Bases Loaded (Mustangs Baseball) (15 page)

There was a
telltale sound—God bless that chair—on the line then she picked up the
receiver. Tony closed his eyes and said a silent thank you to the universe.
He’d rather be in her office doing his convincing in person, but he had been
more than a little afraid she wouldn’t have listened to him.

“I feel stupid,”
she said.

“Don’t,” he
commanded. “Now, tell me about your panties. What color are they? Describe them
in detail.”

She sighed and
after a long pause where he again imagined she was going to hang up on him, she
said, “They’re light blue. Lace in front with a thong back.”

“You’re wearing
thong underwear?” His dick, already hard, throbbed as he imagined the scrap of
blue lace covering her and nothing else.

“Yes,” she drew
the word out, so it was a question and an answer. “I didn’t want panty lines to
show under my skirt.”

“So you wore
nothing so every guy on campus who sees your ass will think you aren’t wearing
anything under your skirt?”

“No. I wore a
thong so they wouldn’t see the outline of my underwear and know how big my ass
is.”

She was
exasperated, but he didn’t care if he was pissing her off. She was pissing him
off, too. “Your ass is
not
big. And I can assure you, with or without
panty lines, every man who sees your ass in a tight skirt is going to be
imagining what it would feel like against his crotch. The only difference is
when they don’t see an outline, they think there’s nothing but air between
their dick and your pussy, and that’s a fantasy all its own.”

“You’re
impossible,” she huffed. “I’m hanging up now.”

“No!” He tempered
the panic gripping him. “Don’t hang up. Please.”

“Are you going to
stop criticizing my choice of undergarments and tell my why I’m sitting here
with my skirt around my waist?”

Tony swiped a hand
over his face and stared sightless at the city filtered by gauze-thin curtains.
He’d gone way off track and almost lost her. It was time to back off and
refocus on the reason for this phone call.

“I’m getting to
that.”

“I don’t have all
day,” she said.

“Are your knees
under your desk?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Spread them
wide so they touch the panels on either side.”

“Okay.”

“Touch yourself.
Put your hand on your stomach and slide it lower, but don’t go under the lace.
Keep your fingers on top of the fabric.”

“Antonio.”

He ignored the
protest in her voice. “Do it for me. I want to touch you, but I’m not there, so
you’ll have to do it for me.”

Her chair creaked
again, and he closed his eyes, imagining her fingers sliding over the blue lace
panel. “Tell me what you feel.”

“Um…the lace is
rough on my fingers.”

“And your mound?
How does it feel?”

“Tingly. It sort
of hurts, in a good way.”

“That’s the blood
flow filling your tissues, getting you ready for my cock.”

A hissing sound
filled his ear. Her sucking in a breath?

“Two fingers now.
Use them to part your lips. Press the lace into the crevices, so the fabric
puts pressure on your clit.”

Another
unintelligible sound came from her end.

“You’re doing
good. Now, move your fingers up and down. Go lower. Are you wet?”

“Yes,” she
breathed.

“If I close my
eyes, I can smell your arousal. If I was there, I’d put my mouth on you and
taste you. But since I’m not, you’ll have to imagine it. Close your eyes and
imagine my face between your legs, my tongue gathering up your juices, flicking
over your clit, rough like the lace of your panties.”

God, he was going
to die for wanting her. “Rub yourself. That lace panel is my tongue.”

“Mmm….”

“That’s it, babe.
I’m right there with you, tasting you, making you feel good. You’re so wet, and
now your pussy is swollen and even more sensitive. You want me inside you, and
I want to be there more than anything. Move your fingers lower. Press the lace
inside.”

Her moan made his
knees buckle. He stumbled to the nearest chair and sat.

“I know. That
feels good, doesn’t it, sweetheart? But you need more. I can feel it in the way
your hips are moving. You need me inside you, not just my tongue.”

“Yes.” The word
was nothing more than a gasp.

“Move the lace
aside so I can see you.” He continued as if he were there. “I love your pussy,
especially when you’re horny for me, like now. You’re all pink, and slick with
your own juices. I can’t wait any longer, I know you want it, too.”

“Please, Antonio.”

He was dying. His
cock had passed aching to downright painful. He needed release as much as she
did, but his hand had recently become an unacceptable substitute for her pussy.
Hell, her mouth ran a close second, and if she ever trusted him enough, he’d
add her ass to the list and bump his hand completely out of the running.

“I’m here, babe.”

She had long, slim
musician’s fingers. “Find the rim with your index finger. Trace it all the way
around.”

Another one of
those sounds that came straight from her gut nearly did him in.

“That’s it. Two
fingers, babe. Put them inside. As far as you can get them.”

“Ooohhh.” A
whimper followed the breathless moan.

“Oh, God. You feel
so good. I have to move now. Out. In again. Hard.”

“Aahhh.”

Tony moved to the
edge of the chair and braced his elbows on his knees. Cradling his forehead in
one hand, he held the phone to his ear with the other and listened to the
erotic sounds of her finger fucking herself.

Shit.

Why had he thought
this was a good idea? She was getting off all right, but he’d be in pain until
he could sink inside her again. And that would be days, at best.

“So good, babe.
Feel me fucking you. Squeeze my cock. Yeah, just like that.”

Another whimper
told him how close she was.

“Use your thumb,
Clare. Touch your clit. You’re almost there. Reach for it.”

Torture. Pure
torture listening to her, imagining being inside her and knowing she was
pretending her fingers were him.

“I can’t stand it
any longer. I’ve got to fuck you hard. Do it for me. Hard. In. Out. Harder.
Shit. I’m going to come. Come with me.”

Tony gripped his
forehead hard enough to break bones. His fingers tightened on the phone,
threatening to turn it to dust. Sweat trickled down his jaw and along his
spine, and he was going to need dental work to repair the molars he’d ground to
nubs.

“Come for me, Clare.”

She made that
little choking sound in the back of her throat—the one she made when she came.
Then a string of sounds he had no words to describe, but were exclamations of
intense pleasure. In the background, her desk chair creaked in rhythm with the
short jerky movements of her hips as she rode out the orgasm.

Every muscle in
his body trembled with the effort to remain still, when all he wanted to do was
drive his cock into anything available. His hand. Sofa cushions. Throw pillows.
Hell, he’d fuck a keyhole if he could find one. He needed a cold shower. Or a
swim in the nearest frozen lake. Maybe he’d call room service for a couple of
buckets of ice and fill the bathtub. That might do it.

“Antonio?”

Ah, God.
The vulnerability in her voice nearly broke him in half. “I’m here, babe. I’ll
always be here.”

She sighed.

“Are you okay?” he
asked.

“Mmm. I’m good.”

“You’re perfect.”
He almost told her then, but when he said the words, he wanted to see her face.
It was the only way he could be sure she believed him.

“I’m a mess.”

“A beautiful mess.
Your skin glows for hours after an orgasm.”

“Oh!”

He almost laughed,
imagining her lifting her cum coated hand to her face. “Don’t worry. No one
will know,” he lied.

Every male, no
matter what the species, would recognize the soft expression on her face, the
flush of her skin. But he wasn’t going to tell her. Every man she encountered
today would instinctively understand she’d been claimed. The thought made him
feel marginally better.

“Take the panties
off,” he said, “and put them inside the rabbit’s pocket. They’re mine now.”

“Antonio.” No
warning, just a hint of acceptance.

“You’re going to
love Aspen.”

“We aren’t going
to see a single thing in Aspen, are we?”

“We’re going to
see plenty, but it will all be inside our condo. I’m going to look all I want,
explore every nook and cranny.”

“That’s what I
thought.”

“I’ll allow you to
do the same.”

He held his breath
until she sighed. “Okay. You win. I’ll cancel my plans for Thanksgiving.”

* * *

“Where are we
going?” Clare peered out the limo window. This was not the way to the airport.

“We need to make a
stop first. It won’t take long,” Antonio said.

She shrugged. If
they missed their flight to Aspen, she wouldn’t exactly be disappointed. Sure,
she wanted to spend time with Antonio, but the man still had blinders on when
it came to what she really wanted. He’d managed to deflect the conversation
about Bases Loaded every time it came up, and somehow he’d convinced her to go
on this trip with him. Not one of her finer moments.

They exited the
freeway and, after several miles, turned down what appeared to be a private
driveway.

Old growth trees
lined the roadway and dotted open pastureland as far as she could see. They
approached the end of the street, and a house came into view. Clare sat up.
From the outside, it was everything she’d wanted in a home, and she envied
whoever lived there.

“Where are we?”
she asked as they followed the drive to the back of the house.

“Home.” He exited
the car, not waiting for the driver to come and open the door. He extended his
hand to assist her.

Her spine
tingled—whether from his touch or the implication of that one word, she had no
idea. “Who’s home?”

“Ours,” he said,
smiling.

“What are you
talking about?”

Heading toward the
house, he pulled her along behind him. “I bought it. Signed the papers
yesterday.” Stopping at the back door, he stuck his hand in the front pocket of
his jeans and pulled out a Mustangs key ring with two keys hanging from it. He
held them out to her. “These are yours.”

He dropped the
keys in her palm and closed her fingers around them. “I have a set, too.” He
produced another key ring from his pocket and fitted a key to the lock. The
tumblers fell, and he turned the knob.

“Come on,” he
urged her through the open door. “See what you think.”

The backdoor
opened into a large, eat-in kitchen. Acres of granite countertops gleamed in
the light shining through the multi-paned bay window that looked out over a
beautifully landscaped backyard and created a natural alcove for a table. Oak
cabinets and restaurant quality appliances were enough to make a gourmet chef
weep with joy. She’d never seen a more perfect kitchen.

“What do you
think? Can you see yourself in here? Not that I’m insinuating you belong in the
kitchen or anything, but you know what I mean.” He walked to the windowed
alcove and turned to her. “Can you see it? A big round table here where we can
eat our meals and the kids can do their homework while they snack.”

Huh?
The
mention of kids, snacks, and homework snapped her back to her senses. “Have you
lost your mind?”

“No, I don’t think
so. Remember when we were looking at apartments? You said none of them were me.
You were right. Maybe they were the old me, but the new me wouldn’t be happy in
an apartment. I was very specific with the real estate lady about what I
wanted…well, what you said
you
wanted, in a house. Come on. Let me show
you the rest of the place.”

“Antonio.” She
crossed her arms and glared at him. “Explain yourself. Now.”

“I thought I just
did.”

“If you did, it
sounded like you bought this house for
me
, not for you.”

“I bought it for
us
.
I thought you would like it,” he said, pitifully.

Between the look
on his face, and the dejected tone in his voice, she caved. What would it hurt
to see the house, then she would break the news to him—he would be living here
alone.

After touring
upstairs and down they made their way to the front of the house where they
stood in opposite doorways opening into the limestone-tiled entryway.

“It’s lovely,” she
said, meaning it. If she could have picked her dream house, this would be it.

“I’m glad you like
it. I wasn’t sure about the inside, but you can change anything you want.”

“I’m not going to
live in this house with you. We’ve been over this before. I’m not the kind of
woman men like you keep around.”

“Yes, you are.” He
crossed to stand in front of her, his broad shoulders blocking everything but
him from her view. “What can I do to convince you?”

“How many times do
I have to tell you? You say you love me, but I’ve only ever asked one thing of
you, and you refuse to give it to me.”

“That’s because
what you want is something completely insane. I love you. I want to marry you.
And I don’t want other men touching you, much less running the bases with you.
You’re mine.”

The deep timbre of
his voice sent a thrill down her spine while the voice of reason told her to
beware of silver-tongued devils. He was so close the heat radiating off his
body reminded her of a furnace. His scent drew her in, called to her in a way
no other ever had. Her heart tripped and slid to her toes. It would be so easy
to believe his pretty words. But not today.

She sidestepped,
intending to put the necessary distance between them before the horny,
love-struck idiot inside her told the stubborn man how she felt about him.