Bases Loaded (Mustangs Baseball) by Lee Roz

Author:Lee, Roz [Lee, Roz]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: State of Mind Publishing
Published: 2013-06-23T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fifteen

He drove too fast on the way back to his hotel. Crisp November air rushing through the open car windows did nothing to cool the nuclear reactor his body became the minute Clare walked out in her don’t-fuck-with-me sleeping gear. Women had no idea what that kind of get-up did to a man. Sure, the barely there concoctions they bought to drive a man crazy with lust were nice, in an “I’m easy” sort of way.

When a woman wore one of those outfits, a man knew he was going to get some. He wasn’t even going to have to work for it. It was sort of like waking up on Christmas morning to find none of your presents were wrapped. Sure, they had ribbons and bows on them, but the mystery, the suspense, the anticipation of tearing the wrapping away to find the surprise inside was gone. Kaput.

Not that he didn’t appreciate a fancy gift on occasion, but Clare’s outfit tonight? Damn.

She might as well have waved a red flag in front of a raging bull. It was a dare, a challenge issued. Seeing her in those makeshift pajamas almost did him in. She was damned sexy without even trying.

But she’d been trying all right. Trying to discourage his interest. She had no way of knowing her strategy was flawed. Women back in the day knew the score. The only way they could get by in the world was to get married, so they wore dresses that covered everything except an enticing glimpse of tits. Men were so hard up to see what the women had under all their voluminous skirts, even glimpsing a bit of ankle would give a guy ideas. He would marry the woman just so he could unwrap the package.

Women today could learn a few things from their predecessors.

When he and Clare were married, he would buy her a closet full of pajamas—flannel ones with buttons down the front so he could have the pleasure of taking them off of her every single night. He’d unwrap her one button at a time, tasting each inch of skin, lavishing attention on her breasts until she begged him to do more. Then he’d flip her over onto her stomach, dip his fingers past her pajama pants waistband, and yank them down. He’d sink his teeth into her ass a few times to let her know who was in charge. Then….

Christ! Where was an ice storm when you needed one?

He couldn’t remember ever wanting a woman as badly as he had wanted Clare in those bunny slippers. Hell, his need hadn’t wavered one bit—his dick was still hard enough to drive rivets through steel. But he wouldn’t trade a fuck with a dozen willing women for the evening he’d just spent pleasuring Clare. She’d needed some TLC, and he’d given it to her. That was enough.

He lifted his hand to his face and sniffed. Heaven scented his fingers. He rubbed his thumb over the pads of his first three fingers, recalling the feel of her tight channel.

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