyes almost bugged out of his head.
And when she turned her back to him, and unlatched her bra, he was salivating.
The bra joined the shirt on the floor, and when she turned back to face him, and unveiled those perfect breasts, he almost cried out in painful joy. He felt as if he'd waited his whole lifetime for this moment.
This woman.
“Kasha.” He breathed her name and let the sound fill his lungs, his heart, his blood, until every cell throbbed with vibration.
Kasha. Kasha. Kasha.
“Well?” One elegant eyebrow went up on her forehead.
Speechless. He was speechless. Struck dumb by her beauty.
“Are you going to stand there staring all night, or make your pitch, player?” Heat and affection for him danced in her eyes, and he laughed because being with her felt so damn good.
“I'm so glad you quit,” he said. “I thought this was never going to happen.”
“It still shouldn't be happening,” she said. “But you're hot, and I'm weak.”
“Thank God for that.” His palms itched to cup the weight of her breasts.
“You better make a move before I back out,” she threatened, sinking her hands on her hips.
He sobered. “I don't want you to do anything you'll regret, Kasha.”
“I'm regretting that it's taking you so long to get to it.” She eased the waistband of her yoga pants down over her hips, giving him a glimpse of a pair of white thong panties, leaning over in a sexy little backbend that showed off her tiny waist and curvy rump.
“Actually . . .” He ogled her, admiring how the Lycra fit her like a second skin. “I was thinking I should hop in right about now and finish shucking off those pants for you. Although it does look like they've been spray-painted on.”
Kasha folded the waistband down another turn, wriggling her hips. “Easy as peel-and-eat shrimp.”
“Mmm,” he said. “You're making me hungry, and not for seafood.”
“Me too,” she murmured, soft as silk.
“I like the taste of salty, earthy things. Oysters . . .”
He let his gaze drift to the sweet V between her legs, and was rewarded when she shivered.
“Oh yeah.” Her voice was husky, wet.
He closed the space between them until they were almost touching, breasts to chest. And her heart was pounding so hard he could see her pulse beating at the hollow of her throat. “I've been fantasizing about this from the moment we first met. I can't think of anything but you.”
“That sounds limiting.”
“Not at all. In my daydreams we're always doing the most adventuresome things.” He lowered his head until he could feel her breath on his cheek, and he stopped just millimeters short of her lips.
“I hope I don't disappoint, since you've built this up so much in your head.”
“You could never disappoint me.”
“You say that now . . .”
“It's gonna be great.” He wrapped his arms around her back and pulled her up flush against him. She let out a soft little sound of surrender that unraveled him on several different levels.
Her body was so hot beneath his palms and he thought,
I'm not going to last five minutes.
She kissed him. Tentative. Quick.
Axel groaned and captured her lips, not going to let her get away with drive-by kissing. No sir. “All or nothing, babe,” he said, and speared her with his tongue.
She inhaled sharply, those grapefruit breasts rising fast and hard against him. He closed his eyes, struggled for control, instinct urging him to toss her on the bed and slide right into her warm wetness.
Easy does it. Slow and steady wins the race.
She kissed him back, hot and sweet, and he opened his eyes to find her staring at him.
“Christ, I want you,” he whispered against her mouth, a teasing tickle of sensation moving across his upper lip. “I wanted you the minute you strolled into the Gunslingers locker room looking all mysterious and mystical. I wanted you when I dragged you soaking wet from the swimming pool. I wanted you when you latched onto my waist on the Jet Ski. I wanted youâ”
“I want you too,” she cooed, her eyes ablaze with lust and need.
“It's more than that, Kasha. More than want. More than need. I . . .”
I love you
. How did he say it without scaring her?
“Don't,” she cautioned, placing an index finger over his lips. “Don't ruin the moment. Just be here with me now. Don't say anything else. Just take me. Do me. Make me feel good.”
Axel didn't need to be asked twice. He sank to his knees, and on his way down grabbed hold of the waistband of her yoga pants that hovered at her hips, and tugged, stripping them to her knees.
But a clear view of her scars stopped him. He'd caught glimpses of the scars when her shorts rode up when they were out on the lake, but seeing them now, seeing how she'd sliced herself when she was a teen because she was in so much emotional pain, cut him right in two.
She was trembling under his scrutiny, exposed, bare. Her hands threaded through his hair, her head dipped, her eyes closed, her breathing ragged and insubstantial. He cupped her buttocks in his palms, held her steady. Letting her know he was not repulsed.
One by one, he traced over each thin scar as if he
could salve her pain with his tongue, heal her past. A hundred and three of them in total, each one about half an inch long, and the width of a pocketknife blade, lined up in rows like soldiers. Fifty-two on one thigh, fifty-one on the other.
When he finished counting her sorrow of scars, he planted his face against her panties and breathed deeply.
Mine
, he thought greedily.
Mine.
But was she really? He wanted her. Was determined to woo her. Loved her. But how did she feel about him? She made it clear this was just fun. Could he really convince her to take a chance on him, or was he going to end up with a broken heart?
He didn't care. Loving her was worth the risk. Dylan had taught him that lesson. As painful as losing those you love might be, loving was always worth the shattered heart.
Axel squirmed, overwhelmed by need and desire and love and fear.
As if reading his mind, Kasha dropped to her knees and planted her lips on his chest, right on the tattoo of Dylan's name, and kissed away his scars the same way he kissed away hers.
And he knew that no matter what happened, one way or another everything was going to be okay.