Why didn’t Elliot look happy?
He’s better now.
I think Rue brought a new purpose into his life. She made him look at everything differently, because he had someone who needed him. He reminds me of Rick in that way. Some men in this world are born to be fathers.
There’s no scientific evidence backing me up, but every time I see Elliot and Rue together, it rings true. They have the kind of connection you can’t force or teach or grow into. Two peas in a heart-stealing, chin-dimpled pod.
I’m not foolish enough to think I’m part of the equation at all.
“You’re still holding it wrong.”
“I am?” I shake off the introspection and study my high grip on the bat, keeping my expression blank. “That’s not what you said the other night.”
Not to disrespect my first real lesson or the sanctity of the pastime, but I need an Elliot fix more than grip-placement pointers. Acting like a smartass while mixing in some sexual innuendo has worked in the past.
“So, when you said you wanted to help me check out the new equipment, this wasn’t what you were talking about?” he asks.
“Sure it was. Throw me a slider. A changeup. A special Ransom screwball on speed. Whatever.”
His smirk is obvious, even from this distance. “You’re saying words, but I’m not convinced you know what they mean.”
“You can quiz me later. Let’s go. If I hit it, you have to take me upstairs to break in your new desk.”
He shifts on his makeshift mound, adjusting himself with a grimace. Gotcha. “And if I strike you out?”
“You have to take me upstairs to break in your new desk. Harder.”
He licks his lips, touching the rim of his ball cap with a sexy nod. I wiggle my ass and stick it out in the worst batter pose I can manage, ready to claim my prize. On his desk.
He’s turned me into a sex fiend.
Elliot winds up, glances behind him and then the ball is coming at me like a meteor breaking the sound barrier.
“Kevin Costner!” I use the name as a curse when I jump out of the way of Elliot’s death missile instead of swinging. I swear I felt a tiny sonic boom as that thing screamed past my face to lodge into the netting behind me. “You didn’t want to take it easy on the new guy? You could have cracked my skull open, and then you’d have no one to worship your beautiful ass.”
“It didn’t come anywhere near you. I made sure of it.”
“You threw it like that on purpose?” I stomp over to the fake mound, turning my new ballcap around and getting right in his face. His gaze drops to my mouth. “This is when I tell you that’s bullshit and if you don’t straighten up and win this game for the team, you’re outta here,” I growl in my best grizzled coach impression.
“Are you playing with me?”
“Aren’t we playing with each other?”
Instead of answering, he bends his knees and tosses me over his shoulder, then heads toward the stairs. Thank God.
“Wait” I say breathlessly. “I thought I got three strikes.”
“I’ll give you three smacks on your ass,” he mutters.
“That would make me feel like part of the team. I noticed you guys do that a lot.”
He tightens his grip on my thighs and climbs the steps with a swiftness that’s impressive. I’m not two hundred pounds of pure muscle or anything, but I am a grown man. He’s not even winded when he sets me down.
I cross my arms. “You can’t just carry me around like a sack of flour whenever you want to.”
Yes, you can. Anytime you want to. Do it again.
He crowds me until I’m backing up towards his desk. “Joan is taking the girls to dinner after swim lessons.”
They’re all enjoying swimming now that there are fewer lessons and his mother has stopped showing up. And I might have been the one to suggest dinner to his sister. My treat.
“So, what you’re saying is we have a few hours to play?” I ask suggestively.
He kisses me quick, then turns me around, flinging my cap across the room and guiding me with a firm hand on the back of my neck that makes me instantly hard. He kicks aside the chair so we can stand in front of his desk with a good view of the door.
“I guess that is what you’re saying.”
My sweet Cavill clone of a neighbor has turned into a sexy beast since we started this thing between us. The more we’re together, the more confident he is about what we both want. Elliot in control.
I feel his lips at my temple, a tender brush before he adds pressure to my neck to bend me over his desk. Yes. He reaches around to undo my pants before pushing them down to my ankles.