Worth the Trade (More Than A Game) by Kristina Mathews Page B

shrugged.
    “Maybe you’re trying too hard,” Javier echoed Hunter’s words. “Do me a favor. Take tomorrow off.”
    “You’re benching me?” He shouldn’t be surprised, but still… It was a blow to the old ego. He hadn’t been benched since junior high, when they still had mandatory playing time.
    “No. I mean take tomorrow off from the extra batting practice.” Javier put a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t come to the ballpark until you have to. Take a cable car ride. Go see a movie. Do something not related to baseball.”
    “Yeah. I’ll think of something.” Marco wasn’t sure if it would help, because it wasn’t baseball that was screwing with his head.
    “There’s your problem right there.” Javier tapped his forehead. “You’re thinking too much. You need to relax. I know it’s hard coming to a new city. A new clubhouse. A new routine. You need to find some way to ease the tension.”
    “Yeah. Well, I usually do that by hitting the batting cage.”
    “Try something else.” Marco didn’t need his manager telling him he needed to get laid. He’d been fine for months without sex. Had the best start of his career by forgetting about women. Focusing on his career. Working out a little more on the off-season. Coming into spring training leaner, stronger, and ready to make a run for it.
    Sex was the furthest thing from his mind.
    Until he set foot in that limo. Until he met Hunter Collins. Until he kissed her and only made things worse.
    * * * *
    Hunter wasn’t surprised to find Marco was the last one in the clubhouse. He’d been the first to arrive, the last to leave every day since he joined the team. He worked harder than any other player, but he wasn’t getting the results they’d hoped for. He was officially in a major slump.
    Looking at him hunched in front of his locker, it was easy to see why. The tension in his shoulders was obvious even from clear across the room. No wonder he couldn’t get a good swing off. He was too tight. Too wound up.
    She needed to help him loosen up.
    The carpet softened the sound of her footsteps. But he was so far into his own head, she doubted he would have heard her approach wearing tap shoes on ceramic tile.
    She placed her hands on his shoulders, and he tensed even more.
    “What are you doing here?” His voice was just as tight as his shoulders.
    “Trying to help you relax.” She slowly started to knead his rock hard muscles. They didn’t give. She tried again, but she didn’t have enough strength in her fingers.
    He held his body stiff, unable or unwilling to give in to her.
    She moved her hands to rub the back of his neck. Then she ran her fingers through his thick dark hair and started massaging his scalp.
    A nearly inaudible groan came from deep in his throat.
    Progress.
    She moved closer, her breasts pressed against his back. His muscles tightened. The opposite of what she was trying to do.
    “Marco,” she whispered into his ear. “Relax. I’m not going to hurt you.”
    She brushed her lips across his neck, just below his ear and he trembled.
    He smelled so good. She couldn’t help herself. She flicked her tongue out to taste him.
    “Mmmmm.” That’s better. Some of his tension released as she moved her mouth down his neck.
    “You’re going to kill me, woman.” He groaned.
    “I think I’d rather seduce you.”
    He reached around, pulled her onto his lap, and captured her mouth with his.
    She dug her fingers through his hair as he plunged his tongue in her mouth. She could taste his desperation, his need to prove himself to her.
    He grabbed her hips and positioned her over the thick hard ridge of his erection. She was getting through to him. As he deepened the kiss, she moved against him, sending little quivers of pleasure straight through her body. Even through their clothes, she could feel him throbbing. Straining. Pressing her into him. Bringing her to the edge before lifting her to her feet.
    “Let’s get out of here.”