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His mouth came down on hers, kissing her with passion. Amanda leaned into him, not willing to think about the future, or even the past. Only this moment.
He whispered her name and then deepened the kiss. The long, hard length of his arousal settled between her legs. Brad lifted her, hands around her backside, positioning her against the far wall. When he set her back down, he held on to one of her legs, wrapping it around his hip. He kissed her as he slid into her willing body, sinking deep. He braced one hand on the wall above her head, anchoring them as they started to move together. This wasn’t the wild passion they’d often experienced. This was slow, sensual lovemaking.
Their hips rocked in unison, a tantalizing dance matching the long, hot strokes of their tongues. She explored every inch of his delicious torso. Beneath her palms he flexed, taut skin over sexy muscle. She couldn’t get enough of him and pressed her body tight to his, her nipples nestled in the soft hair of his chest. If she could have climbed under his skin, she would have.
He responded to her silent demands, settling his hands on her backside, and angled her hips to take him deeper and deeper. She gasped with the heavy strokes of his cock teasing the sweetest of places. Her actions begged for more, begged him not to stop.
Murmuring his name, she kissed his shoulder, his neck. She buried her face there, clinging to him as he responded to her with a hard thrust. And another. Over and over he pumped his cock into her, taking and giving. Giving and taking.
And then, without warning, Amanda exploded. No slow build. No suggestion of what was to come. Just a sudden wave of spasms delivering jolts of pleasure so intense they rendered her paralyzed. Distantly, she heard him say her name, felt him shudder, and knew he, too, had found satisfaction.
They clung to one another, bodies sated and wet. It was as if they both feared that by speaking, the moment would end.
Brad rested his forehead to hers. “I’ve never had a woman do what you do to me. I want you in my life, Amanda. We can find a way around our challenges. Tell me you want that.”
There was no place for logic in her response. There was only the answer in her heart. “I do.”
***
HOURS LATER, Amanda sat behind the desk in her room typing her story about Tony. Her boss was waiting eagerly for the finished product. She wore shorts and a tank top, feeling comfortable and happy. Wearing only his boxers, Brad lay across the bed, ice pack on his arm as he watched ESPN. Like her father, Brad could watch sports nonstop. Good thing she could, too. She smiled as he mumbled about a bad call some umpire had made. Having him here, simply hanging out with her, felt wonderful.
She still couldn’t believe he’d shown up in her shower. Nor could she believe how happy she was. How fulfilled. They were taking a flight home to L.A. together, separate from the team. That would allow them to discuss how to get through all their complications.
Brad pushed off the bed, dropping his ice pack in the bucket on the nightstand and walked behind her. He settled his hands on her shoulders, gently kneading her tense muscles. “How’s it going?”
She punched a final key to send the story to Kevin and swiveled around in her chair, holding on to one of Brad’s hands as she smiled up at him. “All done. With Tony’s story, at least. Your story will run a few days from now so I’m not rushed on it.”
He tugged her to her feet and into his arms. “If I wear a disguise, will you sneak into a movie with me?”
She smiled. The idea of sneaking into a movie sounded wonderful. Maybe one day they wouldn’t have to sneak. “Only if that offer includes a giant popcorn.”
“I’ll get you two giant popcorns if it’ll get me a movie date.”
She laughed. “You’re on.”
His gaze swept her face, admiration washing over his features. “You were great with Coach. You earned a lot of trust today, Amanda. Do you really think people will judge you for being with me?”
She knew she’d made progress today but not enough to change the perceptions female reporters battled in the industry. If only it could be different. “Of course, they will. Jack will say you’re the reason I got these stories.”
“Mike Martin from the Sox is married to a female reporter.”
“Good thing she’s female.”
“Always a smart-ass.” He played with a loose strand of her hair. “My point is that their relationship is accepted.”
But she and Brad weren’t married. And she felt awkward mentioning that. The depth of what she felt for him in such a short time scared the hell out of her. So much so, she suddenly needed a bit of space, uncomfortable with how transparent this conversation might make her.
