Playing the best game ever invented by man and playing it well always made Dane horny. Something about kicking the other team’s ass so soundly they had to limp home in shame just made his dick want to stand up and wave bye-bye as they slunk to their bus. Tonight he’d been hotter than hot. Hell, he’d been on fucking fire, probably because Court was at the game this time, watching him, making him excited and…lighting him on fucking fire. He’d made it around the bases so many times, he’d worn himself a trench. And tonight he was gonna hit all the bases with the seriously hot Courtenay with the killer blue eyes. A man was nothing without a plan, and he’d worked out every detail.
Court, being a tease, was stalling. Maybe he needed his ass kicked too? Got them both sucked into helping the coach load everything into his van, and it wasn’t even his turn. It was Scott’s turn, and the jerk had sneaked off just as skillfully as the losing team, heading for the bar. Shithead. Played so crappy, he deserved to slink. Dane would get Courtenay alone soon enough, and he’d do more to that ass than kick it.
“Got yourself a boyfriend, eh?” the coach asked under his breath as Court gathered up their stuff.
“Hope so.”
“Don’t let him take your mind off the game.”
“Did it look like my mind wasn’t on the game?”
“Hell, no. That’s gotta be the best game you’ve ever played. He just looks like trouble.”
“Court? You gotta be kidding me. Mr. Straight Arrow?”
“Not that kind of trouble,” he said with a headshake. “How can you stand those eyes? Creepy. And he’s too good-looking for a guy.”
“Better not let him hear you say that. He’ll kick your ass-end into the next county.”
“Behave yourself.”
“Not a chance.” And he truly meant that. Court was playing hard-to-get and still hanging on to that whole Stockholm Syndrome thing with all his might. Realizing he had to fight facts with facts and fire with fire, he’d looked it up on the Internet. Bunch of bullshit. Court was damn gorgeous. And interesting and smart and liked his jokes, and Dane’s feelings had nothing whatsoever to do with misplaced emotions. Thank you very much, Stockholm, but he’d be keeping Court and keeping that slow, sexy smile he got as the man walked over to join them, everything put away at last. “See you next week,” he said to his coach. The good-bye was said absently, though, because he was mesmerized by those frickin’ awesome eyes sizing him up where it counted.
“Ready?” Court asked.
“Yeah. Let’s go.” Fucking right he was ready. They’d had dinner together, third time this week, and had no plans for the rest of the evening other than to spend it together. And Dane meant to redefine together, damn it.
“You’re really good,” Court said.
So Court meant baseball—Dane sure as hell meant something else. “Yes, I am.”
Something in his tone must have given him away, and Court got instantly flustered. “Coming over, then?”
“Yes, I am.”
“Ah…uh,” Court sputtered. “You sound like a man with a plan.”
Yes Dane did have a plan, many in fact, and all of them lead to the same result. Didn’t shy, easily startled Courtenay like hearing about his plans in advance? What worked once would work again. Talking—talking dirty—was his specialty. Court was gonna get some serious hands-on time. Another home run coming up! “I’ll tell you about my secret plan when we get to your place, and you won’t even need your decoder ring to figure it out.”
During the past week, Court had learned to loosen up some, and it showed in his good mood and flirtatious smile. “Good. ’Cause watching you run around in that uniform all night has been driving me crazy.”
“Yeah? Like what you see?”
The corners of his eyes crinkled with his smile. “Those breeches are very tight.”
Breeches? Did he mean his pants? They were getting tighter. How was he supposed to drive like this? “Get in,” he growled. “I can’t wait to get you alone.”
Speed demon that he was, they made it to Court’s in record time, barely long enough for him to suck back his second bottle of water. Court made him thirsty. Made him impatient too, taking forever to open the goddamn door with those twitchy fingers he always got when he was excited.
“Help yourself to the shower,” Court offered, flinging Dane’s pack and cleats onto the discarded shoes by the door. “Want a drink?”
“No. I want you.” Startling Courtenay was so easy. “And I plan on getting you.” Court stumbled over a stray shoe and then his own feet backing into the kitchen. The blue eyes were open wide with alarm, but the sexy, easy smile remained. “Come here, babe.”
“You’re a pushy bastard. Good thing you look damn fine in that uniform.”
Court couldn’t back up any farther; he’d reached the countertop. Dane put his hands on either side of the cornered body, gripped the Formica lip and imprisoned him neatly. Kissing Court was fucking awesome, and it was no wonder he wanted to do it all the time. Being aggressive and not fighting his nature, Dane stuck his tongue in the other man’s mouth immediately and forcefully. Court’s gasp of shock went straight to Dane’s dick. Sliding his knee between Court’s legs, Dane shoved the long legs apart and used the extra space for his own restless leg. Now there was more room to press his groin nice and tight against Court’s and rub eager body parts together.
Uh-huh. First base already. Court was being cooperative tonight, and it was about damned time. What was he fighting? There was obviously something good going on between them. Every friggin’ time they touched, it was like being zapped with electricity. Not quite as powerfully as that first time on the deck—that had really been something—but the first touch after being apart always brought on a little lightning storm he’d come to like very much. Always wanted to be a storm chaser, and it really was true, there was nothing better than getting your fondest wish.
“You’re all riled up tonight, aren’t you?” Court panted after Dane had finally quit shoving his tongue down his throat. Stupid need to breathe always interrupted the good stuff.
“Playing ball always does it to me.”
“You were hot tonight.”
“Were? Were?”
“You’re always hot,” he agreed, sliding a hand along Dane’s hip until it found his ass. “But I meant you played good. You’re fast.”
“Squeeze harder, babe.” The fondling hand obeyed. “Teddy could never catch me. I was such a little shit, I had to be fast. He’d have pounded me to a bloody pulp if he ever caught me.” The fondling felt very good and required some earlobe biting in return. “I love your hands on me.” Was so nice finally finding a man who liked necking as much as he did. “Stop fighting it, Court.”
A twitch—just a little one. Dane felt it ripple under his tongue where it was busy licking down Court’s neck. “I’m…I’m not—”
“Oh, yes you are. You’re fighting it with everything you got.”
“Am not.”
“Come upstairs with me.” So he couldn’t argue, Dane kissed him again. Courtenay wasn’t fighting that very hard. Seemed to be really getting into it, kissing him back with such skill and determination Dane might have to do a little twitching of his own, and not just his cock, either. That had been twitching for quite some time already. “Don’t be afraid.”
“I’m not afraid of you.”
“Then what are you afraid of? It’s not that big.”
Gone was the nice fondling. Court smacked Dane’s ass.
“Come on, babe. Tell me. We can spit out the truth with each other. You know that.”
The startling blue of Court’s eyes struck him once again. Was he trying to see into his soul or something? Maybe they were a tad creepy. “I’m afraid of…”
Giving him a nudge of encouragement, Dane slid his fingers into the hair at his nape, gently cupped his head and kissed him softly between the eyes, making them close. There was far too much dark knowledge in those sad eyes, and he could take only a little at a time. “Afraid of…?”
“Liking you,” he confessed.
Another kiss, this time on the lips. No tongue. “I was under the impression you already liked me.”
“Liking you…a lot.”
Available January 10, 2012 from Samhain Publishing: