Changing the Game

Page 23

She moaned as he massaged her feet, a weak spot since she spent all her time in heels.
“God, that feels good. Please don’t stop.”
He pressed his thumb on the arch of her foot, and he surprised her when his tongue wrapped around her toe. She gasped, the dual sensation of comfort and sensuality shooting right to her pussy. Wet, hot flames of arousal licked at her, made her lift her butt in the air and slide her hand between her legs to massage the ache in her clit.
“Stop,” he said. “I’ll get there in a minute.”
She laughed. “I can’t wait. I want to come.”
“You don’t have much patience, do you?” he asked, then slid her big toe in his mouth and sucked it.
Oh, damn. She lost all track of what she was about to do with her fingers, mesmerized by his talented tongue and mouth. And when he slid his tongue across the bottom of her foot, she jerked her foot away.
“That tickles.”
“We can’t have that.” He licked his way over her ankle, up her calf, and lifted her leg, then laid it down on the bed, kissing the back of one knee, then the other, parting her legs to crawl between them. He pressed his lips to the backs of her thighs and where her butt cheeks met her legs, then massaged her buttocks.
She moaned again when he started rubbing her lower back, especially the one spot that . . .
“Ohhh . . .”
“Really.”
“Yeah.”
“It’s because you insist on wearing those four-inch heels. Bad for your back.”
“Yes, Doctor. Whatever you say, Doctor. Just keep rubbing there.”
“You sure you want me to rub here? Or maybe here instead.”
He let his fingers drift lower over her ass again, then between her legs to tease her pussy.
“Well, that’s nice, too. Rub there instead.”
He did, using three fingers to part her pu**y lips and spread her juices over her clit. She followed his hand by lifting her butt and rubbing against him like a cat craving attention.
Hell, she might even be purring. She knew she made some kind of noises but had no idea what they were. She was lost in sensation, her mind focused only on his touch and the feel of his body as he moved over her and slipped his c**k inside her, then reached under her to continue to sweep his fingers over her clit.
He swelled inside her, thickening, stretching her, taking her to the limit and back again. She fisted the sheets and buried her head in the covers, shutting out everything but his breathing as he whispered dark words in her ear. She turned her face to the side, catching only a glimpse of his tightened features as her lips met his in a fevered kiss when he thrust deeply inside her.
Pressed to the mattress, she was powerless, giving up total control to him as he whipped her into a fevered state. Tension turned her muscles to steel as she fought the explosion that hovered so close. She wanted to prolong this ecstasy, where every stroke of his c**k was bliss and every whispered word he uttered was sweet heaven.
“Let go, Elizabeth. Let me feel you come.”
She shook her head, holding on for just a few seconds longer as he wound her tighter into a ball of the sweetest pleasure imaginable.
But when he bit down on the nape of her neck, she was awash in heat that she couldn’t survive, and she cl**axed, crying out and meeting his lips as he ground against her, his balls slapping against her clit. He groaned and spilled inside her. He was glued to her, shuddering against her, and she wanted this to go on forever, just the two of them connected like this.
Gavin dropped down on top of her and rolled to the side, bringing her with him, stroking her br**sts as she came down off the high.
She always gave so much to him in sex, so much of herself. She laid herself open and gave him everything, held nothing back. She had never been like that with other men.
She had never loved other men.
She wondered if he realized how much she gave him, or if he thought she was simply like every other woman he’d been with.
She’d never ask. She didn’t want to know. There was only right now between them. She’d never tell him how she felt. He had too much power as it was.
And every day that passed he gathered more.
She sighed and snuggled against him. He stroked her hair in the darkness, and she allowed a single tear to slip down her cheeks.
Little by little she was losing herself in Gavin.
She was never going to win this game.
SEVENTEEN
IF THIS WERE A ROCK CONCERT INSTEAD OF A WEDNESDAY afternoon baseball game in Milwaukee, the girl with the huge tits in the second row along the first-base line would be lifting up her shirt and flashing her goods at Gavin.
Instead, she’d held up signs proclaiming her love for him, her boobs bouncing up and down as she held the sign over her head.
He loved fans, especially the out-of-town ones since the visiting team was typically booed.
But this woman was having a wet-panty party in her seat for Gavin, and he was loving every minute of it, despite the ribbing he was taking from his teammates in the dugout.
“Dude, you should definitely get her number.”
“She’s done everything but fling herself on top of the roof of the dugout.”
“I’ll bet you a hundred bucks she’ll be waiting for you outside after the game.”
No way was he taking that bet. He’d seen plenty of groupies before, and blondie up there was a class-A fan girl. He was flattered, but he knew better than to indulge the fantasies of the crazies. She probably kept a room filled with his photos and an ice pick under her pillow.
After the game he and a few of the guys headed downstairs to the hotel restaurant for dinner and drinks to console themselves after a tough loss. Sometimes it was easier to lose a game by six runs than to drop a close game. This one had been a nail-biter until the bitter end, and they’d had guys on first and third in the top of the ninth, but they couldn’t bring them home.
“Bats were cold today,” Dedrick said. “Or at least mine was.”
“Wasn’t just you,” Gavin said, lifting his glass of beer and taking a couple long swallows. “I couldn’t hit for shit.”
Tommy took a drink and sat his mug on the table, grimacing. “Pitching didn’t help much, either. Bailey couldn’t hold those two runners in the third, I couldn’t help him out in the fifth. I didn’t last but two innings. My relief sucked. Must be a full moon or somethin’.”
Gavin lifted his glass. “To a better game tomorrow.”
They clinked glasses.
“Couldn’t get any worse than today,” Dedrick muttered.
“Well, yeah, it could,” Gavin said. “But it won’t. Tomorrow we kick their ass.”
They drank beer, ate burgers, and moaned about the game some more. Dedrick and Tommy called it a night and went back to their rooms. Gavin hung out in the bar, too restless to pace the confines of his hotel room. There was a night game on, Atlanta and Tampa Bay, so he sat at the bar and watched the game, switching to soda after having one more beer.
A knockout brunette pulled up a barstool next to his since the bar was pretty full. She ordered a drink, pulled out her phone, and started punching buttons.
Gavin judged her to be in her mid-twenties, no doubt in town on business since she had her hair pulled up like Elizabeth styled hers and she wore a suit and some fancy shoes, same as Elizabeth.
She frowned at whatever nonsense was happening on her phone.
“Problem?”
She glanced up and offered a smile. She had nice brown eyes.
“Client canceled our meeting.”
Gavin nodded. “Hate when that happens.”
She laughed. “Me, too. You in town for business?”
“You could say that.”
She held out her hand. “Judith Stafford. I’m a marketing rep for Lincoln Aluminum. And you are?”
He shook her hand. “Gavin Riley.”
“Nice to meet you, Gavin. Who do you work for?”
“The Saint Louis Rivers baseball team.”
Her brows rose. “Oh. You’re a baseball player. No game tonight?”
“No. We played Milwaukee this afternoon.”
She let out a soft laugh. “I’m so sorry. Not a big sports fan, obviously. I should probably be drooling or squealing or something, shouldn’t I?”
He liked this woman. “Not required, really. Not everyone is a fan.”
She half turned in her seat, enough to showcase a set of spectacular legs. “So did your team win or lose today?” she asked.
“We lost.”
“I see. So you’re in the bar drowning your sorrows.”
“My teammates and I were earlier. Now I’m just having a soda and watching another game. I’m not big on spending the night in a cramped hotel room. I hate day games.”
She nodded. “Worst part of travel is the hotel rooms. I usually go to the mall to kill time, or do the same thing you do—either hang out in the restaurant or the bar. It’s a shame you already had dinner, or I’d invite you out and we could see the city.”
“I don’t get to see too much of any city when we play. It’s usually just in and out, and again, a lot of hotel rooms.”
“Sounds like my business, though I do get to eat in plenty of local restaurants. Schmoozing clients, you know.”
“So you travel a lot?”
She nodded. “Around the country. I’m director of sales, so I’m on the road probably three-quarters of the year.”
“Yikes. How does your husband feel about that?”
Her lips lifted. “That’s why I don’t have one, at least not yet. Maybe when I find a man willing to put up with the craziness that is my job, I’ll cut the travel back some. And then again, maybe not.”
“You need to marry a baseball player. They’d understand that travel schedule, plus you wouldn’t be leaving a guy at home all the time. At least not until the off season.”
She smiled, showing white, even teeth. “Is that a marriage proposal?”
He choked on his drink. “You move fast, Miss Stafford.”
She picked up her own drink and took a sip, then crossed her legs. Gavin had been around enough women to know that was a sign of interest.
She was drop-dead gorgeous, she smelled good, and she was throwing off signals that a guy would have to be blind not to notice. She was smart and fun to talk to, and if he played his cards right, he could have Judith Stafford in his bed tonight.
The problem was, a certain feisty redhead kept entering his mind. She was the only one he wanted to take to bed, the only one he wanted to think about.
What the f**k was wrong with him anyway?
“And what about you, Gavin Riley? How does your wife feel about you traveling all the time?”
“No wife.”
Her eyes positively sparkled now.
“But there is a woman I’m seeing. I’ve been seeing a lot of her the past couple of months, actually. She’s on the road a lot, like you, so she understands the whole travel thing.”
And just like that, the light went off in her eyes. She uncrossed her legs and slid them under the barstool. A sure sign that screamed hands off, even though her smile was still friendly.
Friendly and polite, but she was making it clear that their fun conversation was over.
“She’s a lucky woman. And I think I’m going to head upstairs, get out of my professional clothes, and watch some television. Nice to meet you, Gavin.”
“Nice to meet you, too, Judith.”
After she left, Gavin finished his soda and paid his bar tab, then headed up to his room. He took out his cell phone and scrolled through the names, smiling when one came up.
He had a sudden urge to talk to Elizabeth.
THERE WAS NOTHING THAT FIRED UP ELIZABETH’S COMPETITIVE spirit more than a roomful of other sports agents.
The conference on networking, negotiations, and social media was right up her alley. Everyone in her industry was here, and this was her chance to get caught up, to fill two days and nights with nothing but what drove her.
She and her fellow sports agents didn’t get together all that often other than maybe seeing each other at the drafts and banquets, and they were usually too busy with their clients to say more than a brief hello. Of course there were her peers from the agency she worked at, but they were still competitors. Her goal was to be the top of the upper echelon, even within her own company. And so far she was doing just that.
Plus it was a great learning experience. She was on top of social media, had a Twitter presence and her own Facebook page where she listed the goings-on of all her clients. She wanted prospective clients to know what she was doing and who was on her client roster. Young players today were all online, and if they wanted to find a sports agent, that’s where they looked. She was no dummy. She knew how to play the game. It was all digital. College players weren’t going to drag out the Yellow Pages to look for an agent.
But there were valuable workshops to attend on salary caps for rookies, improving your negotiation skills, waging the war on arbitration, and dealing with labor relations. There was so much more to being a sports agent than just signing and keeping great players. Often it was like maneuvering in a minefield, and a good agent stayed on her toes and made sure he or she kept abreast of all the current legal and contractual ramifications.
Of course her agency had great lawyers to sort out the legal aspects of a player’s rights and contract. But Elizabeth wanted to be as knowledgeable as possible, so these annual meetings were essential.
“Soaking it all in, Elizabeth?”
She gritted her teeth, turned, and put on a professional smile for her arch nemesis, Don Davis. “Don. How nice to see you.”
He flashed his oh-so-white-and-no-doubt-capped teeth, adjusted the cuffs of his perfectly tailored shirt under his impeccable dark and ostentatious suit that went with his very expensive tie. His slicked back black hair made her think of some mobster out to threaten her to pay up in three days or she’d be found in a dark alley missing a few fingers. Or maybe he resembled a high-class pimp. She couldn’t decide. Even his tan looked expensive. And spray-on.