Leslie Kelly - Boys Of Summer - Sliding Home / Fever Pitch / The Sweet Spot

He’d never experienced anything like this. Never. Not with his ex, not with past girlfriends, not with any woman he’d picked up for a mindless lay. He’d never felt completely savored like he did right now, with this sexy little woman who looked like an angel and sucked like a professional.

“This is amazing,” he whispered, closing his eyes and dropping his head back, his entire body nearly shuddering with delight. “You’re amazing, Janie.”

Janie. Janie?

Suddenly reality kicked him in the gut. Because everything came together.

Riley’s eyes flew open. Blinking a couple of times, he tried to focus until the ceiling tiles came into view. The little bit of blood not centered directly in his dick finally flowed into his brain and it shifted into gear.

“Hell,” he said, instantly stiffening everywhere else he wasn’t already hard as a rock.

Looking down, he realized what he should have known from the start. This woman on her knees giving him the best blow job he’d ever had was the sweet nursing home volunteer he’d met a couple of months ago. His grandfather’s darling. The one he’d figured for a twenty-year-old. “Stop,” he croaked.

She heard, but must have thought he was stopping her for another reason—because he was close to finishing. Any other woman he’d been intimate with would have stopped at that. With this one, it was like waving a red flag in front of a bull. She stroked faster, sucked harder, not letting him pull away, practically demanding that he let himself go.

He wasn’t a damn saint and the urge to come nearly overwhelmed him, especially because she seemed to want him to explode right in her mouth. But something was wrong here—this whole thing was not what it seemed.

So even though he felt certain his head was gonna blow off, Riley finally managed to get the message across by putting one firm hand on her shoulder and another on her cheek. And with great reluctance, he put an end to one of the most sinfully pleasurable interludes he’d ever experienced.

* * *

THOUGH FOR A SECOND Janie wondered if Riley Kelleher had stopped her so he could plunge into her and lose himself inside her aching body, one look at his face told her she was wrong.

With a groan that sounded as though it had been ripped from deep within him, he yanked up his trousers and stepped away from her. As if a few inches weren’t enough, he shuffled backward, putting a good two feet of space between them.

Staring at one another, they both heaved in a few deep breaths. Janie slowly rose to her feet, keeping herself from lunging back into his arms by digging her nails into her palms. Riley tilted his head back and thrust his hand through his thick hair, visibly trying to grab some control.

She didn’t want him controlled. She wanted him helpless with desire. Overwhelmed, just as he’d been a few moments before.

But it was too late. It was gone. The intensity, the need…it had left him.

She’d failed. Janie had enjoyed every second of what she’d just done to him, but he, apparently, had not. The most erotic foreplay she could think of hadn’t made him rip her clothes off with pure animal passion. So short of ripping her clothes off, herself, she wasn’t quite sure how to push him over the edge.

The knowledge that the most intense oral sex she’d ever attempted hadn’t been enough was deflating, to say the least. Especially because she’d liked it so much.

“I know you,” he eventually muttered. “My grandfather…”

“Yes.”

“You’re that girl.”

“That woman,” she clarified.

Finally meeting her eyes again, he looked her over, studying her intently. “I didn’t recognize you.”

“I know.”

His body stiffening almost imperceptibly, he said, “Was that the point? Me not recognizing you?”

Janie couldn’t deny it, not while her head was still spinning and her chest still heaving. “Yes. That was the point.”

Her honesty seemed to surprise him. His brow furrowing in confusion, he asked, “Why?”

“Maybe to make sure you realized I am not a girl.”

He nodded slowly. “I get the picture.” Then, his eyes narrowing, he added, “I obviously didn’t see you for who you really are, is that it?”

She merely nodded, willing him to see her now. See the woman who wanted him so desperately.

“So having made your point, are we done?”

Done? Good grief, she was nowhere near done with everything she wanted to do with this man. Not that she was ready to admit that out loud. One outrageously stolen intimacy had about used up her bravado for this evening.

“You paid me back for thinking you were a little innocent student or something. Now we’re even. Is that right?” His voice sounded tense, almost angry. Whether he’d wanted her or not five minutes ago, he most certainly did not now.

Janie didn’t under any circumstances want him leaving here thinking she’d been messing with his head. Neither, however, was she ready to yank her shirt off and ask him to lick her breasts like two scoops of ice cream.

Two scoops altogether…not each. Because she was definitely single scoop size on either side. Or maybe even less. Kid’s size.

Which gave her even less incentive to rip her shirt off, because all of a sudden she remembered who it was she was trying to tempt here. Mr. Baseball Star who could probably open his own silicone factory with all the stacked women who threw themselves at him on a daily basis.

Who the hell had she been kidding with this whole seduction thing? Even after the most intimate sex act she could perform while fully clothed, the man was looking at her as if he wanted to throw her off a building.

“Helloooo?”

Janie shook her head, hard. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

Suddenly it seemed a whole lot worse for Riley to think she’d imagined herself able to seduce him than to have him think she’d been playing some kind of payback prank on him. So, while already mentally painting a big yellow “chicken” stripe up her back, she added, “I guess I just heard one too many ‘little Janie’ cracks and I decided to make sure the world—” you “—saw me as the woman I am.”

Riley stared into her face, as if assessing her honesty. It took every bit of strength Janie had to hold his gaze, not blush or blink or do that shirt-ripping-off thing.

Kid’s size. Sample cones.

She kept her shirt on.

Eventually, Riley sighed and gave her a short nod. “Well, consider the point made.” And without another word, he turned and walked out of the stockroom.

Leaving her with a bit of her pride intact, but the rest of her completely empty.

* * *

ON MONDAY MORNING, Riley left his newly purchased historic Victorian house in the Old Louisville district, planning to head straight for the airport. The trip was good timing. Like many other buildings in the area, his was undergoing renovations, and he really didn’t want to be around for the jackhammering.

He was already distracted enough, thanks.

The Slammers were playing a series out west this week, and he needed to get his head back on straight before stepping onto the field. He had no business dwelling on anything except his game. Winning his game. Which meant shaking off this string of bad luck that had kept him from having a decent play in weeks.

He knew he couldn’t blame every loss on bum luck. Riley had had some shitty streaks in the past that couldn’t be blamed on anything except a sore shoulder, a lapse in concentration or a stupid late night out. But this time felt…different. Because he had never felt better physically, and his life seemed pretty good right now.

So losing for no reason, well, this time, he feared, it just came down to chance. Like his teammate Beau Léglise liked to say in his thick Louisiana accent, “Sometimes the field, she is a flawless diamond, and sometimes she’s a damn white line in the dirt leading straight to hell.”