Love of the Game Page 22

  “No.”

  “My treat.”

  “You really don’t know the meaning of ‘no,’ do you?”

  “Do you have a question, Kasha?” asked the instructor.

  “I’m good,” she told the instructor. To Axel, she whispered, “Shut up.”

  Thankfully, he did shut up, and she spent the next hour keeping her eyes focused on the teacher.

  “On your backs,” the instructor called at the end of the workout.

  During the Savasana, the final pose of the session, Kasha lay quiet, unmoving, and when the rest of the class gathered up their yoga mats and drifted out of the studio, she kept her eyes squeezed tightly closed, listening to Axel roll up his mat and walk away. When she was certain the room was empty, she let out a long breath, opened her eyes, and got up.

  But when she stepped out into the lobby, there he was, leaning one insouciant shoulder against the wall, throwing her a sunbeam smile. She shouldn’t encourage him, but the dangerous part of her she couldn’t seem to control smiled back.

  Dammit, she was done for.

  He held the door open, held her gaze. “Coffee?”

  She nodded helplessly, hefted her yoga mat sling over her shoulder, and followed him like it was a foregone conclusion. They walked across the street to the coffee shop, and Kasha couldn’t help admiring his height. He made her feel, if not exactly petite, definitely more feminine.

  He held the door open for her again when they entered the coffee shop. They placed their order and he guided her to a table. A few minutes later he hopped up to pick up his espresso and her iced coffee.

  “Thanks,” she mumbled, feeling her body heat the way it did every time she was near him.

  Axel pulled his wooden chair closer to hers.

  An uncomfortable silence settled over them as they simultaneously sipped their drinks.

  “Used up all your witty conversation in class, did you?” she finally asked.

  “You told me to shut up.” A sly, wry smile plucked the corners of his mouth up in an I’m-not-playing-by-any-particular-rules grin.

  “So …” Kasha scooted her chair back. “Catch you later. Thanks again for the coffee.”

  His big palm settled on hers, stilling her. “Stay.”

  “I’m not a Labrador retriever you can boss around.”

  “You’ve never owned a Labrador retriever,” he stated with absolute certainty.

  “How do you know? I might have.”

  “You didn’t. Otherwise you would know they have minds of their own.”

  “Since you’re comparing me to a Labrador, then you won’t be surprised when I disobey your commands.” Kasha slipped her hand out from under his, her pulse bounding wildly, and stood up.

  “Actually, I expected you to bolt and run.”

  Well, fudge. She couldn’t very well do what he expected. She plunked back down. This time, his grin was a tad less self-assured, and that pleased her.

  “You’re staying?”

  “Don’t push it, dude.” She stared at his lips, feeling exasperated and bewildered and horny as all get-out.

  “Dude?” His smile widened.

  “It’s something people say.” She shrugged, but the casual gesture didn’t do anything to ward off the brushfire building in her solar plexus every time he peered deeply into her eyes.

  “Other people say it.” He leaned in closer, so close she could smell his thyme-scented cologne. “Not you.”

  “Hey, apparently I do, since I just said it.”

  “You called me dude to keep me at a distance.”

  “Right, because a word is as good as metal armor.”

  “It can be. The way you wield it. Dude makes me sound silly and shallow.”

  “If the dude fits …” She shrugged again, letting her shoulders linger up around her jawline for a second.

  He pretended to pluck his tongue from his mouth and file it against an imaginary whetstone before popping it back into his mouth. “Sharpened and ready to duel. Let me have it, Sphinx.”

  Kasha rolled her eyes and pressed her lips together tight to keep from smiling. She was not going to encourage him.

  “I’m being funny,” he said, “but I want to have a serious conversation.”

  “What about?”

  “Us.”

  “There is no us,” she said calmly, levelly, and anyone who didn’t know her would say she meant it.

  But Axel knew better. He knew she kept her feelings wrapped up tight, too afraid of losing control to let them off the leash.

  “Why are you so scared of having a relationship with me? I’m not your patient anymore.”

  “I didn’t quit so we could hook up. The reason I can’t be with you hasn’t changed. I’m still a therapist even if I’m not your therapist.”

  “So?”

  “A therapist/patient sexual relationship is wrong because of the inequality of power. When you’re a patient, you’re vulnerable. For me to engage in a sexual relationship with you puts me in control, and gives me an advantage.”

  “Sounds like a cop-out to me.”

  “You’re weak, vulnerable. I can’t … won’t take advantage of that fact.”

  Quickly, Axel stuck both his feet around the rungs of her chair legs, and before she could even react, he yanked her, chair and all, right across the cement toward him.

  Her eyes widened as he grasped the back of her chair with both hands and leaned his body over her, his face firmly planted in front of her.

  “Anything about me look weak and vulnerable to you, Sphinx?”

  Ulp. No.

  “You know what I think?” he asked, his voice low, his lips devastatingly close, his knees bumped against hers, his hands gripping both of her shoulders.

  She bobbed her head, unable to find her voice.

  “I think you’re so scared of your own sexuality. That you’re terrified of feeling your true power.”

  How did he know? Could he read it in her face? No way. She’d spent years learning how to keep her feelings from showing on her face, hours in front of a mirror honing her skills. How had her practice failed her?

  “No? Fine, go ahead and keep your secrets Sphinx,” he said, and shook his head as if she’d greatly disappointed him. “I’m just damn worried about you.”

  “Don’t fret about me.” She notched up her chin so he wouldn’t see the uncertainty in her eyes. “I can take care of myself.”

  “You really don’t want people scaling your ivy-covered walls, do you?”

  “And yet you keep trying to climb them. Maybe I should cut down the ivy and grow something with thorns?”

  “Where’s a machete when I need one?” He cast a glance around as if searching for a honed blade to slice her defenses to ribbons.

  “Wal-Mart. Aisle ten.”

  “I’m getting the feeling that by the time I got back from Wal-Mart the vines will be so thick I’d need to go back for a chain saw.”

  “Could be,” she said mildly, vaulting over the fact her pulse was pounding hard and fast.

  “Okay then, if you’re not interested in pursuing something with me, then come back to work for the Gunslingers,” he said.

  “I can’t.”

  “Because of me?”

  “No. Because of me. I broke my code of ethics when I kissed you, and I don’t like me very much right now.”

  “Don’t worry.” He winked, and the gesture sent a fizz of something hot and strange bursting through her veins. “I like you plenty for the both of us.”

  “Stop it.”

  “Stop what?”

  “Being charming. It’s irritating.”

  He pulled a face. “First time I’ve ever heard that one.”

  “Some people find charm exhausting.” She wished she could scoot back, but he held fast to her chair with his feet. She couldn’t even get up without tripping over him.

  “And you’re one of those people?”

  “Yes.”

  “You are such a liar. You
are just afraid you’ll like me too much, and then, gasp, where will you be? All these messy feelings to deal with. News flash, darling. Life is messy when you’re living it full-out.”

  “No, I’m not afraid of my feelings for you,” she said, and crossed her fingers before she sat on her hands.

  “Yes, yes you are. And if you like me too much, that means you’re having feelings for me, and you hate having feelings.”

  “You’re right about the last part,” she conceded, grabbing for her drink and taking a long pull on her straw.

  “I’m right about the first part too.”

  “Or you’re just supremely full of yourself. Believe it or not, some people are not impressed with star baseball pitchers.”

  “These are the same people who find charming exhausting?” He leaned back in his chair, but kept his knees locked around hers. He lowered his lashes and studied her without speaking for so long that Kasha started to squirm.

  “No, different crowd.” She picked up a sugar shaker, took the top off her drink, poured the sugar in, and stirred it up with her straw, more for something to do than because her drink wasn’t sweet enough. “Although there might be a few in both camps.”

  “Which camp are you in?”

  “The I-don’t-much-give-a-damn camp.”

  “Ah,” he said. “The Rhett Butler defense. Someone gets under your skin, and rather than deal with it, you pretend you don’t care.”

  “Is it working?” She slid a glance at him.

  “Not so much.”

  She took a drink. Made a face. “Ugh.”

  “You just put salt in your drink.”

  “So I see.”

  “Me too.”

  “You put salt in your coffee?”

  “No, I see that you’re trying to hide just how much you’re attracted to me. That kiss at the lake meant something to me, and I think it meant something to you too. Otherwise why let it chase you off?”

  “I’m not doing this.” She folded her arms over her chest.

  “Then why did you come for coffee?”

  “I needed a jolt of caffeine.”

  “You keep lying like that and that gorgeous nose of yours is going to grow into an elephant trunk. You want another iced coffee?” He nodded at her salty drink.

  “I’m good,” she said.

  “Yes you are,” he agreed and then kissed her right there in the coffee shop.

  She didn’t resist even though she was fully aware of the eyes trained on them, knowing this was going to be all over town by nightfall.

  Kasha didn’t care anymore. She was a grown woman, not that far off from thirty-one. She no longer worked for the Gunslingers. He was no longer her client. There was nothing standing in the way of her taking him as a lover if that’s what she wanted.

  Kasha kissed him back, spearing her fingers through his hair, cupped her palms around his ears, realizing he was doing the exact same thing to her. Pinning her to the chair, holding her in place as he leaned across the table to drink her in. He tasted of coffee, rich and potent, and she couldn’t get enough.

  He kissed her shoulder and then her neck. What a miracle it was to be here with him. To be with this man, feel the brand of his mouth upon her skin. He pulled back to study her and she looked up into his face, and she was suddenly struck by who he was. One of the top baseball pitchers in the country, and he was kissing her.

  “Oh my,” she whispered.

  “What is it?” His warm breath feathered the hairs along her temple.

  “Nothing.” She ducked her head.

  Everything.

  He titled her face up to him, kissed her again. “Tell me.”

  “You’re the Axel Richmond.”

  “So?”

  “It’s a lot of pressure being with someone like you. Expectations. I don’t want to disappoint.”

  “You won’t.”

  He dragged her upward until she was on her feet and bent across the table the same way he was, the two of them meeting in the middle, the infernal table between them preventing full body contact and she thought, Where can we go from here? But his mouth was so blistering hot she stopped thinking at all.

  The coffee shop burst into applause and Axel said, “You wanna get out of here?” and Kasha murmured, “Yes,” and the next thing she knew they were in his sporty BMW speeding toward Rowdy’s ranch.

  CHAPTER 21

  It took a full ten minutes to get up that hill. There was time to come to her senses. Time to back out. Plenty of time to change her mind.

  But Kasha did not change her mind.

  Axel stopped the car in the middle of the driveway, killed the engine, and hopped out to come around to her side to open the door, but she was already out, flinging herself into his arms.

  He spun her around and crushed her mouth with his and she was dizzy and breathless and crazy.

  Breathe.

  She tried, but her lungs refused to cooperate. They pumped wildly, her chest moving up and down, but no air exchanged. Somehow, her top was unbuttoned and so was his shirt and they were both rumpled, lips glistening from the wet heat of their kisses, and he looked as bushwhacked as she felt.

  “Bed,” he gasped.

  “Bed?” She blinked as if it was a foreign word, her mind so soaked with sensation she couldn’t think.

  “Do you want bed …” He grunted like a caveman and glanced down at the terrazzo entryway. She followed where his gaze went, and shivered a little. “Or floor?”

  “The Creedys?” While the groundskeeper and his wife had their own cottage several acres away, they could show up at the ranch house anytime.

  “Right.” He nodded vigorously. “Bed.”

  “Bed,” she echoed.

  He grabbed her hand and dragged her up the stairs behind him, her heart a jackhammer in her chest, slamming against her rib cage.

  “Wait,” she said outside the door of the guest bedroom where he was staying.

  “What?” His voice came out rough and strangled.

  “Condoms.”

  He patted his back pocket. “Been carrying them around with me since the day we met.”

  “Cocky bastard.” She grinned.

  “Aren’t you glad?” he growled.

  “Yes,” she admitted as he sank his mouth on hers again and waltzed her into the bedroom.

  “Wait.” She splayed a palm over his chest.

  “What?” He groaned, shallow and reedy, as if there were no oxygen left in the room.

  “We need to talk.”

  He groaned again, deeper and full of frustration. “What about?”

  “You. Me. Us.”

  “What about us?”

  “What this means.”

  He chuffed, exasperated, and jammed fingers through his mussed hair. “What do you want it to mean?”

  “What do you want it to mean?”

  Stalling out, his hand dropped to his side. “No matter what I say, I’m going to get my butt in a crack.”

  “I’m not in a place for a relationship. Not while I’m in the process of getting custody of Emma, and introducing her into my life.”

  “Okay, I can live with that.” He nodded, but his lips tightened and thinned as if he disagreed.

  “Really?”

  “I’ll take what I can get.”

  “That’s it?”

  He paused again, looked confused, asked in a hopeful voice, “You want more? ’Cause—”

  “No,” she lied, because she wanted so very much more that it terrified her.

  “So casual. Just this one time?” he asked, and she felt slightly sick to her stomach. He paused, looked her squarely in the eyes. “You sure that’s what you want?”

  “You’re talking too mu—” She didn’t get to finish the last word because he lowered his head, lowered his eyes, grabbed hold of her, and pulled her up flush against his chest.

  He eased his knee between hers, parting her legs, cupped her face with both hands, and kissed her—hotly, wetly, thoroughl
y.

  Their body heat mingled and she melted into him. His hands slipped from her face to her shoulders and then ambled on down to cradle her breasts, and she thought, The sexiest pitcher in major league ball is groping me, and she chuckled against his lips.

  “What’s so funny?” he asked.

  She slipped her arms around her waist, and opened her eyes, peeked up at him. It was great to be with a guy who was taller than she was. He made her feel petite and über-feminine. “You. Me. This.”

  “That’s funny?”

  “Far-fetched.”

  “Why?”

  “Why what?”

  “Why do you find the idea of us being together far-fetched?”

  She opened her mouth, realized she didn’t have a good answer, and shut it again. “Are you going to stand here talking all night or take me to bed?”

  He thought about that for all of two seconds. “Bed.”

  “Good man.”

  “Good ain’t the half of it, sweetheart. Just you wait and see.” His grin went wicked, and before she knew what was happening, he bent and scooped her into his arms.

  “Put me down!” she exclaimed. “I’m too big for you to be carrying. You’ll hurt your shoulder!”

  “It’s already hurt.”

  “Axel!” She didn’t try to fight because she might throw him off balance and cause more problems. “Put me down!”

  “I hate having limitations,” he growled.

  “Tough. You’re not Superman. Deal with it.”

  Grudgingly, he lowered her to the floor.

  “Thank you.” She straightened.

  He took her hand and led her into the bedroom, Kasha’s heart skipped. She could still leave. There was time. No line had been crossed.

  But then he turned back and looked at her so sweetly that every last bit of fear drained away, and she knew she would follow this man anywhere.

  He’d agreed to a one-night stand simply to get her into bed, but Axel wanted so much more. This wasn’t just about sex. Not by a long shot.

  But he’d have to think about that later. Right now he had a lush, sexy woman in his arms, and he wasn’t about to blow it.

  “I can’t wait to peel those yoga pants off you,” he whispered.

  “What are you waiting for?” She fluttered her eyelashes in a coy gesture that was very un-Kasha-like.

  “I just want to look at you for a moment.” He stepped back, raised his hands like he was framing a camera shot. “Store it in my memory.”