Over the Fence: Lyssa Layne's Baseball Romances (12 page)

I watch him walk through the metal detector, afraid to turn around and face the crowd of people calling my name. Jace doesn’t turn and wave, but I still stand there watching, not ready for the chaos behind me. I take a deep breath and start to face the inevitable walk back outside when I feel a calloused hand take mine.

“Come on, let’s get you out of here.”

I try to hide my smile as his protective arm drapes around me and holds me tightly. I’ve missed this familiar place between Grant’s taut torso and strong arm. Of course, the paparazzi is going nuts, screaming at both of us, but Grant ignores them. He guides me to his Escalade, which is parked outside, and helps me in. He slams his door shut and puts the car in drive.

“What are you doing here?”

He shifts his eyes over at me then back to the road. “I just flew back from Florida and saw all the commotion. Some lady told me it was Richards and his new girlfriend.”

My cheeks turn bright red and I start to apologize but Grant stops me. “It’s fine, Colie.”

Neither of us speak. I start to fidget with my charm bracelet. The gray in his hair is highlighted by the sun, making him look even sexier than normal.

Softly, I whisper, “Thank you for the charm.”

Grant looks at my bracelet and nods as the SUV comes to a stop. I glance out the window and realize he’s pulling into the parking lot at the stadium. Parking the car, he turns to me and I see the same sadness in his eyes that I feel.

“Can we just have things the way they were before?” I ask.

Grant hesitates before he nods. “I’d like that.”

I lean across the car and wrap my arms around him while he does the same to me. We hang onto the embrace just a second longer than we should. Startled by someone pounding on the hood, we both jump. Benny grins at us and it’s time to get to work.

CHAPTER 13

“It seems as though Aces trainer, Nicole Adger, has finally tamed the Diplomats’ playboy pitcher Jace Richards. The couple has been seen throughout the country, spending every free moment they have together. Washington Diplomats’ manager, Tommy Decklin says he’s seen an improvement in Richards’ pitching now that he’s in a committed relationship and not out partying every night. Aces pitcher, and Adger’s ex, Grant Adamson, has yet to comment on the relationship.”

Yawning, I lay on my couch as Meg reads the latest gossip column over the phone.

“So what does Grant say about all this?”

I play with the fringe on the throw pillow. There are twenty-eight throw pillows between Jace’s living room and two bedrooms. I never had a single one at my old apartment. “Not much, Meg. He isn’t my ex either.”

She lets out a snort and I can picture her nose turning up. “Look, little sister, I know you’ve had feelings for Jace since college and it’s great that you two have finally crossed paths again, but…”

The big but again. Meg is notorious for her buts.
That dress looks good but...I really liked the chicken but...
So here we go again. Of course she can’t just be happy for me. It’s beyond frustrating.

“...I really think Grant was good for you. Jace has you flying all over the country on your days off, staying out late, and he’s got you holed up in that fancy loft of his where I can barely even get through security.”

I know she can’t see me, but I still roll my eyes at my overdramatic sister. “Meg, Grant and I were always just friends. We kissed a few times and that was it so get that through your mind. Jace and I have a lot of making up to do for lost time. I don’t have any commitments other than my job, so if I want to spend every day I have off flying to D.C., L.A., or St. Louis then I will. And you know you’re more than welcome over here. I gave your name and Mark’s to the doorman, so stop being dramatic.”

I hear Meg take a deep breath and I know she’s about to give me the full opinion she’s been holding back ever since spring training. Honestly, I’m too exhausted to even listen to her. My phone beeps that I have another call coming through. I look down and see it’s Jace then glance at the clock.

Noon, his game starts in an hour and he’s calling me for some sexual relief. It’s pretty pathetic that I’m dating one of the hottest pitchers in Major League Baseball and we have more phone sex than actual sex. My vibrator has seen more action in the past two months than when I was single. I ignore the call, letting Meg vent on.

“And, Colie, who knows how many women he’s sleeping with? You’d better be using protection. I don’t want you to get anything from him, or even worse, ending up pregnant!”

I haven’t told my sister there’s no way I could get pregnant. I’m still trying to come to terms about not having kids before I drop that on her. Besides, that’s
if
we ever talk marriage, which we’re not. My phone beeps to show me Jace is still trying to get ahold of me. I finally cut her off. “Meg, this is my life. Like the article said, Jace isn’t a playboy any more. It’s just him and me, okay? Give him a chance. I’ll call you later.”

She’s still protesting when I hang up. The phone immediately rings. I answer but before I can say hello, I hear Jace. “Dammit, Nikki, why didn’t you answer your phone sooner? I need you.”

I’ve come to realize Jace is more than a little impatient. When he wants something, he wants it right away. “Sorry, babe. You know our game went into extra innings last night. I didn’t get home until three and I slept in. I’m going to catch a later flight to D.C. today.”

“Nikki, you know I need…relief before games. That’s why I like you here. Fuck, Colie...”

I hear a bang in the background and I can tell he’s not happy. He never is when he calls me Colie. As romantic as Jace can be, I sometimes feel like I’m a sex toy to him too. I rub my forehead. There’s no point arguing with him right now when he’s in this frame of mind. I grab my vibrator and turn it on holding it close to the phone. “Hear that, baby? I’m about to…”

If the training thing doesn’t work out, I could have a career as a sex operator.

***

It’s almost midnight by the time I get to D.C. and am walking into Jace’s loft. I can hear music bumping before I even get to the door. I’m not surprised. He pulled off a major win today and the Diplomats took the lead in the division with the Aces only a half-game behind.

When I open the door, his place is filled with people. I set my bag by the door and squeeze through the crowd, trying to find him. I texted him a few times after I landed, but he didn’t respond. Walking into the living room, my stomach drops and my heart races.

Jace and some redhead are dancing, no grinding against each other. His hands roam over her body as she sucks on his neck. I quickly turn, wanting to get out of there before he sees me. I’m almost to the front door when I feel a thick hand around my arm. Spinning around, I see a huge brute. His name is Tosh and he’s part of Jace’s security detail. He’s over twice my size and his bald head is more than intimidating.

“Good evening, Miss Adger.”

I nod, trying to shrug him off, but his grip only gets tighter.

“Come with me. I’ll let Mr. Richards know you’ve arrived.”

He drags me through the crowd, carrying my bag in one hand and increasing his grip on my arm with the other. We get to Jace’s bedroom and he closes the door. Sighing, I stare out the window at the lighted Washington Monument. Thoughts rush through my head, but before I can collect them, smooth, manicured man hands encircle my waist and pull me against their owner. Jace nibbles on my neck and I can still smell the jasmine from the redhead’s perfume lingering on him.

“Hey, baby. Glad you finally made it.”

I close my eyes, turned on yet wanting out of his touch at the same time. Meg’s question runs through my mind. Abruptly, I turn around and put my hands on his chest, pushing him back a few inches. I narrow my eyes and ask, “Who else are you sleeping with?”

Anger briefly flashes across his face, but he doesn’t say anything as his hands slip under my tank top, lifting it over my chest. He pulls my strapless bra down and fondles my breasts. I open my mouth to ask again when he squeezes my nipples both painfully and at the same time erotically.

Leaning forward, his mouth finds mine. Our tongues slip and slide together. He sucks on my bottom lip and despite the image I just saw, I kiss him back.

Guiding us to the bed, in one swift movement, he spins me around. Fumbling, his hands undo my jeans and slides them along with my panties to my knees. I try to glance over my shoulder at him but he pushes my head forward into the bed. In one thrust, his bare cock enters me and I let out a loud moan. He pulls my hair with one hand, the other rests on the bed for leverage. He grunts and pumps quickly, hitting me in the perfect spot over and over and over…

Laying beneath him, I can’t see anything, but I can feel every inch of him. Small currents of electricity start with each thrust and travel throughout my body. His erection throbs and gets bigger deep inside me. His warm, alcohol scented breath is hot on my shoulder. Beads of his sweat fall on my back; my own form on my forehead. The bed bouncing beneath us and I’m surprisingly totally into this dominant-submissive play. With a final thrust, his climax fills me with warmth.

As he finishes, he pulls out and rolls me over to my back. He lifts me up and drops me on the middle of the bed. Sweat rolls down my neck, as I watch him closely. Mixed emotions of angst and overwhelming arousal flood my mind. He tucks himself back into his jeans and finally answers my question.

“Colie, I just fucked you without a condom so there’s your answer to who else I’m sleeping with. There’s a red dress hanging in the closet. Put it on and come out to the party.” He pinches both of my nipples and I yelp. With a small grin, he adds, “Don’t ever question my loyalty again.”

The door slams behind him as I lay on the bed, chest heaving, jeans around my knees, tank top above my breasts. I squeeze my eyes shut and ask myself,
Did that really just happen?
Fear and excitement wash over me as I recall what just unfolded. Shuddering, I sit up and pull off my tank top and jeans.

I can barely walk across the room, my legs are so unstable. Flipping on the light, I step into the closet and see Jace has a whole section of women’s clothes. I want to believe he bought them for me, but a feeling deep down makes me think it’s for all the women who frequent his place.

With shaking hands, I take the red dress off the hanger and drop it over my head. Adjusting it and looking in the mirror, my gut feeling that the dress was meant for another woman takes over me. The spandex material is way too tight, so either it’s someone else’s or he’s wanting me to look into being a call girl as well as a sex operator.

***

Leaning my head against the cool glass in the taxi, I try to forget about last night. It only went downhill after I joined the party in my barely there dress. Jace kept drinking, so when the party died down and he took me back to his bedroom, it was a marathon sex session, and not in a good way. When I woke up this morning, my legs were so sore I could barely walk and Jace couldn’t remember anything that happened, including my arrival. Once we were both able to function, he took me out to see the historic sites of our nation’s capital. Of course, the paparazzi followed us the entire day, right up until the grand goodbye kiss at the airport. 

It was the first time I’ve ever seen this side of Jace. Drunk, demanding, almost scary. The old Jace I knew wasn’t like that. I’d never seen him drink a sip of alcohol when we were in college. In fact, he was always my designated driver and kept the frat boys’ paws away from me. I’m sure it was just the stress of the day which caused him to go overboard with the drinking. He’d never hurt me, at least that’s what I keep telling myself.

“Alright, ma’am, here you are,” the taxi driver says.

I glance out the window at the loft building. I don’t want to be here. I want to be in my own cozy, homey apartment, but there’s nothing there for me to go back to. I can’t go to my sister’s. There’s no way in
hell
I’ll ever tell her about last night.

Twenty minutes later, I pay the cab driver and knock timidly on the door. My back is to the house as I look around, trying to distract myself.
What am I thinking? I shouldn’t have come here.
The door opens and I spin around. Grant looks surprised to see me as he stands there in jeans and a cotton V-neck shirt. I chew on my bottom lip, unable to speak.

“Colie? Are you okay?”

My head barely moves as I nod. Grant reaches for my hand and pulls me inside, closing the door behind him. We stand in the foyer just staring at each other. He doesn’t let go of my hand and he rubs his thumb over the back of it.

Forcing a smile and swallowing the lump in my throat, I say, “I thought I could make you those chocolate chip cookies you like.”

Grant’s frown turns into a small smile. He pulls me to him, giving me a small hug. “That sounds great.”