Stealing Home: A Diamonds and Dugouts Novel (16 page)

They’d made enough noise that the whole bar was now looking at him, watching with avid curiosity. The only way Mark was going to get out of this was by force.

He tried to decide whom he wanted to deck first.

Peter appeared on the stage beside him and took the microphone out of the stand. He flicked the on switch and tapped his fingers on the mouthpiece. A resounding thump, thump, thump came through the speakers.

Mark glared at the pitcher. “You know I’m gonna kick your ass for this, don’t you?”

The dark-haired player laughed. “Yep. But it’s so worth it. Come on, Wall, show us what you’re made of.”

“I need a drink.” He tried to step down from the stage.

Kowalskin shot out an arm and stopped him. “No time, Cutter. The song’s loaded and your fans are waiting eagerly.” He looked around the bar. “Isn’t that right, everyone?”

Even the bartender shouted and applauded.

Mark surveyed the bar and saw all the faces watching him. Leslie let out a whistle from the back table and yelled, “You go, boy! Show us your stuff!” He vowed he’d get even with her for that.

Hoots and hollers came from his teammates and he realized there was no escape. He was stuck.

Mark slid his gaze over the crowd until it landed on Lorelei. She’d moved off to the side and was leaning against the wall, a fist pressed against her mouth in an attempt to hide her smile. It wasn’t working—he still saw her laughing at him.

He’d show her.

He reached for the microphone and yanked it out of Peter’s grasp. “You’d better not have given me a chick song.”

The pitcher pointed to the monitor where the name of the song was displayed. “I did. The eighties at its best, man.”

“You’re a dick, Kowalskin,” he said after he read the title.

“So they tell me.” Peter raised his arms in the air and announced to the bar, “The one, the only Mark Cutter will now present us with a song.” The bar erupted in applause and whistles.

Hopping from the stage, Peter melted into the crowd of onlookers and hollered, “Give ’em hell, tiger!”

L
ORELEI SHUDDERED WITH
suppressed laughter. Mark looked so damn uncomfortable all alone up there on stage. He just kept staring at the monitor in front of him and scowling. When the music started she understood why.

Instantly she recognized the song and burst into a fit of laughter. Everyone else in the bar recognized it, too, the hoots and hollers escalating to a frenzy. Mark was going to sing one of the most famous chick songs of the eighties.

“Hungry Eyes
.
”

The theme song from eighties blockbuster
Dirty Dancing
starring Patrick Swayze. One of the best romantic movies of the decade. She could remember the song playing on the kitchen stereo when she was a kid. Swinging her hips to the tune had made washing the dinner dishes go by in a flash.

Dear God, how bad was he going to butcher it?

She watched Mark shrug his shoulders as he did during a game and roll his head from side to side. Then he raised the microphone and said into it, “All right, here goes.”

Lorelei waited with trepidation for the first notes, tensed for Mark to tank big-time. She closed her eyes and flinched when his mouth opened. She couldn’t help it—he’d finally made her afraid.

A rich baritone with a raw, sexual edge greeted her ears and her eyes popped open and zeroed in on the stage. Mark was watching her and grinned when her gaze met his.

He could sing. Holy crap could he sing.

Her mouth dropped open in shock and she pushed away from the wall. His voice started soft and easy as the song began, seducing her through the speakers.

Shouts of encouragement came from a group over in the corner as he neared the chorus and his voice grew stronger, more emotional—rougher. It filled with real desire as he started singing about having hungry eyes.

The banked passion from earlier flared hot again as she watched Mark brace his feet apart and roll his hips suggestively, getting into the moment. A round of whistles followed, but she barely registered them.

All she could hear was Mark.

Her stomach took a long, liquid roll when his eyes locked on hers and he began singing directly to her. Need, desire, carnal lust—everything he felt was in his gaze, written across his face as the words of the song became his personal message to her, his plea. No man had ever wanted her that much before. Something shifted inside her, cracked. Without a fight she opened herself, let him in.

When the interlude came and saxophone wailed through the speakers, Mark placed the microphone in its holder. Then he raised a hand toward her, his palm to the ceiling, and crooked a finger at her. Beckoned her to him.

She went.

His hand wrapped around hers and he pulled her onstage into his arms. The bar went wild. Yells, whistles, catcalls.

She didn’t even hear.

Mark surrounded her, a strong arm wrapped around her waist, the other dove into her hair and fisted. Then his mouth was on her and he was kissing her. Hot, wet, demanding.

He tore his mouth from her and lowered his head until his lips caressed her ear. “It’s time, Lorelei.” His voice shook with his need.

She nodded. “Yes, it’s time.”

They were gone before the song was over.

Chapter 17

H
IS HANDS WERE
everywhere the second the door closed behind them. He had to touch her. If he didn’t he’d go crazy. Hell, he already felt crazy. For Lorelei.

They stumbled together in the dark hotel room. He roomed alone and hadn’t pulled the drapes open earlier. Mark tore his lips from her. “I can’t see. Shit, I can’t see a goddamn thing.” He tried to find the light switch on the wall.

He felt her hands race over him, searching until she found his hand. She placed it on her breast. “Feel your way, bad boy.” His hand squeezed in reflex.

“Jesus.” The air rushed from his lungs.

Her other hand stroked up his stomach and she tore at his shirt. Buttons popped open and her mouth was on his throat in an openmouthed kiss. Her tongue licked his skin, burning a path down his chest.

It nearly buckled his knees.

With his free hand he gripped her hip, walked her toward where he remembered the bed to be. She tripped and they went down hard. Reacting instantly Mark grabbed her arms and turned until he hit the floor first and she landed on top of him. The wind was knocked out of him and he grunted. Lorelei sprawled across his chest and he heard her whoosh of air.

Then she was laughing.

He found his voice. “What’s so funny?”

“It looks like I’ve fallen for you, Mark.”

A rush of heat pooled in his gut, twisted it in a tight knot. God, he wished it were true. He suddenly wanted Lorelei to be falling for him in the worst way. The thought of it set his heart racing.

They had their issues. No doubt about it. And they had secrets from each other. Didn’t know every detail about each other, or even birthdays and all that trivial bull.

But he’d be damned if he didn’t want Lorelei to fall for him. He wanted it bad. Because like a fool he was falling for her. In a way that he never had before. For anyone. She pulled emotions from him that stole his breath away and made him think of picket fences and buying a puppy.

She slid over him until she was straddling him on the floor in the dark. He could barely make out her silhouette in the near blackness. But he could feel her. How he could feel her. Her heat, the weight of her, the hands that seared a path down his bare chest. And it turned his cock to stone.

“I’ve wanted to do this, wanted to run my hands over your hard body, Mark.” Her voice was husky with arousal. It washed over him and settled in the pit of his stomach.

He tried to reach for her. “I want to touch you, Lorelei. Kiss every inch of your gorgeous body. I’ve been going crazy with wanting.”

He growled when she stopped his hands. She pushed them to the floor with a laugh. “Uh-uh. I get to do this my way, Mark. Now lie there like a good boy and keep your hands to yourself until I tell you otherwise.”

If he didn’t get inside her soon he was going to go insane. Or come right there in his jeans. “I can’t wait. I want in you.” Her fingers skimmed low over his stomach and he hissed, “
Now
, Lorelei.”

She reached his fly and pressed her palm over his hard-on. She sounded amused when she teased, “My, my, aren’t we in a hurry?” Her hand squeezed him through the denim. “I thought professional athletes were trained to go the distance.”

He rocked against her. A groan tore from his throat as she stroked him with a sure hand. “Later. I’ll go the distance later. Right now I need to be inside you. God, Lorelei, if you don’t stop that I won’t even make it that far.”

His breathing grew ragged. He was tuned into her every movement in the darkness. Lightning skittered along his nerves, his senses heightened to an almost painful alert. When she undid his fly and took him in her hands it was almost too much. He arched helplessly into her and ground out, “Hell, yeah.”

“You like that?” She ran her palm up his shaft and gripped him. Her thumb slid over the head and rubbed a bead of moisture into the sensitive flesh and he nearly lost it. She moved over him; he heard rustling, could tell she was taking her clothes off. Unable to hold back anymore his hands reached for her, slid over her hot, bare skin.

He had never felt like this before—like a wild animal. Something primitive tore through him as his hands cupped her full breasts and she moaned. He flicked the pad of his thumb over her nipples. A sharp tug pulled low in his stomach and his groin ached so bad it throbbed. He didn’t want it end, knew it would.

“Mark, kiss me,” Lorelei demanded in a low whisper.

He flexed his stomach muscles and sat up, ran his hands over her to fist in her silky hair. A growl rumbled in his chest when his mouth found hers in the dark and he fed her a hot, hungry kiss. She moaned. He yanked her head back and trailed openmouthed kisses down her throat. She arched against him as his mouth covered her breast and he sucked her nipple.

He held her like that as he tongued her hard peak and cupped her other breast with a hand. They were perfect, full and ripe and darkly sweet. He wanted to devour her.

It didn’t matter that she’d stolen from him, that he still didn’t know why. All that mattered was her ragged breathing and the nails that bit into his shoulders telling him she was turned on. That she was ready for him. But there was something he had to do first.

L
ORELEI FELT
M
ARK’S
toned body flex, the hard muscles bunch, and then she was on her back. He was looming over her in the darkness, his erection rubbing against her crotch. She bit her lip when he shoved roughly against her. It might have hurt if she wasn’t so turned on. Instead, it sent tremors shooting off inside her like fireworks.

“Now you’re in for it, sweetheart. You’re going to pay for teasing me,” Mark growled against her neck.

God, she hoped so.

Power still swam in her brain like a heady concoction. She’d made him hard, mad for her. Her. Lorelei Littleton. It made her drunk from the knowledge.

She’d needed to know how much she affected him. Though she’d been teasing earlier it had been the truth. It didn’t matter that it was the stupidest thing she could do, that it ruined everything, all her plans. She couldn’t help it.

She was falling for the catcher with the fast hands.

A gasp escaped her when Mark’s hand undid her zipper, dove inside. Through her cotton panties he cupped her.

“You’re wet, Lorelei. Your panties are soaked with your juice. I can smell it on you, your desire for me. But I want to hear you say it. Tell me how you feel,” he demanded.

In the darkness, lying on the floor, she felt his fingers rub her through her panties and she groaned. He slipped a finger around the cotton and found her. Touched her where she wanted him the most.

“Say it, Lorelei. Tell me you’re wet for me.” His mouth found a spot below her ear and he kissed her there. His tongue slid over the curve of her ear and he nipped her with his teeth. She moaned and arched into his fingers.

“I’m wet, Mark,” she whispered. Her stomach turned to liquid. She felt like she was about to burst into flames.

He trailed a searing path of wet kisses down her chest. His tongue flicked over the hard peaks of her nipples before he continued on his path. “No,” he said against the flat of her stomach, “tell me I make you wet. That I make your pussy ache. Say the words, Lorelei. It turns me on to hear those dirty words come from your pretty mouth.”

He was making demands, trying to shock her. Instead, her arousal only grew hotter. She thrilled at the dirty talk, her body responded to the call of it. Responded to him.

She went wild. “You make my pussy ache, Mark. I want you inside me now. Only you have what I need.” It was true.

His gravelly laugh echoed in her gut. He pulled his hand from her pants and yanked them off. Her panties followed. He disappeared for a second. She heard him strip and the sound of foil tearing as he covered himself. Then he was back and his hard hands were running up the length of her bare thighs. His hot breath whispering across her skin. He traced a finger over her wet curls. “That’s right, baby. Only I have what you need. But not yet, Lorelei. You tormented me, now it’s my turn. Ask me again. Ask me again what you did at the bar.”

Lorelei reached for him, touched him everywhere she could reach. Arms, shoulders, the back of his head. He blew on her crotch and her body ignited like a flash fire.

She knew what he wanted to hear. “Do you want to kiss my pussy, Mark?”

His answer was swift and hard. “Fuck, yes.”

Then his mouth was on her in a hot, wet, openmouthed kiss. A sound of primitive aroused male tore from his throat. He found her clit with his tongue, rubbed over it in circular motions, sucked. Lorelei thought she was going to die from the feel of it.

When her inner muscles starting to clench and she neared orgasm, Mark shifted. His toned athlete’s body covered her and the plump head of his erection pressed between her slick folds.

This was what she wanted, craved. She needed to go over the edge. Hunger clawed deep in her belly and she arched her hips. With a ragged groan he sank into her. His thick shaft stretched her, filled her, and she gasped.

“Oh God, Lorelei. You’re so tight around me.” He thrust deep and her inner muscles clamped around him, started to quiver.

He kissed her and she could taste herself on his mouth. His tongue thrust inside, over hers as he started to move in slow, long strokes.

She didn’t want slow. Raising her legs, Lorelei wrapped them around his muscular back. His hard body strained from exertion as she took him deeper still until she felt him against her womb.

Nothing else existed. Only the man above her and the thick erection stroking into her.

“I want more.” She bit his corded neck and he swore.

“You want more?” He panted, his breath harsh.

“Yes!” She raked her nails down his back. He responded with a growling sound deep in his throat.

And he gave her more, his body pounded into her harder, faster. He gave her more until every nerve in her body sparked like an electrical current and need became a white-hot ball in the pit of her stomach. Until all she could do was feel, cling to Mark.

Their breathing grew more ragged. Over and over he thrust into her until suddenly she gasped. Crying out in the darkness, her body burst and an orgasm tore through her. It flooded through her, over her as her inner muscles convulsed against his shaft. Her body sucked him in, pulsed around him until he pushed deep and went still. A groan tore from his throat and his body went rigid as he climaxed.

They lay there afterward not moving, their breathing rapid, their hearts pounding. Neither spoke for a long while.

Later his hand stroked over her hair and he shifted. “That was utterly, completely amazing.”

It was more than amazing for Lorelei. It was the best sex of her life. Incredible, earth-shattering, mind-blowing sex.

They’d damn near set the room on fire. And she couldn’t have felt better about that if she tried.

Mark rolled off her onto his back. His arm reached around her and he pulled her against his side. “I suppose one of us should turn on the light,” he murmured.

His fingers trailed a lazy path up and down her arm. Her palm flattened against his damp chest and she rested her head on his muscular shoulder. “No. The dark’s nice.” She couldn’t get up if she wanted to—her thighs were still trembling.

His chest rumbled when he chuckled. “Yeah, you’re right. The dark’s nice.”

He shifted slightly under her and she felt one of his hands run over her hip down to her knee. Gripping gently he lifted her leg and settled it over his. She nudged his testicles and felt the crisp hair covering his heavy thighs tickle the sensitive skin of her leg. He kept his hand on her knee.

“When’s your birthday?” His voice was the rough, deep sound of satisfied male.

Idly her fingers began to explore his chest. “May twelfth. When’s yours?”

“November fifteenth. How old are you?”

So he was a Scorpio. Didn’t that just figure? She vaguely remembered reading his birth date on his bio page, but she’d forgotten about that little fact. “I’m twenty-eight. Why do you ask?”

Firm lips pressed against her forehead and he sighed. “Just curious is all. I figure I need to know these things. Women tend to get upset when you don’t know.”

The warm, contented afterglow that had settled over Lorelei abruptly disappeared. She was sure that he hadn’t meant to, but that comment had just reminded her who Mark Cutter was. He’d probably had to remember a lot of birth dates in his lifetime.

She tried to sit up, but he tightened his arm around her like a vise. A heavy leg tangled with hers and clamped down. She couldn’t move.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

For air
.
But she didn’t think he wanted to hear that so she said instead as she settled back down, “Nowhere, just getting more comfortable.”

His grip loosened and he relaxed again. His hard leg rubbed over hers in a slow rhythm. “You want to get on the bed?”

Her body and mind melted. Not particularly. It felt incredible in his arms. Even the doubts couldn’t overshadow that. She had a fleeting thought about why that might be, but it dissolved into nothing when his fingertips skimmed her bare back. His touch felt decadent against her skin.

There would be time later to think on things. “No, I’m fine,” she said.

They were quiet for a moment, their even breathing the only sound in the room. Mark began stroking her arm with his fingers again. It felt so good she closed her eyes and sighed. Let her hand glide over the dips and planes of his corrugated stomach. He had such an awesome body.

“Lorelei?” he said quietly.

“Hmm?” Her fingers reached springy pubic hair.

“What do you do for a living?” He sucked in air and his stomach muscles quivered beneath her hand.

It mildly surprised her that he was asking. That he was interested in her beyond a bout of sweaty sex. She decided to take that as a good sign. “I write articles for gardening magazines.”

“You mean like stuff on how to grow tomatoes and keep bugs from eating your flowers?”

She gave a low laugh. “Something like that. It’s a little more exciting than that to me, but that’s the idea.”