He laughed. “No. I was going to fix breakfast. Unless you have some objection to that.”
“Uh, no. No objection.”
“Good.” He laid his empty glass in the sink and grabbed a pan from under the counter. “I’m going to make bacon. I hope that doesn’t offend you.”
She couldn’t help the smile that quirked her lips. “I won’t run screaming as long as you don’t make me eat it.”
“Fine. You go work or something. I’ll cook.”
“How do you know what I want?”
“Eggs. I’m going to mix some vegetables in with it. Then I’ll cut up some fruit, too. Would you like some yogurt?”
She sighed. He was just too good at this. She was going to have to keep her distance when she wasn’t working with him. “That all sounds great, but I can help.”
“It’s okay. I’ve got this.”
She went into the bedroom and grabbed her notebook, brought it out to the table, and tried to finish up her treatment plan, but it was hard to work when Garrett was cooking. Hot man in the kitchen? There was nothing sexier. He cracked eggs, sliced fruit, and she was certain he sizzled hotter than the bacon, which actually smelled delicious. Too bad she gave up meat five years ago.
She finally couldn’t take doing nothing, so she got up, poured juice, and set the table. By then breakfast was ready, and Garrett filled their plates.
They sat at the table and ate. The omelets were delicious.
“You’re very good at this cooking thing.”
He waved a piece of bacon at her. “Amazing what a guy can do when he has to fend for himself.”
“And you had to fend for yourself a lot?”
“Totally. You should feel sorry for me.”
“This is where you’re going to tell me you were homeless, you had to forage in the streets for food, you survived by using your street smarts, and you were some kind of baseball prodigy. That’s how you got your scholarship, right?”
“You must have read the Time Magazine article about me. Dammit, and I wanted to impress you with my backstory. Now you’ve ruined it.”
“Ha ha. Seriously, tell me about your family. I’m sure you were raised by loving parents and you’re as boring as me.”
He laughed and shoved a forkful of eggs in his mouth, followed by a couple of gulps of orange juice. “Yeah, just like your story. Very uneventful.”
“I’m so disappointed.”
He grinned. “I’m surprised you’re not weeping into your napkin.”
“So, what you’re telling me is you had a very happy childhood, raised by two parents who adore each other, and there are no skeletons in your closet.”
He popped a piece of cantaloupe in his mouth. “That’s me. I’m pretty dull.”
She finished her omelet and set it aside. “That’s not what I’ve read. I read that you love to party, all women adore you and want to have your babies, but you steadfastly remain single. You haven’t had a single serious relationship despite your immense popularity with the opposite sex, and you’ll be turning thirty this year.”
“Ancient, I know. I might as well hang it up now.”
“Usually, all the sports studs carry on with some famous actress or model.”
“And yet here I am, unattached.”
“Maybe you’re gay.”
He arched a brow, searing her with his gaze. “Give me an hour in the bedroom and I’ll prove that theory wrong.”
Alicia’s entire body went up in flames. She knew she shouldn’t have baited Garrett that way, but they were having such an easy, fun conversation. He liked teasing her, and despite her attempts at wanting to establish boundaries with him, she couldn’t help but respond to him. So she teased him back. All the distance she’d tried to create had evaporated with that one comment.
The look he’d given her, the way he’d said the words, and the challenge in them filled her mind with images of what he could do with her in the bedroom during that hour.
She realized it had been a very, very long dry spell for her in the sex department. Between finishing up her master’s and getting her certification, then interning and working, sex had been more or less an afterthought for a long time. It was only natural for her body—and her mind—to want to jump all over the first really hot guy she was stuck in close quarters with. And she and Garrett had been together a lot—with her focus on his body. Of course she would feel connected to him in such a physical way.
Unfortunately, said hot guy attached to said hot body was most definitely off-limits.
“So . . . you game?”
She realized he was still watching her in a rather predatory fashion.
She blinked a few times to clear her head of all those dirty thoughts her mind had conjured up. “What? Game for what?”
“Me proving my utter heterosexuality to you.”
“Uh, no. Definitely not.”
He laughed. “I thought not. You’ll just have to take my word for it, then.”
She didn’t need to take his word for it. He’d already proved it once when he’d kissed her. The memory of just how much of a man he was had been seared into every part of her body.
He got up and cleared the table. At a loss for a comeback, she helped him, nudging him out of the way so she could do the dishes.
“You cooked. I’ll clean up.”
“Sounds like a deal. I need a shower, anyway.”
When he left the room, she exhaled. Maybe his disappearance would allow her pulse rate to return to normal. Though she didn’t know what to do about her tingling nipples and throbbing pussy. That problem would likely have to be solved in the privacy of her bedroom tonight.
Or maybe Garrett would let her borrow his amazing shower with all those pulsing jets. She could have one hell of an orgasm in no time at all if she could direct one of those jets in the direction of her clit.
And once again, she thought of him in the shower, where he was right now. Only she was thinking of climbing in the shower with him, wrapping her hand around his cock, and massaging his ache at the same time she got herself off.
She’d wager that, like the rest of him, his cock was spectacular and that when he got hard, he knew exactly what to do with it. As she slipped her hands under the hot water, sliding a plate under to rinse it, she thought of what his cock would feel like as the shower water poured over both of them. Garrett’s hands would smooth down her back to cup her butt, drawing her closer to his erection. She’d spread her legs so he could spear his cock inside her, shoving her against the wall as he did.
Sex with him would be hard. Passionate. All consuming. Oh so satisfying.
Her pussy clenched at the mental visual, and she drew closer to the kitchen counter, needing an orgasm so badly that just about any type of friction would get her there. But her hands were wet, and she had no idea how fast a shower Garrett took, so she wouldn’t chance it. If she were alone, she wouldn’t care. She’d dip her wet hands down the front of her shorts and take care of the matter right here. In her current state it wouldn’t take long to get off.
If she hurried and finished the dishes, she could run into the bedroom and take care of this problem, and then maybe she could concentrate on her job instead of thinking about Garrett and his hot, thick—
“I feel a lot better now.”
She whirled around, water flying everywhere. “What? I was just doing dishes.”
His lips curved as he walked in. “I see that. Need some help?”
“No. Just finishing up with the last pan here.” Her cheeks flushed hot, but she had no idea why she was blushing. Garrett had no idea that she’d been fantasizing about him, so she needed to calm down. She finished washing the pan and dried her hands.
“I’m going to . . . uh . . . brush my teeth and floss. I’ll be right back.”
He looked up from the spot he’d taken on the sofa. “Sure.”
She fled down the hall and shut the door to the bedroom, locking it behind her.
Two minutes. That’s all she needed. An ease of tension, a release. Once she got that, she’d stop thinking about him, and she’d be normal again, instead of some crazy, libido-driven lunatic on the verge of a breakdown.
She lay down on the bed and took a deep breath, blew it out, then slid her hand inside her shorts.
She was still hot, bothered, and throbbing; the mere touch of her hand on her pussy sent her hips arching upward. She bit back the moan, though the bedroom was a long way from the living room. She could probably scream out loud, and Garrett wouldn’t hear her. But she wasn’t confident he’d stay in there, so she kept quiet as she skated her fingers over her swollen flesh. She closed her eyes, imagining Garrett pushing her up against the kitchen counter, dragging her shorts down, and putting his mouth on her aching sex.
“Yes,” she whispered. “Yes, right there.”
He had a sexy mouth, and she wanted it on her pussy. She bit down on her lip and rubbed her clit, already so close to coming she dug her heels into the mattress. But she wanted to delay, just a few more seconds, to enjoy the buildup as she envisioned him dipping two fingers inside her while he captured her clit between his lips. And when she tucked her fingers into her pussy, she couldn’t hold back the moan that escaped, nor could she suppress the cry of delight as she released, tunneling her fingers deep and using the heel of her hand to rub against her clit.
She let her hips fall against the bed and breathed in and out, realizing that all she’d done was take the edge off.
The desire, the need—it was still there.
* * *
FUCK. GARRETT KNEW HE SHOULDN’T HAVE GONE TOWARD his room. If he’d stayed in the living room, he wouldn’t have walked down the hall past Alicia’s bedroom, wouldn’t have heard the clear moan she’d made, wouldn’t have figured out that she was in there masturbating.
His cock had gone fully hard in about three fucking seconds. And like some goddamn voyeur, instead of giving her privacy to get off, he’d lingered by the door and listened, hoping to hear more. He heard her breathing, whispering, and gasping when she came.
He’d never heard anything sweeter or anything that had turned him on more. As soon as he heard her moving around he’d hustled back out to the living room, then realized he should have gone to his room and jacked off. Now he had a hard-on he needed to get rid of in a hurry. But what if he tried to go to his room now, and she came out? It would be difficult to explain the erection sprouting in his pants. Alicia was smart—she’d figure out he’d overheard her.
So now he was stuck sitting on the sofa with a fucking pillow on his lap, feeling like a dumbass.
No good ever came from eavesdropping.
He just needed to breathe and think about unpleasant things.
Like therapy. And maybe never pitching again. Letting his team and his fans down.
Yeah, that took care of his erection.
Until Alicia came out of the bedroom, doing her best to look innocent, like nothing had happened. Except he’d been with plenty of women in his life, and he’d given a lot of them orgasms. And that rosy-cheeked look on her face was a dead giveaway.
“Sorry,” she said, not meeting his gaze. “I finished unpacking while I was in there.”
Since his balls were tied up in knots, he was a little resentful of her happy, I-just-came-and-you-didn’t glow. “Hope it all went okay in there.”
She cocked her head to the side. “Huh?”
“I mean, are there enough hangers? Do you have enough closet space?”
“Oh. Yes, it’s an awesome bedroom.”
Yeah, it had sounded pretty awesome.
She put her hands on her hips. “So, are you ready to get started?”
He clutched the pillow tighter. “I’m going to need a few minutes.”