“Then it’s time I gave you what you need,” Rusty said in a deep, sensual voice. He leaned in and kissed me deeply, cupping my face. Almost instantly I was as wet as I had been last night. Like we’d picked up right where we left off.

  Rusty broke off the kiss and moved the coffee table out of the way with his foot in one hard shove. I didn’t know what he had in mind, but I couldn’t wait to find out.

  He reached under me and scooped me up into his arms. I thought he was going to carry me to the bedroom, but apparently he had other ideas.

  Rusty laid me down on the carpet and unbuttoned my shirt. I drew in a breath of exhilaration. He was more forceful than he’d been last night. I got the impression he wanted to prove his manhood. That was more than okay by me.

  He kissed me as he massaged my breasts, which were covered by my black lace bra. I owned exactly two sets of fancy underwear, and now Rusty had seen them both.

  “I want to see you,” I said, tugging at his shirt until he pulled it off for me.

  I couldn’t get over how ripped he was. He might be a former athlete, but he still had the body of a pro baseball player. Even if he hadn’t, I would still have been hot for him. Rusty was much more to me than a pretty face and a rocking body.

  In no time, we were both naked. The shades of his living room window were open, but I wasn’t worried because we were hidden from view by the couch.

  That, and I was so turned on that I doubted I would have cared if the entire city of Baltimore were watching us have sex. After Rusty’s stellar performance last night, I could hardly wait for the encore. I hoped this time it would end with the grand finale I’d been aching for.

  Rusty plunged into me and I cried out in ecstasy, grabbing his shoulders. I closed my eyes, losing myself in the sheer bliss of his large cock pounding the hell out of me.

  “Now who’s breathing heavy,” Rusty murmured in my ear, sending a fresh ripple of bliss between my legs. He knew how much I wanted him, needed him, and somehow that made this delicious experience even hotter.

  “Yes,” I panted as he drove in and out of me, faster and faster.

  When he slipped his fingers between my legs and massaged my clit, I completely lost my mind.

  Crying out again, I gripped his shoulders even harder, willing him not to stop. I opened my eyes to see Rusty’s gorgeous, piercing blue eyes intense with concentration. It was like his mission in life was to make me come as hard as possible.

  And that’s when the sexiest thought on the planet flashed in my mind.

  Rusty Power is fucking me on the living room floor.

  With that, all my wildest fantasies came to life as my body rocketed to the most intense climax I’d ever had.

  “Rusty,” I cried out as I came, my body quivering and shuddering with delicious release.

  He groaned deeply as he found his own release, emptying himself inside me.

  I lay there for a moment, unable to move and not wanting to.

  “That …was … amazing,” I said.

  Rusty grinned, a cocky expression on his face. He was proud of himself. As well he should be. I was thrilled, as it was a far cry from how things had ended last night. The last thing I’d wanted was to make him feel weak, like he was less of a man due to his illness. I had planned to show my enthusiasm the next time we made love in order to build up his ego.

  Turned out it didn’t take any extra effort on my part. Rusty had truly been amazing, and he had fully, deeply satisfied me. My screams of ecstasy had been involuntary and one hundred percent real.

  Rusty rolled off and then reached underneath me with his arm and pulled me to his chest. I snuggled up against him happily.

  “Wow,” I said with a deep, satisfied sigh.

  “And I didn’t even die.”

  I laughed. “Nope.”

  “But if I had, I’d have died happy.”

  Giggling, I snuggled up closer. I gently traced his naked chest with my finger and then I planted a kiss right over his heart. To me, that simple kiss felt like a promise. My pledge to Rusty’s heart that I would always take care of it, physically and emotionally. I’d once helped start it went it gave out, and I felt it was my duty to look after it.

  Forever.

  I shivered slightly, and Rusty noticed.

  “I better let you get dressed, beautiful.”

  I shivered again, but for a different reason this time. No one had ever called me beautiful before Rusty. And no one had ever made me feel beautiful the way he did. I’d always been the type to fade into the background, but he had a way of making me feel valued. Important. Like I was more than just the solid, reliable friend that everyone knew they could count on.

  Rusty sat up and put his hands behind his head, watching me get dressed. I could feel his eyes on me, admiring me. Again, not something I was used to. He never looked at me like I was a scrawny, skinny girl. He eyed me up and down like I was a supermodel. I couldn’t help comparing myself to Emily Martindale, but I never felt like Rusty was comparing me at all. Somehow, he seemed like he was just into me.

  Once we were dressed, we settled on the couch again, incredibly relaxed and happy, still reveling in sexual release. Just sitting on the couch with Rusty was fun. Everything was more fun with him.

  He clicked on the TV, once again using the guide instead of randomly changing channels. He settled on a sitcom rerun and then turned to me.

  “So, whaddya wanna do today?”

  “Hmm, good question.”

  “You know,” he said, “you can always stay overnight again tonight if you want.”

  My body tensed up.

  “Oh, um … well, I would love to. Really. It’s just … I kinda have plans later tonight.”

  “You do?” he said with raised eyebrows.

  “Yeah,” I said quietly.

  “Oh.”

  Rusty gazed at me, waiting for me to elaborate. I really did not want to tell him where I was going, but he was gonna think I had a date with another guy if I didn’t give him any details.

  Sighing heavily, I said, “It’s just … Rusty, I have tickets to the Bay Birds game tonight.”

  “Oh, I see,” he said, his expression a mixture of relief and sorrow.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to say anything because—”

  “I understand, Amanda. You didn’t want to upset me. Sometimes I forget what a big Bay Birds fan you are. I mean, you have season tickets. Of course you’re gonna go to a lot of games.”

  Rusty smiled, but it was forced. He was hurting, and I hated it.

  “I don’t have to go if—”

  “Yes,” he said firmly. “Yes, you do. I wouldn’t dream of keeping you from going to the game. You’re allowed to have a life outside of me, you know.”

  I nodded, grateful that he understood.

  “You going with a group of friends?”

  “Yeah. I already had a two-ticket season plan, but the Bay Birds gave me a bunch more after I saved your life. That, and my seats got way upgraded.”

  That made him laugh, and I was happy to hear that sound.

  “Niiiice,” he said, fist bumping me enthusiastically. “That was cool of them.”

  “It really was.”

  “Gimme your feet.”

  “What?” I asked.

  Slapping his thighs, he said, “Put ’em here.”

  I did as he asked, and he started rubbing my feet.

  “Oh damn, that feels really good.”

  “Breakfast and foot rubs. That’s my skill set.”

  “Works for me,” I said.

  “So, did you want to do something today before the game or did you just want to head home?”

  “We can hang out, sure. Game’s not until 7:05.”

  “Cool,” he said with a grin as he massaged my feet.

  “What do you want to do?”

  Rusty thought for a moment. “Whaddya say we visit the Maryland Science Center and play with all the kiddie science exhibits?”

  “Are you serious?”

  “As a heart attack,” he said and then wrinkled his nose. “Sorry. Too soon for that joke?”

  I laughed and shook my head.

  “So, Science Center,” he said. “Dumb idea?”

  “Not at all. I kind of love it.” Doing such a thing was totally unlike me, but that was what I liked about the idea.

  “Let’s do it!” Rusty said with a boyish grin.

  17

  AMANDA

  “I haven’t been here since I was a kid,” I said with a smile as Rusty paid our admission to the Maryland Science Center.

  I watched lots of little kids running around excitedly, many of them making a beeline toward the dinosaur exhibit, which had a huge T. rex model on display.

  “Really?” Rusty said as he wrapped the paper wristband on me that proved we had paid to get in. “I come here all the time.”

  “You do?” I asked, eyes wide.

  Chuckling, he said, “Nah. I’ve been here exactly once. With my sisters and their kids. They were in town to see me play with the Bay Birds and we did some sightseeing.”

  “That sounds fun.”

  “Yeah, it was,” Rusty said, his blue eyes sparkling with happiness. He obviously enjoyed being an uncle. “Let’s go see the dinosaurs!”

  He grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the exhibit. I laughed heartily, enjoying his enthusiasm. We amused ourselves by stepping into giant dinosaur tracks to see how small our feet were and reading up on various dino facts.

  Next up, we checked out a biology exhibit where we learned all kinds of gross things about germs.

  “Stand here,” Rusty said, gesturing toward an exhibit entitled How Far Do Germs Travel?

  Before I knew it, I heard coughing and a wet puff of air hit in me in the face. This science experiment was to show how far and fast a sneeze could expel germs.

  Cackling, Rusty clapped his hands.

  “You jerk,” I said, laughing and punching him in the arm.

  “Yeah, I found out about that one the hard way last time I was here,” he said with a grin.

  Rusty and I checked out the bed of nails experiment next.

  “They had this here when I was a kid,” I exclaimed. “I totally remember laying on it when we were here on a class field trip.”

  “Lay down,” Rusty said.

  I stretched out on the flat surface and he pressed the button to raise up the nails to lift me up.

  “Always feels so weird,” I said.

  He nodded and seized the opportunity to kiss me while I was lying down.

  A kid walking by saw us and muttered, “Ew. Gross.”

  I laughed with Rusty’s lips still on mine. When he lifted his head, he glanced over at the kid and chuckled.

  “Check out his shirt.”

  Sure enough, the kid of about six years of age sported a Bay Birds shirt.

  “That is hilarious,” I said, happy to see that Rusty still had a sense of humor when it came to the Bay Birds.

  We finished up our little field trip with a visit to the planetarium, which I found particularly romantic. It was as if Rusty and I were sitting under the stars together. This was the best date I’d ever been on, and it wasn’t even over yet.

  We left the Science Center and went out into the hot and humid air to head over to the Hard Rock Cafe nearby. I held Rusty’s hand and gazed out at the Chesapeake Bay as we walked the same route we had on our first date. I marveled at how quickly and pleasantly our relationship had progressed since then.

  “Do you usually do crazy stuff like visit a children’s museum for fun?” I asked.

  “No. Never. I just knew you would be cool and up for something goofy like this,” Rusty said with a smile.

  “This was the most fun I’ve had in a long time,” I said, squeezing his hand.

  Sighing happily, I thought about how easy it was to imagine spending the rest of my life with Rusty already. I could see us as an old couple, married for, like, forty years and still having fun and doing goofy things together.

  Over juicy burgers at the Hard Rock Cafe, I broached the subject of Rusty’s future.

  “So, have you thought any more about what you might want to do now?”

  “You mean, after this? I thought you had a game to go to.”

  “No, I didn’t mean immediately after this. I meant, you know, in general. Like, have you come up with any ideas for what you might want to do for a living?”

  “Oh,” he said, looking depressed as he bit into his cheeseburger. He swallowed and wiped his mouth with a napkin. “Not really. Definitely having a hard time with that.”

  Gazing at him from across the table, I said, “I know there will never be anything that you love as much as baseball.”

  Rusty nodded, and the warmth in his eyes was so lovely.

  “It means a lot to me that you understand that.”

  “Can I ask you a personal question, Rusty?”

  He laughed. “Baby, we had sex on the floor this morning, and you’re asking if you can get personal?”

  I laughed too, but I still waited for him to answer the question.

  “Beautiful, you can ask me anything you want.”

  As always, a shiver of delight rippled through me when he called me beautiful.

  “How much money do you have?” I asked bluntly.

  Rusty chuckled. “A fair question.”

  “I mean, do you have enough money that you can take a year or so finding your way and figuring out what you want to do? Or do you have enough money that you could pretty much go into any business that interests you?”

  He thought for a moment and then said, “That second one, I guess.”

  “Well, that’s good, right?”

  “I know I should be grateful,” he said in a low, sad voice.

  “I’m not saying you’re not grateful, Rusty.” I reached across the table to squeeze his hand.

  “I have a lot of money. Like, you know, tons. But I would give it all up if it meant I could still play baseball.”

  “I know you would.” I gave his hand another squeeze and let go so he could eat his lunch. “But even if you can’t play anymore, there must be stuff that’s baseball-related you can do. You could be a TV or radio sports announcer, or a journalist. You could even be a coach or a trainer as long as the job doesn’t get too physical.”

  He sighed deeply. “Yeah, I know. I’ve thought about all that. Believe me, I have. And I’ve always known that there would be life after baseball and I would have to figure out what to do with the rest of my life. But I always thought that would happen after I got to play for years. I’d play ball and retire at the ripe old age of forty, and then I’d have to find something to occupy my time. I just never dreamed I’d be washed up in my twenties.”

  I nodded sympathetically as I listened.

  Eyes narrowing, he said sharply, “That’s what I am, you know? Washed up. I fuckin’ hate that term, but that’s what I am.”

  I flinched. Rusty was good at keeping his anger in check, but it was always there, waiting to burst out at any moment. It occurred to me that speaking to a therapist might help him, but I knew better than to bring it up right now.

  He drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly, as if willing himself to calm down.

  “The idea of doing something baseball-related … It just hurts too much. I can’t do it. I could never be a sportscaster and go to all those games, day after day, watching guys play ball. It would …” He swallowed hard. “Amanda, it would kill me.”

  The catch in Rusty’s voice tore my heart to pieces.

  “I understand,” I said, fighting back tears. I wanted to help him figure out an alternative as fast as humanly possible. Give him something, anything, to focus on besides his pain.

  “You could start any kind of company you want. After all, you have that business degree to fall back on.”

  Eying me curiously, he asked, “How did you know I have a business degree?”

  “I told you, I read every article there was on Rusty Power. You got a bachelor’s degree from West Virginia State University.”

  Rusty grinned at me. “Very good.”

  “You must be at least somewhat interested in business if you got a degree in it.”

  He shrugged. “Eh, kinda. Learned some interesting stuff. It was mostly because it seemed like a good idea as a backup plan.”

  “But you hoped you would never have to use it.”

  “Exactly,” he said before stuffing a french fry in his mouth.

  “I’m trying to think of businesses for you; things you know about and would be good at, but all I can think of is sports stuff. Like you could open a sports memorabilia store. Or maybe even open a gym!”

  “I guess I could. I don’t know. Sports memorabilia would just be more baseball stuff. And for the gym idea, I think it would make me feel bad too. I can’t work out like I used to, so …”

  I nodded sadly.

  “Hey,” Rusty said gently. “I don’t mean to shoot down all your ideas.”

  “I know you don’t.”

  As much as I wanted to help him, a tiny part of me wished we could talk about me for once. I felt bad for even thinking it, but it would be nice to vent about my own job. Though I was sure Rusty would listen and support me, I didn’t feel right about burdening him. He was dealing with enough.

  “You like cars, right?” I asked.

  “Yeah. I do.”

  “What about opening a car dealership?”

  “Huh,” Rusty said, considering the idea. A glimmer of hope blossomed inside me, and hopefully in him as well. I knew he would be so much happier if he had a goal in life, something to pursue. He was not the type who could sit around doing nothing without going crazy.

  “Think about it. You could start by opening one dealership, and if things go well, before you know it, you could have a whole bunch of stores.”

  “That’s true. I could do that,” he said, seeming to really warm to the idea. “I’ve always liked cars. Reading about them, going to car shows, even tinkering with some repairs.”

  “And isn’t your dad an automotive technician?”

 

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24