Stealing Home(15)

My mind traveled back in time to a place and a player who I thought had embodied those qualities. I’d been wrong. “Loyalty and devotion? Is a player even capable of that?

“This one is.”

When his thumb brushed up my hand and circled my wrist, I felt a jolt spill down my back. A simple touch. An innocent one. Already my body was firing to life from this lightest of caresses—I couldn’t imagine how I’d survive what he had in mind.

“I need time to decide. We’ve both got so much to lose. I can’t just jump into something like this.”

“How much more time?” Archer tugged my hand so I slid a little closer. “Because I’m pretty sure my manhood’s going to be obsolete in about ten minutes.”

I splashed some water at him. “For being such a tough guy, you’re kind of a big baby.”

He blinked the water out of his lashes. “Do you know how cold these things are?”

“Yeah, I played sports. I spent my fair share of time in an ice bath.”

“And how long has it been since your last one?”

“A while,” I answered.

“In quantitative terms?”

I paused long enough that a grin was already forming on him by the time I got anything out. “A while is quantitative enough.”

“Well, I’ve already had two tonight and get to look forward to another eight in the next twenty-four hours.” He sank deeper into the tub, but it wasn’t big enough to fit his long frame. His knees popped out from beneath the surface of the water.

“Maybe next time you’ll listen to me when I tell you to take it easy.”

“Taking it easy isn’t my approach to anything in life. Especially when it comes to baseball.”

My gaze dropped to where his hand was still holding mine beneath the water. “I hadn’t noticed.”

“Good. Then this next part shouldn’t come as a surprise.” At the same time his hand tugged on mine, his other arm reached across the tub to wind around my back.

Before I’d caught up to the fact that Archer’s arms were around me, I was being rolled into the tub with him. As my body crashed over his, water and ice surged over the sides, spilling across the tile floor as ice scattered everywhere. I was so surprised by what had just happened, the icy water took a few moments to process.

Archer must have noticed my face creasing into a grimace or felt the skin on my arms rising, because that was when he moved his hands to my waist, floating my body down over his lap.

The cold water was forgotten again.

His hands seemed to swallow my whole waist, his grip firm, his touch insistent. My chest started moving faster when I felt his hard length pressed between my legs.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

His fingers buried deeper into my body. “Making my move.”

“In an ice bath?”

“On a f*cking polar ice cap if need be.”

Beneath my hand, I could feel his own chest moving faster . . . and how had my hand wound up there in the first place? I didn’t remember putting it there.

“I need more time, Archer. You and me . . . I need more time to make up my mind.”

He sat up higher in the tub so his face was almost level with mine. “You’ve already made your decision, Doc. You know that. I know that. You might not be ready to acknowledge it, but you’ve made your decision.”

My head shook, but my other hand moved to him, forming around his shoulder. “What makes you so sure?”

“Because you’re still in this tub with me.”

“You’re holding me here in this tub with you.”

His hands fell away from my waist, but my body stayed hovering above his, my hands still formed around him.

“Because you didn’t object when I said I wanted you to attend to me tonight.”

As he said the last part, his hips flexed into me in such a way I felt heat that no ice bath could touch course through my body.

“It’s my job to attend to you . . .” When one of his brows elevated, I clarified, “It’s my job to attend to the players. How would it look if I said no when you told Coach you wanted me tonight?”

I was saying everything wrong. Everything came out sounding like some double entendre, but his body beneath mine made talking difficult. It made talking logically impossible.

“It would have looked like you didn’t want to be alone with me. In my room. Because you didn’t trust yourself to be alone in my room with me.”

Making his point, his hands moved back to me. I’d let my chance to get away go by. His fingers pulled the back of my shirt free from my pants, his palm spreading against the freshly exposed patch of skin. His hand was searing hot, the kind of heat that felt capable of branding me.

“I don’t trust myself to be alone with you,” I breathed, his hand roaming higher up my back.

“Good.” His throat bobbed as he swallowed. “I want to kiss you, Doc. Now. This would be a good time to tell me how you feel about the two of us.”

My stomach wrung when his darkening eyes roamed my mouth. “One request.”

“Name it.” His words echoed off the tile walls.

“Stop calling me Doc. Kind of ruins the mood.”

He fought a smile as his hand slid around the back of my neck. “Fine. Allie.”