Bases Loaded (Mustangs Baseball) (20 page)

“Okay?”
he asked.

She
nodded, and he held it in place while Keith fastened the straps around the back
of her head.

“God,
that looks hot,” Antonio said. “I can just see you with your face pressed
against Mike’s crotch, his balls banging your chin.

His
words conjured a vivid image in her mind, and her pussy clenched.

“Shit,”
both men said at the same time.

She
clenched her inner muscles again and would have smiled at their reaction if
she’d been able.

“Let’s
give it to her,” Antonio said.

They
began to move inside her, slowly at first, but as they established a rhythm,
the tempo increased. She was consumed with the way they felt inside her, and
after some time she realized her suction on the dildo was in rhythm with their
thrusts.

Her
arms trembled, supporting her weight against Antonio’s shoulders. He said
something, and Keith’s arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her against his
front. It felt strange, another man’s bare chest against her skin, but soon
Keith was crooning sexy things in her ear, nibbling on her neck while his hands
lavished attention on her breasts.

Pulling
her upright changed the angle of penetration for both men, and it seemed as if
both were going deeper. Antonio moved his hands up the inside of her thighs and
soon his thumbs double-teamed her clit, alternating between a smooth circular
motion with lots of pressure and a quick flick that made her crazy.

Her
head fell against Keith’s shoulder, and she clung to his arms. The feel of his
corded muscles moving as he loved her breasts reminded her of the strength her
lovers possessed. She was safe, protected. They only wanted to give her
pleasure, and they were doing it so well she didn’t want it to end. If they
could just hold her this way forever….

A
familiar tension built low in her belly, and soon, her body was reaching for
something, for the promise of something bright and so wonderful she couldn’t
imagine it. The reward was there, just beyond….

“Give
it to me, Clare.” Antonio’s voice reminding her she was his, her orgasms were
his, pushed her over the edge. Into a super storm of sensation.

Her
body wasn’t her own. Wave after wave of intense pleasure consumed her,
heightened her senses so even the slightest touch added exponentially to her
pleasure. Antonio’s hands stroking over her stomach, her ribs, left trails of
fire on her sensitized skin. Keith secured her, his hands cradling her breasts
in a firm grip.

“Beautiful,”
he murmured in her ear. “God, that feels good. Suck that cock just like you’re
sucking mine and Tony’s.”

Her
breath came in short, desperate pants. Her nostrils flared, drawing in the
heavy scent of sex, and the unique musk of her lovers. She sucked hard on the
dildo filling her mouth, unable to do otherwise, and let the sensations tumble
her through the storm.

The
tempest calmed, and she went limp in Keith’s embrace. He whispered in her ear,
“So damned beautiful.” With one hand beneath her chin, he turned and lifted her
face to his. He covered her cheek, her jaw with kisses. “Just a little bit
more, darlin’, then we’ll release you.”

Keith
gently eased her down to lie atop Antonio whose arms came up to surround her
with his love.

“You
okay?” he asked, cradling her head to his shoulder.

She
nodded, loving the feel of his solid body beneath her, inside her, a foundation
of safety she trusted implicitly. His fingers trailed along the bands crossing
her cheek securing the dildo in her mouth. She shivered and moaned as he traced
her lips stretched thin around the artificial cock. “You’re doing so good,
babe. We’re going to finish it now. Hang on to me.”

She
curled her fingers into his shoulders, and they began to move inside her again.
Slow at first, then faster as they established a rhythm, retreating and
thrusting as one. Keith remained upright, his hands spreading her ass, holding
her still. She wanted to move, but was helpless to do anything but let them
take her.

Her
pussy throbbed, every sensitive nerve ending wired. After the orgasm she’d just
experienced, she didn’t think it was possible to feel that way again, but it
wasn’t long before the familiar tension began to build again. Hyper-aware, she
sensed them growing harder, if that was possible, inside her, and in a matter
of moments, she tumbled into the eye of the storm again, pulling both her
lovers with her.

 

Chapter
Nineteen

 

Clare
snuggled against Antonio while they waited in Dallas for the luggage carousel
to spit out their bags. With one arm slung over her shoulder, he held her tight
as if he needed her attached to him in order to breathe. He’d been glued to her
side ever since Keith crawled out of their bed, dressed, and left the day
before. And truth be told, she felt the same way. Coming back home was a given,
but she wasn’t ready to end the connection they’d made over the long holiday
weekend.

She
didn’t understand what had happened, but somehow, the interlude with Keith had
created a bond between her and Antonio that went beyond anything she could ever
have imagined. She loved him, but for her, it encompassed her body and soul.

Soul
mates.

The
term was used to describe people who were meant for each other, but it didn’t
seem to be an adequate description of what she felt for Antonio, and what she
thought he felt for her. They hadn’t talked about the new depth of feeling, but
let their bodies carry on the discussion with touches, glances, and constant
contact.

In
a few minutes, out of necessity, they would go their separate ways. Her job
waited for her, and Antonio…well, surely there was something he needed to do.
They couldn’t remain in the cocoon of sensual bliss they had lived in for the
last four days.

His
arm tightened on her shoulder, and she squeezed him back with her arm wrapped
around his waist. She shifted, turning into his side, so she could press her
mound against his hip. She ached to have him inside her.

“Stop
that,” he said, placing a smiling kiss on the top of her head. “I can’t do
anything to help you here.”

“I
know,” she said, nuzzling his shoulder, inhaling his scent. “I can’t get enough
of you.”

“You’re
not sore?”

“A
little,” she admitted, “but I still want you.” She pressed up against him again
to emphasize the point.

“Behave,”
he admonished playfully. “I’ll massage your aches away later.”

Their
bags plopped out onto the carousel. She reluctantly let him go so he could grab
their luggage. He returned, setting the suitcases at her feet.

“Clare!”
A familiar and unwelcome voice made her freeze. “Tony Ramirez,” the woman said,
her heels clicking across the tiled floor as she approached. “What are you two
doing here?”

Clare
grabbed Antonio’s coat sleeve and silently prayed she was having a nightmare.
She wasn’t really standing in the DFW Airport in a sensual haze brought on by a
weekend of the best sex ever, with the worst bully in the world bearing down on
her.

He
straightened from having set Clare’s suitcase down, and faced the woman
approaching with a determined stride.

Jessica
Roach came to a stop in front of them. It took less than a second for her gaze
to sweep from Antonio to Clare to the suitcases between them, and come to the
obvious conclusion.

She
turned her evil eyes on Antonio. “You’re with her?” She pointed one perfectly
manicured claw at Clare.

Antonio
wrapped his arm around her. “I am. And you are…?”

“Jessica
Roach. We haven’t had the pleasure yet.” She thrust out her hand.

Antonio
ignored the offer of a handshake, perhaps picking up on what she thought was
obvious—Jessica was bad news.

“We’re
in a hurry,” he said, reaching down to release the spring-lock handle on
Claire’s suitcase.

Jessica
would not be dismissed that easily. Something evil flashed in the witch’s eyes,
but before she and Antonio could wrangle their suitcases into moving, she
realized they were too late.

“Tell
me you didn’t take
her
to run the bases,” Jessica said. The emphasis she
put on the word
her
made it plain she believed Clare to be a lower life
form.

Antonio
stopped arranging the luggage and straightened. He looked at Jessica, studying
her like one would study a potentially dangerous bug, deciding between
squashing it and letting it go on its way.

Clare
held her breath. Did he remember Jessica from the Press Dinner? There’s nothing
she would like more than to see someone squash this particular roach. But the
saying, no good deed goes unpunished was coined for vermin like Jessica. There
would be a price to pay for crossing her.

“Not
that it’s any of your business, but we went skiing. We’re tired, and Clare has
work tomorrow, so you’ll excuse us….” He reached for a suitcase handle.

“My,
oh my.” Jessica laughed her witch’s laugh, and having been dismissed by
Antonio, turned her attention back to Clare. “Does he know?” She tossed her
head to indicate Antonio.

“Know
what?” she asked.

“That
he’s—” She leaned in and whispered loud enough for half the terminal to hear.
“—
fucking
Doyle Walker’s niece?”

Antonio
stilled. He looked at the roach, who wore the satisfied look of a predator
going in for the kill. Then he looked at Clare.

“What
did she say?” he asked.

A
blast of cold slammed between her and Antonio. He actually took a step back,
creating more distance between them than any time in the last twenty-four
hours. For the span of a heartbeat, she considered denying it, but despite all
her precautions, Jessica had discovered her connection to the team manager.
Which meant everyone knew because the woman wasn’t capable of keeping a secret.

She
opened her mouth to confirm the damning information, but the words never made
it past her lips.

Jessica
jabbed the barb further in. “How’s that moral’s clause working out for you,
Tony? Did you give it a thought when you were fucking her? Do you think your career
will survive when
Uncle Doyle
finds out you went
skiing
with his
precious niece?”

When
Jessica turned her vicious grin on her, Clare blanched. “Did you earn the
charm? I think not.” Her gaze went to the crotch of Clare’s jeans. “The
piercing is a bitch. You wouldn’t be wearing those this soon. But you’ll never
know. Will you?”

“That’s
enough,” Antonio said. “Leave Clare out of this. What do you want?”

Jessica
smiled at Antonio as if she hadn’t just shattered Clare’s world and put his
career in jeopardy. “Nothing. Nothing at all. I like you, Tony. I think you’ll
be a great addition to the outfield this season. The last thing I want is to
see you throw it all away on the likes of someone like her.” She stepped up,
placed her palm flat on his chest. “I’ll show you my charm, if you show me your
tattoo.” She winked at him, turned on her heel, and walked away, dragging a
Louis Vuitton roll-on behind her.

Her
body had become a solid block of ice. Any movement might cause her to shatter
into a million pieces. She should have told him about her uncle, but keeping
the secret had become so natural it hardly ever occurred to her to mention the
connection. And in her own defense—not that she really had one—he had started
all this by coming up to her at Jason’s fundraiser. If her being the team
manager’s niece was a problem for him, then the fallout from his pursuit of her
was his fault. She would have gone on crushing on him from afar, perhaps
wouldn’t have ever gotten closer than an introduction if he hadn’t outbid her
on all the auction items.

“Is
that true?” he asked, turning to face her.

“Is
what true?” The spiteful witch had thrown out so many shocking revelations,
Clare wasn’t sure which one he wanted verified first. Not that it mattered.
They were all true.

“Doyle
Walker is your uncle?”

“Yes.”

His
shoulders squared, and he looked away from her.

She
rushed to put his concerns at ease. “But I have no intention of telling him
about us or…anything.”

“Come
on.” He grabbed the handle on his bag and started walking. She followed,
pulling her bag along with her.

The
limo driver who met them when they’d first deplaned stood at the curb holding
the rear door open for them. They left their luggage with him and ducked into
the car.

He
didn’t speak again until the door closed, sealing them inside the private
compartment. “I can’t believe you told that woman I’m a member of the club.”
His gaze was as cold and sharp as his accusing words.

Clare
reeled. After all they’d done together….

“You
think
I
told her?” Her voice was unsteady, but disbelief was steadily
growing into anger. “What kind of idiot do you take me for? Jessica is a mean,
vicious woman. I do my best to be civil to her when I have the misfortune of
running into her in a public place, but I. Do. Not. tell her anything—much less
something I don’t want the world to know. She feeds on gossip. And spreading it
is why she gets out of bed in the morning, or crawls out of her cave.”

She
sank back in the seat, exhausted from…everything. The weekend, the sex, the
emotions, the travel, meeting up with the one person in the world she truly
hated. And now this. Arguing with Antonio, and knowing deep down Jessica had
accomplished exactly what she had intended. She’d driven a wedge between her
and the man she loved.

She
couldn’t take much more.

“Well,
she had to find out somewhere, and there aren’t that many people who know,” he
accused.

“Read
my lips,” she said, sitting up to face him. “I. Did. Not. Tell. Her.” She
collapsed back into her seat. “Maybe it was one of the women you ran the bases
with. Did you think about that? Or maybe one of the guys on her team told her.
I don’t care how she found out, but I know this, it wasn’t me.”

“When
were you going to tell me Doyle is your uncle? After you ran the bases? Is this
some sort of sting? Wrangle an invitation, get inside the club, so you can hand
over our names to team management?”

“What
are you talking about?
You
came on to
me
. I had no idea you were
a member of that club until….”

“Why
didn’t you tell me the night we met?”

No
longer afraid of breaking, she was just plain mad…and hurt. “
Really
? Did
you hear
anything
I said to you? I had a crush on you for years, so
yeah, the
first thing
that entered my head when you came on to me was to
tell you about
my uncle
.” She put as much sarcasm as she could muster
into the statement. “You wouldn’t have come near me if I had, and call me
pathetic, but I wanted your attention.”

She
vibrated with anger and a pain so deep it was a wonder she wasn’t bleeding all
over the seat. Tears welled in her eyes, and she turned her head so he wouldn’t
see.

The
car moved out into traffic and, with each silent passing mile, carried her
further into herself and away from Antonio. She was right, and he couldn’t deny
it. He didn’t even try. He wouldn’t have given her a second look if he had
known.

When
they arrived at her apartment, she paused before stepping out of the car. “I
suspect Uncle Doyle already knows we’re seeing each other. You took me home
from the Press Dinner. Remember? He’s not the kind of man who would deny his
niece her happiness, and he isn’t the kind of manager to hold it against you
that things didn’t work out between us. I wasn’t going to tell him about your
involvement with the club, and I won’t. I’m the least of your worries. If you
value your career, don’t turn your back on Jessica. She knows, and if she
thinks hurting you will hurt me, then she’ll sell you out in a heartbeat.”

 

Tony
clenched his fists around the edge of the seat to keep from grabbing Clare and
dragging her back inside. He felt like a part of him was leaving with her, and
the possibility scared the shit out of him. She’d gotten under his skin, and
stolen his heart.

She’s
Doyle’s niece.

“Shit,”
he mumbled as the car pulled away from the curb.

That
bit of news sent shockwaves down to his toes, but he’d had nearly an hour since
the bombshell exploded to get used to the idea, and he’d come to one
conclusion. He didn’t give a flying fuck if Doyle approved of him associating
with his niece or not. Clare was a grown woman. The decision was hers.

And
he was pretty sure his own stupidity had just insured he would never see her
again.

He
didn’t know what made him blurt out the sting operation thing. It was the first
stupid thought that had popped into his head—and like the first pitch, good or
bad, he’d swung without thinking. Stupid. He deserved to strike out.

She
was right—he had approached her, not the other way around. No one, least of all
him, could have anticipated the way he’d felt the instant he saw her at Jason’s
fundraiser. For all the world knew, he liked his women pencil thin and gum
eraser dumb. If anyone was setting up a sting, they most likely would have
employed someone like Jessica Roach to approach him.

Which
brought his thoughts around to the most disturbing news. His secret was in the
hands of a woman he didn’t trust. It hadn’t been necessary to warn him. He’d
decided Jessica was bad news at the Press Dinner when she’d rattled Clare. The
woman had venom in her veins, and she was on a mission to destroy someone.
Bullies always were.

They
zeroed in on people they perceived wouldn’t fight back and asserted their
authority over them in heinous ways to boost their own sense of self-worth.
Funny how bullies didn’t see for every notch their self-worth went up, their
human worth went down ten. As far as he could tell, Jessica’s human worth was
somewhere around zero.

He’d
have to find a way to, if not stop the woman’s bullying entirely, deflect it
from Clare, and at the same time insure she kept her mouth shut about Bases
Loaded. She had no real proof of his connection to the club. Maybe she knew one
of the women he’d played the game with, but it would only be hearsay, not solid
evidence. But in a world that lived for rumors like Major League Baseball, it
could be enough to do serious damage to his career and the careers of every
other member of the club.

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