Hard and Fast Page 13

  As if he sensed her readiness, he ended the kiss and released her leg. “Turn around.”

  “Why?”

  “Turn around, Amanda,” he urged softly, his eyes dark with passion and challenge. “Trust me.”

  Why was she doing this? No answer came to her beyond the need to know what he would do to her. “All right.”

  Satisfaction flashed in his face before he leaned back enough to allow her to move. “Hands on the wall.” He directed her as his palms settled on her waist.

  The eroticism of the moment swelled. She couldn’t see him, couldn’t anticipate what he would do. Yet she could feel him, his body close, touching her in places that made her want more. She’d never experienced such a thing, her arousal so intense. She felt his hand on her zipper, easing it down her back. Already she ached for him, dampness clinging to the satin between her legs.

  “I watched you tonight,” he said, “standing across the parking lot wearing this dress. All I could think about was doing exactly what I’m doing right now.”

  His knuckles brushed her bare back, and she shivered against the unexpected touch. Molten heat moved through her limbs as if she’d been drugged, and her nipples puckered against their lace confines. He skimmed the dress from her shoulders, his hands following its path down her arms. She pulled her hands through the sleeves, letting it fall to her waist, then shimmying it down her hips. Her panties followed.

  She stepped out of the pool of cloth, and he used his foot to widen her stance, opening her to his touch, to his stare. She stood before him, wearing only her bra and her high heels. Knowing he was fully dressed right now made her feel incredibly sexy, as though she was his to admire.

  “You’re beautiful,” he murmured. The compliment fed the ache in her core, just as it had during their previous encounter.

  He undid her bra and she shrugged it away.

  “Hands back on the wall.”

  She didn’t hesitate or argue. She wanted what he offered far too much.

  His thighs aligned with hers, his cock pressing into her backside. His hands slid to her stomach, then burned a path upward until they covered her breasts. He sculpted them with his palms, his touch firm, yet gentle.

  With his long fingers he tweaked her nipples, drawing them into hardened peaks, pleasure rippling through the sensitive buds.

  “Does that feel good, Amanda?”

  “Yes.” She gasped as his fingers lightly tugged on her nipples. “Yes.”

  “See what happens when you trust me,” he murmured, palming her breasts again and kneading.

  Amanda moaned, finding herself arching into his hands even as her hips pressed backward into his erection, wanting all she could get of him. Never had she felt such abandon during sex. And she liked it so damn much.

  His mouth touched her neck, and she leaned to the side to give him better access. She could barely breathe as his lips and teeth nipped, licked, teased. She started rolling her backside into his cock, desperate for him. As much as the scrape of his clothing against her skin tantalized, she hated the barrier of his clothes. Their presence indicated how long she had to wait to feel him inside her.

  And when she thought she would scream with frustration, he seemed to sense her need building. He slid down her body, hands traveling her sides, her waist, her hips, until he was on the floor between her legs.

  Reality rushed back to her. This position made her vulnerable, exposed. She stiffened, wanting to cover herself.

  Before she could speak, he caressed her cheeks with his hands and lips. “Easy, sweetheart,” he murmured. “Remember, pleasure. But you have to trust me.”

  His hand slid between her legs, his fingers claiming her swollen clit and teasing it. Amanda’s breath caught in her throat at the action, her body again taking her beyond thought, beyond resistance. She was lost as his fingers slid through the dampness of her sex, gliding along her sensitive folds, pleasuring her even more than promised.

  Tension built low in her stomach, demanding more, demanding she rock against his fingers. But as she pressed against his hand, he stole it from her reach. An objection on her lips, she gasped to find the wet heat of his mouth closing over her. He’d spun around so that his tongue could lap at her with delicious perfection.

  With precision, he used his tongue, his mouth, his fingers, to stroke her, rocking as she rocked. That tension in her stomach knotted, built, pushed, and she cried out on the edge of release. In response, he steadied her with his free hand, supporting her so she wouldn’t fall while he sucked her fully into his mouth.

  Suddenly, her muscles clenched before a flutter of spasms delivered bursts of pleasure. The pleasure seemed to go on and on, taking all of her.

  The last flutter passed, leaving the heavy leaden sensation of being sated and satisfied. “Oh, my,” she said, laughing, almost embarrassed by how intensely she’d come.

  Brad stood, picking her up as he rose. “Where’s the bedroom?”

  Amanda pointed down the hall and he carried her to the pitch-black room, pausing at the light switch so she could flip it. A second later, he laid her down on her bed, the white down comforter she’d purchased absorbing her body. Weight on her elbows, she watched as he pulled his shirt over his head and those broad shoulders and that perfectly sculpted chest came into view. Her eyes lingered on the sprinkling of light hair on his pecs, knowing it would feel delicious against her breasts.

  She realized her satisfaction wouldn’t be complete until she had him inside her. Until he was on top of her, that hard body braced above hers.

  He pulled off his boots and she saw that she still wore her shoes. She shifted to remove them.

  “Don’t,” he said. “The shoes are sexy.” He spoke the words as he dropped his pants, his erection now in view.

  This man packed an unfair amount of male beauty into one body and she’d do almost anything to get her hands on it. So if he liked the shoes, she liked the shoes.

  He knelt on the mattress and before he could move farther, she grasped his hard length in her hand. Her gaze lifted to his, searching for his reaction, and finding the heat she sought.

  She yearned to explore the effect she might have on him, but his hand came down over hers. “As much as I like you touching me, I need to be inside you right now.”

  He didn’t wait for a response as he pressed her to the mattress, his body covering hers. His erection fit into the slick heat of her arousal as his mouth settled on hers, hot desire pouring through her as their tongues tangled in a wicked dance of need. Hungry. Passionate.

  She curved her legs over his calves, arching upward, aching to have him fill her. She laced her hands through his hair, bodily holding him captive any way she could.

  Tearing his mouth from hers, he left her breathing heavily, desperate for more, as he pressed upward, his powerful arms holding his body above hers.

  He reached between them, took his cock in his hand and slid it along her core. Back and forth, he tormented her with what was to come. Her lashes fluttered with the whirlwind of sensation the movement created, wet heat pouring from her body.

  “Look at me,” he ordered. “I want to see your eyes when I enter you.”

  With supreme effort, Amanda did as he said, staring into his heavy-lidded gaze. The intensity of the moment robbed her of the ability to breathe.

  The soft tip of his erection nudged her opening, and anticipation kicked her heartbeat into double time. She clutched his waist, holding on for the wild ride to come. And then it was there as Brad thrust deep.

  Inhaling long and deep, Brad’s broad chest expanded, drawing Amanda’s attention. “You feel so damn good,” he murmured in a husky tone. “So wet and hot. How do I feel, Amanda?” He pulled back, inch by slow inch, then he thrust again, hitting her core and setting off an explosion of pleasure. “How do I feel, Amanda?”

  He wanted an answer and she was really trying, but the words wouldn’t form, shyness rendering her speechless. It was crazy considering what they�
�d already shared. Still, no man had ever spoken so boldly to her. No man had ever demanded she vocalize her pleasure. But then no man had ever given her so much of it as Brad, either.

  “Amanda.” Her name on his lips pressed her to respond.

  “I…good.” Her voice had a breathless quality. “You feel…stop teasing.”

  His eyes lit with satisfaction. “I never tease.” He thrust again, burying himself in her body, then he lowered himself so that her nipples nestled in the soft hair of his chest. He kissed her with the hunger of a starving man.

  They started to move. A slow, seductive rhythm of bodies melting together, moving back and forth, side to side. Hands exploring, caressing, touching.

  Amanda’s head spun from the fieriness of their shared passion. Nothing existed except this. Now. Brad. She felt herself slip into the fog of those feelings, of the pure need to be closer to him. To feel him deeper. More. She wanted more.

  She arched, meeting the pump of his hips with her own, her kisses becoming as demanding as her body. Brad met each stroke of her tongue, taking her further under the spell with each taste. Each touch.

  And when she thought she could take no more, he thrust hard, caressing her inner wall with perfect friction. His head went to her neck, her hands to his hair. A frenzied rush of movement followed. Thrust, pump. Thrust, pump. Until the ache of being so very near release had her rocking, hips off the bed, afraid of losing that one perfect spot. He seemed to understand, his hands sliding beneath her, palming her butt, as he anchored her, held her steady.

  Together they moaned as he lunged deep. Once. Twice. And then she exploded, her muscles grabbing at his hard length, milking him for their mutual pleasure. He pumped into her one more time, then his body stiffened before shuddering.

  Slowly, their bodies softened into satisfied bliss. Time passed as they remained in that embrace. Amanda wasn’t sure how long. She only knew that she had just had the best sex of her life. And there was something else. Lying here naked, cradled close to Brad, felt comfortable, like a place she never wanted to leave.

  Before she had time to give that idea any consideration, Brad lifted his head, resting his weight on his elbows. “I have a serious question for you.”

  Uncertainty made her heart skip a beat. “Yes?”

  He tilted his head slightly, as if he was giving her closer inspection. “Are you hungry?”

  She blinked, not sure she’d heard right. “What?”

  “Are you hungry?”

  “I…uh…” Her stomach actually felt empty, though the question seemed oddly timed. After all, the man was still inside her. “Yes. I’m hungry.”

  He smiled. “Good.” Satisfaction showed on his face and he gave her a quick kiss. “Because good sex always makes me hungry. I figure if you’re hungry, then it was good for you, too.”

  Amanda shook her head in disbelief and started laughing. “You’re kidding.”

  He frowned a bit. “It was good for you, right?”

  How could he even question such a thing considering what they’d shared? Still, a part of her warmed that he had asked. That he hadn’t assumed she’d been into it.

  “You know very well it was good for me,” she told him.

  “A guy can never be too sure.” He rolled off her, and started to get up, then returned to kiss her. “And since we are putting things on the record tonight, I take good sex and food quite seriously.” Then he smiled. “Let’s order takeout.”

  Pushing to his feet, he gave her a great view of his nicely shaped butt. He headed to the bathroom, completely comfortable in his nudity. Only a moment later, he settled back on the bed and handed her a towel.

  While he reached for the phone book by her bedside, Amanda started to get up, searching for her robe. Brad reached for her arm. “Where are you going?” he asked. “We have to figure out what we want to eat. Unless you want me to order a little of everything like before?”

  “God, no. Don’t do that.” She laughed. “Give me a minute. The air conditioning is blowing right at me and I need a robe.”

  He grabbed his shirt from the end of the bed. “Put this on.”

  The intimacy of the gesture shook Amanda. Wearing Brad’s shirt, ordering takeout. All these domestic customs were what couples did, not people having a one-night—or in their case a two-night—stand. The contentment she took from these actions was really scary.

  She accepted the shirt. Her nostrils flared with the spicy perfection of his scent as she pulled it over her head.

  Then Brad tugged her to his side, and placed the phone book between them, asking her what she wanted. Lord help her, she knew the answer.

  She wanted Brad.

  15

  BRAD SAT ON THE BED next to Amanda, take-out containers from one of his favorite restaurants—a twenty-four-hour joint that served everything under the sun—spread out in front of them. He had pulled on his boxers when the food arrived, though he planned to discard them the minute they were done eating. Amanda still wore his shirt, but she’d added shorts to answer the door. Those would have to go, too. Soon.

  He enjoyed Amanda’s company far more than he’d expected to, which only made him hotter for her. Funny how that worked. A guy could want a woman only to have the attraction fade when she opened her mouth. With Amanda, the opposite was true. Just ordering food had proven fun. They’d debated several choices, and compared likes and dislikes. She hated fish and so did he. They both loved sweets. And morning coffee, for both of them, came before conversation.

  He reached for his chicken sandwich and took a bite, fighting the ache of his arm. Their little sexual adventure had aggravated the pain. That made him pathetic that he couldn’t do a round between the sheets without his arm protesting. Despite the ache, he had no intentions of leaving.

  The truth was, he had no time for a distraction like Amanda. His career was hanging by a thread and he needed to stay focused until management ponied up a deal he could sign. And after what had gone down in this big bed tonight, he knew Amanda would claim attention he couldn’t spare. Still, he wasn’t leaving, consequences be damned.

  Finishing off a bite of his food, he watched her spray extra whipped cream on top of her half-eaten strawberry waffle. The intense look on her face said her task was very important. A cute little wrinkle appeared between her eyebrows as she concentrated. She made the cutest faces.

  “I might have to order one of those,” he commented, having passed on the waffle for the protein boost of the sandwich.

  Amanda eyed his plate. “I don’t know how you’ll have room. That is the biggest chicken sandwich I’ve ever seen.”

  “Never underestimate my appetite,” he warned, thinking of how hungry for her he was. “Maybe I’ll just use the whipped cream on you.” Brad watched her reaction, surprised to see her face color. “Are you blushing?”

  “No.” Guilt flashed on her features. “Okay, maybe a little.”

  When was the last time a woman he’d dated actually blushed? He found Amanda’s mix of innocence and vixen sexy. As sexy as the sight of her in his T-shirt. He’d given it to her for a selfish reason—so that he could enjoy that sweet floral scent of hers on the drive home. He was a sap.

  He decided to spare her blushes and changed the subject. “Your dad and your sister are both doctors but you aren’t. How did that happen?”

  “I have a little problem with blood.” She stabbed a strawberry with her fork. “But I love the sports part as much as they do. So when I couldn’t compete anymore, I started reporting.”

  Brad didn’t even want to think about what came next for him. Deep down, he knew he needed to, though, especially if no contract materialized. But somehow, planning for that future seemed to be admitting his ball-playing career was over. How was he supposed to give up the only thing he’d ever wanted to do?

  “I’m sure it’s not the same.” How could watching from the sidelines ever be as amazing as playing? Hell, his off nights made him crazy having to sit in the dugout an
d think about how he’d play each scenario differently. The only thing that got him through those games was knowing he’d be pitching his turn in a matter of days.

  She tilted her head and studied him. “At first it’s hard, but not forever.”

  He thought she would say more, talk about his future, but she didn’t. Yet, he sensed she was telling him this for his benefit.

  A change of subject was needed. “And your mom?” he asked. “What does she do?”

  “She teaches kindergarten. I have a doctor and a teacher for parents. Talk about protective.”

  He snorted. “Try being in high school and having both of your parents teach at the school. I couldn’t make a move without them being on me about it.”

  “I’ll bet,” Amanda said, with a short laugh. “Your dad coached, right?”

  “Yeah,” Brad said. “I hate that he never saw me make the majors.” He suddenly realized who he was talking to. Amanda was a reporter, and this wasn’t casual pillow talk. “This isn’t an interview, is it?”

  Her eyes flashed with irritation before she looked away, pushing her plate out of reach as if no longer hungry. “Okay. So conversation is out. Forget I asked a question.”

  He grimaced then exhaled, hating the way she’d erected an instant wall. Hating that he’d made her do it. “Amanda.” Brad considered his words. “I’ve been burned by the press. More than once. And right now I have a lot on the line.”

  She fixed her attention on him, her green eyes sharp as they settled on his face. “So do I, Brad. Burning bridges and creating enemies isn’t going to help me, either. You came here tonight spouting about trust. You ask for it, but apparently you aren’t willing to give it.”

  He was a shit to make her feel they couldn’t have a conversation. Worse, there was a thread of truth in her words. “What happened with you and Tony tonight?” he asked, because he needed to clear the air. To make sure she deserved his trust.

  To Brad’s surprise, she didn’t hesitate to answer. “I warned him about Laura,” she said, facing him. “If she has something on him, she’ll use it. I think it’s just a question of when.”