Playing with Fire - A Sports Romance (3 page)

I stand outside the door to one of the fancy offices along the hall of windows looking out onto the ballfield. On the wall is a silver nameplate with her name etched on it. And beyond the solid wood door, between me and a large window overlooking the parking lot and the city beyond, is the first woman to have ever bested me. She’s leaning over her desk, hands hovering over piles of paper, gorgeous ass sticking up in the air. I adjust my jeans to make room for my growing erection, then scoot through the door and close it behind me. The quiet click grabs her attention and she spins to face me.

“Nice to see you again, doll.” I smile and step towards her.

She scowls at me. “Don't call me that here.”

“What should I call you then? Ashley?” An anger I hadn't felt until now races through me. “I suppose the number you gave me isn't yours, either, huh?”

She cringes but rolls her eyes. “Like you’re anyone to talk,
Luke
.”

“Lucas. Corey Lucas,” I correct her. “You stopped me before I could finish.”

“What are you, fucking James Bond?”

I smile wide, my anger depleting. “Only if you’re my Pussy Galore.” It’s the exact kind of thing that would have had us rolling on the bed, holding our sides in laughter during our last time together. But instead of laughter, I get a pointed glare.

“Look,” she tells me, facing her desk and shuffling through some papers there, “I made you no promises. There's a reason I didn't ask for your name. I never wanted anything but a night of fun.” She turns back to me, her eyes hard and her face a blank mask.

“We can still have some fun,” I say. I step close, sliding one hand around to the small of her back and one behind her head. I pull her close and press my lips tight against hers. There is no warmth, no passion, just a few brief seconds of contact.

Without warning, Frankie pulls back and slaps my face. I never would have expected a woman of her size to be able to pack such a punch. My skin feels like it’s on fire and stars flash behind my eyelids. I hold my hand to my face, letting the relative cool of my palm calm the burning in my cheek.

When my vision clears, I pull my face back up to look at her. The blank mask of her face twitches once, right beneath her eyes, and as fast as she slapped me, she lunges at me. Her arms are around my neck, hands fisted in my hair, legs wrapped tight around my waist. And her lips, sweet Lord her lips, are crushing down on mine.

It takes me a second to react, and by then her tongue is in my mouth. I greet her greedily and grasp her tight ass in my hands. She squeezes her thighs, lifting herself like I'm used to, and I slide my hands up her back, untucking her shirt and touching her bare, silky skin with my fingers. I grab her nape and hold her face to mine, keeping our lips locked, our tongues tangling together.

Frankie stops what she’s doing, freezing in place. She drops her hands and legs and slides out of my grasp. Pushing away from me, she turns to face her desk before spinning back to me.

“Get out of my office.” Her voice is ice in my veins, her face red like the rage emanating from her every pore.

“Frankie—”

“Out!” She points to the door, staring me down even as I swallow hard, then nod and head to the door. I stop with my hand on the handle, one foot in and one foot out. But I can't think of anything to say to make her let me back in.

F
rankie

“
T
here she is
!” Marco, dressed in a black suit and an open-collared crisp white shirt, comes walking through the door like he owns the place. Maybe because he does. “How was your first day, Tesoro?” He takes me by the shoulders and kisses each cheek before I can stop him.

“Marco!” I glance at the door as I brush him off me. “I told you, you can't do this.”

Marco shakes his head and chuckles. Not a single strand of his thick black hair, slicked back over his head, comes loose. His olive complexion warms at his cheeks as he shrugs his broad shoulders. He looks every bit the part of a guilty Italian mobster.

“I really don't understand what your issue is with this, Frankie.”

“My issue is I don't want people thinking I got here because of who I am.”

“But you did, Tesoro.”

“No,” I remind him. “I'm here because I'm damn good at what I do and you need what I got. And if you insist on behaving this way, I’ll walk.”

Though my threat is half-hearted, Marco doesn't realize this. He’s terrified I'll make good on it. And knowing what’s good for me, I’ll continue to let him think it.

He holds his hands up in front of him in surrender. “Okay, okay, Tesoro, you win. Now,” he says, giving me that devilish smile that so often nets him what he wants, “you’re coming to dinner tonight, yes?”

I turn to my desk and start throwing papers in my tote. “No, I'm not. I have someone I need to see.”

What Marco doesn't know is that someone is Mitch, with his ability to make a mean vodka martini. And of course, being a bartender, he knows how to listen and when to shut up. I leave as soon as Marco exits my office. When I get to the Savory, I drop my tote off in my room and head straight down to Riverside.

“Frankie, darlin’, you feelin’ okay?”

I pull my head off the bar, where I buried it in my arms when I sat down, and look up at Mitch. I groan and shake my head.

“I am definitely not okay,” I tell him. I eye the martini glass he holds up and nod, watching him as he sets to work making me a drink.

“You want to talk about it?” he asks as he sets the drink in front of me and leans his elbows on the bar.

I grab the glass and take a big gulp, then shake my head again. “I fucked up, Mitch.”

He raises an eyebrow at me and leans in a little closer. “This about that guy you were with the other night? He bothering you?”

I down the rest of my drink and push the glass across the bar top to Mitch. As he sets to work making me another, I enlighten him.

“I started a new job today.”

“Shit.” Mitch looks up from my glass. “He work there, too?”

“Of all the people. Seriously, I wanted to blow off some steam, have a little fun. And never see him again.”

“And now it’s impossible.” Mitch shakes his head as he sets my glass back in front of me.

I nod, though he’s not quite right. In fact, it would be all too easy to never see Corey again. All it would have taken was another three minutes in my office with him. If Marco found out about us, Corey would be out on his ass in an instant. As it was, only seconds after I got my shirt tucked in, hair pulled back, and lipstick re-applied, Marco had come into my office unannounced.

“Forgive me if I’m stepping over my bounds here,” Mitch says, leaning closer again, “but you looked like you enjoyed yourself quite a bit. Was he so bad you don’t want to see him again?”

So much for knowing when to shut up.

I sigh and stir my martini with my olives. “No. He wasn't bad. Just the opposite, actually. It’s… complicated.”

“Office romance and all that?”

“Exactly.” If only that were it. But I don't want to get into it with Mitch. Few people in this town know who I really am, and I’d like to keep it that way.

Mitch catches the wave of someone across the bar and shrugs his apologies before taking off. I watch him take care of his customers, wondering if I should have taken my chances with him instead of going for Corey. Would I even have been able to if I had wanted to? Corey is a force of nature. He is Eros, god of sex, embodiment of sexual power. Never have I dreamt of being so satisfied. Never have I even considered giving my real number to someone before.

Never have I had to deal with the aftermath like I am now.

It’s just my luck he plays for the same team I was hired on with. It’s not just my life this could mess up. This is a whole other ballgame.

C
orey

I
'm fuming
mad and frustrated beyond belief by the time I pull into my parking spot at my apartment. Everything about this woman is wrong, and I can't get enough. That kiss in her office is on my mind, the heat of her body pressed hard against mine. The icy tone she took as she threw me out.

Up in my apartment, I pace the hardwood floors of my living room until I can't take it anymore. I throw in a pair of sweats and grab my headphones before I'm out the door. Short of sex, the only way to work off this tension is to run. I head off towards the river and the path that skirts the water and snakes through the city. Though I’ve taken this path numerous times and I know it runs past the ballfield, I’ve never run that far before. But as I pass the Savory, my frustration hits me again and I push myself harder until I end up where it all started earlier today.

Exhausted and famished, I stop by a food truck near the stadium before I make my way back across town. I don’t taste the Thai tacos as I shove them down my throat. The short break I give myself is too much for my aching muscles, and I decide to catch a cab back to my place. By the time I'm there, my sweat has cooled and my blood has chilled in my veins.

I hop in the shower, then grab a bottle of beer and switch on the television, finding some mindless drivel that helps take my mind off everything. My bag is packed and I’m ready to go when my doorbell rings.

I drag myself across the room and look out the peephole but see nothing there. I need to remember to call management about this damn thing. The peephole wasn’t installed correctly, and it annoys the hell out of me. When I open the door, there’s a woman waiting there.

“Madison?” I scrunch up my face as I take her in. “What are you doing here?”

My neighbor is standing in the hall looking like she has a hot date. Her tight red dress strains against her chest and hangs only inches below her crotch. I get hard thinking of running my tongue up her long, perfectly-sculpted legs.

“I was coming to check on you. It’s almost three.” She’s pouting and staring at me like there’s something wrong with me.

And then it hits me. There is something wrong with me. I was supposed to meet her at one.

Shit. “I am so sorry, beautiful. I had a horrible day at work and completely forgot.”

“That’s okay.” Madison strains forward, jutting her chest in my direction. “You’re here now. I’ll let you make it up to me.”

My stomach lurches. Double shit. I grimace and motion to my suitcase at my feet. “Ah, baby, I’m about to head out.”

Her boldness surprises me as she reaches out and drags a finger down my chest, stopping at the waistband of my suit pants before she presses her body against mine. “I was really, really looking forward to seeing you.”

“I'm sorry, baby,” I say, wishing now I hadn't had that run. “I’m gone to Arizona for the next month for Spring Training.”

“Arizona, huh?” Madison chews on her bottom lip as she runs her finger back up my chest. “Maybe I’ll have to come down to see you.”

“To Arizona?”

“Mmm hmm.” She leans forward and captures my lips with hers, wiping the grimace right off my face. When she pulls back, she licks her thumb and wipes it on the corner of my mouth. Her sexy red lipstick is smudged across her lips. “If you’re free, we could go out.”

The last thing I want to do was go out with the girl. I’d much rather stay in, in bed. But I’ve messed this up and it might be the only way to save it.

“Sure,” I say, forcing a smile. “I'm sure we can work something out.”

Her smile is flawless, like the rest of her. She wishes me good luck and I admire her backside as she sashays down the hall to her apartment, her ass swaying to an unheard rhythm that’s both delicious and hypnotic.

* * *

M
att won’t let
it go that I blew off wild sex with my hot neighbor. All through practice the next two days, he’s ribbing me.

“So tell me one more time,” he starts again as we’re walking through the weight room. “You knew she was ready for you, and you decided to take a run instead?”

“Do we really need to do this again?” I ask as I walk away from him and grab a kettle bell off the rack.

“I’m trying to understand,” he says, laughing. “You said she was ready to go, that it was a sure thing, and then you go for a run? How do you do that?”

“You wouldn’t understand.”

“No, I really don’t understand. But I really want—”

“Matt,” I interrupt, dropping the kettle bell to my side. “Fuck off.” I toss the weight back onto the rack and head off across the room.

There’s no way I can make him understand. Matt’s still with his high school sweetheart, Ellen. He’s never done one-night stands or meaningless sex, and that’s all I’ve ever wanted. He’s had her, and no one but her, every minute since they got together. He tries to live vicariously through me and Ramon, but there’s some things he doesn’t get.

There’s some things I don’t get.

Like, how can Frankie still be bothering me? Yes, she lied to me. So what? I’ve done worse to others. Yes, the sex was fantastic. So what? It’s not like I haven’t had mind-blowing sex before. And yes, she blew me off. But so what?

She blew me off, then ran me ridged as she shoved her tongue down my throat in her office. Then she threw me out, the look on her face making it clear she didn’t want me anywhere near her.

Maybe that’s what it is. The flames that scorched my skin when our bodies connected were frozen solid by her icy resolve. The two things don’t mesh. They don’t make sense to me. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever met with before, and it’s killing me that I can’t figure it out.

I’ve seen her around the last couple days. She’s been stopping by practice, grabbing one of the team and hauling them off somewhere inside the building. Other times I see her amongst a group of suits, or with a gaggle of skirts floating around behind her. They hang on her every word, like they’re the newbs and she’s the expert they’re here to learn from. Her presence is commanding. She could part the seas with a single step on the sand.

But she won’t give me the time of day. I’ve seen her. She avoids me like the plague, turning away and busying herself if I get too close. She won’t meet my eyes. It’s nothing like the woman I met in the bar. It’s nothing like the goddess I spent hours inside of, whose body I memorized without meaning to.

“You in love, hermano.” Ramon’s voice startles me out of my thoughts.

“I'm sorry, what?”

“You in love.” His brown eyes study mine for a moment before he leans back and starts another set.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t tell me I don’t know.” He leans towards me again, looking me over like he’s determining my worth. “I know love. And you…” He points his finger at me and raises his eyebrows. “You in it deep.”

“And you’re full of it.” I scowl and finish my set before moving off to another machine. I push myself to go faster, harder, while my muscles protest.

“So who is she?” Ramon plops down at the machine next to mine without even pretending to use it for what it’s there for.

“There is no one, Ramon. The only love I have is back home in my parking garage waiting for me to get back to her.”

He shakes his head and tsks at me. “I know you too well, hermano. The Corey who showed up the past two days isn’t the same one who was here the past year. Someone’s changed you. Someone’s gotten to you. You can deny it all you want, but it’s written all over you in big, bold letters.”

“What is it with you?” I demand, sitting up and glaring at my friend. “You and Matt. You’ve both been at me for days and I'm sick of it. Why don't you keep your damn opinions to yourselves?”

I don't care that the day isn't yet over. I can't take these two spewing their unwanted insights into my life. I let the weights drop to the stack with a resounding clash and am across the room before Ramon or anyone else can respond.

A quick run through the shower is all I allow before I'm dragging on my jeans and a clean shirt and heading out the door. I'm so sick of this, of Matt, of Ramon. Of Frankie. I don't need her. I'm not some lovesick puppy pining after a girl. I'm Corey Lucas. I can get damn near any woman I want, and for any woman who doesn't want me, well… That’s her loss.

Back at my hotel room, I throw my bag on the couch and grab a beer from the minibar. I stand at the window, watching the city's traffic, the people going about their lives. That’s what I need, to go about my life. Forget about Frankie. I'm not going to let one night change me. I take a deep pull from my beer, then one more. When the bottle is done, I throw it in the trash, grab my keycard off the table by the door, and leave.