Sometimes she'd needed both.
He sat and studied her. "You have dark circles under your eyes."
Then again, he wasn't always complimentary when she needed it the most. "Like I said--double shift yesterday. Those are the worst."
"But you love it."
As if she needed convincing. She laughed. "Yes. I love it. It's everything I imagined it would be."
He smiled and squeezed her hand. "You can handle it, Aubry. No matter what they throw at you, even when it's awful, you'll handle it."
She had always loved her father's confidence in her. "Yes, Dad. I can handle it. Where's Mom tonight?"
"It's her night with the ladies from the country club. They're going to one of the casinos."
"Uh-oh. Spending more of my inheritance, huh?" she asked with a wink.
"Yup. I guess you're just gonna have to go make your own way in life, kiddo."
She laid the back of her hand against her forehead. "Oh, woe is me."
He smiled and put his arm around her. "Come on. Let's grab a bite to eat before the game starts. You can tell me more horror stories about work."
The last thing she wanted to do was talk about work, so she engaged her father in discussions about the team, as well as Ross Enterprises. She'd been involved in the company since she was old enough to understand the rudimentary workings of what both her parents did for a living. And while she'd always found it fascinating--especially the sports angle--it had never dulled her love for medicine.
She could still appreciate her father's passion for the game, something he'd instilled in her at an early age. She'd mostly been teasing Tucker when she told him she preferred football, though that was a sport she enjoyed as well.
"The team looks solid this year," she said to her dad while they watched pregame warm-ups.
"They do. They barely missed the playoffs last year. I have high hopes for them this season."
"You've filled the team with talent, Dad. Hot bats and stellar pitching."
Her father smiled. "And here I thought you were too busy with your career to pay attention to the team."
"Oh, I pay attention. You've made some fine additions the past couple of years. I know exactly who plays for the team. I might not have time to come to every game, but I catch up on the scores and updates."
"I'm glad to hear that. Wait till you see Tucker Cassidy pitch tonight. He's a real phenom with a wicked curveball."
At the mention of Tucker's name, her stomach did a slight tumble. "Is that right?"
"Yeah. Best acquisition we've made in years."
"I can't wait to watch him." She would not tell her father how well she knew Tucker. There were some things a daughter didn't discuss with her dad.
Plus, knowing how her father felt about her dating--anyone--she didn't think he'd appreciate knowing she was seeing Tucker.
She couldn't even imagine that conversation. Not that she ever intended to have it with him. She'd always kept her father in the dark about her dating life. He preferred to think of her as studious and dedicated to her career.
She'd keep it that way for now. Someday, maybe when she got engaged, she'd mention there was a man in her life. Or maybe after she got married. Or possibly when she put a grandchild in her father's arms. Then there'd be no going back, and he might be distracted by a crying baby and wouldn't notice the guy standing next to her.
Her lips ticked up at the thought. Yeah, that was a long way down the road.
She focused on Tucker as he warmed up his arm, threw some pitches, slow at first, then with more speed as his velocity increased. He looked mighty fine in uniform, too. Even from up in the owner's box she could appreciate the tight fit of the pants across his thighs and butt, especially when he turned away from her.
There was something so striking about Tucker in uniform, the way he took command of the mound as if he owned it. He threw the ball with authority. He had a definite presence.
She was impressed.
Her dad was right. He looked good, at least during warm-ups. The true test would be when he faced batters.
When the game began, she leaned forward, glad she was here. Not only did she need to occupy her mind with something other than the anxiety and sadness from her job the night before; she was also interested in watching Tucker pitch.
Or maybe just watching Tucker, period. She was used to seeing him in street clothes, as just a regular guy. There, on the mound, he commanded attention, all focus on him as he studied the first batter who'd come to the plate.
Tucker held the ball, his hand behind his back as he got the signal from Sanchez, the catcher. He nodded, then turned to his side, winding up for the pitch.
His form was nearly perfect as he threw the ball, which landed in the sweet spot over the plate.
The umpire called a strike, and the crowd cheered.
She looked over at her dad. "Nice curveball."
Her father nodded. "Indeed. I've never seen anything quite like it."
He threw another pitch, very similar to the first. It hit the strike zone and the batter didn't even swing.
"He's got great hands," her father said. "Great control of his balls."
Aubry blinked and felt her face grow warm.
Of course her father was discussing Tucker's pitches. But come on. Great hands? Control of his balls? That had her mind careening off in directions that had nothing to do with Tucker's actions on the mound, and everything to do with what he could do with his hands and his balls in the bedroom.
You are not a giggling twelve-year-old girl, Aubry. Get your shit together.
Still, Tucker looked so freaking hot on that pitching mound, and she couldn't help the hot flashes. It was just embarrassing to have them around her father.
She liked Tucker's stance, and he was just so sexy, the way he studied the batters, his gaze so intense through his black glasses. She wasn't sure she'd ever seen him look so fine.
Of course, it could also be that she'd seen him naked, so she knew the perfection underneath that uniform. Not that she was fantasizing about him in any way at all. Except in every way possible.
Time to stop thinking of Tucker and sex and focus on baseball.
When he struck out the batter, she stood and clapped along with everyone else in the owner's box, effectively snapping her out of her fantasies and back into the game. Now she made herself zero in on his pitches.
The next ball was a strike--again. So impressive. It was the way he threw the ball that mesmerized her, the mechanics of it all, the way the ball seemed to arc so high, then unexpectedly drop just as it reached the plate.
Several of the batters swung and missed, or grounded out. He gave up a single in the second inning, but no runs. In the first three innings, no one on the opposing team scored.
Awesome.
Throughout the game, Tucker mixed up his pitches, of which he had several, but his curve was a beautiful thing. By the top of the eighth inning, the Rivers were up by one run. It had definitely been a pitcher's battle, which had made it fun to watch, but also nerve-wracking.
Aubry found herself leaning forward, breath held, every time Tucker threw a pitch, waiting for it to land in the right spot. And, fortunately, most of the time it did. When someone got a hit, they didn't advance beyond first base. He was good tonight, and so was the team defense. Offense needed to get on it so they could all breathe a little easier, which hadn't happened just yet.
Until Gavin Riley hit a shot into right field for a double, and then Trevor Scott doubled him home, giving them a one-run cushion going into the top of the ninth.
Tucker didn't pitch the ninth. They brought in their ace closer, who threw couldn't-hit-them fastballs. It was a fast, three-out inning, and the Rivers won the game.
Aubry stood and hugged her dad. "What a great game."
"I'm glad you came. You brought us luck."
She laughed. "Based on what I saw tonight, Dad, luck had nothing to do with it."
"Would you like t
o stop by the house?" her father asked.
"No, I really need to go home. But I'll come over on my next night off. Say hi to Mom for me."
"She'll be sorry she missed you."
She hugged and kissed her dad, then left. When she got to her car, she sent a text message to Tucker.
Great game. You pitched well. I enjoyed watching you. Call me later.
By the time she walked in her front door, her phone rang.
"I thought maybe you'd wait for me," Tucker said.
She laughed. "I don't think so."
"Don't want everyone on the team to know you and I are seeing each other?"
"Absolutely not."
"So, I'm your secret lover, huh?"
Her lips curved at that thought. "For now? Yes."
"I can live with that. Are you home?"
"Just got here. How about you?"
"Finished interviews, but I'm still at the ballpark."
She knew better than to do this, but she wanted the company. "You could come over, if you'd like. I know you're probably hungry. I could fix you something."
"You don't have to do that. Do you work tomorrow?"
"Yes."
"I don't want to keep you up late. I can grab something on the way over, that way you don't have to cook. Are you hungry?"
"No. The suite had plenty of food."
"Then I'll grab a quick burger, and I'll see you soon."
"Okay."
She hung up, went in the bathroom to brush her teeth and hair, then looked in the mirror. She still wore her jeans, blouse and boots and pondered changing clothes.
Changing into what, exactly? She pondered that thought for a few minutes, wondered why she was making such a big deal about it, then decided to change into a pair of comfortable lounge pants and a long-sleeved Henley.
Much better, and less restrictive. She realized she already had thoughts of Tucker's hands on her, and her body responded with a rush of heat.
Yes, she was definitely glad she'd invited him over. Maybe it was the tension from yesterday, but she needed that release that only he could provide. Sure, she could do it herself, but it would be much more fun to enjoy some fun sex with Tucker.
While she waited for him, she made a cup of tea, then picked up one of her medical books and did some research.
About twenty minutes later there was a knock on the door. She went to open it.
She looked him over. "I don't see a burger bag."
He smiled at her. "I ate it on the way over."
"You must have been hungry."
"I was."
He came in and she shut the door, watching as he made his way into her kitchen to lean against the island. He looked good in his jeans and long-sleeved cotton shirt. Of course, he always looked good.
"You obviously worked up an appetite with the way you pitched tonight."
He turned to face her. "Glad I was able to entertain you."
"I was definitely entertained. And my dad is impressed."
He slipped the tips of his fingers into the front pockets of his jeans. "Is that right?"
"Yes. He spoke very highly of you."
"That's good to know. And did you tell him about us?"
She laughed, walking over to stand in front of him. She grasped one of his belt loops and tugged on it. "Definitely not."
He pushed off the island and wrapped an arm around her, drawing her against him. "I'm okay with being your dirty little secret, Aubry."
She thought he was going to kiss her, his lips hovering just a fraction of an inch away from hers. Their gazes collided, his breath mixing with hers as her lips parted, anticipation making her pulse rate kick up.
"For now," he added, before his mouth came down on hers.
WATCHING TUCKER PLAY TONIGHT SHE'D WITNESSED mechanics and precision, every move perfection. But when he kissed her, it was messy and spontaneous, one hand sifting through her hair as the other found its way to her back, lifting her shirt to roam across her skin. She moaned against his lips and used her hands to map the muscles of his forearms and shoulders.
He moved into her, his cock hard and insistent as he deepened the kiss. A delicious headiness swirled within her, her skin prickling with awareness as he moved his lips from her mouth to her neck, laving her throat with his tongue. She couldn't help her deep moans as need held her in its grasp. She was caught up in a daze of hazy passion and grasped tight to Tucker, her legs shaking as he cupped her breast, pulling the fabric of her bra down to tease and pluck her nipples.
And when he drew down her pants, she helped him, stepping out of them, needing to be naked, wanting him to touch her, taste her, give her the orgasm she so desperately craved.
He slipped his hand down the front of her panties, and she whimpered.
He stepped in closer to her, wrapping his other arm around her to hold her steady.
"Shh," he said. "I know what you need."
His hand was warm as he cupped her sex, then slid lower, his fingers slipping inside her. The heel of his hand rubbed her clit as he moved his fingers within her.
It was so damn perfect. Tucker's touch hit those spots that sent strikes of shocking pleasure straight to her core.
His gaze met hers. "Like that?"
She arched her hips toward him. "Yes. Just like that."
He kissed her, and she melted against him, around him, unable to hold back as the sensations overtook her. All she felt was heat surrounding her, the feel of his mouth and tongue and the movements of his hand and fingers. She felt consumed and let herself fall.
Her orgasm shook her, and she grabbed Tucker's wrist, holding his hand right where she needed it as she was wracked by wave after wave of undulating tremors that left her weak and light-headed.
He took her down easy, slowing the intensity of his kiss, removing his fingers but still holding tight to her body.
She reached up to touch his face, running her fingers over the stubble of beard across his chin. She brushed her lips across his, taking a long, satisfied breath.
"That was good." She slid her hand over his chest. "I needed that."
"I could tell." He rested his forehead against hers. "But we're not finished yet. I'm just getting warmed up."
She patted his chest. "That's what I like about you, Tucker. You have stamina."
He grinned, then took her hand, pressed a kiss to the back of it, and led her into the bedroom.
She pulled off her shirt and took off her bra and underwear, then grabbed a condom from her nightstand. "I moved them closer. You know, so they're handy."
He smiled. "Good thought."
She sat on the bed to watch him undress.
"I like you like this," she said as he climbed on the bed next to her.
"Like what?"
She wrapped her fingers around his cock. "Naked and hard."
TUCKER WATCHED AS AUBRY SAT BACK ON HER HEELS and stroked his cock. Was there anything hotter than watching a woman touch your dick?
He didn't think so. His balls tightened and his breath caught as she bent forward and put her sweet mouth around the crest. All he saw was a flash of pink tongue wrapping around his cockhead, and he grabbed a handful of sheet, hoping he could hold out long enough to enjoy the hell out of this.
Her mouth was hot, wet, and as she suctioned a tight seal around him and slid his cock between her lips, his stomach tightened.
He raised up to sift his fingers through her hair. "God, that's good, babe."
It felt so goddamned good he wanted this to last forever. He also wanted to come, hard--to jettison hot spurts along her tongue until he was empty and satisfied.
And as she used one hand to stroke the base and her other to cup his balls and give them a gentle squeeze, he already knew which of his desires was going to win.
Because he'd thought about this a lot, imagined her hot and wicked mouth on his dick.
The reality was more than he had ever imagined.
He lifted his hips, feeding more of his cock
into her mouth.
"I'm ready to come, Aubry. I want to shoot into your mouth."
She hummed along the side of his cock, then squeezed her lips tighter together.
That's all it took. The first spurts spilled along her tongue as he erupted, his hips arching off the bed. Aubry held tight to the base of his cock as he gave her all he had, jerking in rhythmic spasms until he was spent.
She licked him fully, then laid her head on his thigh while he came down from that incredible high. It took him a minute or two and several deep breaths before he could even find the strength to run his hand over her hair.
"That," he said, "was damn good."
"Glad you thought so." She lifted her head and looked up at him. "But we're still not done."
He finally looked down at her. "You're a tough taskmaster. I'm going to need a few minutes of recovery time."
She laughed. "I'll get us something to drink. What would you like?"
"A beer sounds good."
She slid off the bed. "I'll be right back."
He admired her fantastic ass and the soft sway of her hips as she disappeared from the bedroom. While she was gone, he mentally replayed that phenomenal blow job in his head.
And his dick started to harden.
He looked down at it and shook his head. "So much for recovery time."
"Who are you talking to?" she asked as she came back in, handing him his beer. She'd poured a glass of wine for herself.
"My cock."
She arched a brow and climbed onto the bed, crossing her legs as she faced him. "Is this something you do often?"
"Not really."
She took a sip of wine. "Can I ask the topic of conversation?"
"The blow job you gave me. I was mentally replaying it in my head, and I started to get hard. Then I chastised my cock for having a one-track mind."
She laughed. "I hardly think it's the fault of your penis that you enjoyed what I did. But, thanks for the compliment." She raised her glass toward him.
"No, really. Thank you." He tipped his beer toward her in a toast, and they both drank.
He took several long, deep swallows of beer, then set the bottle on the nightstand. He took the wineglass from her hand and put it next to his beer, then pulled her on top of him, sliding his hands along the smooth skin of her back. When he moved his hands to her lower back and pressed in, she moaned.