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“Breathing?” she prompted, tonguing her way up his throat.

He liked her out of control, when he was the one calling the shots. But his head tipped back easily as she cupped his jaw to move him into a position she liked better, and he was pretty sure he wasn’t going to stop her. “I don’t have to remind myself how much I enjoy the way my lungs function. They just do. I step on the mound and my body automatically cues up into the right stance to throw.”

“What else?” She opened his shirt, her clever hands sliding down his torso to explore every inch of it, and her touch enflamed him. His thoughts fragmented as he fell into a sensuous haze, and words just spilled out from somewhere inside.

“My mind turns the ball over and over, examining it, hearing the way it sounds in the air. In my peripheral vision, I’m checking out first base to see if the guy has a little too much of a leadoff. The sun is usually high in the sky and I have to adjust my cap. But that guy at bat? He’s not getting a piece of my arm.”

“Logan, that’s beautiful,” she murmured and cupped his face with her hot hands, laying a kiss on his lips that he felt deep inside. When she pulled back, her eyes glowed with something he couldn’t name, an appreciation, maybe, for what he’d shared without really meaning to. “You’re a pitcher.”

It wasn’t a question, but he nodded as his throat worked, and he couldn’t swallow all at once. None of that should have come so automatically, and she’d clued in that it was significant. Somehow. He’d never told her that he’d played professionally. That it still killed him on a regular basis that he wasn’t down on the field at this moment warming up.

Sometimes being in the dugout with the team let him pretend for a few moments that he would actually don a uniform. Up here in a box? No way to maintain that illusion.

So here he was perpetuating another one. With Trinity.

When had he become so dependent on fantasy?

And how had she figured that out about him?

Before he could gather his scattered wits, she kissed him again, but this time, it had far more intent. Her mouth slanted against his, growing more heated and deliberate. Her tongue wound against his, seeking more, going deeper, and he helplessly fell into her, because he didn’t care if it was supposed to be fake.

He wanted this woman as bare to him as he’d just been to her.

The tangle of their bodies pressed intimately together and her hips circled harder, faster against him. He reacted instantly, his insides turning molten until he couldn’t feel his bones any longer. Closer. He needed her, ached to be inside her, and put his hands on her waist to hold her in place as he ground into her core, his shaft so hard between them it was a wonder he didn’t bruise her tender flesh.

“Logan,” she murmured. “Let me pleasure you.”

And then she easily broke his hold, dropping to the ground between his legs. Her lithe hands went to work on his belt buckle, and before he could think of a reason to stop her, she yanked down his zipper, burrowing into his clothes to hit bare flesh.

He sucked in a breath as she peered up at him and simultaneously cupped him in her hot hands, running his tip along the line of her lips. He jerked involuntarily as sensation rocketed up his length.

The raw mood she’d uncovered twined with the physical reaction, making everything feel ten times more powerful.

“You’re so beautiful,” she crooned. “I’m going to take care of you. Let me show you how good this tongue piercing can make you feel.”

So much blood rushed south he didn’t understand how his heart could still be beating, but his pulse thundered in his ears, so things must still be in working order.

And then the entire world slid sideways as she dragged her tongue up his length. The bite of the steel coupled with her hot, rough lick nearly separated his bones from his skin. Then she sucked him fully into her mouth and he was lost to the dual sensations of cold and heat.

The emotional vortex inside him heightened everything.

Higher and higher she spun him. It was so good that his hips bucked automatically, shoving him deeper into her mouth, but she took him, all of him, and it felt unbelievable. So amazing that he couldn’t hold back, couldn’t stop the flood of Trinity through his blood, and his thighs tensed with the effort it took to simply keep breathing.

The release pounded through his entire body, ripping a cry from his throat that was one hundred percent primal, and it was easily the hardest he’d ever come in his life. She finished him off expertly and he fell back on the couch, nerveless and so spent he couldn’t feel his toes.

But the sated serenity that stole over him was so very right.


Tags: Kat Cantrell Billionaire Romance