Over the Fence: Lyssa Layne's Baseball Romances (25 page)

BOOK: Over the Fence: Lyssa Layne's Baseball Romances
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“Meeting someone?” I ask.

Her silky hair is pulled into a loose ponytail and has white dots in it. Surprisingly, I find myself oddly aroused. I do love a woman who isn’t afraid to get dirty. My grin widens as I picture Mia doing dirty things to me.

“Actually, I am and I’m late,” she answers, her lips turning down.

I try to hide my disappointment and play it cool. “Me, too. I’m only in town for the day to find a house and I’m thinking my realtor stood me up.”

The color drains from her face and she bites her lip in this amazingly sexy way that makes me want to bite it too… then tear off those paint covered clothes of hers and have my way with her.

In a breathy whisper, she says, “Tate James… of course.”

Fuck, she knows who I am. Like a punch to the groin, I feel sick to my stomach. I’m not sure why it matters but I wanted this girl to want me for me, not for the nationally known baseball player that I am. Giving a quick shrug, I reply, “Maybe….”

She straightens her shoulders and extends her hand in my direction. I’m confused, didn’t we already introduce ourselves last night? Granted I only gave her my last name. I take her hand and raise an eyebrow.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. James. I’m Amelia.”

I don’t want to let go of her hand, but anger rolls through me. She lied about her name and now she can’t even show up on time. I shake my head and turn away from her. My mind races between leaving this woman behind me and wanting to kiss her at the same time. I feel a light touch on my back and that damn vanilla scent mixed with latex paint hits my nose.

“I’m sorry I was running late. It’s extremely unprofessional of me but my partner stood me up and I was stuck painting an entire thousand feet of living room by myself. It’s no excuse, I know, but please let me help you find your new home.”

My back burns where she touches me through my cotton t-shirt. Shaking my head, I laugh. How can I be mad at her? I don’t even know her, yet I know she could get away with murder and I’d still be attracted to her.

Slowly, I turn around. “You told me your name is Mia.”

She nods. “It is. Mia is short for Amelia. At work, my clients call me Amelia but all my friends call me Mia.”

I raise an eyebrow at this statement. She takes the Starbucks cup from me and grabs my hand, pulling me back into the coffeehouse. She looks up at me, her smile reaching her eyes. “So what you do say? Let’s be friends and I promise I’ll find you your dream home.”

We get to the front of the line and she orders me a refill while getting her own latte. I don’t even realize I’m still holding her hand until she finally pulls it away to pay. As we wait for our drinks, she watches me, waiting for an answer. Taking in those long lashes and seeing her trying to hide a smile, I realize I want more than to get her in my bed.

I grab our drinks and turn to her. “Fine, friends.”

She squeals and it’s the sweetest sound I’ve ever heard. She pushes off her tiptoes and kisses my cheek. My heart races at the touch of her lips on my skin and if it weren’t for the drinks in my hands, I would have pulled her lips to mine and devoured her. Laughing, I nod toward the door so she can lead the way and I can get a nice view of her backside. Once outside, I hand her the latte and take a sip of my coffee. She starts listing off different neighborhoods and areas of towns we should visit. Suddenly, I’m not in the mood to house hunt.

“First things first, Mia. Let’s go finish that painting you started.”

She looks at me confused and I love the way her nose is scrunched up. I can’t help it when my index finger touches the end of her nose. I move my arm around her shoulders. “Friends help friends. We’ll finish your project first then start mine.”

I can tell she’s about to argue with me so I put my hand up. “Either let me help you paint or I find a new realtor.”

She narrows her eyebrows and purses her lips, the perfect kissing pose, but I behave myself. With a quick roll of her eyes, she concedes, but insists she drives. I follow her to the parking lot and as we step off the sidewalk, she says, “There’s one perk of L.A. for you.”

“Oh yeah? What’s that?”

“In a town full of A-list celebrities, so you’re more likely to blend in,” she says with a nod ahead of us. I laugh as I see a gaggle of women swarm Zac Efron. Mia presses her key fob and a sleek, silver Corvette Stingray blinks its lights. She turns to me with a grin and my jaw drops.

“Like it?”

My eyes go wide and I’m worried drool might be falling down my chin. In a trance and unable to look away from the shiny machine in front of me, I slowly nod. She tosses me the keys. This woman. I shake my head. The surprises just keep coming and I love it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER 3

 

Mia

 

Judging from the drive across town, I think it’s safe to assume that Tate is a fan of fast cars, and apparently fast women as he implied last night. His tongue hangs out the side of his mouth as he concentrates on cutting his paintbrush in at the baseboard. Seeing his tongue and his eyebrows furrowed, is a little bit of a turn-on. Okay, it’s a lot of a turn-on.

We’ve been painting for over an hour, but I haven’t even noticed as I’m learning all about this mystery baseball player that I can’t get out of my mind. Turning back to the roller that’s still spraying white paint all over my hair, making me look like a grandma, I ask him to tell me about the kind of house he’s looking for.

After putting his tongue back in his mouth, he shrugs and glances in my direction before he answers. “Nothing too big, a pool would be great. Definitely a deck so I can grill, a few bedrooms for guests, security system, nice view—”

Laughing, I interrupt him. “So you want it all?”

He grins and nods. “Pretty much. I heard you’re the best in the field so I have no doubt that you can find exactly what I want.”

Raising an eyebrow, I ask, “Oh? Who’d you hear that from?”

He stands up, dragging his hands over his jeans and pulling his undershirt up to wipe the sweat off his forehead. I get a clear view of his six-pack abs and suck in my breath. Reaching in the cooler, he hands me a bottled water and shrugs. “Word gets around.”

Taking the cap off, I take a long drink. “So you make your bedmates stay in the guestroom when you’re done with them?”

The shock on his face instantly reminds me that he’s a client, not the guy at the bar and my face blushes crimson. He looks down embarrassed, avoiding eye contact until he finally says, “About last night… I’m not that kind of guy either. You just… I don’t know, there was this attraction and—”

I cut him off, moving the short distance between us and crush his lips with mine. Instantly, his hands grab my waist and pull me against him. Despite the denim barrier between both of us, I can feel his excitement. I tilt my head to get a better angle at his plump lips that I’ve been craving since last night. He parts his mouth and my tongue slips over his.

Tate’s hand moves into my hair and pulls out my ponytail holder. My hair falls down my back and his mouth moves to my ear as he starts to pepper kisses down my neck and across my collarbone. I tilt my head back as his lips send me into a frenzy. My chest heaves as I try to catch my breath.

“Tate…we should…stop,” I say, making no effort to stop him and letting out a moan as his hand squeezes my breast. I feel him nod against my chest, but his hands continue to knead my sensitive mounds. Pressing my glossed lips together, I try not to moan again.

“Okay…Mia…I’ll…stop,” he says as he pinches my nipple through my tank top and I let out a low
mmm
. The look in his eyes tells me that he’ll stop if I want him to, but I know neither of us want that. I take a step back to put space between us and inhale deeply.

Tate runs his hand through his hair, smearing a white streak of paint through his dark locks. I bite my lip trying to suppress my laughter, but I can’t contain it. I begin giggling like a child, partially from the paint smear, but mainly from the sexual tension in the air. He frowns and closes the gap I just made.

When he’s within a foot of me and my heart is about to beat out of my chest, I reach up and run my fingers through the paint in his hair. Drawing my hand back, I show him the white pigment on my hand and he lets out a low chuckle.

“Look what you do to me, Mia,” he says with another laugh and gingerly brushes his lips against mine.

I bite my bottom lip when his hands rest on my waist and he stares into my eyes. “Tate, I… I don’t want to do this.” His face drops and he lets go of my waist.
Crap, that’s not what I meant!
I grab his hands and put them back where they were. Shaking my head, I apologize. “Sorry, that came out wrong.”

My lips slide across his and I’m distracted by his tongue for a second. I quickly pull my head back, but leave my arms around his neck, not wanting to lose contact with his body. “What I meant is, I feel this crazy attraction to you and I think it’d be a waste to only have it once.”

He nods and mumbles his agreement as his mouth lazily moves along my neck again. I smile and put my hand on his chest breaking his contact with my skin. His bottom lip juts out in a pouty frown and I run my finger along it.

“When are you leaving town?” I ask, trying to change the subject.

Glancing at his watch, his eyebrows shoot up. “Shit! My flight leaves in a couple hours.”

Now it’s my turn to frown. I don’t have time to show him any houses in that amount of time nor do I want him to leave so soon.
God, this man is going to drive me nuts!
I never felt this way about my ex-husband. In fact, I welcomed the business trips he had out of town so that I could take a break from the sex and enjoy some me-time. Of course, those business trips were part of the demise of our marriage.

Tate lifts my chin with his finger, making me look up at him. “Hey beautiful, I don’t like to see you frown.”

Immediately, I straighten out my mouth, not wanting to disappoint this man I met less than twenty-four hours ago. I lean my forehead against his. “When will you be back in town?”

“I wasn’t planning on coming back until after spring training.”

I bite my lip, trying not to hide my disappointment. That’s over two months away. I just met Tate James and already I can’t stand the thought of him being gone for so long.

“Find me a house and I’ll come back before I leave for Arizona.” His mouth presses against mine again and he grabs my hips, lifting me, and my legs wrap around him. He pushes my back against the wet paint as our tongues dance and my body is electrified. If that isn’t motivation, I don’t know what is.

 

Tate

 

She’s in my shower. Naked. I want nothing more than to barge into that bathroom and join her, but I’m trying to be on my best behavior. After the intense makeout session, though, it’s hard to not want more than just kisses from her.

The water turns off and I picture her rubbing the towel over her body. I hope she walks into the hotel room in nothing but the thin piece of fabric. Shaking my head, I towel dry my hair, trying to get that image out of my mind so I won’t have to head to the airport with a raging hard on.

I hear the door open and look up. She’s not in a towel and she’s not naked either, but she still looks hot as hell. She’s wearing black skinny jeans that I want to peel off her, a loose white blouse with a scoop neckline that is even more seductive than the revealing dress she had on last night, and a grey blazer, pulling it together for the ultimate sexy, yet professional look. I smile as I see she still has paint flecks in her chocolaty brown tresses. I toss my towel on the bed and walk toward her wearing my jeans and nothing else.

Tugging her hips against mine, I stare into her eyes. I’m not used to being eye-to-eye with a woman and I feel like I can look directly into her soul when we’re on the same level like this. With her arms around my neck, she playfully bites my ear with a low giggle. God, I’m going to have to join the mile high club by myself the way she has me so worked up. She tilts her head back and I kiss along her throat, which makes her shiver.

“I had a great time today, Mia.”

She tips her head up and nods. Instead of answering, she gives me a long kiss, complete with our tongues doing the tango. Stepping away from me, she picks up her purse and walks to the door.

“I’ll let you know when I find your dream home,” she says with a wink and walks out.

I fall back on the bed and close my eyes.
Fuck
. That was the best time I’ve had with a woman since we won the NLDS five years ago and I hooked up with some random girl who was at least five years younger than me. I can thank alcohol and my teammates for that one. Honestly, I’m not one to sleep around, it was a rare occurrence. I can count the number of women I’ve slept with on two hands. I’m picky when it comes to who I share my bed with, and I’m not one for groupies.

Funny thing is, all I did with Mia was kiss her. Okay, so I briefly made it to second base, but still I haven’t even seen her naked and yet I’m more turned on by her than any of the women who constantly throw themselves at me when I’m on the field. Mia was dead on that the attraction we have to each other was too good to waste on a wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am.

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