Page 44

“She’s smoking hot,” Wade noted.

Yeah. That. God, he missed her.

They flew from Florida to New York, where the rest of the support team finally met up with them for a three-game series against the Mets. Pace was up in the rotation for game two, and in the locker room, just before the start he felt Gage’s beady eyes drilling a hole in the back of his head.

“Sorry,” Pace said. “I have no idea where Holly is, but if you want, I’ll kiss you instead.”

The guys all laughed and Gage lifted his clipboard to throw it at them, but then the door opened and in walked Holly.

She wore a pristine white halter sundress and a Heat-orange belt, the definition of sweet and sexy all at the same time, and Pace wanted everyone to vanish so he could slide his hands all over her and ruffle her up. Ruffle her up and down . . .

Everyone smiled and greeted her, thanking her for showing up as if she was the second coming of Christ.

Or the woman who could seal the deal on a win for them.

With a small smile playing about her lips, she walked right up to him, her eyes lit up with warmth and affection, and as happened every single time he looked at her, something deep inside him split open.

“I’m not late, am I?” she asked.

“No.”

They stared at each other, and everyone stared at them.

“It’s nice to have everyone happy to see me,” she murmured. “Are you happy to see me, Pace?”

If his hard-on was any indication, then yeah, he was happy as hell to see her. He gestured toward the shower room, and she led the way.

As he followed her, the guys whistled and hollered and hooted, not that he paid attention to anything but how sweet her ass looked in that sundress.

He wanted to bite it.

Then the door shut, and they were alone in the damp, musky shower room. “This setup isn’t nearly as luxurious as some of the others we’ve kissed in,” she noted.

“Yeah.” He turned away to look around. “Sorry about that—” He turned back and bumped right into her, sucking in a surprised breath as she pulled him in, slipping her arms around his neck. His hands went to her hips, squeezing gently before gliding up her back for the simple pleasure of touching her. “Holly—”

“I don’t believe we’re in here to talk,” she said. And then she went up on her tiptoes, brushing her br**sts to his chest as she did, and planted one on him, a kiss that meant business, instantly turning him into a snarling, rapturous beast, which he managed to hide by going very, very still instead of doing what he wanted to do—which was push up her dress and bury himself deep.

“This is more fun if you participate,” she whispered against his mouth, her body doing a little wriggle that had his eyes crossing in sheer lust.

He tightened his hands on her. “Trying to keep us both clothed here.”

Her eyes lit with fire and curiosity, and such excitement he had to close his and press his forehead to hers. “Okay, new tactic,” he said. “Don’t move. Just stand there.”

She put a hand on his chest, the warmth of her palm spreading through him, joining the wildfire already in progress. Her other hand was on his neck and she slipped her fingers into his hair, playing with the strands, and twisting his gut with pleasure in the process. He could feel her soft breath against his mouth, and he let out a rough breath. “Holly.”

“Maybe . . .” She ran her fingers over his chest from one side to the other, staring into his eyes as she very purposely pressed her body tighter to his, arching her hips to what had to be a very obvious erection. “Maybe if we kiss for longer,” she said, “you’ll win by even more.”

“Yeah?” He let out a low breath and a laugh. “I like the way you think.”

She lifted her face expectantly, and with a low groan he bent lower, once again covering her mouth with his.

She let out a soft, shuddery sigh of sheer pleasure and that was it. Goners. He yanked her up against him, she dropped her purse to the floor and flung her arms around his neck, and the kiss went as wild as his hammering heart. “Pace . . .”

Yeah. He knew. His stomach felt funny, his breathing was out of control, and all he could think about was that he could feel the two hardened tips of her ni**les boring holes into his chest. It wasn’t enough, not nearly enough. He covered them both with his palms as she slid her hands beneath his jersey, but that wasn’t enough either.

It took him less than two seconds to untie her halter top and tug it down, baring her br**sts, which were perfect, mouthwatering handfuls. Her fingers were fumbling with his pants as his thumbs grazed over those ni**les he wanted in his mouth.

Wanted.

Needed.

So he bent and gently sucked one between his tongue and the roof of his mouth, loving the shocked, needy little gasp that tugged out of her. She got his button undone and his zipper down and her fingers danced over him, which had her letting out another gasp. Gratifying? Oh, hell yeah, and with a nipple in his mouth, he slid his hands up her thighs beneath her dress and found—

Ah, man.

A thong. God bless the thong.

He hooked his fingers in the silk sides and tugged, rolling the silk down her legs until it hit the floor, his favorite place for panties. Palming her sweet ass, he slid his fingers lower, finding her wet and creamy. His ears rang with the hunger pounding through him as he slipped into that wet heat—

Wait. That wasn’t the blood in his ears pounding.

But someone pounding at the door.