Baseball Star Edition (The Seduction Game, #2) (2 page)

Sarah does not respond, she simply gazes at me with
those jade
eyes,
one eyebrow raised, and then slides
her drink in my direction.
 

“Fine,” I concede. “This is somehow more fun.”

“What’s more fun?” A baritone voice asks from behind
me. I turn to see who has interrupted our private conversation, my eyes glance
up and my lungs cease to work. Standing in front of me, in a light blue button
down shirt and dark jeans is my gorgeous baseball star.
 

Everything about this man reminds me of a work of
carved stone, except maybe his eyes. They are a soft brown, lightly dusted with
flecks of gold.
I must think of something
to say here.

“That is a woman’s secret,” Sarah helps and then
casually turns toward the bar.

“Alright then, be mysterious, but can I buy you a
drink? I believe I at least owe you that for booting you out of the game so
quickly.”

“I’ve had plenty already, but thank you. You could
give us your company instead, if you’d like.”
I don’t want to
get drunk
,
I need my wits
. Two during the game,
and the last of Sarah’s drink is enough for me.

“I’d love to, I have a few interviews I need to do,
but until then I’m all yours.” He leans in, and in a hushed voice continues,
“Anyway you want.”

I’m pretty sure my heart skips a beat, but I work to
control my outward calm demeanor. “Well that’s rather forward of you.”
My lips purse in a playful grin.

“I’m sorry, you’re just so beautiful,” his fingertips
touch my hip and he moves closer, licking his lips. My body tenses in anticipation.
 

“I liked it.” I murmur.

He smiles, exposing a set of bright white teeth.
“Hey, you look familiar, were you at the game yesterday?”

“We were,” My heart plummets, I thought he was going
to kiss me,
then
he changes the subject.

“I’m sorry you had to see that.” His head lowers in
mock shame. Just then, a reporter impatient for her story approaches and greets
my Baseball Star.

Attempt number
two foiled
. I’m pretty sure my face is as red as my dress, desire mixes
with anger over the interruption, and I don’t know what to do. So I just stand
there while the intruder begins her interview.

“So you placed third tonight, what does that mean for
your charity?”

“Well, the Children’s Literacy Program will get a
small donation. I wish I could have done more, and I will be matching the
events contribution, but my buddy A-Rod over there is a true supporter, coming
out to support his cause even though he’s suspended.”

The reporter’s head snaps around, eager for a
front-page story and my Baseball Star seizes the moment. His fingers entwine
with mine and he spins on his heels dashing through an employee’s only door.

My feet have to work double time to keep up with his
hurried pace. “A-Rod’s not here,” I say giggling as we rush through the hall.

“I know, but she doesn’t,” he winks at me.

It feels like we’re in a James Bond movie, any moment
the evil reporter is going to burst through one of the side doors and hold a
little field recorder to his head, demanding an interview.

I don’t ask where his place was because I didn’t
care. All that matters right now is getting out of this strapless bra and
seeing if his hands can work just as much magic on me, as he does with the
baseball.

One of the requirements of a perspective target is
that they have to be someone who is good with their hands. It’s been a fairly
successful rule in weeding out the good from the bad so far.

“My manager is going to be so mad. I promised him I’d
do a few interviews tonight, but screw him.” He places a gentle kiss on my hand
and my heart skips a beat.

Even his lips look hard and angular, they’re soft on
my hand.

I’m stopped dead in my tracks in front of a large
silver truck and my Baseball Star opens the door for me. Great, I get to clamor
up into this, in a short dress?
Men
.

The foot rail comes about midway to my calf, so I’m
forced to try ever so gracefully to hop into the cab of the truck without being
indecent. My Baseball Star, being the gentleman he is, offers his hand to help
me up and I graciously accept.

When I’m situated, he runs his hand over the exposed
skin on my thigh and I gasp. He gazes up at me, and a wide grin spreads across
his face and he raises his eyebrows and wiggles them at me before moving around
to the driver’s side and climbing in.

“Let’s get out of here,” his smile never waivers as
he brings the engine to life. “Yup, my manager is gonna kill me and it’s only
spring training.”

“Worth it,” I reply in a cheery voice.

“Definitely.” He lays a strong hand on my knee and
gives it a reassuring squeeze.
 

The ride starts rather
quiet,
the only sound is the top forties channel, playing music quietly in the
background. I won’t comment on his musical selection, maybe he turned it to
that station to impress me.

A song comes on that apparently he likes and his
fingers begin to tap and travel over my inner thigh in time with the tempo.
Gooseflesh prickles over my legs in an excited response and the hammering in my
chest drowns out the radio. If this song, and his teasing, doesn’t end soon I
may explode.

“Okay, you have to stop.” I gasp and place my hand
over his in an effort to still it.

“Why?” His head tilts questioning me, eyes still on
the road. Then I feel his hand slide under the hem of my dress and nails run
down and back up my leg roughly.

I hiss and bite my lip. “Because, I can do this.”
With his hand still between my legs I lean over and lay a kiss on his neck.
There’s a few days’ worth of facial hair growth covering his jawline, it feels
rough and wonderful scratching against my face.

“Nope, not buying it. What else you got?” He
encourages, and his fingers begin to trace the outline of my panties.

Patience is not one of my virtues and he is testing
what little I have. When I begin to nibble on his earlobe, he rubs his finger
over my panties. I dive into his neck, sucking and biting and nibbling on his
earlobe, anything to make him give me more. His hand freezes momentarily, and
then he pushes my lace panties out of the way and dips a finger inside of me.

While he works me into
a frenzy
,
I leave moist kisses down his neck, and across his collarbone before slowly
blowing back over the area. His fingers curl in response and cause me to let
out an audible moan.

If this car ride lasts much longer, I’m going to go
insane. My palm runs down the length of his body until I reach the bulge in his
pants. His hips lift in silent answer to my groping question.

I must know what he is packing inside of those jeans
right now. Slow and teasing, I unzip them and slide my hand inside. When I wrap
my fingers around him I’m shocked, he’s larger than average. My breathing picks
up and so does
his,
he also presses the gas pedal
further down accelerating.

“
Mmm
, when’s the last time
you fooled around in a car?” I murmur into his ear.

“While it’s moving? Hard . . . Hard to say,” he
grunts and places both hands on the steering wheel.
 

“Hard, indeed.” My head dips down and I take him in
my mouth.

“Oh God,” he whispers and grabs a fistful of my hair.
“I’m torn on whether to tell you we are almost there, or just park and let you
keep going,”

I’ve yet to kiss those lips that I’ve been
fantasizing about, but soon. Soon I will have all of him.

“I’m pretty sure we’d have more fun inside,” I
suggest. A little foreplay in his massive truck is one thing, but I don’t want
to spend my entire sexual escapade in it. I hope he was kidding.

He cuts the engine and takes my face in between his
large hands, crushing his lips to mine. The strength, yet softness in them is
intoxicating and I want nothing more than to consume them until I’m thoroughly
drunk.

He pulls away from the kiss and my body tingles in
anticipation. “Shall we?” he asks, and I nod a response.

As I step out of the truck, I take in the vastness of
the house for the first time. An enormous two-story stucco building stands in
front of me.

“It’s the team house, some of us stay here during
spring training.” He smiles at me and swoops down, picking me up and cradling
me in his arms.

“Hey dude,” a guy sitting on the couch greets my
Baseball Star when he walks inside.

“Hey, can’t talk,” he returns the other guys greeting
and I hear his keys hitting the wooden coffee table with a loud clink.

The room smells of Italian cooking, with a slight
hint of male. My stomach grumbles at the deliciousness of it all.

“There’s leftovers if you two get hungry, remember to
stay hydrated also,” the guy shouts after us as he carries me into his room and
closes the door.

Inside the dark room, he tosses me onto the
queen sized
bed and I slide back on the satin sheets. The
only light comes from the
street light
outside,
casting a shadowy orange glow in the room.

As my eyes adjust to the darkness I can see a
silhouette of him in front of the window, slowly unbuttoning his shirt, doing a
strip tease. My breathing catches in my chest as I watch. Large rounded
shoulders appear, followed by chiseled arms, the
street light
highlights his muscles.
 

I bite my lip, the anticipation killing me. The ghost
of a memory of his fingers inside of me still lingers, but I’m alone on the
bed, watching and waiting. My hand trails up my leg, in the same manner as his
did earlier and I begin to pleasure myself as he slides his jeans down over his
boxer briefs.
Damn that’s sexy.

In a flash, he is hovering over me in the bed. “I
didn’t say you could do that,” he commands and grabs my wrists pulling my hands
above my head.
  

***

Her silky hair that tickled my stomach, the scent of
flowers from whatever she is wearing, and her warm mouth sliding around my
cock, made me want to come in the car. Hell, I almost did, but I stopped her.
Delayed pleasure is the
Karma Sutra
way. It’s also the gentleman way, ladies first. But, I can taunt her with a
little strip tease first.
 

When she trailed her hand down the length of her
body, and back up her leg, playing with herself, my balls tightened. The glow
of the light outside highlighted her raven hair making her sexy as hell. I
needed to be inside of her now. I need to possess her like no one ever has
before.

“I didn’t say you could do that. If you try that
again I’ll have to restrain you.” The thought of her tied to my bed, helpless
to my every whim arouses me more than I thought possible.

Her chest heaved with every breath and she pressed
her body up against mine. “I don’t think you will,” she challenges me and pulls
her hand out of my grasp. I was only partially teasing, but she wants it. There
is a wicked smile on her face.

Next thing I know, long slender fingers were teasing
my balls. I looked down and saw her other hand back between her own legs, dress
hitched up around her hips. That was my job.

Her wrists are tiny enough for me to grab both in one
hand. I pin them over her head and thrust my hips down on her. “I told you that
you’d be punished if you tried that again,”

She thrusts her hip into mine eagerly, as she hisses
though her teeth.

“Then punish me,” She raises up to kiss me but I back
away. She doesn’t want to give up control, but she will. My hand slides down
her body and I pull her dress over her head. When I let go of her wrists she
instantly reaches to touch me.

“Bad girls must learn a lesson, no touching. Me, or
yourself.” I say retraining her hands again. “Damn, my belt is too far away,”

Her eyes grow wide and she stops gyrating her hips
against me. “Belt?”

“Guess I’ll just have to make due with what’s here,”
I grab ahold of her little black lace panties and give them a hard yank down
her legs.

“What are you doing?” she asks, but there is an
excitement in her voice. It rings though as I place her hands behind the
railing of my bed and tie them together with her panties.

“Teaching you patience,”

“But I need to—” her hips thrust upward but I
silence her, covering her mouth with my lips. She tastes of wine and sex. I
deepen the kiss and she sighs as her arms flex, bound behind her she is
struggling to hold still.

“Not yet,” I run my hands down her body. Using only
my fingertips I lightly trace the contours of her collarbone, down to her
breast, slipping her bra off as I go. Gooseflesh ripples under my light caress
and her pert little nipples grow hard as I flick them with my tongue.

Further down I travel, tracing the outline of each rib,
and across her stomach. She squirms under me, and the headboard creaks a strain
when I place my head between her legs.

***

“Please,” I beg. Not being able to reach out and grab
him, I’m forced to lay still. It heightens my awareness of him on top of me.
Every touch feels like an electric jolt through my body and into my core.

His fingers run over my body so gently but I am aware
of every ounce of contact they make. He’s still wearing his boxer briefs and
his ass sticks up in the air almost comically, when his head dips between my
legs. Baseball players always have the nicest
asses
.
His was no exception.

When his tongue makes contact with my sensitive skin
I lose it. My hands ache to touch something and my body aches for him. “Yes, oh
yes,” I cry out and pull on my restraints. He’s made a decent knot though.