He drew himself up on his knees and his hot gaze traveled down her exposed torso, igniting her nerve endings He stood and slid out of his jeans, no underwear on display. She arched an eyebrow. He shrugged, then snagged his toiletries bag, pulling out a strip of condoms. He tossed them on the side table and lowered himself back onto the bed.
“I thought you weren’t expecting anyone.” She frowned at the thought that he was always prepared, as if expecting someone else.
“I’m always prepared.”
He lowered his head and took a nipple in his mouth, swirling a tongue around the taut tip, then biting down lightly. She gave a small scream at the sharp bite of pain, but he soothed it with his lips and tongue. The next time he nipped, she was prepared and arched into his mouth for more. His other hand kneaded and massaged her other breast, plucking the nipple until it pebbled. Then he switched, alternating nips and sucks against the sensitive tip until she was squirming, awash in sensations buffeting her from all angles. She tried to move her legs, to ease the ache between her thighs, an ache that was intensifying every second, each tug sending shoots of electricity straight to her core, but his legs firmly encased her, not allowing any movement.
“Have you ever come from someone playing with your breasts alone?” he murmured against her skin.
It took a moment for the words to register through the sensual haze fogging her senses. She shook her head, unsure if she could speak beyond the moans she made with each twist and caress of her breasts, which she had never thought were that sensitive.
He smiled. “This will be a first for you then.”
He renewed his attack on her breasts, pushing them together, using fingers and tongue and lips to reduce her to a quivering, screaming mass within seconds, her world exploding into tiny fragments. When she finally came to, he was levered above her, a very satisfied smile playing about his lips. He glanced up at her hands, still above her head, twisted in the pillow. He nodded once. “I think a reward is in order.”
“More?” She shivered at the promise in his gaze, thrilled and excited at the playful side.
He laughed, a deep throaty sound. “Oh yes, more.”
Jason took her lips in a deep kiss, tongue stroking hers, stoking the coals of sexual desire, where they smoldered after her shattering orgasm. He kissed his way down her body, pausing to tongue her navel for a moment, another erogenous zone she never knew she had. He continued lower, finally reaching the spot that had been begging for his touch almost as soon as she’d walked into the room. He traced the outline of her panties with his tongue, dipping beneath to the sensitive skin along her groin. She reminded herself to thank Sophie for the spa day and waxing she had before the road trip. Who knew bare skin would be so erotic?
A ripping sound drew her attention back to the moment. Jason tossed her panties to the side. He parted her legs and her outer lips to gaze at her, a red flush covering his face. She tried to draw her legs closed, never comfortable with anyone looking that close, but he was too strong. In one motion, he leaned forward and swiped his tongue from her entrance up to the swollen bud at the top. She gave a strangled scream and almost shot up in bed, and buried her hands in his silky hair.
He glided his tongue into her entrance, deep, then swirling around the opening, pressing it to her hot, wet flesh. He flattened his tongue, the pressure more and more insistent as he traced her lower lips, avoiding the bud begging for his attention. She tugged his hair and he chuckled against her, the breath inflaming her nerves to a breaking point. At that moment, he sucked on the nub and sucked, one then two fingers driving deep. She exploded around him for a second time with a loud cry.
She had barely come down when he sheathed himself in a condom and drove into her in one long stroke. She cried out at the sensation, the sensitive tissues stretched and filled. He sank hard and deep, then slow, twisting lightly before plunging inside again.
“I can’t go slow, Stacia. I can’t.” His voice sounded strangled and hoarse.
She wrapped her legs around him and lifted her hips to meet his thrusts. “Then don’t.”
As if her words had unleashed the beast, he drove harder, deeper and with a few short strokes, he was coming, and she was coming around him, letting herself fall into the well of sensations, pulsing deep within her. He collapsed to the side, pulling her with him. His hands drifted down her back, fingers caressing her spine, more of a reflex, calming motion than for anything she needed. She was boneless, draped across him, no desire to move, fully sated for the first time in forever. Her eyes tugged closed and she drifted away.
*
Stacia stood infront of the hotel room’s full length mirror and manipulated her hair into a French twist. Jason lay on the bed, partially covered by the sheets, his gaze scorching her, luring her back to bed. She stifled a smile at his little boy pout while she put the finishing touches on her makeup and hair. “Forget about it, Jason. I have things to do, namely your reputation.”
“How about you just do me and to hell with my reputation?” She gave him an admonishing look. He grunted. “Fine. What do you have in mind?”
She walked over to the bed and sat on the edge, just out of reach. “You’re willing to work with me on this?”
“Within reason.” His voice was raspy and sexy, and scraped along her nerve endings.
A thrill of excitement coursed through her. Finally, success. Now to break the news of her plans to him. “Per your dictates and your contract, we want to stay low-key. So, instead of a lot of photo ops and charity events, which, to be honest, you don’t even have time for, let’s focus on your play on the field.”
“You’re kidding right?” He barked a laugh. “You’re going to tell me how to play baseball?”
“You went four for four last night with a homerun didn’t you?” She smiled, satisfied that she’d made her point. “No, I don’t plan on telling you how to play. But, despite your hitting, you got slammed by the press and the commentators on your game.” She held up her tablet. “Look at this. ‘Friar proved he could still hit, but he dogged it around first. That single should have been a double, which could have led to a run.’”
She handed him the tablet and he scanned the article. “One of your bad raps is that you’re not a team player. You said no one cared about your off-field activities when you were producing. Well, if we ignore your off-field activities, you still have room for improvement on the field, namely starting with this article. We need to manage that kind of reporting, don’t give them an excuse to write such things about you.”
He tossed the tablet on the bed and stood, carelessly letting the sheet fall away. Stacia glanced away before he could see the hunger surely reflected in her gaze, belying her words just a few minutes ago about not having time.
Ignorant of his nudity, he stalked to the desk, then back again. “I just returned. My legs aren’t there yet. I didn’t think I could make it to second.”
“You didn’t even try,” she quietly pointed out.
He whirled around and glared at her. “Now you’re my coach? I know what I can and can’t do. I would never dog it and hurt the team.”