Free Bases Loaded (Mustangs Baseball) by Roz Lee

file drawer and silenced the metronome tick-tocking away on
her desk. She never should have answered the call, but when his name appeared
on the caller ID, she had practically gone into cardiac arrest. She’d been
starved for the sound of his voice. Couldn’t get the feel of his hands on her
out of her head. Couldn’t breathe without missing his scent.
    She had just
crammed the latest set of ungraded test papers into her briefcase when he
filled her doorway. One look at him and she realized she wanted nothing more
than to play every game in the book with him. If only he would ask.
    Leaning against
the jamb, his arms crossed over his chest and one knee bent, he looked like a
billboard for sex. Want sex? Call-800-Antonio . Warmth flooded her
system, and she swallowed hard.
    “You done, babe?”
    She nodded, not
trusting her voice.
    He straightened
and took a step inside, closing the door behind him. He folded his hands behind
his back and leaned his shoulders on the door. No one wore a T-shirt like
Antonio Ramirez. The fabric wasn’t tight, but it clung to his hard chest and
abs. He shifted slightly, drawing her attention lower. Tight jeans left no
doubt as to his state of arousal.
    “I tried to stay
away. I tried to tell myself you needed time, that I could wait to have you,
but I was lying to myself.” One hand moved to the doorknob. “I want you. Right
here. Right now.” His index finger and thumb closed over the lock mechanism.
“If you feel the same way, say yes, and I’ll lock the door.”
    Oh, God. Oh,
God. Oh, God. Did she feel the same? Hell, yes! Her body throbbed with want
and need.
    Her mind raced through
practicalities and details. Here? What if a student comes by? The hell with
office hours. Underwear? Not sexy, but decent . She’d shaved and trimmed
this morning—thank God. It was now or never. How many times would she get an
offer like this? Never again, she was sure.
    She clenched her
hands into fists in her lap and squared her shoulders. So what if he only
wanted a fuck buddy until he found someone more to his liking in Dallas? She’d
have to be insane to turn down an opportunity like this.
    “Yes,” she said.
    Before she
finished the single syllable, he set the lock and pushed away from the door.
    Her heart leapt
into her throat. This had to be a dream. Maybe she’d nodded off and her
subconscious was having a field day. She dug her fingernails into her palms
until the pain told her she was awake.
    His legs made
short work of her small office. Her feet shuffled, spinning her chair to face
him as he rounded her desk. Antonio leaned over and placed his hands on the
arms of her chair, boxing her in and surrounding her with his now familiar
scent. Desire pulsed through her system.
    “Don’t move,” he
said, sinking to his knees in front of her. He parted her legs and filled the
space with his body. A shaft of late afternoon light crowned his head,
burnishing his blue-black hair with gold highlights. “How much time do we
have?”
    Her brain
scrambled for an answer. “Um…. My office hours are almost over, so…as long as
we want?”
    His smile almost
melted her panties. “Oh, babe, you don’t know how happy I am to hear that.”
    He cupped her
knees then slid beneath her skirt, up to where her underwear banded her thighs.
Clare stared at the bunched fabric covering his hands. So close.
    “These have to
go.” His thumbs brushed cotton, found the elastic at the top, and tugged.
Somehow, he lifted her and slipped the conservative garment to mid-thigh
without her help. Then they landed on top of her desk in a twisted heap, and he
was right back between her knees, only this time his fingers teased the short
curls beneath her skirt.
    “Your skin is
silk. I could touch you all day, Clare, but I need to see you. The other day,
at the spa…I can’t get it out of my mind. Can I see you like that again?”
    “Yes.” A slight
nod accompanied the whispered word.
    “Unbutton your
blouse for me,