Worth the Trade (More Than A Game) (13 page)

She collapsed on top of him, still thrumming in pure satisfaction. But he wasn’t finished yet. His breath quickened, and he thrust again. His whole body tensed and then she could feel his release deep inside her. He relaxed beneath her, his heart beating steady and strong. He wrapped his arms around her, gently stroking her back. Not letting her go.

“Don’t move.” Marco held her in place. His voice sexy. Commanding. “Ever.”

“Ever?” She’d never had a lover who made her feel so desired. So cherished. So tempted to see just how many days they could go without ever leaving the bed.

“I could stay with you like this forever.” Marco’s voice softened into a contented sigh.

“I think eventually we would need food. Water. Maybe a shower.” She snuggled tighter against his chest, secure in the bliss of the moment, wishing that it could go on forever. “One cannot live by sex alone.”

“No. But two of us can.” Marco ran his fingers through her hair. “Oh, Hunter. You are so lovely. I don’t think I can tear myself away from you.”

“Well, you do have a game tonight,” she reminded him. “I need you on the field.”

“You’re the boss.” Marco’s relaxed manner disappeared in an instant. “And I guess this is just a side job, huh?”

He chuckled, moving away from her, the magic gone.

“Would you mind if I took a shower? Maybe you could call me a cab and I’ll be out of your hair.” He eased to the edge of the bed, swung his legs around, and sat up, his back toward her.

“Go ahead and get in the shower. But I can drive you home.” Hunter tried not to feel the sting of his sudden change of mood. “I’ll even make breakfast.”

“I think I should take a cab. If someone sees your car in front of my apartment, it might look suspicious.”

“Yes. I suppose we should keep this discreet.”

“Discreet would be good.” He raked his hand through his hair. “I don’t think it would do either of us any good if people find out we are sleeping together.”

“Right.” Hunter felt a small glimmer of hope at his choice of “are” instead of “were.”

“Look, Hunter…” He turned around, his eyes stormy with emotion. Uncertainty. “I don’t know what I’m doing here.”

“It’s just sex,” she lied. “A way to loosen you up. You had a great game last night. If sleeping with me helps, then great. We can keep this going.”

“So if I have a good game tonight, you’ll invite me back into your bed?” Marco made a show of searching the floor for his clothes. Acting like it was no big deal one way or the other. “But if I go O for four?”

“You won’t. I know you’ll have a great night.” She hoped. Because, yeah, she wanted to invite him back to her bed. She didn’t have any idea what she was doing here, either. But she didn’t want to stop until she figured it out.

“I’m going to hit the shower.” Marco carried his clothes with him to her bathroom. She watched him walk away, admiring his sexy backside. Damn, she was so tempted to follow him into the shower. But maybe they both needed a little space, before he ended up on the disabled list.

Or she ended up falling in love with him.

Chapter 8

Marco and the Goliaths finished the home stand with four straight wins. He ended up going nine for seventeen, with four home runs, two doubles, a triple and eleven RBI’s. He was on one hell of a hot streak. And as every ballplayer knows, you don’t mess with a winning streak.

Hunter knew it too, because she made sure he followed his nightly ritual. Sometimes at her place. Sometimes at his. Either way, they barely made it through the front door before tearing each other’s clothes off.

She wore the lingerie he’d sent her. That was part of the ritual too. He entered the game knowing exactly what color underwear she wore under her gray suits. She sat in her usual spot, scorebook in her lap. To the forty thousand people surrounding her, nothing had changed. Only Marco noticed the slight transformation taking place behind home plate.

It started with her hair. She wore it looser, softer, still pulled back and up, but instead of a severe bun she had it in a soft twist with a few loose strands tickling the sides of her neck. She kept up her professional image, until he got her behind closed doors. He had mastered the art of kissing her senseless while letting her hair down.

Hunter had also added a hint of color to her wardrobe. Tonight she wore a soft, pink blouse. Over a red-hot bustier if she wore today’s special delivery. Her cheeks were rosier, and when he dared glance in her direction, she looked happier, more relaxed than when they’d first met.

She came into the clubhouse after the game, like she did after every game. She congratulated several of the players and gave him a silent signal as to where their postgame action would take place. A tap on the shoulder meant she would meet him at his place. A firm handshake signaled she would drive them both to her house.

Tonight, he wasn’t surprised to get a pat on the shoulder. Marco and the team would fly out in the morning to San Diego before continuing on to L.A. He’d already packed, but he was glad he would be able to leave directly from his apartment.

Marco hurried home. At least he didn’t have to make excuses for not hanging with the guys. He’d have plenty of time for after-hours socializing on the upcoming road trip. Too much time.

But tonight? Tonight was for Hunter. She’d been his good luck charm and he wanted to take as much of that luck with him as possible.

Who was he kidding? It wasn’t about luck. Not just about luck, anyway. He tried to back off when he felt like they were getting too hot, too fast. But baseball players were a superstitious breed. When things were going good, they kept up the routine. If it meant wearing the same socks or not shaving or eating a certain pregame meal, it was important to stick with the ritual. Marco didn’t have lucky underwear—unless he counted the lingerie he bought for Hunter—but he had been getting lucky both on and off the field.

Neither one of them wanted to end the winning streak.

And they both insisted that it was just that. Good baseball and even better sex. The two were intertwined. By an unspoken agreement, they would keep up the ritual until it stopped working. Personally. Professionally. Marco wasn’t about to let something as complicated as emotions interfere with a good thing.

“Good game.” Hunter was waiting for him in the lobby. She had a parking pass, but he was afraid he’d jinx it if he gave her a key to his apartment. “I knew you had it in you.”

“Yeah. I guess I just needed to find my groove.” Marco hit the call button for the elevator. They were both playing a game, trying to keep it casual, trying to keep their affair a secret. So far, no one had confronted him, but that didn’t mean they hadn’t caught on.

As soon as they were alone inside the elevator, Hunter slipped her arms around his waist. She rose on her tiptoes, demanding a kiss.

Marco was more than willing to give it to her. He would give her everything he had, on the field and in her bed.

The chime warned them the doors would open, and they broke apart. No one was on the other side, but they couldn’t be too careful.

Marco led her silently to his apartment door. He slid the key into the lock and tugged her inside. He kicked the door closed, flipping the deadbolt and dragging Hunter back to his bedroom. The ritual remained: clothes falling by the wayside, blankets thrown from the bed, thirty seconds of admiring her lingerie before discarding the satin and lace along with the wool pantsuits and patent leather pumps.

“God, you’re beautiful.” Marco marveled at just how good it was. Making love to Hunter was like nothing he’d experienced before. “More beautiful than anyone I’ve ever known.”

“Stop it.” She laughed, the sound going straight to his chest. “We both know that’s not true.”

“What do you mean?” He lifted his head off her chest, looking into her deep brown eyes. “You are beautiful.”

Only the word was too small to really describe what he meant.

“Please. How many supermodels have you been with?” She turned her head, breaking eye contact.

“What does that have to do with anything?” Deep down Marco had always known that someday his years of playing the field would come back to bite him in the ass. “So I dated a few models. But they weren’t real.”

Shit. That made him sound like a superficial jerk.

“No? They didn’t have feelings? Or dreams? Or insecurities?” God, he loved when she got passionate about something. Even if it was pointing out that he’d been a first class shallow ass.

“Oh, they had plenty of insecurities,” Marco acknowledged. “But I guess that’s what all the makeup and clothes and airbrushing was for.”

“So they could fulfil your fantasy?”

“No.” Marco cupped her cheek. “You’re my fantasy.”

And his obsession.

“Marco. Please.” She blushed, unable to accept the compliment.

“Come with me to San Diego,” he pleaded. “I need you. To keep the streak going.”

“You’ll be fine.” She reached up and stroked his hair. “Believe it or not, I didn’t bring you here for my personal pleasure.”

“No?” He didn’t like the reminder that she owned him professionally.

“I know you can be a five tool player.” She propped herself up on one elbow. “You’ve got speed, power, a good glove. You can hit for average. And you’ve got one hell of an arm.”

“Not to mention good hands.” Now it was his turn to not take a compliment for what it was.

“Very good hands.” Hunter blushed. “But the point I was trying to make is that I wanted you because of what you bring to the team. Not what you can do for me…or to me.”

“That’s just a bonus?” Marco kept trying to tell himself that this was just about getting lucky. The sex happened to coincide with the winning streak so they would keep it going. But he wondered what would end first. The lucky streak or the relationship?

“Yeah, a bonus.” She rolled over on her back and closed her eyes. Playtime was over for now. He knew he would eventually lose. He’d even walk away from the game someday. But he didn’t like the thought of someday walking away from Hunter.

* * * *

Hunter made herself at home in Marco’s kitchen. She whipped up a quick breakfast before he had to leave for the airport. She wasn’t too worried he’d think she was trying to get too domestic on him. He had no trouble washing her dishes or flipping burgers on her grill, so there was a good chance he’d think that an omelet was just an omelet.

“Mmm. Smells delicious.” Marco snuck up on her, wrapping his arms around her waist. “And you made breakfast, too.”

“Yes. I was hungry.” She leaned into him, savoring the little kisses he placed on her neck and shoulder. “And I figured I might as well make enough for two.”

“Come to San Diego with me,” he murmured, sending chills down her spine. “Please.”

The need in his voice would have been a lot more flattering if she knew it had more to do with him wanting her rather than wanting to keep his hitting streak going.

“You’ll be fine without me.” Hunter moved from his grasp, plating the omelets and crossing over to the fridge. She poured two glasses of orange juice and carried them to the table. Marco had already taken the dishes to the table, and set out the silverware and napkins.

“Maybe.” Marco held out her chair and waited for her to sit before taking the seat next to her. “But you should come down, just in case.”

“I have work to do. Besides, you’re in a groove. You’ve got your timing back, and more importantly, your confidence.”

“I’ve got confidence because of you.” He looked up at her with those impossible to resist blue eyes. So not fair. She needed this break from him. Six days on the road should be enough time to settle her emotions. To remind herself that this was just sex, nothing more.

She couldn’t afford to get her heart tangled up in this.

Especially since she had a bet to win. The division title. And if Marco kept playing like he had been these last few days, they could win it all.

She had to keep her goal in mind. She couldn’t just succumb to his every request. She was in charge here.

“Marco, you will go on this road trip with your teammates. You will continue to hit and hit well.”

“You’re the boss.” He smiled as he dug into the eggs.