Page 37 of Double Play

Fighting the animalistic urge, I hold her tighter, her back plastered to my front, until I’m certain she won’t disappear. That I haven’t dreamed up this fantasy.

India Baker is in my arms again.

With a shaky hand, I reach for her body wash, squirt some in my palm and lather up. Starting at her shoulders, I massage more than wash her, taking my time to rub her upper arms before circling her breasts.

“I’m going to have the cleanest breasts in all womankind,” she teases.

That mouth. God, have I missed her.

“I’m nothing if not thorough,” I state.

She softly chuckles. The rumble of her body ripples against mine as I keep her close, continuing to work over her body, gentling my strokes over her hips.

“I left a mark.” My brows pinch when I notice the red spots against her hips.

She tilts her head and brushes at her skin. “Maybe I’ll get a tattoo there.”

I laugh, though somberly. What will she think when she sees the tattoo I have?

With that thought, I struggle to right my pants. They’re ruined from the water, but I don’t remove them. Instead, I concentrate on her by swiping delicately between her legs and massaging her inner thighs.

India is still fit with a tad more meat to her body than I remember. The fullness suits her. The roundness of her hips. The tension in her legs. She’s a perfect eleven out of ten.

Suddenly, she spins in my arms. “When did you get in?”

“The team landed roughly two hours ago.” I pause. “What are you doing here?”

“I should ask you the same thing.” She arches a teasing brow as her hands slip down my chest to the waistband of my boxer briefs.

“Isaiah said I could use the house.” He told me if I needed some space, wanted time alone, perhaps needed some clarity, I could crash here. As I’ve been all mixed up about India this seemed like the perfect place for perspective.

“Hmm.” India’s lids lower as she tugs at my pants, shoving them down my hips.

“And you . . .” I tip up her chin, wanting her to look me in the eye and explain her unexpected presence.

“The Den is televising several away games this season. Colorado is one of our road trips.”

How did I not know this? Then again, I don’t keep up with the streaming service’s schedule other than when I’m needed.

“So, you’ll be here for the next three nights?” Including tonight.

“I’m taking a late flight on Thursday because we have a day off.”

The ESP Awards are that night in Hollywood and one of our own will be honored there, but attendance isn’t required for anyone else on the team or the coaches.

My first thought, contemplating changing my flight from late night Wednesday to accompany her on Thursday.

When her hand swipes over my damp hair, I bring my gaze to her silvery eyes. Leaning forward, I kiss the tip of her nose.

“Hey,” I whisper, feeling like I didn’t properly greet her. I scared her. She screamed. Then, I kissed her, and now, we are here, staring at one another.

She winks, breaking the tension. “Hiya, handsome.”

Anxiety creeps up on me that maybe I rushed this moment.

We should have talked.

But India has a squirt of body wash in her hand, and she’s spreading it over my chest, combing her fingers through the smattering of hair on my pecs.