He’d drawn her nearly to the edge, to that moment when her body ruled her mind, and she couldn’t remember her name. The man had left her hanging. How unfeeling could he be?
She made a fist and punched his arm. “Jerk,” That didn’t sound angry enough. “Asshole.” That was better.
He snagged her hand midair before she could slug him again. He kissed her palm. A touch of his lips, a flick of his tongue. Her skin heated. Her stomach softened. He trapped her within her own need once again. Left her all alone and longing for him. She would make him pay. Later, after the movies.
Ry glanced at his watch, noted the time. “Sunset in thirty minutes,” he predicted. He gave her a slow once-over. “I need a quick shower after my run.”
She waited for an invitation to join him. He held back and stepped around her. There was purpose in the way his arm brushed her breast, the way his hip bumped her own. She set her back teeth and entered the cottage behind him.
Atlas awaited them. A dozen toys littered the foyer. He tilted his head, looked at Rylan.
“How sorry are you?” Ry asked him. “These aren’t even your best toys, buddy.”
The Dane took off in a flash. He skidded around the corner between the living room and hallway, and they heard the sound of a door opening. He’d gone into the closet where his toys were stored.
He returned a moment later, and Beth swore she heard him sigh. He laid the sockie toy she’d made for him at Rylan’s feet.
The gesture was significant. A peace offering. Beth’s chest tightened.
Ry hunkered down, picked up the balled socks. “You’re most prized possession,” he noted. “Forgiven.”
Atlas had heard the word more than once and knew he was off the hook. Rylan barely managed to stand before Atlas rose on his hind legs, put his paws on Ry’s shoulders, and licked his chin.
“Definitely a shower.” Rylan gave Atlas a knuckle-rub on the head.
Atlas was an Indian giver. The second he dropped back down, he retrieved the socks, took off for the old couch, and stuffed his sockie toy in one corner.
Ry shook his head, went to clean up. Beth decided to change clothes, too. She chose a pale blue tank top and her new Levis. Rylan had fumbled with the button fly the night before. She’d do her best to slow him down again tonight. Let him sweat a little.
Rylan came downstairs in a Barefoot William T-shirt, board shorts, and leather sandals. His hair was damp. His eyelashes spiked. He turned on the TV for the dogs. To keep them company. He set the digital clicker on the bookshelf. “I don’t dare leave the remote with Atlas. Not too long ago, he hit a button while I was away, and I came home to pay-per-view porn.”
They left the house. Ry made one additional stop in the garage. He collected the beach chairs and loaded them in the SUV. Parking was scarce when they arrived at the beach, and they were forced to walk a few blocks. The night air was cool, but comfortable. They stopped at a kiosk on the boardwalk and loaded up on soda and snacks.
Beth couldn’t believe they were going out together. He hadn’t called it a date, but it felt like a date. She was happy, very happy. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected at the pier, but the number of people surprised her. There were both families and couples. Chairs were snugged tightly together with armrests overlapping.
“It’s better than the drive-in,” Ry said as they maneuvered the narrow path along the railing. He knew nearly everyone, and his friends made room for them.
Beth looked around for Shaye and saw her setting up for the movie. Her husband Trace was by her side.
Full darkness descended.
Frozen
started at eight sharp. The crescent moon didn’t interfere with the movie. Neither did the lapping of waves along the shoreline overshadow the soundtrack.
This is better than any movie theater,
Beth thought when Rylan reached for her hand. Their fingers laced. She felt comfortable with this man.
Numerous parents and children left after the Disney animation ended. Bedtime beckoned for those facing school on Monday. It was mostly adults who lingered for
Anchorman
. Couples sat closer. Kisses were exchanged.
Ry leaned over and nuzzled her ear. His voice was low when he asked, “Do you have plans for after the movie?”
“Possibly,” she answered.
“With me?”
“No, with Atlas.”
“You’re going to make me beg, aren’t you?”
“Bow-wow, big boy.”
Ten
R
ylan
barked
for Beth’s benefit when they entered the cottage. He was begging for her attention, and he got it. His dogs joined in. Their howling chorus echoed off the living room walls.
Beth covered her ears, laughed. She gave the dogs each a treat to calm them down. Atlas got two. Rue and the dachsies soon settled on their dog beds in her bedroom. The Dane took to his couch. Snoring told them that he slept. Deeply.
The night finally belonged to Rylan and Beth. He had plans, which included condoms. He took the stairs to his bedroom, scored a handful of protection, stuffed the latex in his pocket.
Once back in the living room, he located the television remote on the bookshelf, then made his move on Beth. He pulled her down beside him on the massage chair. They fit just fine.
He eased his arm about her shoulders, and she curved into his side. He liked her initiative. The way she stretched her arm across his chest, hugging him. She crossed one leg over his, rubbing her knee high on his thigh. A sexual tease.
The lady fascinated him. She’d been shy and vulnerable when she first arrived in Barefoot William. A week at the cottage, and she’d slowly come into herself. She had a ways to go. Still, he found her funny and snarky. She put him in his place—which no woman had before.
Baseball groupies tended to fawn and favor whatever a player wanted. They were accommodating. Embarrassingly so. Beth had a mind of her own. She told him what she thought, and he listened.
Satisfied with her closeness, Ry flicked on the TV and channel surfed, looking for a show they would both enjoy. They liked westerns, and he settled on
Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid
. But ten minutes into the show, he was far more interested in Beth than with Butch, Sundance, and the Hole-in-the-Wall Gang.
She’d begun touching him lazily, taking pleasure in turning him on. Her hand flattened on his abdomen, and her fingers found their way beneath the hem of his shirt. The tip of one finger circled, dipped into his navel, and then skimmed upward. Over the tight flesh on his ribs to his male nipples. His muscles flexed. He grew hard.
He wanted her bad. It had been a day of tease and touch. She’d landed atop him in the yard earlier. He’d later pressed her against the side of the house. They’d held hands and snuck kisses at the outdoor movie. He wanted to complete what they had started.
There was a time to think about doing something, and a time for actually doing it. He lowered the sound on the TV and tipped back the massage chair. He set the dial on low heat and medium vibration. Her body hummed when he rolled on his side and faced her.
He pressed soft kisses to her forehead and cheek. “I’ve been waiting for you all day,” he breathed against her mouth.
“There were lots of delays,” she agreed.
“Too much going on.” He nipped her chin. “This is our moment. Let’s get naked.”
She liked his suggestion. They reached for each other, and their clothes came off without resistance. He managed her button fly with newfound ease. There was no modesty. Only appreciation. Anticipation ran high.
The moment his mouth came down on hers, every hard muscle in his body went into overdrive. He was hardwired for this woman. He lost control, and she let herself go, right along with him. They were wild for each other.
Feel. Respond.
His kiss stripped away her common sense.
Give. Take.
He lost all thought to sensation.
His mouth devoured hers. Yet she was the first to slip him her tongue. He sucked it deeply into his mouth. They tangled.
Their naked bodies pressed, rocked together.
He felt oneness with this woman.
Tension sparked electric. An urgency skittered across their nerve endings. She dragged her hands down his back, stroked his buttocks. Then skimmed her fingers over his hip, dipped lower, and found his sex. She stroked him, cupped his balls, squeezed. He nearly came in her hand.
Shifting, he rolled her beneath him. He kissed down her body. Back up again. His breath glazed her skin. Her body pulsed against his mouth. Her taste drove him crazy.
He bit her inner thigh.
Left a hint of a love bite on her belly.
Her full breasts, the dusky tips, were next. He closed his mouth softly around her, tugging with his lips. He blew gently where he laved, and watched her shiver.
She strained against him. Wanting him.
He was there for her. He leaned over the side of the chair, shook out his jeans, and the condoms fell from his pocket. Scooping one, he allowed Beth to sheath him. Her fingers trembled. He swallowed hard.
Once fitted, he parted her thighs. He pressed into her. Her fingers dug into his shoulders as she rose to meet him. He drew back and rocked forward, moving in tight. Locking them together.
The sensation of being inside her while looking into her eyes transcended time. The blue mirrored the intensity he felt. Sensation coursed through him and into her. Their bodies throbbed. Ached. They were anxious. Impatient.
It became a race toward fulfillment.
Their eyes closed to everything but the moment.
He held nothing back, thrusting into her with a steady, insistent rhythm. His head swam. His chest burned. He could barely draw breath.
She gave him complete and utter surrender.
Their pleasure found voice. She moaned. He growled.
Their orgasms rose on a sexual swell.
His climax followed hers.
They drifted down, sated, satisfied. Sleepy.
They gathered their clothes, and closed out the night in his bedroom.
Morning came too soon. Rylan sensed something wrong when he first wakened, and he soon realized what caused his concern. Beth wasn’t in his bed. The side where she’d slept was neatly made. Pillows were stacked and the sheet and comforter were straightened. He glanced at his bedside clock. The alarm had yet to sound, but only by ten minutes.
Spring training started today. The first practice was at nine. His body felt loose and alive. Fluid after sex.
He had Beth to thank for a great night in bed. The lady had stamina for someone so small. He couldn’t get enough of her. Sadly, from now on their time together would be limited. His involvement with the team took priority.
He would look forward to his nights with her. He did plan to spend one or two evenings at Driftwood Inn, just to make sure the ballplayers kept it sane. He didn’t want them getting out of hand—which Halo and Landon had been known to do. Zoo, too. They were always ready to party. Cards, drinking, women. Rylan needed to be around to make sure they didn’t embarrass themselves. More than normal. There’d be no repeat performances of his teammate’s skinny dipping in the hotel pool or playing strip poker at the bar. Videos went viral, and they didn’t need that kind of publicity. Not in his hometown, anyway . . . if it could be avoided.
He grabbed a shower, dressed, and headed downstairs. He found Atlas and gang at their bowls eating breakfast. Some kind of pasta, he noted, as the big dog had a shell noodle stuck to his nose.
“What can I fix for you?” Beth was standing at the sink. Her cheeks pinkened when she turned to face him. Her smile was soft. Her eyes very blue. A yellow bandana captured her curls. She wore his Rogues T-shirt with the hem tied in a knot at her waist.
He’d hoped for her bare ass, but got cutoffs instead. Win some, lose some. “What’s on the menu?” he asked, as he drew a stool to the island, sat down.
She opened the oven door and a delicious scent escaped. “Organic banana almond bread.” She took the pan from the oven, set it on the counter to cool. “I can also make oatmeal with brown sugar and slice fresh fruit.”
It all sounded good. Oatmeal stuck to his ribs. Had he been there by himself, he would have gone with rye toast and headed out the door. Beth’s offering was so much better. He was damn hungry after their marathon night of sex. She poured him a cup of coffee. Went on to prepare his food. She served him before the dogs were done eating. Atlas barked for seconds.
Beth was ready with the drool towel when the Dane finished. She shook her head when she picked up his bowl and held it up for Ry to see. “I hid one pea in his veggie pasta to see if he’d eat it. He didn’t.”
“He has discriminatory tastes.”
“It’s a tiny pea.” She was amazed. “Rue and the dachshunds love them.”
“In truth, Oscar not so much,” Ry corrected her. “He spits out more peas than he eats, then scoots them behind his bowl.”
“Little sneak,” Beth said to the dachsie. She cleaned up those he’d pushed aside.
“What do you have planned for today?” Ry asked her.
She fixed herself a bowl of oatmeal and joined him at the island. “I had early morning texts from Shaye and Dune. They’ll be by the house around ten. Shaye to pick up her croquet set. Dune will dismantle the volleyball net.”
“Don’t let Atlas help Dune,” Ry warned. “He’s gotten himself wrapped in the netting and chewed his way out.”
“Grocery shopping is on my list. We need condoms.”
He grinned at her. “We?”
“You use them with me.” She tapped her spoon on the edge of the bowl. “I saw on your monthly calendar that you plan to host a dinner for the starting lineup the first week of spring training. I’ll make a reservation, if you like. Time, place?”
Dining with his teammates built camaraderie. Disagreements and arguments were left in the parking lot. They’d bond over beer and barbecue. It was two hours of live and let live. A night of sarcasm, raw humor, and boasting. Too much food. Way too much drinking.
He debated the restaurant. “Chubby’s or Pitmaster are both good. See if one will provide a private dining room. The guys can get loud. I don’t want to disrupt other diners.”
“You also had dog beach pinned to today’s date,” she said.
Dog beach
drew Atlas’s attention. He’d been lying at Beth’s feet and popped his head up, listening. Attentively.
Rylan finished off his oatmeal before saying, “There’s a really neat cove at the northernmost point of Barefoot William. Private family property. Two fenced acres. A crescent-shaped coral reef protects swimmers from danger. The water is only ten feet deep, shallower than most swimming pools. The dogs will have time to swim before it gets dark. They can eat afterward.”
Her eyes widened. “We’ll have the beach to ourselves?”
He nodded. “Send out a text to my family members, reserving beach time at six. I like to warn them that we’re coming. Atlas gets really excited when he sees other dogs. He goes beyond a simple greeting and tackles them.”
“Do all the dogs swim?” she asked.
Rylan grinned. “Rue loves the water. The dachs run from the incoming waves, then chase the outgoing ones. Atlas”—he rolled his eyes—“floats like a barge, heavy and unmoving. That’s if he’ll go in the Gulf. They all wear canine float coats.”
Beth chuckled. “This I have to see.”
“We’ll take the Range Rover. I’ll lower the backseat into a deck. Toss in rubber mats, and we’re good to go. Tomorrow you can take the SUV to a car wash. Have both exterior and interior cleaned.” He glanced at his watch. “Time to take off.”
He rose, gathered his coffee cup, bowl, and plate and set them in the sink. He turned and found Beth staring at him. Her eyes were a vivid blue. Her expression soft, wishful.
There was no denying her look. He knew in that instant that she cared for him.
Really
cared. Possibly even loved him. Where were they headed? he wondered. Beyond today. He couldn’t wrap his head around tomorrow.
They were physically compatible. Unbelievably so. He’d never been so hot for a woman. He enjoyed her mind and wit. But one obstacle still stood between them. Trust. He awaited the day she could speak of her past and not cringe or withdraw. Once the air was fully cleared, they could move forward.
He crossed back to her, tipped up her chin, and kissed her. Flecks of brown sugar dusted her bottom lip. She tasted sweet. “See you later.”
The dogs trailed him to the door. He had always made a big production of telling them good-bye. He never wanted to leave without their knowing he would be back. He gave them his word. They wagged their tails, promising to be good.
He drove the McLaren to the stadium. The sports car hummed with a similar vibration to the massage chair. He pictured Beth naked and beneath him—and nearly ran a red light. He hit the brake. Hard. Skidded to a stop. He cleared his head, focused on baseball.
He parked in the players’ lot and made his way to the locker room. Pitchers and catchers preceded the fielders’ arrival. They already had a week of warm-ups and workouts under their belts. His teammates were all in attendance. No stragglers today. Anticipation burned the air. Their restlessness was tangible. The guys were ready to play ball.
The players greeted him with high-fives and thumps to his back. Ry noticed the starters’ asymmetrical haircuts. Zoo had gone with a Mohawk. No one cared. His head was still shaved.
Ry located his locker, changed into his practice uniform. He felt Halo staring at him,
really
giving him the eye, and looked up. “What’s on your mind?”
Halo smiled, too broad and too knowing. “What’s on your chest, bro?”
Ry glanced down. He’d yet to button his jersey. Heat circled his neck when he spotted what Halo had already seen. The hickey near his left nipple. He hadn’t noticed the love bite during his morning shower. But damn if it wasn’t there. A definite bruise.
Beth
.
He kept his cool, buttoned up, and covered with, “Atlas jumped on me.”
Halo knew his hickeys. He told Ry so. “That’s not a paw print. Those are lips.”
Rylan dropped down on the bench and put on his cleats. Halo took a seat, too, a bench away. Landon wandered down the aisle, looking for eye black, the grease applied under the eyes to reduce the glare of the sun. He found a stick on the top shelf in Halo’s locker. Lifted it without asking.