She sucked in a breath. She’d just bet he could. “How about I watch the road for you?”

“You won’t be watching the road. You’ll be concentrating on what I’m doing.”

“Is that a challenge?”

He gave a quick, wicked smile, but to his credit, he kept his eyes on the road.

“Lean your seat back, Alicia.”

She tilted the seat back and spread her legs, chewing her lip the entire time.

“Lift your dress so I can see what you’re wearing underneath.”

She drew her dress up, revealing the hot pink underwear she’d worn to match the pale pink and white sundress she had on.

“Sexy.” And that was the only look he gave her. Eyes on the road, his fingers crept over her thigh and between her legs, causing a shock of pleasure when he cupped her sex. She melted against him, arching toward his searching fingers.

“This makes me hard, Alicia, makes me think about all the things I want to do to you when we get back to the house.”

The outline of his erection was visible against his jeans. “I want to touch you.”

He shook his head. “No. I want to make you come. Just relax.”

She let out a shaky breath and half turned toward him, giving him better access. He took advantage, sliding his hand down into the silk, touching her bare skin.

She moaned and gripped his wrist as he found her clit, then slid his fingers lower, teasing her pussy. She didn’t know if it was being in the car, the idea of this being so public, but she was throbbing, her cl*ttingling with pulses of need.

“You’re wet, babe,” he said, taking a quick glance at her. The hunger in his eyes undid her as he swirled her moisture over her clit. “I’m going to make you come.”

“Yes,” she said, sliding her hand over his, helping him get her there. She pressed down on his hand and shoved his fingers deeper inside her. “Harder.”

She swallowed, her throat dry as he increased the pressure. She couldn’t control the desire now, and didn’t care who might be watching. She undulated against the most exquisite sensations as she shattered against his hand with a loud cry.

“Oh, yeah,” she heard him say, but she was lost, bucking against his fingers as she came in wild, seemingly endless bursts that left her hot and shaking. It was only after the trembling stopped that Garrett removed his hand.

And when he licked his fingers one by one, she shuddered, hoping they’d be back at the house in a hurry.

“Glad you kept your eyes on the road the whole time,” he teased.

She realized Godzilla could have stepped out of the ocean and onto the road in front of them and she’d have been totally oblivious to it. She smoothed her dress down over her legs. “Okay, I might have been a little distracted.”

He cocked a grin. “Just the way I like you.”

Now it was her turn. She leaned over and laid her hand on his thigh, wanting to make sure his erection didn’t go anywhere. His jaw clenched as he drove the rest of the way back to the house.

By the time he pulled into the driveway, his clamped jaw had worked itself into a decided twitch. She was rather proud of that, because he’d driven her absolutely out of her mind with pleasure, so she felt obliged to return the favor. Her fingers danced over his fully hard cock, and if he hadn’t been driving, she’d have unzipped him and would’ve stroked or sucked him. But she did prefer he pay some attention to the road, so this tease was enough torture for him.

She gave him points for being a very good driver.

He opened her car door and pulled her out, pressing her against the side of the car to fit his lips to hers and grab a handful of her ass.

She was more than ready for him, and when he scooted her across the car to lay her flat on the warm hood, pressing his hot, hard body against her, she was sure he was ready to take her right there, his body surging against hers.

Not that she’d object—much. She flattened her palms against his chest and gave him a little push. “Shouldn’t we take this inside?”

He pressed a kiss against her jaw. “Not sure I can wait that long.”

She loved that he wanted her that much. The feeling was mutual, and if they hadn’t left the porch light on and it wasn’t so brightly lit out here, she might just consider it, because he was rubbing his hard c**k against her sex. A few more minutes of that and she’d be ready to explode.

Fortunately, he pulled her up and nearly dragged her to the front door.

They didn’t make it far inside, though, because as soon as he shut the front door, he drew her to the floor, pulling her down on top of him. She landed with her skirt over her hips. Garrett took advantage, slipping his hand into her panties to roam over her bare butt.

“I’ve been wanting to get my hands on your na**d ass all night.”

She lifted up, resting her hands on his chest. “We should get into bed so I can touch you.”

He shook his head. “It’s too far into the bedroom. Touch me here.”

“Get undressed.”

He half rose, and within a couple of seconds, his shirt was off, exposing his well-sculpted abs. She splayed her hands across them then leaned over him to press a kiss to his nipples.

He gave her a look. “That’s not where I want your mouth, Alicia.”

“Really.” She kissed his neck. “Here?”

“A little lower.”

She slid her tongue down to his rib cage and moved along his stomach. “How about here?”

“You’re getting a little closer. Keep going.”

When she laid her hand on his cock, he tensed. “Yeah. There. With your mouth.”

She loved that he had no problem telling her what he wanted. And how he wanted it. She popped the button on his pants and slowly drew the zipper down. He kicked off his shoes, and she lifted off him momentarily so he could shove his pants off, freeing his c**k for her to grasp in her hands.

He was na**d now, and she gloried in just looking at him. She always loved seeing him na**d, being able to run her hands over his magnificent body, which she did now, snaking her hands up his abs and over his chest.

“Now you.”

She pulled her sundress over her head, leaving her in her underwear, which she took care of by standing and straddling him. She popped the clasp on her bra, removed it, and cast it aside, then shimmied her panties down her thighs.

Garrett grasped her ankles while she stepped out of her panties and threw them in the pile.

She stood, straddling him and looking down at him. He smiled up at her and took a deep breath. She knew what he was looking at. She’d never been shy about her body, but oh, the way he was looking at her made her blush from her toes to the tips of her hair.

“Now, there’s a beautiful sight. Come sit on me.”

She squatted down and sat on his thighs, grasping his c**k with both hands. “Actually, this is a beautiful sight. I love touching you, Garrett. All over.”

He laughed. “I like your hands on me.” He thrust his shaft upward. “When you touch me, it makes my c**k throb.”

She twisted her hands around, watching his face go dark. When she leaned forward, her hair spilled around him. He fisted it in his hand, forcing her gaze to his.

“Suck me, Alicia.”

Her pu**y clenched at his command, exciting her, dampening her as she moved her lips to his cockhead. She licked her lips, then put her mouth on him, her tongue swirling around the wide head.

“Christ,” he said, surging forward to propel his shaft into her waiting mouth.

She took control then, closing her fist around the base of his shaft and sucking him deeply into her throat. His loud groans told her he enjoyed what she did. She wanted him to come hard, like he’d made her come in the car, so she pressed the roof of her mouth tight against her tongue, sucking as she brought his shaft deeper, cupping his balls, and giving them a squeeze.

“That’s going to make me shoot my come in your mouth, babe,” he said, pumping into her mouth with hard, rapid thrusts.

She held tight to him, squeezing him until he let out a harsh groan and came, spilling onto her tongue. She swallowed and held him while he shuddered and called her name. He held tight to her until he dropped to the floor and relaxed his body. She pressed a soft kiss to his shaft then climbed up his body to lay next to him while he recovered.

“Jesus Christ, I can’t even breathe.” His voice was hoarse.

She smiled and swept her hand over his chest, smoothing away the fine sheen of sweat that had gathered there. “I’ll go get us some water.”

“I’ll meet you in the bedroom.”

She got them each a glass of ice water. He had the covers turned down and the fan on, the door to the deck partially open to let the night breeze in. Garrett was on the bed waiting for her, so she handed him the glass, which he downed in about four quick swallows. She climbed onto the bed next to him and cuddled beside him.

“I’m not sure I have the strength to make love to you,” he said.

She grinned. “It’s not necessary. Besides, I think you already did.”

He laid the empty glass on the table and turned to her. “Bullshit. That was foreplay.”

Before she could even blink, he had shifted her under him, his body hot and hard and covering hers. He framed her face in his hands. “I want as much of you as I can get, Alicia.”

There was something he wasn’t saying. Like he wanted her while it was just the two of them, before they headed back to St. Louis, before the season started, before real life intruded and they were torn apart?

She knew what they had was only temporary, and she was living in a fantasy world with him right now. Logically she knew it, anyway. They weren’t going to stay together for so many different reasons, the least of which was both of their careers.

She swept her hand across his jaw, always a turn-on to caress the rough beard there. She shuddered and pushed aside the temporariness of their relationship. For now, he was hers, and she’d have him for as long as she could. And when it came time to walk away, she would. Because her career came first, just like his did. They were both adults, and they could handle this.

She could handle this.

Right now, she only wanted Garrett, only wanted to concentrate on his body moving over hers, inside her, and on the way he made her feel. She sparked so fast with him, and like it or not, she was different when she was with him. He brought out so much passion in her, made her feel so free.

And as he clasped his hand with hers and they went over the edge together, she knew what she’d always known.

He was something amazing. Undeniably special. And he made her feel special.

And she was in love with him.

Which was going to make that whole walking-away-at-the-end-of-all-this thing really damned difficult.

TWENTY-THREE

GARRETT APPROACHED THE TRIP BACK HOME TO ST. Louis with both excitement and bone-shaking terror.

Spring training had ended, and while he’d gotten in some work with the team and he knew he’d made significant progress, he’d pitched no games. In the back of his mind, he’d thought maybe he’d be strong enough to pitch before the end of spring training.

Alicia had made no promises to him and in fact told him it likely wouldn’t happen, but she’d do her best to get him ready so he could pitch in the regular season.

He’d made a mental note that she hadn’t said she’d have him ready by the start of the season. He refused to remind her that when they very first started working together, she’d told him she’d have him on the mound by the start of the season. He’d considered it a promise at the time.

He’d believed her, and she’d gotten him further along than he’d thought. That was good enough. He considered it a miracle he was this close to pitching again.

But the regular season was about to begin, and that meant it was make-it-or-break-it time for him.

He wanted on the mound in the first series. If he couldn’t be the first game starter, then he wanted in the rotation.

There was no doubt his shoulder was in great shape. His therapy with Alicia had been going well. They’d moved from those small pitching sessions and had begun working him out with the coaches again. He’d started throwing again—regular pitches this time.

Everything felt good. His shoulder was strong, he was getting velocity on his pitches, and every day he felt better and better, like his old self again. Alicia still put him through his grueling therapy sessions, and every day they hurt less and less. Alicia told him it was a day-by-day thing and all a matter of time.

He hoped like hell that wasn’t some standard bullshit spiel she said to all the players in recovery, because he was so goddamn ready to pitch he could taste it.

Today they were on the field working position practice. He was over with the pitchers taking warm-ups, though Alicia was there with him, along with the pitching coach, who was watching his mechanics. As he wound up and threw his curveball into the catcher’s mitt, Bobby Sloane, the pitching coach, frowned.

“Do it again.”

He did. And Bobby frowned. Again.

“One more time,” Bobby said.

After Garrett threw the pitch, Bobby still didn’t look happy. Not that Bobby ever smiled, but if you threw the pitches right, Bobby walked off and terrorized a different pitcher. This time he stayed. “Something’s off with your curve. You’re not hitting the strike zone. Is it your shoulder?”

Garrett rolled his shoulder. “It feels fine.”

“Throw a few sliders.”

He did then some changeups and fastballs, all according to the coach’s directions.

Bobby watched them all, then shook his head. Instead of talking to Garrett, he turned to Alicia. “He’s off, Alicia. I don’t like those pitches just yet. They don’t have the trademark Garrett Scott finesse.”