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21
Taran wasn’t sure exactly what she was doing, even as she lifted her hand to knock. She’d left the bar intending to go back to her room, but here she stood in front of Corey’s. Although hooking up with him while traveling with the team was a huge no-no, she couldn’t just ignore the chemistry between them. They at least needed to talk.
Bridget’s words sent a buzz through her system. The idea that Corey wanted her made her stomach jump and her body pulse with electric energy. She felt more alive than she had in years. And she couldn’t stop herself from chasing those feelings.
“I swear, if you’re already back, you’re an idiot.” Corey’s voice came through the door. “Seriously, man, if I had the chance you’ve got, I wouldn’t be running back to my room.”
Who would Corey be expecting? And what chance would he want?
“And why the hell can’t you remember to bring your key—” The door yanked open. Corey cocked his head to the side as his eyes widened.
It clicked together. The guys all had roommates. Corey stayed with Daily. Did Corey mean he wanted a chance with Bridget?
“Taran?”
Was the reason nothing happened with Bridget because she didn’t want Corey? Or was it because Corey wouldn’t go after someone Luke had dated, even if he wanted her? Taran’s stomach dropped. This was a bad idea.
“Taran?” Corey repeated, confusion still in his voice.
“Sorry,” she said and shook her head. “Never mind.”
She spun to walk away, but his warm hand locked in a fierce grip on her forearm, pulling her inside the room. The door clicked shut behind them, and she stepped back against it. Corey’s bare arm came up, resting above her head, boxing her in. Her body flared at the heat radiating off him as he stood in the white tank top and dress pants.
“No way. You just heard me say I wouldn’t walk away from a chance I wanted,” he growled. “You don’t get to show up at my door and then run away either, Smurfette.”
She glanced down at her blue hoodie, but her eyes landed on his chest. The tank top was too tight to hide his muscular frame. She could see the defined muscles of his chest leading into six-pack abs. Just as her gaze hit his belt, he spoke again.
“Eyes up. I need some words, Taran. Your body language confuses the fuck out of me, and I’m dying here.” The hoarse words whispered against her ear.
A shiver raced down her spine as he cupped her neck with one hand.
His gaze met her straight on. “I’ve told you repeatedly—I’m interested, but I’m not sure where you stand.”
“You went out with Bridget tonight.”
He nodded. His eyes tracked her face before they met hers again. At that moment, she realized that he was deciding whether he trusted her. “I’m playing like shit. I needed to get out of my head, and I needed someone to talk things out with. She’s a friend. Just a friend, but one I trust. Management is pissed because every game is worse than the next. And I know what the problem is—you.”
Her body jerked as her temper flared. What the hell? Was he going to blame her for his crappy pitching? Her shoulders pulled back as she slammed her finger into his chest.
“You don’t get to put your problems on me. If you’re playing like shit, that’s on you.”
He pulled on her neck and leaned down, bringing them to eye level. Their noses were almost touching, and Taran sucked in a hard breath. His heated gaze pinned her to the door. The inside ring of brown in his eyes turned to butterscotch, while the outside looked more like warm chocolate.
“You are the reason I threw crap again today. You’re making me crazy.” Every word pounded against her lips as they left his mouth. “Management knows pitchers are creatures of habit, and no one thinks it’s odd that the head case of the team isn’t handling it well because a reporter is traveling with us. I didn’t even need to tell them I—want isn’t a strong enough statement. I’m pretty sure I’m starting to need you like my next breath of air.”
Ten seconds ago, she was pissed, and now she was once again turned inside out.
She watched him stare as she wet her lips.
“Shit—I give up,” he mumbled.
He dropped his lips to meet hers. She shouldn’t be doing this, but his mouth possessed hers in a way she wanted so badly.
Rational thought left as his lips demanded she open for him. When she did, he dove into her mouth like a man dying of thirst—for the substance only she could provide. He leaned into her, sending her back into the door behind her, locking her between it and his rock-hard chest. She desperately clung to his broad shoulders while he hitched one of her legs over his hip. The second one followed as they locked together, only a few layers of clothing stopping them from truly being one. Heat against heat, they rocked frantically into each other.
Taran moaned, arching against him, wanting more. The aching need settled deep inside her core. Corey pivoted quickly across the room to lower her down softly onto a bed. And then his glorious weight was on top of her. Her breasts brushed into his hard, defined chest, their stomachs pressed into each other, and the entire length of him settled into the apex of her legs. Both sucked in a breath and stared for a heartbeat, neither moving.
Corey slammed his mouth down and reclaimed hers as her hips bucked off the bed into him.
