Sparks of Love Read online

  His thumb pressed against my clit, and I lit up like a fireworks’ grand finale, screaming his name. His fingers kept pumping in and out of me as the orgasm sent wave after wave of pleasure through me. He shifted beneath me, but my eyes were closed as I rode out my orgasm, my body twitching and jerking with the last zings of my climax.

  He pulled his fingers from me, and I was left feeling empty. I rolled my head forward, my hands going to his shoulders as I watched him lift his hips and push his jeans down his thighs, his cock popping out. I was still shocked at the size of him. He pulled the denim down a little more, then grabbed the condom he’d pulled from somewhere. I watched him as he eagerly sheathed his shaft with the condom.

  “I want you to ride me.”

  I nodded and lifted myself up. Jason roughly moved my skirt, so it was around my stomach and out of his way. Gripping my hips, he guided me over him, positioned my pussy right over his dick, then slowly, inch-by-inch pulled me onto his body.

  I let out a low groan once I was completely seated on him. I was so full, and the way his dark brown eyes were blazing with desire was enough to set me on fire. My thirst for him was hardly quenched. I used his shoulders to help gain leverage so I could fuck him, bringing my hips up, then slamming back down onto him.

  “Fuck, yeah, Blaze. Just like that.”

  The look in his eyes and the way his fingers dug into my hips made me feel powerful, desired, sexy. He was hard and moaning because of me, because he was hot for me. I rode him harder, feeling the ache of need. I wanted release, and I wanted him to come.

  He played with my breasts and licked and kissed me everywhere he could reach. I was lost in the rhythm and pleasure of him, then I was right there at the edge. His thumb rubbing against my clit, I cried out as it spun me into an intense orgasm. I slammed down hard against him, my pussy pulling him deeper. Lifting me, his hands on the back of my thigh, I gasped and tried to cling to him, afraid he was going to drop me.

  But he didn’t. He laid me on my back, adjusted me on the sofa. His pelvis pushed between my thighs, spreading them wide. He thrust back into me with a throaty growl, his fingers digging into my hips.

  As I clenched and pulsed around his cock, he gripped me roughly and thrust into me with abandon, like he had no other choice. His motions were fast and hard. He leaned down and buried his face in my neck, his teeth scraping my skin. Then the wet slapping sounds grew louder, and he was fucking into me so hard, it hurt—but it hurt so good. His teeth sank into my shoulder, sending powerful currents of pleasure all over me.

  And then he was coming. Feeling him pulse and throbbing inside of me, his teeth on my neck sent me into another orgasm. It was short and intense, and left me breathless.

  Jason pulled back and slipped out of me.

  “You wreck me.”

  I placed my hand on his chest, feeling his heart hammer against my palm. The satisfied expression on his face left me breathless and a little dumbfounded.

  When he got up, no doubt to get rid of the condom, I slowly pulled myself up, so I was sitting. My body was too noodley to get up, get dressed, and flee, and I found I really didn’t want to.

  He came back wearing only boxer briefs. “I thought you’d be halfway out the door already.” He wasn’t trying very hard to bite back his smug grin.

  “I’m not entirely sure I can walk, Calaveras.”

  “Excellent.” He flopped down on the couch next to me. “How about we move to the bedroom? You can get out of the rest of your clothes and your shoes.”

  I glanced down at my Chuck Taylor’s, toeing them off, along with my ankle socks. I stood up and tugged my skirt back into place, realizing how ridiculous it was since I was naked everywhere else. Unbuttoning it, I let it drop to my feet, stepped out of it, and made my way into his bedroom. Shouldn’t I be ashamed of my body or try to hide it?

  Fuck that. It was freeing, owning my body. It was my body, and it looked the way it looked. Hiding under a blanket or in the dark wouldn’t change that.

  “I don’t know which view I like better,” Jason groaned from behind me.

  If I got reactions like that, I could be convinced to walk around naked more often.

  Jason wrapped his arms around me from behind and walked us to the foot of the bed.

  “You could stay the night.” His hands slid down over my stomach, and I tried not to cringe. I took a slow breath and let the tension ease out of me. Freeing—I wanted to be free of shame and guilt. I wanted this. I wanted him. Then he was sliding back up to my breasts, and I shivered.

  “I have to work tomorrow.”

  “I have an alarm clock.”

  “Let’s just see how the rest of the night goes.”

  “Maybe I can fuck you into submission.”

  My breath hitched in my throat.

  “There’s a challenge if I ever heard one.” Damn, I couldn’t rid the breathiness from my voice if my life depended on it.

  Jason chuckled as he nipped at my earlobe, already growing hard against my ass.

  “I’m willing to give it the old college try.”

  The problem with spending the night—it meant there was something more than sex going on. I couldn’t sleep, but he was out like a light after round three. Or was it four?

  I snuck out of bed, gathered my clothes, heading out before he woke up.

  Guilt nagged at me. He obviously wanted me to stay, which seemed off to me. Weren’t a lot of men supposed to hate any sort of commitment? I immediately quashed that line of thought. I didn’t like to be stereotyped, and it wasn’t fair of me to pin him like that either. Jason didn’t seem the type to do something he didn’t want to do. But he was going to leave Jubilee Falls, and I could never ask him to stay.

  All the way home, I wondered if I was making a mistake in seeing Jason at all. His own feelings aside, there was a heartbreak waiting to happen. Even if by some miracle he wanted me to go with him to Omaha, teams didn’t have any player loyalty. He could be shipped off to another team in a couple of years. Then what? Was I supposed to follow him all over the country? What if things didn’t last? Which was probably likely. Relationships didn’t last anymore. Maybe they never did. I thought about my own parents. My father moved onto Sylvia only weeks after my mother’s death, on to a different family.

  Jason wouldn’t have trouble moving on to someone else. His life was about to take him to all kinds of places with all kinds of people that a woman from Jubilee Falls, Nebraska wouldn’t be able to hold a candle to.

  Suddenly, I didn’t feel so good. The hot shower at home didn’t help.

  Before I headed off to work, I sat down in front of my computer, pulling up a resume I’d constructed a while back. There had been a position open for a sports therapist at a clinic in Omaha I’d considered applying for, but I chickened out.

  I doubted there were any openings anywhere, or that I’d have the experience they were looking for, but I decided to post my resume up on a few websites. and Then I shut off my computer and didn’t think about it anymore.

  Work was unusually quiet. I did a couple of deep tissues massages and a rehabilitation appointment, and then I was left with nothing but time.

  My phone went off while I was at lunch.

  Jason: You left early.

  I put my phone face down. It vibrated again. I pulled my eReader up, trying to focus on my book.

  Buzz! Buzz!

  Damn it! I peeked at my phone screen.

  Jason: One of these mornings, I really want to wake you up with my tongue.

  I couldn’t help smiling. My body heated, thinking of him between my thighs.

  Jason: I feel like I owe you at least two breakfasts by now.

  Blaze: Jason, what are we doing?

  Jason: Texting?

  Blaze: Ha ha.

  Jason: Honestly?

  Blaze: I don’t want you to lie to me.

  Jason: I don’t want to lie to you, but you already run away. If I’m honest, you’re likely to ghost me.
/>   Blaze: I promise not to ghost you.

  Jason: I’m trusting you here.

  Blaze: What else do you need?

  Jason: Promise you’ll see me tonight? When you’re done with work?

  Blaze: You’re asking for a lot of promises, but I can manage your requests.

  Jason: I like you, Blaze. I like hanging out with you. Since that first night at Weather the Storm, I’ve wanted to get to know you. I know we should keep it to having fun, but I like you.

  Blaze: You’re leaving. Your career is minutes from the next step.

  Jason: We’re a few words away from the next step too.

  My heart was racing so fast, it stole my breath. What was he trying to say?

  Jason: You running?

  Blaze: What do you want out of whatever is happening between us?

  Jason: To keep things going the way they are. See where things go.

  Blaze: Meaning?

  Jason: You sleep over. Stay for pancakes. Let me in a little more.

  Blaze: Aren’t you afraid of me falling in love with you or something? And what if I hate pancakes?

  Jason: I’m afraid you’ll run away before we find out what’s going on between us.

  Blaze: You’re very surprising.

  Jason: Because I’m not the one running away? And who hates pancakes?

  Blaze: Yeah, actually. And besides, French toast is where it’s at.

  Jason: You don’t give yourself enough credit, Blaze. You’re amazing. And hot as fuck. Though, I am questioning your breakfast food choices.

  Blaze: What time do you want me to come over tonight?

  Jason: You want me.

  Blaze: You’re a pretty hot baseball player.

  Jason: Pretty hot?

  Blaze: Fucking hot?

  Jason: Why don’t I come to your place tonight? I’ll bring dinner.

  Blaze: Trying to make sure I’m there in the morning?

  Jason: Also plan on destroying your panties so you can’t wear them anymore.

  Blaze: My place is a mess.

  Jason: All right. Come over after work. Right after work. I have a shower if you need one. And you’re not going to need your clothes.

  My sex clenched and I pressed my thighs together, trying to subdue the ache. How did he do that so effortlessly?

  Blaze: You make dirty talk seem easy.

  Jason: You’ll get better at it.

  I walked up the stoop, feeling nervous and a little frumpy, showing up in my work clothes with my hair tied up in a bun. I stood in front of the door, not sure I could knock. I briefly wondered if I could get back in my car and drive away before he even knew I was there.

  Instead, the door opened. Jason leaned in the doorway and crossed his arms over his chest.

  “Were you thinking of running away already?”

  “I would love to deny such allegations, but I was considering it. But not for the reason you’re thinking.”

  Jason’s smirk widened into a smile, and I couldn’t help but smile back.

  “I’m betting it has something to do showing up here without having any prep time.”

  It took everything I had not to fidget with the hem of my shirt, then I just gave in and tugged at it a little, a habit I’d formed, always wanting to make sure my shirt covered my stomach.

  He took his time, his gaze lingering on every curve, stopping at my chest even though my cleavage was well covered until finally, he was looking me in the eye again.

  “Do you want to come in?”

  I tugged at my shirt again. “I haven’t decided yet.”

  “Come on, Blaze. You’re gorgeous. I bet you didn’t wear panties either.”

  I’d opted to take them off before I left since he requested it earlier.

  “Don’t smirk at me, jerk.”

  His smug smile turned into a full-blown grin, and I felt it everywhere. My entire body hummed, not just with desire and lust, but something else. Something I hadn’t felt since high school when feelings were rawer and more honest because they weren’t hindered by life experience.

  As much as I didn’t want to have feelings for Jason, as much as I didn’t want to get attached knowing we wouldn’t last, as much as I knew my heart would break in the end, I wanted to follow my heart right through the door, into his arms, just to feel how he made me feel.

  “Come on, Whitfield. I’ve got dinner.” He stepped aside, so there was enough room for me to pass by him into the house.

  I hesitated only a second longer before I gave in.

  Closing the door, he grabbed my wrist, pulled me around, pressed me up against the door, and kissed me hard. His hands slid down the sides of my hips, then around like he was frisking me. He pulled back, smirking all over again.

  “You’re not wearing panties.”

  My body was already wound up, and my mind was a jabbering mess of lust and desire. I cleared my throat, hoping my voice wouldn’t shake as much as my body was.

  “I can follow an order or two.”

  “Come on.” He grabbed my hand and escorted me toward the kitchen.

  I could smell garlic and spices, almost as mouthwatering as he was.

  “It’s sort of hot that you know how to cook this well.”

  “Sort of hot? I’m losing my game. Do I need to learn French pastry or something to push me over the edge? Or just French toast?”

  I shrugged. “Wouldn’t hurt.”

  He laughed, and I shivered. I loved making him laugh. He was such a cool customer and didn’t seem rattled by much. He was a workaholic when it came to his shoulder exercises and was confident of his athletic, sexual, and cooking abilities. I liked catching him off guard, even if it was just a laugh.

  Sitting at the bar, I watched him move around the kitchen.

  “You know, you’re making it really hard to concentrate.”

  I glanced down at myself. “I’m just sitting here.”

  “Yeah, but you’re not wearing underwear.”

  I blushed and crossed my ankles, squeezing my thighs together, trying to keep cool. Even with the air-conditioning blasting, I felt hot. It could’ve been all the food, but it had nothing on him.

  He looked up from his cutting board of vegetables.

  “You haven’t told me a lot about you.”

  “You know all the highlights,” I replied, shifting uncomfortably. I didn’t want to talk about myself.

  “What were you like in high school?”

  “Unpopular. Chubby. A geek even. Is it surprising?”

  Jason shook his head. “The view of yourself is surprising. You’re amazing. The work you do, the effort and care you put into every session. You and I are in a relationship outside of you working on my shoulder, and no one would ever know it. You’re unrattled by anything.”

  I chuckled.

  “What?”

  “I was just thinking the same thing about you.”

  “It’s an act, I assure you. I’m not cool about anything. In middle and into high school, I had a real temper, but I made myself chill out, eventually. Foster parents didn’t want kids in their house with violence issues, and I didn’t want to be a disappointment to anyone anymore. I funneled all my energy into school and baseball, but I was angry and doubting myself the whole time. Now, I just run instead of punching people.”

  “It doesn’t show at all.”

  “You haven’t seen me pissed off yet. I think you’re far more together than you give yourself credit for.”

  “I don’t allow myself to want anything. I got my career; I feel like that’s all I get.” I paused. Was that true? Is that really what I did?

  “Why? Why limit yourself like that?”

  My gaze dropped to the counter. “It’s easier than disappointment. It’s easier than people telling you that you’re not good enough for the things you want.”

  “Trust me, I’ve had my fair share of people’s opinions about what I deserve. You should tell them to shove it up their ass. You deserve the world, Blaze.”r />
  I couldn’t look at him. I could tell he was moving toward me, but I couldn’t make myself look at him.

  “Whose voice is in your head?”

  “Everyone’s, except Allison’s—she’s always been there for me, but I know the truth of it. I know what people see when they look at me.”

  “If that’s what you think is the truth, you’re letting the lies trump the truth. You’re beautiful and kind, and there is no one in this world I would trust more with my body. Considering how much stock I put on my body, you should consider that the highest of compliments.” He spun the barstool around, so I was facing him. Tucking his finger under my chin, he lifted my gaze to his. “Don’t doubt how wonderful you are, Blaze. You should hold your head high.”

  I wanted to believe what he was saying, but even the people who were supposed to love me unconditionally didn’t love me like that. They didn’t believe in me. They tolerated me. They tried to shove the ideals of what my life should look like down my throat, but they didn’t believe in me. No one had ever looked at me the way Jason was at that moment. The earnestness in his voice and his eyes was enough to want to believe.

  “Come on. Come stand by me.” Pulling me off the chair, he moved behind me and pushed me toward his side of the island where he was chopping things. I stood next to him, watching. “What was your mom like? Did you feel this with her too?”

  “My mom? No, Mom was amazing. She used to encourage me to follow my heart. And she always told me to never settle for less than what I wanted.”

  He kept his eyes on the knife and green pepper he was cutting. “Your mom was a smart woman.”

  “She was. I think she wanted to play baseball.”

  “Yeah?” Jason’s head swiveled to me, with a cocked brow. “Why do you think that?”

  “I’ve never said this out loud, so don’t make fun. But she used to teach me to pitch. Mostly for physical activity, or so she said, but also to think analytically. She played softball all her life. Even when I was a kid, she played on a team with her work. She was good. She was always a pitcher. She was where I found my love for baseball, sports, and certainly, athletes.”