Drive You Wild: A Love Between the Bases Novel (24 page)

Paige shot a glance at Crush, who was fighting back a yawn. She knew that her father had already written off Trevor. “It should make a difference, Nina,” she said, “but it probably doesn’t. He did still attack that man, even though it was to protect your father.”

“He told you that?”

“Yes, he told me. He made me promise not to tell anyone, though.”

“I can see why.” Crush laughed cynically. “It makes you look stupid when you try to explain yourself nine years later.”

“That’s not the reason why!” Nina surged from the couch, fists clenched like a vengeful blond fairy. “And he didn’t do a bad thing. That’s what I’m trying to tell you.”

Crush pushed his stool in a slow half twirl. “I’m sure there’s a sad story in there, Nina, but none of it makes a difference now. You’re wasting your time here.”

“Dad!” Paige jumped to her feet and placed herself between Nina and Crush. “At least let her finish her story.”

“He confessed to the attack because of me! For me!”

Paige swung around to face Nina. “What are you talking about? He was trying to keep your father from getting killed.”

“No! He was calling 911 when it happened. He didn’t hurt that man. It was me.”

“What?”

Even Crush had gone still and watchful. “Explain.”

“Those horrible men kept coming around the pharmacy and the house, and I hated them. Every time they came, Dad would get weird and quiet and refuse to say who they were. I just had a bad feeling, so I started following him. I felt like nothing too bad could happen if I was watching. That night, he went to the pharmacy and so did I. And I brought one of Trevor’s baseball bats because it made me feel safer. When I walked in, that man was up against my dad, like he was going to kill him, and I just swung that bat as hard as I could.”

Tears flowed down her face in thick smears.

“He dropped down to the floor and I just stood there, still holding the bat. Trevor had been working with me on my swing. We used to play in the vacant lot on the corner . . .”

She trailed off, tucking her chin into her chest. Maybe for some people it felt good to unburden themselves, but that didn’t seem to be the case for Nina.

“What happened next?” Crush asked gently.

“Two other Wachowskis were outside in a car, and they came in. Trevor was there too, because my dad had asked Trevor to meet him at the pharmacy for backup. He’d already called 911, so the police were on the way. I was totally freaked out, and so was my dad, but Trevor fixed everything. He told the Wachowskis that he’d hit the man, and that he was going to tell the police it was all his fault. No self-defense because that would have implicated the Wachowskis. Since he was only fifteen, he figured the justice system would go easier on him than on my dad. The only thing he asked my dad to do was send me somewhere safe, out of Detroit. He was afraid I wouldn’t be able to keep the secret.”

She blotted her eyes with her thumb. “He was right. Obviously. It’s hard to live with yourself when you know your big brother is paying for your actions. And now he’s lost his contract, and it’s all my fault. I just . . . hate it. I don’t want to lie anymore. If they come after me, I’ll run, I’ll hide, I’ll do whatever I have to. But I’m not going to ruin Trevor’s life any more than I already have.”

I
T SEEMED TO
Trevor that he’d barely put his head on the pillow when the banging started. Groggy from the long, emotional night, he tried to block out the hammering as long as possible, but finally gave in and rolled out of bed.

“Paige,” he mumbled as she stormed past him. She was a blur of blue jeans and a clingy green top that had him rethinking the whole “sleep” thing.

“Trevor,” she shot back, whirling on him with her hands on her hips, hair fanning behind her. “You lied to me.”

He racked his brain for
which
lie she might be referring to. “I was going to call you about the Friars as soon as I woke up.”

“I’m not talking about the Friars.”

“Okay.” He rubbed a hand across the back of his head. “What’s going on?”

“Nina came to see us.”

His head snapped up. Paige’s angry presence seemed to send wild sparks around the dull hotel room. “My sister Nina?”

“Yes, your sister. The one who
actually
attacked someone with a baseball bat. The one you took the fall for.”

He turned away, his mind spinning a mile a minute. Maybe he could still fix it. Say she was being an overprotective younger sister. That she was delusional, that she was too young to really remember what happened. He’d figure something out.

“Trevor, why didn’t you tell me?”

“I have to talk to her. Where is she? I don’t know what she’s thinking, coming here and telling stories.”

“Trevor.”

He felt a hand on his arm and jerked away. This was wrong, all wrong. Nina thought she could change this situation, but she couldn’t. If anything happened to her . . . A sudden rush of air exited his lungs—a sort of gasp, or a wheeze, something that didn’t sound like it should be coming from his body. He hunched his shoulders, feeling the muscles of his back pull wide, the hawk spreading its wings.

And then softness came against his skin, arms wrapping around him, hawk and all. He felt Paige’s cheek against his back, her hands on his bare chest. “It’s going to be okay, Trevor. No one’s going to hurt her. You don’t have to do this alone. You have me, and Crush, and lots of other people.”

Another sound threatened to erupt from his chest. He quaked with the effort of holding it back. It felt as if his rib cage was a dam of bones holding back a wall of water. It built and built until it towered over him. In a blinding rush, it swept him off his feet, and he staggered. Paige held him, murmuring soft words, keeping him anchored against the force of the emotions storming through him.

Maybe he cried, or maybe he didn’t. Maybe he just let the lost years wash through him. He didn’t really know, all he knew was that he held tight to the window frame and Paige held tight to him, and when his vision cleared, everything looked different.

“I guess she had to tell someone.” His voice scraped like razor blades against his throat.

“Yes,” Paige agreed. “She’s a brave girl.”

“She always was. That’s why I didn’t mind taking the rap. If I’d had the bat, I would have done the same thing, except I probably would have killed the guy.”

“Why didn’t you just tell the police the truth? They wouldn’t have sent a twelve-year-old to jail.”

“We weren’t afraid of that. We were afraid of the Wachowskis. They don’t care about details like age or gender. You mess with one of them, you pay.” Trevor touched his stomach, realized he was drenched with sweat. He still couldn’t look at Paige; he felt too exposed.

“Then why didn’t your father take the blame? He was the one who got you into the situation to begin with.”

He shook his head wearily. Why relive the nightmare? It was dead and gone. “Dad was the only security Nina had. I was only fifteen. Nina still needed a home and a father, such as he was. He promised he’d send her someplace safe, get her away from the Wachowskis. It was the best thing all around. For a while I hated him for it. But then Grizz said something to me once.”

He swallowed hard, remembering.

“Grizz said that sending me away was probably the hardest thing my father had to do, but that it was the only way he could ensure my safety. Then again, I have a scar on my back that says I wasn’t that safe.”

“You made the best out of that scar.” Her cool fingers traced the outline of his hawk. Her touch sent shivers across his skin. She spread her fingers apart, the thumbs at the inside corners of his shoulder blades, her fingertips feathering his upper arms. Desire stirred, a bird rising from the ashes. “You made the best out of a
lot of things. You watched out for your sister. You made a baseball career happen.”

He gave a dry laugh. “For a while.”

She skipped past that. “You try to help kids who are facing the same sort of problems you did.” Those clever, magic fingers stroked down the outside of his arms. Blood sank to his groin, his cock reacting to each soft caress.

“Where are you going with this?” he murmured. Wherever she was going, he’d follow, as long as she kept touching him like that. Biceps, elbows, forearms, each body part coming to life under her palms.

“I wish you saw yourself the way I do. You’re not a badass.” Her hands flexed to cover the backs of his big slugger’s hands. She interwove her fingers with his. “Well, not
just
a badass. You’re also a hero.”

He jerked back against her. “I’m no fucking hero.”

“Oh no? What do you call someone who goes to prison for something they didn’t do, just to protect their little sister?”

“You don’t get it—” He turned, determined to make her take those words back. But as soon as he met her eyes, filled with all the magic and light that was Paige, he lost his train of thought.

She gave him a little shove with one hand, then let it linger on his chest—as if she knew that her touch was turning everything inside molten. “I get it. Why wouldn’t I get it?
You’re
the one who doesn’t get it. You’re stuck in this idea that you’re a bad guy. And I hate that because I love you, and I know I’m not in love with a bad person. I’m in love with an amazing, incredible, loyal, strong, protective, phenomenal person.”

“No. No.” He shook his head over and over. “It’s you. You see the good in everyone, that’s how you are. Even after I pushed you away, after I acted like an ass
hole, you still do. Whatever good you see in me, it’s because of
you.
”

She tossed her hair, planted her hands on her hips, a righteous goddess in denim shorts. “Are you saying I’m delusional? That I can’t see what’s right in front of me? I mean, maybe you’re right, given my history with Hudson. I must be blind, right? That’s the only explanation there could possibly be for these crazy off-the-wall things I’m thinking—”

“This has nothing to do with him,” he said. The mention of Hudson made him crazy. Something shifted inside, some primal instinct coming to the fore.

“No, this is about you and me. You said to bear with you, and I believed you. I believe
in
you. But now I don’t know what you’re saying, and—”

Clearly, the only way to make her stop talking was to kiss her. He snatched her against him, one arm wrapped around her waist, bending her over. Her beautiful blue eyes went wide with shock. “My turn. You, Paige Mattingly, are the best, absolute
best
thing to ever happen to me. I love you. I love you like I didn’t know a person could love. You’re everything light and wonderful and real and perfect. I want you, I want to be whatever you need. I want to make you laugh and smile and moan and drop your clothes the second we’re alone. I want those things. I love you. But look at me. I’m an unemployed minor league washout with a juvenile record and a target on my back.”

But he didn’t get to finish all the reasons she shouldn’t be with him because she smiled that wide grin and nearly stopped his heart. “You love me?”

“I love you.” He staggered under his armload of sweet, passionate Paige.

“You
love me
?” Her face lit up with so much sheer delight that he couldn’t help laughing.

“Is that such a surprise? You’re fucking irresistible. You’re like catnip or pancakes or a cold longneck on a hot day.” He grinned, feeling as light as a long ball hitting the air currents.

She swatted him on the back of his head. “You can’t compare me to beer. That’s not romantic.”

“I’m a guy. You want to know what romance is to me?” Still holding her in place, plastered against him, he walked her back toward the bed. When he got there, he tossed her onto it. Her hair fanned across the beige bedspread in rich waves alive with glints of copper and bronze. “Romance is the way I want to strip you bare. I want to kiss every bit of your skin. Especially the parts that make you squeal. Romance is how I want to fuck you until you forget there ever existed any man but me. You’re mine, Paige. Everyone else can go to hell, because it’s you and me now. We’ll just have to figure out the rest.”

P
aige’s heart felt like it would burst out of her throat and soar to the ceiling. Trevor was looking at her the way she’d always dreamed a man would—with complete and utter want. As if she was the only thing that mattered, or would ever matter, from now to forever. As if she was beautiful and absolutely necessary to his survival.

He kneeled on the bed next to her and wrapped his fist in her hair. His lids went to half-mast. “You know something, Paige? There’s no part of you that doesn’t feel perfect to me. I don’t know how you do it. It’s like you’re the only woman I can see anymore. The only woman I want to see. You’re like the sun blotting out all the other stars.”

“You’re crazy,” she whispered.

“Too bad. You can’t back out now. You’re with me,
Paige. You’re mine, and I’m yours.” From the way he looked now, passion and devotion written in every line of his face, it was impossible to believe that anyone ever saw him as ice cold. His eyes weren’t crystal clear, the way she’d first seen them. Now they shone like the sun blazing through stained glass.

“Yes,” she whispered, knowing the word was just the last piece of the puzzle. She’d been his for some time. It had happened mysteriously, without her knowledge, but irrevocably. “For better or worse.”

A shadow fell across his face, and she kicked herself for ruining the mood. “I vow to you, Paige, that I’ll do everything in my power to keep my crap from hurting you.”

“You don’t get it, do you, Trevor? If it hurts you, it hurts me. We’re together in this. I want your dreams to be mine, and my dreams to be yours. Equals.” She touched his chest, traced her fingertips across the hard ridges that turned her on so much. Her mouth watered, and she lifted her eyes back to his, letting him see all the desire and need he inspired.

After that, he made love to her with single-minded intensity. He didn’t let her do a thing. Every time her hands fluttered to touch him, he firmly chained them together with one strong hand. He worked his fingers under her jeans, the tightness of the fabric adding an extra layer of pressure. When he felt her wetness—she’d been aroused since that first “I love you,” he made a sound like a snarl of satisfaction. Pulling off her jeans and soaked panties, he spread her open. After staring at her for so long that little prickles of anticipation skittered across her sex, he bent down and buried his face between her legs.

“Oh God,” she moaned, twining her legs behind his head. “That feels . . . oh my God, Trevor . . .”

It felt as if every stroke of his tongue, every flick of his teeth, every press of his fingers, was saying the same thing.
I love you. I adore you. I live for your pleasure
.

She came almost right away, unable to hold back the rolling tide of her climax. But that was just the beginning. When that talented tongue went to work on her nipples, maneuvering the fabric of her top across the sensitive tips, she reached a level of frantic she would have found embarrassing if Trevor wasn’t urging her on with hot words.

“Tell me how good that feels. Tell me what you want. You want my cock? You want it hard for you?”

“God, yes,” she gasped.

“Touch it.”

Reaching blindly toward his hips, she felt hot velvet against her fingers. Thick, so incredibly thick, hard and urgent, jumping beneath her feather strokes.

“You want that cock in your mouth?” It drove her wild when he talked dirty like that. In answer, she shifted her position, angling her mouth over his erection. She sucked him into her mouth, her throat, her very being, nearly mad with wanting him. With his big hands on the back of her head, he cradled her, adjusting her pace with his fingers. His panting breaths and murmured curses filled her world, the scent of his skin making her dizzy. She surrendered to the rhythm consuming her body and soul, made herself into a vehicle for his pleasure. She stroked his muscular ass as it flexed, let her fingers drift toward the soft sacs of flesh between his thighs.

So vulnerable, in the end.
You need me, Trevor Stark. And I need you.

Just before he reached his peak, he pulled his erection from her mouth with a soft pop and spread her back open, flat on her back, legs wide. “I need to be
inside you,” he muttered. “Now, before I fucking explode.”

“Yes,” she agreed, since nothing in the world could be better than that. He slipped on a condom and entered her inch by slow inch.

“I’m so hard right now, I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t.” Her inner channel clung to him, the friction making her eyes roll back in her head.

“Oh my God,” he groaned. “Paige, you have no idea what you do to me.”

And the world fell open around them, wide and glorious and free.

A
fterward, Trevor fetched a washcloth and carefully tended to both of them. Feeling fresh and deliciously cared for, she brushed a strand of gold hair away from his face.

“Crush wants to make you an offer,” she told him.

He frowned, and she felt a moment of regret that she had to bring reality back into things. “If he’s thinking I can be a coach or front office, no way. I’ll figure something out, I don’t need your dad trying to save my ass.”

“Honestly, I think he’s trying to save his, and you’re just a side benefit.”