Author: Jaci Burton

Great. If he could just get thoughts of Alicia’s body, her scent, out of his head, he’d go soft.

Instead, his head was filled with her, and his cock stayed hard. How was he going to explain that if he ran into her when he went back inside? She was already nervous and skittish around him, and waving his erection around would no doubt send her packing. He didn’t want to scare her off.

Maybe he’d just jack off here at the edge of the ocean. There were no other homes within miles of this secluded beach property, no boats out on the water, which gave him plenty of privacy. He was hard and aching, and it wouldn’t take much time to get off.

He drew his sweats partway down and pulled out his cock, taking it firmly in his grasp. It jerked in his hand, and he rolled his thumb over the head.

Garrett imagined Alicia walking out right now, seeing him like this. He knew how she’d likely react, but he imagined how he’d want her to react.

He’d want her to drop to her knees and put her mouth on him. His balls tightened at the mental image of her lips surrounding the swollen head, her tongue flicking out to lick up the pearly drops of fluid that spilled from the tip.

She had a beautiful mouth. He’d thought about kissing her again—a lot. Granted, he concentrated on her hands because she touched him, but her mouth—yeah, he wanted her mouth on him. On his mouth, on his skin, and definitely on his cock.

His balls tightened, and he gripped his cock, squeezing it as he jerked his hand over the soft skin. He tilted his head back and closed his eyes, so close to the edge he was ready to explode. But the fantasy of Alicia on her knees was too sweet to let go of.

Just a few more minutes.

* * *

ALICIA PRESSED A COLD WASHCLOTH TO HER NECK, splashed water on her face, paced back and forth in her room, and finally opened the window, hoping the night air would do something to bring her internal body temperature down.

But nothing worked.

Having Garrett’s hands on her hadn’t helped, and try as she might to convince him to stop, he hadn’t. First her hands, then her neck and shoulders. He’d given her goose bumps.

In therapy training, they had all touched each other. She’d had plenty of great-looking men put their hands on her, and she’d never gotten turned on. Not once. After all, this was her job. She’d never been attracted to any of the men she’d gone to school with or worked with, either in a peer capacity or with a patient.

Until now.

Staying here at the house was only going to make things worse. This had been such a mistake. But she was stronger than her libido and her fantasies, and she could gain control over them.

Couldn’t she?

She pressed her cool hands to her hot face. What was wrong with her? She had to get a grip on herself, had to put some distance between them, put this sexual fire out, or she would never be able to do her job.

Because physical distance was an impossibility. She had to be able to touch Garrett and not go up in flames every time she did.

She opened the back door, letting the cool breeze fan the flames.

And then stopped, her jaw dropping as she caught sight of Garrett.

She blinked, certain she was imagining what she saw.

But as her eyes adjusted to the darkness outside, she made out Garrett’s form at the edge of the water.

His sweats were drawn down low on his hips, and he had his cock in his hand, slowly drawing it through his fist. He had his head thrown back and his eyes closed, the tension in his body evident as he touched himself.

Her throat went desert dry. She couldn’t swallow, didn’t want to move, afraid the slightest movement would draw his attention. She had to get out of the light, so she took a step back, ashamed that she was watching him in this private moment but so enthralled by what he was doing she couldn’t turn away.

He was beautiful, his chest bare, his back bowed as he thrust his cock into his fist, mimicking the act of sex as he powered his shaft forward.

Her pussy clenched; her clit fluttered, demanding her attention. She slipped her hand into her shorts and palmed her sex, needing release.

She whispered out a gasp as she watched his tempo increase, wishing she were bold enough to walk out there and face him, show him what she needed.

She wanted to give them both what they obviously wanted. But she couldn’t. Staying hidden was thrilling, making her throb with want and need, but it was wholly unsatisfying when who she really wanted was standing out there on the beach, satisfying himself.

He’d wanted her tonight; the evidence had been so clearly outlined. And she’d walked away. Now he was taking care of his own needs when she could be out there, on her knees in the sand, her mouth on his beautiful cock, licking the crest, taking him between her lips, and sucking him until he exploded. Until they both exploded.

Her body taut with need, her legs shook as she swept her fingers over her aching pussy, her pulse pounding as she slipped her fingers inside, imagining what it would feel like if Garrett pushed her to the sand and plunged his cock inside her.

She let out a low moan, her fingers wet and her pussy gripping them tight as she watched him. His body was utter perfection as he rapidly jerked his cock. He looked like a god of the ocean out there, his body bathed in moonlight, his head tilted back as he moved with the fluid grace of someone who knew his own needs so well.

He was close to coming. So was she as she rubbed the heel of her hand against her clit.

She wanted him to fuck her, wanted to feel his muscled body hot and slick against hers, driving relentlessly into her, rolling against her until she splintered.

And when he thrust his hips forward and come jettisoned from his cock, she bit down on her lip and forced back her cry as she released, burying her fingers inside her pussy as waves of orgasm poured from her. They were coming together, and all she wanted was Garrett inside her, gripping her hips as he pounded his release into her.

Damp and shaken, she turned away, resting against the wall. She pulled her hand from her shorts as she caught her breath and closed her eyes, reliving the moment over and over again as her body pulsed with the aftereffects of that amazing orgasm.

When a few minutes had passed and she dared to take a peek out the window, Garrett was gone.

She went into the bathroom and stared at herself in the mirror. Her cheeks were pink, her skin was damp, and her whole body trembled.

So much for fleeing in here to cool her body down. She was a wreck. Her nipples tingled and her pussy quivered. She was still turned on, the images in her head nowhere near going away.

Facing Garrett tomorrow was going to be very difficult.

Running away from him tonight hadn’t helped at all. It had only made it worse.

 

 

THIRTEEN

GARRETT GOT UP AND WENT FOR A RUN EARLY, THEN grabbed some juice and went right to the gym for a lifting workout. That’s where he met Alicia, who came in dressed in tight-fitting spandex yoga pants and a tank top.

“Mind if I work out with you?” she asked, setting her towel and bottled water on the elliptical.

Jacking off last night hadn’t put him in any better mood. He figured the run might generate some endorphins, but he was still in a mood. “You can do whatever you want. There’s plenty of equipment here.”

She didn’t seem bothered. “Okay, thanks.”

She plugged earbuds in, turned on what he assumed was music, and started her workout. Instead of concentrating on her fine ass moving up and down on the elliptical, he was determined to focus on his workout. The one thing he could always count on to distract him was training his body. He worked with the weights, at least the ones he was allowed to do on his own, which meant legs and abs. Upper-body training was off-limits except under the direction of his trainers or his therapist, so he’d have to wait for Alicia.

He’d lost track of time, but he hadn’t lost track of Alicia, who after working up a sweat on the elliptical had moved to weights.

She was strong. She hadn’t once asked him to spot her, and despite being slight, she could heft a decent amount of weight on her own. He was impressed, and he liked watching her body.

Which he shouldn’t be doing at all since that’s what had put him in a bad mood to start with. He should do less ogling of her form and more paying attention to his own.

“You ready for me to work with you on your upper body?” she asked, swiping the towel over her neck and chest, which only made him focus on her breasts, which weren’t large but still made him want to run his tongue across her cleavage. She was damp with sweat, which only made him think of getting her sweaty in other ways.

Naked.

Dammit.

“Sure.” The sooner he finished this workout, the sooner he could avoid her, which was his new plan. Avoidance.

“Let’s start with a light bench press to warm you up,” she said, and off they went on the upper-body work.

He went through the motions, did the workout, then grabbed his towel.

“We’re not finished, Garrett,” she said.

He frowned. “That’s the normal routine.”

“I thought we’d change it up today, add a little more weight.”

“Really.”

“I think your shoulder needs to have some stress added to it. We need to get you warmed up to start throwing pitches.”

The idea of throwing a pitch made him ache in the pit of his stomach. Since the injury, it was all he could think about. This was everything he was working for.

And everything he feared.

But he refused to back down, refused to let the fear control him.

He was either going to get back in the game again or have to accept that his days as a pitcher were over. And there was only one way to find out.

He tossed his towel down, excited to be challenged. The day was already looking up. “All right. Let’s do it.”

Two hours later, his enthusiasm had waned. Between the weights and the therapeutic exercises and more of that god-awful stretching that was beginning to remind him of some form of sadism on Alicia’s part, he was as limp as an overcooked noodle. He sat slumped on the living-room sofa while his evil therapist updated her notebook.

“I think you’re trying to kill me.”

She momentarily lifted her gaze to his and smiled. “Wimp.”

“Admit it. The other teams in our division have paid you to destroy me.”

Another quick look. “Oh, suck it up. Yours isn’t even the worst injury I’ve ever seen.”

He stayed quiet for a few minutes, watching as she concentrated, typed, chewed her bottom lip, then made a few more notes. He noticed when she was focused, she could shut out everything, including his constant complaints, which were obviously falling on deaf ears.

Tired of himself, he got up and fixed them sandwiches for lunch.

“Hey,” he finally said, hollering to her from the kitchen.

“Yes?”

“Lunch.”

She stood and came into the kitchen. “Really? You made lunch? I could have done that.”

“You were working. And I can throw a turkey sandwich together. Though yours is without the turkey. Hope you don’t mind avocado and all that vegetable and grass stuff.”

She laughed. “I love avocado.” She sat at the table and took a bite, then made a moaning sound that made his balls quiver. “Oh, you have mad sandwich-making skills. Thank you. I was getting hungry.”

“You were working away in there.”

She swallowed and nodded. “I have big plans for you.”

His shoulder winced in response. “Great.”

“You’re going to like it. I promise.”

He doubted it. “The only thing I’m going to like is when the Rivers put me back in the starting rotation.”

She took a bite of her sandwich and studied him like a science experiment. She was no doubt pondering new ways she could tear his shoulder apart. He finished off his sandwich, trying not to watch her watching him. He had to admit it unnerved him.