She swung, and promptly missed again. This time she swore softly and glared at him, huffing a lock of her auburn hair out of the way. “What am I doing wrong? It looked so easy when you did it.”
“You’re the hitting coach. Relax and feel it.” He mocked her words, enjoying finally getting the upper hand.
Her eyes narrowed, not appreciating his joke.
“Fine.” He pushed away from the wall and came up behind her. He was going to so regret this. He put his hands on her hips and held them still. “Keep these straight toward the plate. Don’t turn toward the pitcher until you swing. And for God’s sake, no wiggling.” He gripped her tighter as she wiggled her butt into his crotch. Thank God he had his jock on to shield him, but the heat almost melted the plastic. “Okay, hands up, bat steady. Keep your eye on the ball.” He positioned her arms, his hands skimming the sides of her breasts. The slight catch in her breath told him she was as affected as he was. “Now, swing through the ball.” He guided her hands through the motion and to the ball. It sailed off of the tee.
She squealed. “I hit it!”
He stepped back and grinned, his gut twisting at the joy on her face. Wondering what else he could do to see that happiness again. “Yup. Try again.” He put another ball on the tee and moved away.
She glanced over at him, pouting slightly. “You’re not going to help me?”
Now he was suspicious. What game was she playing? Like a moth to a flame, he came around behind her and positioned her, trying to avoid touching her, but she wiggled and slid against him. He jumped like a scalded cat and said, “Swing.”
She swung and hit a line drive. She laughed and turned, right into his arms. She tilted her head, her lips a few inches from him, her body molding to him, the heat scorching him.
“Not bad. But you’re not ready for a real pitcher. Not even the machine.”
“I don’t want the machine.”
Before he could stop himself, he lowered his head and kissed her, a light teasing touch, a fleeting brush of the lips, before he settled in for a longer, deeper embrace. His tongue probed her lips, licking gently but not delving inside until she responded. He then pulled her closer, his hands slipping down to cup her firm buttocks, lifting and molding her into his body, her thighs cradling his cupped cock.
She twined her arms around his neck, tangling her hands in his hair, tugging him down firmly.
Despite the roaring of blood in his ears, he heard a sound deep in the tunnel. Voices of players coming for their own batting practice since it was raining and they couldn’t take BP on the field. He broke the kiss and stared into her green eyes, caught the confusion mirrored there. “You might want to get dressed. Players are coming for BP.”
She patted her hair back to some semblance of order. He handed her the jacket and shoes and she quickly dressed. She was just settling when a few players and the hitting coach stepped into the small cage area.
Jason leaned against the far wall, faking a casual pose that he was far from feeling.
Stacia tossed her hair and settled a stern gaze on him. “We still need to discuss your actions the other night.”
He quirked an eyebrow. “What?” Recognition dawned. “Hey, he started it. Was I supposed to sit there and take it? And if you had wanted to discuss that, we didn’t need the little batting lesson.”
Judging by her perfectly shaped raised brow, she didn’t believe him. “You’re clearly busy so we’ll talk later tonight, back at the hotel. But we will talk. Please keep your temper. Avoid reporters for now.” She grabbed her bag and tossed it over her shoulder. “And remember, relax. Your swing will be much looser and you might actually get something out of the infield.”
The players hooted and jeered at Jason, who only smiled and inclined his head slightly.
Round one Stacia Kendall.
But somehow, he’d won too. He’d never felt so relaxed before a game, not in the past several seasons at least. He was looking forward to the next time they’d met. She wasn’t unaffected as she’d like him to think. He adjusted the cup. Neither was he. They weren’t over by a long shot.
Jason went four for four that night with a home run.
*
Jason slipped outof the locker room as soon as he could, avoiding the press of the media and his teammates, needing some quality time alone with a beer and a burger. He should have been celebrating, out with his buddies. Four for four in only his third game back against a pretty tough leftie. Not bad for an old-timer, a has-been, a wash-out.
Instead, he was grounded, headed back to his hotel room like a recalcitrant child. Of course, even if he wasn’t grounded, who would he celebrate with? The twenty-somethings in the locker room who celebrated losses as well as victories? He didn’t even know most of their names yet and he wasn’t sure he wanted to. Who knows where any of them would be tomorrow, or the next day?
Every ballplayer learned to live with trades, releases, faces coming and going. Since it was halfway through the season and the trade deadline had just passed, it was unlikely that many of these guys were going anywhere. So, why didn’t he want to bond with them?
As he walked into the lobby of the hotel, he paused outside the bar and grill. Echoes of the events a few nights previous and the high-pitched laughter of women inside almost caused him to head for the elevators instead. He didn’t need any more trouble. He had enough with a curvy redhead who thought she could advise him on hitting a baseball.
But that perverse side of him, the rebel, refused to be banished. How much trouble could he get into, having a beer? Besides, he expected Stacia to show up anytime, especially since she hadn’t after the game. He strode into the bar, not letting anyone tell him how to live his life. Seating himself at the bar, he ordered a beer and a burger, and munched on popcorn while he waited and stewed.
Hell, she barely knew anything about the sport. How could a woman, who had no discernible talent or knowledge of baseball, be so right about his swing? Relax and swing? It was almost as bad as breathing through the freakin’ eyelids. Yet, he couldn’t deny the results. A couple of singles, a double and his first home run of the season. It had felt great rounding the bases, hearing the jeers and feeding off them.