Game On(41)

“Get back to the other side of the fence,” I told him, but he was not to be deterred.

“Are you sure?” he asked, facing me and wrapping his fingers around mine. “I’m a very patient instructor.”

“I don’t think I’m the one who needs lessons.” I tried to pull the bat away, but he had a firm grip on it. “I’m winning, remember?”

“You’re cheating,” he said.

“You cheated before!”

“Did I?” He took a step forward and I automatically took one back. “I don’t remember that.”

“You kept touching me during skee-ball,” I reminded him as he took another step forward, forcing me to keep moving back. He was already so close. The smell of him, grass and beer, filled my senses. Every part of my body seemed to throb with need.

“Did I?” Nathan asked, one of his hands dragging up my arm. I shuddered and he smiled.

“Stop it,” I said.

“I will if you want me to,” he responded, but I didn’t want him to. “Do you know what I’m playing for?” He leaned down, his breath hot on my cheek. “For a kiss.”

“A kiss?” I could barely get the words out of my throat.

“And you know it’s not really fair,” he said. “Four in row should count as winning.”

“Those weren’t the rules.” But I was starting to rethink those as well.

“I’m going to win anyways.”

“You might not,” I argued, but my voice had gone husky.

“I will,” he countered, and I knew he was right.

If I were smart, I would have pushed him away. I would have told him that this was unprofessional, that I was interviewing him and he was my subject and we absolutely could not in any way get involved. But then I felt the fence against my back and realized I was too far gone to stop now. And I didn’t want to anymore.

He laced his fingers in the chain fence on either side of my head, effectively pinning me to the wall. I could feel the heat of his body as he leaned forward, his eyes hot and intense. I knew I should stop him, I knew this was a bad idea, but instead I just met his gaze and licked my lips. He groaned deep in his throat and I knew we were both goners.

“Four in a row counts,” I said. He smiled and lowered his lips to mine.





Chapter Seventeen


The tension between us exploded as his mouth met mine, hot and wet and perfect. I had been waiting for this kiss my entire life, I realized. Now that we were alone, it was even better. Every nerve in my body was short-circuiting, and my mind screamed: YES, YES, YES! His hand cupped my chin, lifting my lips to fit more perfectly against his. I groaned, and his tongue plunged into my mouth. He tasted of beer and salt and something intrinsically male. Intrinsically Nathan.

The fence pressed hard against my back and I pressed hard against him. I couldn’t get close enough, my body crying out for his, craving nothing but the solid push of his hips against mine. This time he was the one who groaned, and I felt the sound vibrate through my entire body. His hand left my cheek and slid down, deliciously down, brushing against the side of my breast, but not stopping until it reached the slope of my hip. I thought I would faint, the clothes between us too much to bear. I needed to feel him against me, nothing but skin against skin.

My own hands were buried in his hair, that thick mess of hair, wonderfully twisted in my fingers as his tongue tangled with mine, each kiss hot, deep, and intoxicating. Just as I felt my knees go weak, his hand curved around my hip, his long fingers cupping my ass. Fuck! He knew exactly what he was doing and I could only kiss him back, clutching him like a lifeline. His other hand quickly joined the fun and I found myself hauled up flush against his body. Oh god, my body screamed. Give me more. I wanted him to f*ck me against this chain-link fence, to rip off my clothes and plunge himself inside of me. I wanted to feel every inch of him, each muscle, inch of skin. It wasn’t enough. My breasts cried out for his tongue, my hips begging for his grip. The feel of him, hard and throbbing against my stomach, made me gasp, my fingers clutching fistfuls of his hair as his mouth and hands did their best to make me forget my own name.

Tension began to build inside me, that delicious itch that begged to be scratched, and I was half ready to wrap my legs around his waist and beg him to show me if his last name was any indication of his sexual prowess, when I heard a throat clear behind his.

The poor kid in charge of the equipment was standing outside the cage, his face red and eyes looking everywhere but at us. I could only imagine the sight he had uncovered, the two of us desperately pawing at each other against a chain-link fence.

Nathan’s hands dropped away from my ass as I withdrew my own from his hair, both of us careful not to make eye contact with each other.

The kid cleared his throat again. “I gotta close up,” he said, clearly apologetic, clearly embarrassed beyond belief.

I felt heat rise in my cheeks. He wasn’t the only one. What had I been thinking? I was supposed to be writing an article on Nathan, not thinking of climbing him like a mountain.

My lips felt tender and tingly. It took all my control not to touch my fingers to them. Goddamn, he was a good kisser.

Still keeping my eyes away from his, I helped gather the equipment, handing the bats and helmets to the kid as we came out of the batting cage. He took them gratefully and scurried back to the desk, walking as fast as he could without outright running. I understood exactly how he felt. I needed to get back to my hotel room, with me on one side, Nathan on the other, and a locked door in between us.