Seasoned Veteran (2 page)

She sniffled. She didn’t care what Ashley had to do between now and her wedding, Siobhan was going to dump the big-assed binder back in her lap then get the hell out of Dodge. Dallas. Whatever. Her friend had meant well, she was sure of it, but no way was she spending another minute in Jake’s company, much less be glued to his side for the three weeks until the Crystal Ball.

No. Fucking. Way.

Her vocabulary had slipped a notch or two, she noted.

“Fuck you, Jake.”

It felt good to say what she felt without censoring herself.

She tried the words out again, louder. As the echo faded, it seemed to take some of the tension in her body with it. After repeating the phrase several more times, she began to feel more in control. Gathering her things, she descended to the bottom floor.

The stairwell opened to an inside lobby. To her right was a glass door leading to the parking lot where she’d left her car.

Perfect.

She climbed into the older, secondhand sedan she’d recently purchased so she wouldn’t be dependent on her brother, Ashley, or Bentley for transportation. If only she’d made the decision to buy a car sooner. Perhaps she never would have met Jake….

Chapter Two

Two months earlier. September 12th

Siobhan pressed the accelerator hard, speeding across the parking lot to the player entrance. The Mustangs’ game had been over for nearly an hour, which meant she was close to two hours late. Screeching to a stop in front of the two men conversing beneath a weak security lamp, she slammed the gearshift on the late-model SUV into Park then pushed her door open at the same time.

“I’m so sorry!” She climbed out of the driver’s seat. “I should have realized the traffic would be insane once the game was over. You should have seen the parking guy.” She rolled her eyes. “You would have thought I was trying to break you out of prison or something.”

Bentley Randolph, the car’s owner and her temporary landlord, laughed. “No problem. I had a few things to discuss with Jake.”

Relieved she wasn’t in hot water for her tardiness, she shifted her gaze to Bentley’s companion. He stood mostly in shadow, but she easily catalogued all the important things. He was tall, lean, and he knew how to dress—dark suit, white shirt. She guessed his tie picked up the color of his suit or possibly the hue of his eyes in its geometric pattern. Her overactive writer’s imagination filled in the missing details just as she would for one of her characters.

“Oh, did I interrupt?”

Jake-the-mystery-man stepped into the light, a set of car keys jiggling in one hand. “No. I was just waiting to make sure Bent had a ride before I left. Can’t have one of our star players hitchhiking home after a game.” His deep voice vibrated through her like the bass line of her favorite song. She shivered in the warm night air.
Oh, yum.

His tone indicated he wasn’t in the least put out by the wait. He turned to Bentley. “Please tell me this isn’t your fiancée.”

“No,” Bentley laughed. “This is Sean Flannery’s sister, Siobhan. She’s staying with me so she can be close enough to help her brother. She’s been using Sean’s car, but he’s driving himself around again. I let her borrow mine today on the condition she didn’t leave me sitting here without a ride home. Siobhan, this is Jake Tulleson, the Mustangs’ batting coach.”

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Tulleson.” She addressed her benefactor. “I’m really sorry, Bentley. I lost all track of time. I found some really interesting articles, though.” After her brother broke his hip falling into the dugout in pursuit of a fly ball, Bentley offered Sean the use of his pool house while he went through his physical therapy. Since the pool house only had one bedroom, he’d opened his house to her so she could remain close by to help. He and his fiancée had been incredibly generous—all the more reason her screw up tonight weighed on her conscience. The last thing she wanted was for either of them to think she was ungrateful.

“What kind of research?” Jake asked, moving around the hood of the car. The headlights briefly illuminated him, giving her more details to fill in—tanned skin, a firm, cleanly shaved jaw, a nice haircut. He moved like an athlete, though she didn’t remember hearing Sean speak of him. He paused near the front tire. His lips were full, his nose narrow. Thin lines fanned out from the corners of his eyes, giving him an air of maturity that piqued her interest. She’d about had her fill of boys masquerading as men.

“Um…I was looking up period dress for women in Texas during the Republic years, 1836-1846.”

He was close enough she could see the flecks of gray at his temples. His eyes were blue. As she suspected earlier, there were dots of the same color in his tie. The tiny lines, like parenthesis, bracketing his mouth, captivated her. She’d always been a sucker for well-placed punctuation.

“Fascinating.” His voice rumbled like distant thunder, vibrating through her all the way to her toes.

Siobhan had the oddest feeling he wasn’t referring to the research she was doing for her next series of romance novels.

“I think so, too.” She hoped he would hear in her words the same thing she’d heard in his. He was the most fascinating man she’d seen in…forever.

“Are you all done with your research?”

She shook her head. “No. I bought some books at the museum.”

“I’d love to see your books.”

The slight hesitation before he said that last word made her heart gallop. It must have run off with her good sense because she heard herself say, “I’d like to show you my books. When?”

“Now is good.” He moved around the open car door.

Siobhan looked at his outstretched hand then ducked back into the car to grab her purse and the bag from the museum. When she straightened, his hand still waited for hers. She placed her palm over his. Tiny pinpricks of electricity skittered up her arm, across her shoulder then down to her breasts. Her nipples tingled, forming tight buds.

Someone cleared his throat. Siobhan looked around to find Bentley watching them.

“Oh! Bentley. You don’t mind if I give you your car back right here, do you?”

He smiled. “Not at all. Jake will see you get home okay.”

It wasn’t a question, but a directive aimed at his batting coach.

“I’ll see no harm comes to Flannery’s little sister.” Jake pulled her away from Bentley’s SUV and toward the only other vehicle in the lot.

He opened the door for her, and she scooted into the expensive sports car. Even though it was well past sundown in mid-September, summer had yet to release its hold on North Texas. The interior was an oven. Adjusting her legs on the hot leather seat, Siobhan briefly wondered if she was being incredibly stupid to go off with a virtual stranger. When he opened the opposite door and folded himself into the driver’s seat, all doubt vanished.

He cranked the car before adjusting the climate control system. Cool air rushed from the dashboard vents, raising gooseflesh on her arms. Beneath the thin cotton sundress she’d put on that morning, her nipples stood to attention.

They sat in silence until Bentley’s SUV pulled out of the lot. Alone in the darkened car with a man she’d met less than five minutes earlier, she tried to find even a kernel of trepidation, but came up empty. Maybe it was the obvious age difference or the air of confidence surrounding him, but he made her feel safe—and horny. It had been a long time since she’d felt this kind of sexual attraction. Hell, she’d never experienced anything quite like this, as if she couldn’t wait to get naked with a man. Inexplicably, she knew Jake was the kind of man who would take his time with a woman, even if he hadn’t wasted a minute getting her into his car.

He remained silent until Bentley’s taillights were nothing more than pinpoints of light in the distance. “You know I don’t give a damn about the books in that bag.”

His deep voice stroked every taut string in her body, making her shiver with need. It had been way too long since she’d had sex, and she’d never been with a guy who oozed sex appeal the way Jake did. He was a man of few words, but every one sounded like a promise to her starved hormones.

“I never thought you did.” She dared to look at him. He was watching her. A thrill shot through her. In that super-charged instant, she was positive he saw more than what the sodium light over the player’s gate and the backlit dashboard could reveal. She felt exposed—naked.

“The only game I play is baseball.”

She took his statement for the warning it clearly was. “No games,” she agreed, though she wasn’t sure exactly what kind of games she could possibly play with this man.

“Take off your panties.”

Her breath caught in her throat at the blatant order. The car idled beneath her like the giant cat it was named after, a sensual caress that made her hyperaware of her lady parts. It didn’t help that they’d been throbbing ever since she first heard his voice purring in the darkness.

“No games, Siobhan. Take them off. Loop them over the mirror.”

She lifted her purse and museum bag off her lap. He took them, depositing them somewhere behind her seat. Raising her hips, she reached under her skirt. It took some fancy shimmying in the tight confines to work her panties off, but eventually she pulled them free then hung them over the rearview mirror.

Long, masculine fingers hooked the crotch. “You’re wet.” She was grateful for the dark interior as her skin heated at his observation. “Recline your seat.”

Wordlessly, she found the lever on the side of her seat. Lowering the backrest as far as it would go, she went down with it, watching his face all the way for any indication this little scene affected him even half as much as it affected her. Jake Tulleson was as cool as a cucumber.

No problem. She wasn’t looking for a relationship, just some sex—preferably good sex—while she was in Dallas helping her brother recover from his most recent hip injury. In a few months, she would head home with a treasure trove of memories she could use to spice up her writing. Never again would a reader complain the sex scenes in her books were dull. She had hoped to come up with a suitable research partner at some point, but not this soon, and she’d never dreamed she’d find someone as promising as Jake Tulleson.

“Hike up your skirt. I want to see you.”

Grasping the fabric near her waist, she gathered her skirt up an inch at a time until her mound was exposed to his gaze. He didn’t say anything for the longest, just looked.

“Beautiful.” He reached across her, closed his hand over the seatbelt, fastening it for her.

He put the car in gear and drove out of the parking lot. Unable to see much from her position, she watched Jake drive. The beast of an automobile purred, reacting to his commands as if it understood he was its master. He held the steering wheel and operated the gearshift with supreme confidence. Imagining him touching her in the same way, she tingled with anticipation, her body humming right along with the powerful engine propelling them through the night.

Suddenly, her inexperience compared to his sexual skill seemed like an insurmountable obstacle. He was used to full-grown cats—felines in need of taming. She was nothing more than a kitten with too much curiosity for her own good. She should tell him what this was all about before it went any further. It wasn’t right to use him for the sake of a few book sales. Up until he’d stepped out of the shadows and illuminated her world a few minutes ago, she’d had a viable plan to fill in the blanks of her sexual experience. She just hadn’t yet gotten up the nerve to watch any of the videos she’d located on the Internet.

The car careened around a sharp curve. Her panties swayed on their makeshift hanger.

I’ve got to tell him.

She tried to sit up, intent on telling Jake the truth about why she had accepted his invitation, but a big hand left the steering wheel to press her back down.

“Don’t move.”

“Jake.” She smoothed her skirt down then made another attempt to sit upright. This time, he didn’t stop her.

“What? Second thoughts?”

“Yes. No.” She reached for her panties but he wrapped his hand around her wrist, stopping her.

“Leave them there.” When she released her grip, he returned her hand to her lap. “We’re almost home. Save what you have to say till we get there.”

At least he’s being reasonable.
All she needed to do was explain the situation. Be up front with him. Then he’d take her back to Bentley’s house. Maybe he’d even offer to answer a few questions for her, like how a man knew what a woman liked or how he knew where to touch a woman to make her forget why she shouldn’t remove her panties and ride through the streets of Dallas with her skirt hiked to her waist.

Her face flamed. She looked out the passenger window in hopes he wouldn’t notice. They’d entered an upscale neighborhood that looked suspiciously like Bentley’s. “Where are we going?”

“I’m taking you home.”

Heat warmed her skin again, but this time humiliation fueled the fire inside her. He didn’t want her, after all. When had he recognized she wasn’t his type? Had she been too eager to remove her panties or was it when she tried to take them back?

“I don’t want to go home.”

He pulled to the curb with the skill of a racecar driver squeezing into a pit stall then slammed the gearshift into Park.

“What the hell are you talking about? I thought we had an agreement.”

“What?” She glanced at the street lined with private walled yards behind security gates. It looked familiar, but had she jumped to the wrong conclusion? “This is the way to Bentley’s.”

His shoulders relaxed. “I live a few blocks from here,” he explained. “Do you want me to take you to Bent’s? Or do you want to come home with me?”

She’d squelched good sense twice tonight. Once when she got in Jake’s car, then again when she’d blurted out that she didn’t want to go home. The voice of reason tried again. “We should talk.”

“No talking. Either you want to have sex with me or you don’t. Which is it?”

The big cat purred softly under the hood of the car.
Sex. That’s all this is.
Jake was years older than her and probably centuries wiser when it came to sexual matters. That’s what she needed. One night with him would give her enough material to write an entire series of books.

“Your house.”

“Say it. Say you want me to fuck you.”

She swallowed hard. A Dreamsicle-colored cat sauntered across the road just on the edge of the Jaguar’s headlight beam. A cat out on the prowl.
That’s me.
She looked at him. “I want you to fuck me.”