Noah grabbed Josh’s arm and tugged him along, grumbling a remark in the process.
Katie sat there, her emotions twisting and turning, before she took the file and headed to the den where Luke had been watching replays of preseason baseball games for hours.
She found him on the leather sofa—the sofa they’d made love on—his back to the door. Memories washed over her, of them together, of the passion. And she knew she wasn’t going to deny she wanted Luke. Wasn’t going to let herself run or hide as he’d once accused her.
He turned around. “Hey,” he said, and quickly switched off the television. “Everything okay?”
“Yes,” she said softly. “I need…” Him. But she didn’t say that. Not yet. Business first. She sauntered toward him, aware of his hot stare following her. She joined him on the sofa, a few inches separating them.
“You need…?” he prodded gently, more of the crackling sexual tension from the kitchen flaring between them.
“I need you to tell me about your years in the pros. Maybe it will trigger some bit of information I can use for the investigation.”
He nodded slowly. “I’ll tell you anything you want to know, Katie,” he said. “As long as you promise to tell me anything I want to know.”
Her chest tightened at the ultimatum. Anything was right up there with everything, and she wasn’t sure she still had that to give to anyone, not even Luke.
When she didn’t immediately respond, he leaned forward, still not touching her though his lips lingered by her ear, his breath warm. “Why did you really come in here?” he whispered. “What is it you really need?”
Her pulse sped up as she whispered, “You.”
“Do you now?” he challenged.
“Yes,” she said, reaching for him. He shackled her hands.
“Oh, no,” he murmured. “You touch when I tell you to touch. Get undressed while I lock the door.”
Shaking with that need she’d confessed, Katie did as Luke ordered, amazingly aroused by the added intimacy and vulnerability of her confession.
He returned and scooted the coffee table out of the way before sitting down. “Come here,” he told her, his gaze raking over her naked body with such intimacy she could feel the dampness gathering between her thighs, the heat pooling low in her stomach. He pulled her between his thighs and kissed her stomach. She reached for his hair, and he set her hands away. “No touching.”
“Luke,” she whimpered.
“Here’s how this is going to work,” he said. “I’m going to show you just how much you need me. To be sure you never forget.”
And he proceeded to do so, oh, so well. Katie sighed as his mouth closed over her clit, suckling and licking and taking her to the edge for the first of many times that night. She had no idea where this was going with Luke, but hours later, after he’d driven her to the edge, punished her with blissful pleasure, she wasn’t willing to deny it still wasn’t enough. She needed more.
10
THE STALKER WAS silent for three days after Katie and Luke came out of the proverbial relationship closet, ten days total. Luke’s house was well secured, the top suspects were being investigated and monitored, and everything was otherwise calm. A good thing, since Luke was pitching the first at-home, season game that night. The best case, the stalker had lost interest in Luke. The worst case, well, Katie didn’t want to think about the many possibilities.
It was early morning yet, and since Katie still couldn’t run, Luke and Katie had started the day with a swim as they had the two days before. They’d then tossed shorts over their suits to begin making breakfast, another little ritual they’d formed. As if they were a couple. And maybe they were.
Katie had mixed feelings. She wanted this case over; she wanted Luke safe. But what happened when he was traveling and she went home? Was their relationship simply a bridge through troubled times for each other or were they more than that? A temporary need that fulfilled something they both craved on some personal level?
Rick, Noah and Josh were all gathered at the table, chowing down on eggs, sausage and pancakes. They apparently felt this was their ritual, as well, taking advantage of Luke’s willingness to cook.
Katie looked forward to watching him pitch, never mind cooking, though there was no denying there was a subtle tension mingled with hope in the house as everyone speculated about the stalker’s silence.
Grabbing the coffeepot, Luke filled a couple of mugs meant for himself and Katie. Josh managed to cross the kitchen with lightning speed and claim one of them.
“Thanks, man,” he said. “I needed this.” He sauntered back to the table and cast Rick a look. “Me and Noah were up all night monitoring Rick’s psycho girlfriend, among others.”
Rick grimaced and took the coffee cup from Josh. “Libby is not my girlfriend,” he said. “I broke up with her.”
Noah let out a bark of laughter. “Until he decides he needs another easy booty call.”
Josh snorted. “Yeah.”
Luke and Katie exchanged an amused look. “Hey!” Katie exclaimed indignantly, to no avail. Both she and Luke had lost their mugs.
Noah acted unaffected, sipped from the mug and continued to talk. “At least Libby doesn’t seem to be writing the letters or even secretly mutilating animals. So far she’s stuck with terrorizing barbecues and—after following her yesterday, from what I can tell—shoe stores. She spent three hours in one yesterday. I was in hell and so were the salespeople.”
Katie held up her hands in protest. “Please. Keep the booty-call talk to yourself. And you know how I feel about Libby. Keep watching her. She’s our person. I feel it in my gut.”
“All I feel in my gut,” Josh said, forking a pancake, “is the need for more food.” He dropped the pancake onto his plate. “That and I have a bad feeling about Jessica that no one else seems to get.”
Noah finished his coffee. “She’s too young and too naive to be conniving enough to pull off all these letters and not make a mistake that gets her caught.”
Katie chimed in her agreement with Noah. “I’m sticking with Libby.” She eyed Rick. “Good thing you’re not.”
“Man, Katie,” Rick said. “Ever since I made you mad at the benefit, you’ve been on my ass.”
Katie studied him seriously as she accepted a cup of coffee from Luke. “And that covers the entire time I’ve known you. You ballplayers are all about superstitions. If I start being nice now, it might be unlucky. I better keep busting your chops every chance I get.”
LUKE CHUCKLED at the exchange. Having Katie here felt…well, right. Like she belonged. Like she’d been here a lot longer than she had. He set his cup on the counter and pulled her close. “Speaking of superstitions,” he said. “You do realize if I pitch well tonight, the game-day breakfast becomes a lucky tradition, to be repeated?”
Katie rolled her eyes. “I swear you ballplayers are all a little obsessive-compulsive.”
“Let them be OCD or whatever they need to be to win,” Josh said. The doorbell rang. Josh pushed his chair back and looked disgusted. “Ah, no. Someone else heard about breakfast and thinks they are getting pancakes. Forget it. There aren’t enough to go around.”
Noah pushed to his feet, cup in hand. “I’ll get the door. I need a refill anyway.”
Luke rubbed his hands together as he finished the last of the cooking. “Finally,” he said. “I think we’re ready to sit down and eat.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” Katie said. “I’m starving.”
Noah reappeared with Ron by his side. “You might want to wait on that food.”
“Another letter,” Ron said, holding up a plastic, sealed bag.
“I’ll get it to the lab,” Noah offered. “And hope for more than the generalizations they gave me last week. Maybe we’ll get a fingerprint this time.”
Luke leaned against the counter, the air knocked right out of him. He glanced around the kitchen. “So much for a good-luck tradition. You know what? You guys do your
thing. Eat. Investigate. Whatever. I can’t think about this on game day.” Which would be easier without a couple of tech guys sharing breakfast with him, reminding him he was under lock and key. “I’m going to take a shower.” No one objected or tried to stop him, and he was damn glad.
He disappeared into his room, shut the door and headed to the shower. Stripping off his swim trunks and T-shirt, he stepped under the hot water. Damn it. “Why today?” he whispered.
“Because today is game day.” It was Katie’s voice, soft and close, right outside the curtain. It moved and suddenly she was inside, naked, beautiful, the distraction he needed. “Don’t you see?” she asked, stepping right up to him and twining her arms around him. “Whoever sent that letter knew you were pitching today. They knew it couldn’t be ignored. Not if your safety was going to be considered. This person wanted to be sure you got it today. They wanted to rattle you. So don’t give them that satisfaction. Go pitch your best game ever.” She kissed his chest, then kissed his lips. “And I was thinking of a new game-day tradition.”
She was soft and perfect in his arms, and he was hard and hot for her. He was crazy about her. Hell. He was pretty sure he was in love with her. “What new tradition?”
She smiled, her palm caressing his chest as she slowly slid down his body and went to her knees. His breath hitched as her hand closed around his erection. His muscles corded, tensed, as her tongue flickered around the head of his cock, her gentle fingers caressing his balls and closing around them. Suddenly, there were no letters, there was no pressure to deal with, aside from that pulsing through his balls.
She drew him into her mouth, suckled the sensitive head of his erection, her tongue swirling, licking, teasing. “Katie,” he whispered, his hand trying to guide her to take all of him.
But the witch took her time, took him slowly. Her hand tightened around the width of him at the base of his cock, and she slid her lips down him until her mouth met her fingers. And then she stopped moving, lavished him with her tongue. And then she began a tantalizing rhythm, a slow slide backward, a slow slide forward, until his hips were thrusting against her. Pleasure ripping through him, release building inside him. Building. Building. Explosive. A tight sensation traveled down his spine and settled at the base of his cock. On edge, close to release, he struggled with self-restraint. “Katie,” he gasped, “stop. Before I can’t stop.”
She suckled him deeper, pumped him with her hand. He cried out, tried to stop her, tried, but felt the wildness in him. The need. Warm water sprayed around his back, white-hot desire through his limbs. She sucked him deeper, used her lips, her tongue, her hand. Luke was beyond thinking, beyond control. Katie had all of him. His release thundered from inside him, an explosion so fierce it shook him, so complete he lost all sense of self. There was only the pleasure. And the gentle swirls of her tongue as she drew him to completion.
When finally she slid up his body and pressed those soft curves to him, Luke decided there was no pregame tradition better than one that included Katie naked in his arms. Nor any better way to spend the day than making love to her. And that was exactly what he intended to do.
KATIE SAT in the stands with Josh, Noah and Heather surrounding her as the first game of the season neared the end, most certainly a victory for the Hawks after Luke pitched five no-run innings.
“I can’t believe I thought baseball was boring,” Katie said, talking to Heather, who sat to her right. “Watching Luke square off with those batters had my heart beating a mile a minute.”
“There certainly wasn’t a more perfect game for your brothers to attend,” Heather said, smiling as she glanced to Katie’s left where Noah and Josh sat. “I’d say the coaching and pitching have been exceptional.”
Katie smiled, having decided Heather was very much in love with her husband. “Indeed,” Katie agreed. “And they’re here the rest of the week, so they’ll get to see him pitch once more in the rotation.”
“Oh, how wonderful,” Heather said. “And you’re even learning the game now. I’m impressed. We’ll turn you into an expert before you know it.” She winked. “We’ll have them thinking you’re a regular groupie in no time.”
Katie choked on that one. “Oh, please, no.”
Heather laughed. She explained how she hated the groupie scene; her husband liked them even less, as he felt the women were a negative distraction to his team.
Josh patted his stomach and leaned toward Katie. “Nachos didn’t do the job. Going to grab a candy bar before the concession stand closes.” Code for going to get a broader view of the stadium as the game draws to conclusion. Bringing them along had been a precaution after the letter. They were all frustrated that they’d made no progress so far besides securing the house and analyzing certain people of interest.
A few minutes later, Katie stood outside the locker room with Noah by her side, Josh still MIA. “Someone is driving to different post office locations and mailing these letters,” Katie said, her voice low. “We need to catch them in the act. Prove they were at the exact post office as one of the letters received. It has to be Jessica, Libby or Malone. We need them under surveillance.”
“We can GPS their cars,” Josh suggested. “It’s the simplest solution. I’d also suggest we hang back here when you head to Texas. We’ll stay at a hotel and covertly monitor Luke’s house and our suspect list. Whoever is behind this might make careless mistakes when they think no one is around to watch.”
“Agreed,” Katie said, her cell ringing from inside her purse. She’d have to talk to Ron, but he’d agree, she was certain.
Katie reached for her bag and dug out her cell. “And call that FBI pal of yours and find out what is taking so long on that analysis.” She quickly eyed the phone’s screen, noting the “unknown” caller ID, and then eyed Noah.
“Another call?” he asked.
Almost daily, she’d been receiving the heavy breathing calls, a poisonous reminder that all was not well at home, either, despite Donna’s assurances that she had things under control and was watching over Katie’s sister and the office.
Katie nodded confirmation, her stomach knotted. “Could the timing stink any worse?”
Noah held out his hand. “Give me the phone,” he demanded.
“No,” she refused. “I don’t want to risk making this worse by refusing their calls. You know that’s why I haven’t changed my number.”
Suddenly, Malone was out of the locker room and the press swarmed him. Katie hesitated and shoved her phone back into her purse. The questions were coming hard and fast. “What did you think about tonight’s game?”
“When will we see you pitch?”
“How’s it feel to be mentored by Luke Winter?”
“Mentoring me?” Malone asked. “I’m mentoring him.”
Laughter erupted, the reporters assuming Malone was joking. He wasn’t.
The doors to the locker room opened.
“Luke! Luke!” The reporters were going nuts, and they all turned toward him to pepper him with questions.
It took a good five tension-filled minutes for Luke to peel himself away from the reporters and appear by Katie’s side, freshly showered and grinning like a kid in a candy store.
Katie felt the tension inside her slide away at his happiness. He’d been so nervous about today, though he’d admitted it to no one but her.
“You found that zone of yours,” she said. “Congratulations.”
He pulled her close and kissed her, then spoke softly. “I’ve decided making love to you before I pitch is lucky. Actually, I think making love to you before and after is lucky. Let’s get out of here.” He drew her hand in his and tugged her toward the truck.
Katie’s mind and body screamed “yes” to the idea of finding her way into Luke’s strong arms, him buried inside her, leaving no room for anything but pleasure.
Deep down, she knew she needed tonight, too. Everything was on the verge of spinning out of control, and she had a horrible knot in h
er stomach, warning her that a crash was on its way.
11
THE TEXAS SERIES WAS behind them without any incidents. The Hawks’ record to date: four wins out of six games. Noah and Josh were convinced the letter writer was someone from the team who couldn’t mail a letter from Texas without being obvious. They’d test that theory soon enough with a three-day home series starting again after two days off.
“Watch how he cuts under the fastball,” Luke’s father, J.C., said to the television, his voice penetrating the kitchen door where Katie sat with Luke’s mother, Ann. J.C. continued, “See! Every time! You throw him some heat, boy.”
“They can spend hours critiquing the players,” Ann warned, her green eyes twinkling, her silvery-gray hair brushing her shoulders. “My husband retired from coaching three years ago, here in Austin, when I left teaching. Sometimes, I think he didn’t get the memo. I hope you’re not in a rush to leave.” The timer on the oven went off.
“You’re making chocolate macaroons,” Katie said. “I’m not going anywhere.” She liked Ann and J.C., and she could see why Luke had insisted on keeping the stalker a secret. They were so happily retired. And so very proud as parents. “My mother used to make macaroons.”
Ann pulled the tray from the oven and set it out to cool. “Used to?” Ann asked.
“I lost my parents in a car accident a few years ago,” Katie explained, pushing to her feet. “Let me help you with the chocolate.”
“Oh, dear,” Ann exclaimed, shoving the oven closed. “Honey, I’m sorry. I would never have made these if I’d known your mother made them.”
“Oh, Ann,” she said. “My mother made macaroons to make me smile. She’d expect nothing less today.”
A warm look crossed Ann’s face before she inclined her head. “Then let’s get that chocolate on top so we can get to eating.”