Bases Loaded (Mustangs Baseball) (7 page)

Chapter
Eight

Two days had
passed since their spa date, and Clare hadn’t heard a word from Antonio until a
few minutes ago. Why wouldn’t he just leave her alone? She’d shown him more of
herself, literally and figuratively, than she had any other man—ever. She’d
shown him enough to send him running back to New York, she thought.

But he hadn’t run.
He was on his way up to her office.
Probably to say goodbye.
Well,
goodbye, yourself, Antonio Ramirez. Go find yourself a skinny-assed actress to
play the part of your wife. I’m through playing your games.

She shoved random
clutter into her file drawer and silenced the metronome tick-tocking away on
her desk. She never should have answered the call, but when his name appeared
on the caller ID, she had practically gone into cardiac arrest. She’d been
starved for the sound of his voice. Couldn’t get the feel of his hands on her
out of her head. Couldn’t breathe without missing his scent.

She had just
crammed the latest set of ungraded test papers into her briefcase when he
filled her doorway. One look at him and she realized she wanted nothing more
than to play every game in the book with him. If only he would ask.

Leaning against
the jamb, his arms crossed over his chest and one knee bent, he looked like a
billboard for sex.
Want sex? Call-800-Antonio
. Warmth flooded her
system, and she swallowed hard.

“You done, babe?”

She nodded, not
trusting her voice.

He straightened
and took a step inside, closing the door behind him. He folded his hands behind
his back and leaned his shoulders on the door. No one wore a T-shirt like
Antonio Ramirez. The fabric wasn’t tight, but it clung to his hard chest and
abs. He shifted slightly, drawing her attention lower. Tight jeans left no
doubt as to his state of arousal.

“I tried to stay
away. I tried to tell myself you needed time, that I could wait to have you,
but I was lying to myself.” One hand moved to the doorknob. “I want you. Right
here. Right now.” His index finger and thumb closed over the lock mechanism.
“If you feel the same way, say yes, and I’ll lock the door.”

Oh, God. Oh,
God. Oh, God.
Did she feel the same? Hell, yes! Her body throbbed with want
and need.

Her mind raced through
practicalities and details.
Here? What if a student comes by? The hell with
office hours. Underwear? Not sexy, but decent
. She’d shaved and trimmed
this morning—thank God. It was now or never. How many times would she get an
offer like this? Never again, she was sure.

She clenched her
hands into fists in her lap and squared her shoulders. So what if he only
wanted a fuck buddy until he found someone more to his liking in Dallas? She’d
have to be insane to turn down an opportunity like this.

“Yes,” she said.

Before she
finished the single syllable, he set the lock and pushed away from the door.

Her heart leapt
into her throat. This had to be a dream. Maybe she’d nodded off and her
subconscious was having a field day. She dug her fingernails into her palms
until the pain told her she was awake.

His legs made
short work of her small office. Her feet shuffled, spinning her chair to face
him as he rounded her desk. Antonio leaned over and placed his hands on the
arms of her chair, boxing her in and surrounding her with his now familiar
scent. Desire pulsed through her system.

“Don’t move,” he
said, sinking to his knees in front of her. He parted her legs and filled the
space with his body. A shaft of late afternoon light crowned his head,
burnishing his blue-black hair with gold highlights. “How much time do we
have?”

Her brain
scrambled for an answer. “Um…. My office hours are almost over, so…as long as
we want?”

His smile almost
melted her panties. “Oh, babe, you don’t know how happy I am to hear that.”

He cupped her
knees then slid beneath her skirt, up to where her underwear banded her thighs.
Clare stared at the bunched fabric covering his hands.
So close.

“These have to
go.” His thumbs brushed cotton, found the elastic at the top, and tugged.
Somehow, he lifted her and slipped the conservative garment to mid-thigh
without her help. Then they landed on top of her desk in a twisted heap, and he
was right back between her knees, only this time his fingers teased the short
curls beneath her skirt.

“Your skin is
silk. I could touch you all day, Clare, but I need to see you. The other day,
at the spa…I can’t get it out of my mind. Can I see you like that again?”

“Yes.” A slight
nod accompanied the whispered word.

“Unbutton your
blouse for me, babe.” His thumbs pressed between her legs then gently pulled,
opening the top of her slit. If he could see through the skirt fabric, he would
see her clit peeking out, begging for attention.

She lifted
trembling hands to the top button on her blouse. Dazed, she did as he said. One
by one, the buttons slid free. Cool air rushed in and caused her heated torso
to break out in goose bumps. When she reached the last button above the skirt’s
waistband, he said, “Pull it open for me. Let me see.”

His hands were
still beneath her skirt, lazily toying with her folds, her clit, driving her
insane while his gaze roamed every inch of exposed skin above. Her clit pulsed
and throbbed.

“Now the bra. Push
it up. We’ll unhook it later.”

She worked the
fabric upward so her freed breasts were framed by her bra on the top, her open
blouse on the sides and the waistband of her skirt below. Cool air hit her
nipples, and they tightened into hard points. Heat crept from her chest to her
face. She closed her eyes and bit her bottom lip while her hands gripped the
chair arms as if she were about to be launched into space.

Lord, what was she
doing? She’d had her share of horny professor fantasies, but never anything
that came close to this. Antonio had trapped her within his force field, almost
had her believing the things he said to her.

“You are so
fucking beautiful, babe.”

Pretty little
lies.

Moving quickly, he
took her right breast in his mouth, swirling the nipple with his tongue,
suckling hard. She arched her back, encouraging him to take all he wanted. She
held onto the chair in a death grip while he lavished attention on one breast,
then the other. He seemed to know just what to do to make her lose her mind.
She was wet, drenched between her legs. His fingers found her, plunged deep,
retreated, and plunged again.

She writhed
against his hand, sliding her ass across the seat toward him until she was
about to fall off the edge. He groaned, sending a shiver of pure carnal lust
from her breast to her pussy.

She ached for him.
Needed more than fingers and a solo orgasm. She didn’t think twice. She begged.

“Please.”

He released her
breast with an audible pop at the same time he withdrew his fingers leaving her
empty and beyond desperate. Before she could muster a protest, he stood,
lifting her as if she were a feather.

“Got to have you,”
he said.

Supporting her
with one hand, he shoved her chair out of the way and lowered her to the floor.

God, the man could
move fast.
Home plate to first base in three point nine seconds
. He
stood, stripped off his jeans and boots, yanked his shirt over his head, and
dropped to his knees between her splayed legs, wearing nothing but his socks
and a pair of white cotton briefs. He worked her skirt up to her waist and sat
back on his heels.

“I’m speechless,”
he said. “Tell me you want this.”

He was speechless?
He had a body every woman dreamed of—all hard planes and tight skin over
defined muscles. Flat, dark nipples punctuated powerful pecs. His ribcage, wide
at his chest, tapered to a slim waist and hips that would fit perfectly between
her legs. She’d never wanted anything or anyone more in her life. He made her
feel reckless and wanton, and the desire in his eyes made her feel beautiful.
If he never looked at her that way again she would take this moment and cherish
it forever.

“You better have a
condom.” She’d have to kill him if he didn’t. Where that bit of sanity came
from, she didn’t know.

He reached for his
jeans, fished a foil packet out of his pocket, and shoved his underwear down
his thighs. His erection sprang free. Her mouth watered. He rolled the sheath
on with the ease of a man who had plenty of experience and not an ounce of
self-consciousness.

The moment of
sanity was gone.

Clare lifted her
hips in invitation.

She wanted him
inside her.

Now.

His hands slipped
beneath her thighs, lifting and spreading her wide open. Then he was there,
pushing into her, stretching her, filling her. The angle allowed her to watch
his cock disappear inside her, one thick, pulsing inch at a time. She forgot to
breathe until he gave one final push and seated himself fully.

She arched her
neck and drew in a deep breath. He lowered her ass to the floor, bracing above
her, his forearms on either side of her head. His heat enveloped her and his
weight anchored her to the solid reality of his presence. His gaze met hers,
and her heart lodged in her throat. Fingers combed through her hair, fanning it
out around her in a move so tender it almost broke her heart.

“God, babe.
I…you…ah, shit! I’ve got to move.” His voice was tight, revealing the energy he
expended to take it slow.

She didn’t want
slow. She wanted hard and fast, and wild. She wanted
him.
But she
couldn’t say that, wouldn’t wish this experience away so quickly. But if he
didn’t move soon, she would die.

“Do it, Antonio.
Oh, God, do it.”

Sex had never been
like this. Ever. The man had super human control. He flexed his hips, eased out
of her as if it was the last thing he wanted to do. Then he plunged back in,
hard, the way she craved. She shifted her gaze to the ugly underside of her desk,
counted fossilized wads of gum in an effort to keep from coming. It was too
soon. Once he had his fat girl fuck, it would be all over, so she darned sure
wasn’t going to come after only a few strokes.

“I don’t know how
much longer I can hold out, babe.”

Disappointment
seared like a firebrand in her chest. She wanted to beg him to make it last,
but one look at his face, and she couldn’t stop her own release. Pinpricks of
heat radiated out from her womb all the way to her toes and fingertips. Her
body tensed then the rocket ship she’d been on since he stepped into her office
exploded off the launch pad, taking her into an alternate universe full of
streaking stars and exploding planets.

Antonio trapped
her cries, swallowing them with a kiss that demanded she surrender everything.
As if she had a choice.

She drifted back
to earth in a haze. Tiny aftershocks rocked her pussy, reminding her of his
solid presence still inside her.

“You slay me.” He
buried his face in the crook of her neck and, propped on his forearms, thrust
hard into her.

This was the power
she craved, had sensed he’d reined in, but with her, like this, he let go of
the reins. It felt wonderful, primitive, exciting. Each stroke caused her ass
to scoot on the carpet until her head bumped the caster on her desk chair.

He hissed through
clenched teeth then cursed. “Ah, sweet, Jesus!”

He ground into her
in short, hard thrusts, his cock pulsing with life. Clare dug her fingers into
his ass cheeks and held on. If she could make him stay inside her even a few
more seconds….

He collapsed on
top of her, sucking in gulps of air. She didn’t even care every breath he took
smashed her body between his and the floor. So what if she had a few broken
ribs? It was a small price to pay.

Holy shit.
He was in trouble.

Tony tried to roll
to his right, but there was no room between Clare and the desk. Taking care to
bring her with him, he rolled to the other side. His back came to a stop up
against the cold metal of a filing cabinet. His dick throbbed, still inside her.

After an orgasm
that felt like his guts had been ripped out, he shouldn’t be thinking about
doing it again, but he was. He felt like a fucking superman. His heart raced
like he’d downed a five-hour energy drink, and instead of getting soft, he was
rising to the occasion—again.

He held her close,
loving the feel of her skin against his. A man could get high on her natural
scent mingled with the heady musk of sex. He glanced at the goddess lying on
the floor next to him and silently cursed himself for an idiot.

He hadn’t even
bothered to take her clothes off. He was a world-class shit, coming into her
office and taking her to the floor without so much as a sweet word. He’d make
it up to her soon. Clearly, he wasn’t going to get her out of his system—ever—so
there would be plenty of time for sweet words and romance later. Right now, he
had to have her, and he didn’t give a rat’s ass there wasn’t a bed or so much
as a soft surface in sight.

“We’ve got to get
your clothes all the way off next time,” he said.

“Next time?”

Was that surprise
in her voice, or was she trying to be subtle about telling him there wouldn’t
be a next time? Good God, no. He rocked his hips against her. “Like, as soon as
I can put on another condom, next time.”

He held his
breath, waiting for her answer.

“You want to do it
again? Now?”

“Hell, yes.” He
rocked harder, so she couldn’t mistake his state of arousal. “If you’re okay
with that. I’ll take it slower, I promise.”

“I thought…you
would be done. Over it.”

Damn. Was it that
bad for her? He’d never had complaints before, but then again he wasn’t in the
habit of barging into women’s offices and practically demanding sex either. It
was a first for him, but she had seemed as eager as he was in the beginning. He
needed to set her straight.