Seducing the Fireman (Risky Business) (7 page)

Pushing her T-shirt up, he dropped to his knees, licking the stretch of skin from her belly button to her breasts, noting the goose bumps that raced across her flesh. He rubbed his palms over the tiny bumps, warming her with his touch. Looking up at her, at the way her eyelids drooped as she gave herself
over to pleasure, he knew it was time to find out just how thick those leggings were. She’d had a long day and she deserved nothing more than a moment of unbridled pleasure, something he was more than happy to provide, if she’d let him. Bringing his mouth to the place where her legs joined, he sucked on her clit through the thin material.

The whimper that followed was music to his hears.

Bringing his left hand around, he used his fingers to massage her in concert with his tongue, growing frustrated by the fabric separating them. She was mewling with satisfaction, hips rocking, but he needed more. Needed to touch that slick heat of hers, to taste it, to fill it completely.

“Take your pants off, Becca.”

She hesitated.

Dropping his chin to his chest, he rested
his forehead against her belly. He was out of control. Taking her in a place like this? What the hell was he thinking? She deserved better than a romp in the backroom of some sketchy warehouse.

Her hips shifted.

“What are you doing?” he asked, looking up at her.

“Isn’t it obvious?” she asked, her words heavy with need. “I’m taking off my pants.”

All right then. He wasn’t
about to deny her. Not now, not ever. Jax climbed to his feet and fused his mouth with Becca’s. She opened herself to him immediately, her tongue skating over his as she wiggled her leggings down to her knees.

“Good enough,” Jax told her, dropping a hand to her sweet spot. She was hot, slick, and ready. Without warning, he plunged two fingers into her wet heat, earning a moan that told him
she liked it very much. His cock throbbed with his own need, but he’d take care of that later. This moment was about pleasuring Becca. “That’s right. Tell me what you like so I can make it good for you every time. I want to know what gets you hot so I can make you come for me.”

“
Jax
.” His name was a breath on her lips as he pumped his fingers deep inside of her, hooking them forward and
angling for the spot that would give her the most intense orgasm. He rolled his thumb over her clit, applying more pressure as she rocked her hips against him.

“Do you like it when I fuck you with my fingers?”

“
Yes
,” she panted, grasping his shoulder for support, or maybe just to ground herself in the moment. “Don’t. Stop.”

She was close, spiraling toward release. With her head
thrown back and lips parted, she was the wild beauty of his dreams, the one he knew would only let go like this for him. Her body clenched him tight as the shockwaves of pleasure rocked her to the core. She arched her back into him, holding on as if he were the last shred of sanity in a world gone mad. And in the dark warehouse, her moans of ecstasy carried through the night with complete abandon.

Jax kissed the top of her head as he withdrew and helped her adjust her pants. Despite the orgasm that had just rocked her body, she looked at him with uncertainty, once again retreating from him
.
“We should go.”

Once Becca was situated in her car, with her cell phone, he tapped on the window. She rolled it down, looking apprehensive. “Thanks again for dinner…and everything else.”

He reached out, stroking her cheek and loving the way she melted at his touch. “I told you, it was my pleasure.”

She leaned her head back against the headrest, eyes closed. The day had taken its toll. Even after their little tryst in the back room, she looked exhausted. “What we did…it has to stop. We can’t do this again. It’s not…right.”

Biting his tongue, he swallowed a snarky
reply that would just start another argument. Why she insisted on fighting this thing between them was beyond him, when it was clear they had more chemistry than the periodic table.

“Drive carefully.” He kissed her lightly, catching her off guard. Her eyes shot open. “I’ll see you Saturday.”

“Saturday?” Her brow wrinkled in concentration. A frown tugged at the corners of her mouth.
“All right. I’ll bite. What’s Saturday?”

“Didn’t Chris tell you?” He grinned and stepped back from the car, seeking a safe distance, outside her striking zone. “I’m joining Mancini’s softball team.”

Becca slammed her fist on the steering wheel and punched the button to close the window. It rose slowly, not nearly quick enough to prevent him from hearing the string of four-letter words
that would have her doing penance from now until the end of time. He waved as she backed out of the parking lot, enjoying his hard won victory. Because if he knew only one thing about Becca Mancini, it was that she was going to make him pay on Saturday.

Chapter Nine

Becca laced up her cleats, cursing Jax and his pushy, meddling ways for the eight thousandth time. After letting him give her another sinfully good O at the photo shoot, the last thing she wanted to do was face him on the bench. She’d played every card she had in an attempt to back out of the game, but Christopher wasn’t having any of it. He’d even cut her off before
she could try the old “remember when” guilt trip, which was usually her ace in the hole and reserved for the direst of situations. That was the problem with siblings. They always knew your angle and which buttons to push in order to get their own way.

As the team captain, he’d guilted the shit out of her, reminding her the team was required to have three women in the rotation to avoid a
forfeit. Then, to make sure she wasn’t a no show, he’d piled on with an endless diatribe about the team standings. For the first time ever, Mancini’s was undefeated. So, yeah, while she wanted to be anywhere but on the field today, here she was.

Maybe she’d get lucky and Jax wouldn’t show.

Fat chance. Like hell he’d miss an opportunity to torture you.

Slinging her bag over her
shoulder, she slammed the car door. Jax would be there. No doubt about it. The real question was why had she let him get in her pants again? The sex wasn’t that good.

Denial much?

Fine. The more likely answer was that she was clearly a glutton for punishment. Because no matter how good the man made her feel
right now
, there was only one way it could end. A fact she needed to remember
if she didn’t want him to break her heart again. He wasn’t in it for the long haul, and soon enough he’d move on.

Figuratively and literally. The fourth date jinx. It happened every time. Apparently she just wasn’t built for relationships.

Dropping her bag in the dugout, she jogged to the outfield where the team was warming up. Making a point of avoiding Jax, she settled into the grass
as far from him as possible and pulled up her socks, spreading her legs to stretch her calves.

“Nice of you to join us,” Christopher said, slinging a bat across his shoulders and twisting at the waist. “Cutting it a little close aren’t you?”

“Don’t tell me you were getting nervous?” she asked feigning surprise. “Afraid
you
were going to have to pitch against Brooklyn Tire and Rubber?”

The team laughed because, yeah, the idea of Christopher pitching was that damn funny. He couldn’t find the strike zone with GPS. Climbing to her feet, she began stretching her pitching arm.

“We need you on your game today.” He took a few practice swings with the bat. “You know they’re going to be riding your ass.”

“When am I
not
on my game?” She hated it when Christopher was right.
BT&R always gave her shit.
Always
. And if she let those meatheads get in her head today, Mancini’s could kiss their record good-bye. “Too bad you can’t say the same, coach.”

The Mancini’s crew had been playing together for a couple of seasons, and the team was accustomed to the endless sarcasm the siblings hurled at one another. It was all in good fun and, as often as not, helped ease the
tension before a big game.

Christopher pointed at Jax and told him, “No funny business. I don’t know what the beef is with you two, but do not make me sorry I put you on the team.”

“Hey, man, I’m just here to play ball,” Jax swore, holding up his palms and looking anything but innocent. When Christopher turned away, he actually had the nerve to wink at her. And damn if he didn’t look
good doing it.

“Don’t even start,” she warned him, realizing too late she was only fueling the fire.

“What?” He climbed to his feet and dusted himself off, his Under Armour shorts doing little to mask that divine butt. “I’m just wondering how the Frankie I knew, a girl who was hands down the clumsiest kid this side of Manhattan, grew up to be Mancini’s star pitcher.”

“Well, gee,
when you put it like that…” She turned and stalked toward the dugout. “You’re an ass. You know that, right?” she called over her shoulder, flipping him the bird.

Jax laughed. Of course he did. The guy was like Teflon. Nothing stuck. “Can’t wait to see what you’ve got, Mancini!”

Blood thrumming through her veins, she didn’t bother to look back. No way in hell would she give him the
satisfaction of putting her off-balance, or making her feel like that awkward teen again. She’d grown into her body, and she was the best damn pitcher on the team. Besides, it wasn’t like she needed his approval. Even if it would be sweet revenge to see him eat his words.

A low whistle carried across the field. She cut her eyes at the home team’s dugout. Apparently she had bigger things
to worry about than Jackson Hart—like the lunkheads from BT&R who were eyeing her up like a prime side of beef. Meeting their stares, she lifted her chin and slowed her breathing. The last thing she needed was for those jerks to think they’d gotten her hot and bothered.

Once the teams had finished warming up and the coin had been tossed, Becca found herself on the pitcher’s mound staring
down the third out. Like the three batters before him, he was talking trash and trying to distract her from the runner on second, who seemed to be thinking about stealing third.

Good luck with that. Once the ball crossed home plate, Christopher would be gunning for him. No, better to focus on her pitches than the runner. He wasn’t as fast as he thought he was, and she’d struck out the last
two batters with her knuckleball. The current batter had a full count.

Time for a changeup.

“Hey, sweetheart.” The batter spit and stepped into the box. “You get me in scoring position, I’ll drive you home.”

How original.

Thank God she’d skipped lunch or she might’ve vomited in her mouth. Gripping the ball tight, she placed her index and middle fingers on the seam as she
wound up and let it rip. The ball sailed across the plate, curving to the left as he swung.

Thwump!

The ball hit Christopher’s mitt, putting a smile on her face.

“Why you gotta do me like that, baby?” The batter flashed her a smarmy grin, his beady eyes far from amused. Apparently he didn’t like striking out with a woman—on or off the field. Fine by her. She didn’t like getting
hit on by skeezy dirtballs. “You just let me know if you change your mind. I’ll see you at the plate.”

Becca shuddered and stepped off the pitcher’s mound, her cleats digging into the dirt as she made her way across the field. She hated playing BT&R. Most of the guys were cool, but the ones who weren’t? They left her feeling like she’d bathed in a deep fryer.

The team crowded into
the dugout, and she found herself on the bench next to Jax.

“Nice pitching.” His thigh brushed up against hers, creating a spark of electricity that went straight to her belly. Or maybe it wasn’t his touch that had her stomach fluttering but the sheer fact that he’d paid her a compliment. That was probably it. Frankly, it was a wonder he didn’t choke on the words. “Can’t wait to see what
you can do with a bat.”

“Looking for pointers?” She smiled sweetly. No way was she going to let Jax get the upper hand again. It was too dangerous—to her resolve and her heart. “I’d be happy to show you a thing or two.”

…

Jax cut his eyes at the pitcher as Becca stepped up to the plate. The guy had been harassing her since she first set foot on the field, and he’d had about enough
of it. If that asshole muttered one more sleazy comment—or looked at her ass again—he was going to. Lose. His. Shit.

Trading barbs was part of the game, but there was a fine line between friendly competition and the asshole zone. BT&R’s pitcher had crossed it about twenty minutes ago. Truthfully, Jax hadn’t liked him from the outset. The first time he’d caught that creep staring at Becca’s
pert little ass in those tiny shorts he’d felt something hot and ugly twisting in his gut.

Climbing to his feet, he hooked his fingers through the chain-link fence that protected the dugout from fly balls. Becca planted her back foot in the dirt and raised her bat. If it weren’t for the tension in her shoulders, she might’ve looked at ease. But he knew better. The way she held herself? It
was a sure sign she’d also heard enough from the douchebag on the pitcher’s mound.

Actually, he was kind of impressed she hadn’t lit the guy up yet. God knew she never missed a chance to tell him where to shove it. If it went on much longer, he’d step in himself. The guy needed a lesson in manners, and if no one else was up the challenge, he was more than happy to give it.

Chris joined
him at the fence. “Give ’em hell, Frankie!”

The ball sailed across the plate, curving to the outside. Becca held her position.

“Strike!” the ump called.

The team booed, and Jax joined them, knowing full well it was a good call. Becca adjusted her position.

“What’s the deal with this prick?” he asked, nodding at the pitcher. “Things change so much in the last ten years you
don’t protect your own anymore?”

Chris snorted. “In case you haven’t noticed, Frankie’s not a kid anymore. She can take care of herself. Watch.”

“Tell you what, sweetheart,” the pitcher called, his voice carrying across the field. Jax tightened his grip on the fence, the metal digging into his fingers. Who the fuck did this guy think he was? “I’m going to take it easy on you, give
it to you straight. You think you can handle it?”

“Less talking, more pitching.” Becca narrowed her eyes and dug in her back foot.

The ball sailed over the plate, and true to his word, it was a straight pitch. She brought her bat around, and it connected with a sharp
crack!
Anyone else would’ve been swinging for the fences, but not Becca. She nailed a line drive right at the pitcher.

He hit the dirt, landing face first.

Dropping the bat, Becca hauled ass to first, beating the centerfielder’s return throw. Dusting her hands off on her shorts, she gave an apologetic shrug to the pitcher that had “sorry, not sorry” written all over it.

Chris smirked. “Like I said.”

Jax let out a low whistle. “Remind me not to mess with your sister.”

“You kiddin’ me?”
Chris asked. “She’d rip your nuts off and eat them for breakfast. New York’s Bravest? She’d put that shit to the test.”

He studied his friend. How would Chris react if he made his intentions known? Hell, the way he was grinning, maybe he’d already figured it out. “I’m willing to take my chances.”

“You and Frankie, huh?” Chris laughed, shaking his head in disbelief. “Good luck, man.
That girl goes through men like most women go through friggin’ shoes. No guy ever makes it past three dates.”

“Three dates?” Good to know. He always worked best with a goal, and the more he could learn about Becca, the better his odds of making it to date number four.

Of course, he still needed an official first date, since, orgasms notwithstanding, she wanted nothing to do with him.
“I can work with a three-date rule. Anything else I should know?”