“Okay.” He stepped back and pulled her to her feet so quickly she stumbled. But he was there, strong and sure, holding her to him. He smelled fabulous for someone who’d just woken up. Maybe they were a good pheromone match, but to Emmy he smelled like fresh pepper and cotton, and it was a glorious combination. He made her head swim with desire, and her usually too-busy brain was, for once, quiet and focused.
Tucker explored her body, running his hands over her T-shirt until he found the hem, then the first shock of real skin-to-skin contact sent Emmy reeling. His big hands were warm, and though his fingertips were rough and calloused from years of pitching, his touch was light and sensitive. Everywhere his fingers traveled a spark of electricity followed, igniting a desire within in her that had long lain dormant. When he lifted her shirt, she didn’t protest, although she’d never been disrobed in a kitchen before.
When her top was off, she didn’t feel any of the painful awareness of her body she had with other lovers. She’d often felt like she was being assessed and catalogued by other men. Great body, decent boobs. Or, short legs, too much ass.
With Tucker it was different. The way he gazed at her with her top off was so worshipful and adoring she didn’t think he was comparing her to anyone else. He was seeing her for who she was.
In that moment, any thoughts of might disappeared, and Emmy knew she loved him. She’d known, really, since the trip to Chicago. But seeing him look at her in the harsh morning light—with no makeup and terrible hair—and still be impressed…well, he must be crazy about her.
He touched her again, tentative at first, then greedy, exploring her exposed skin with his palms fanned wide. He tucked his fingertips into the waistband of her jeans, grazing the top of her ass and making her shudder with unrestrained excitement. With each new area he traversed, Emmy’s brain became cloudier, wondering how she’d resisted him for so long and how stupid she’d been to live without this in her life.
Withdrawing, he shifted his attention to her breasts, cupping each mound with a hand so large even her C cups looked small being held by them. He rubbed her peaked nipples through the sheer lace fabric of her bra, sending another shock wave directly to her core. No one had ever managed to get her so wet, so quickly, with most of her clothes still on. It was as if Tucker’s every ministration was attuned to her, and he knew the wants of her body better than she did.
The work they did together on the field had proven she understood the mechanics of his body, and she’d used that knowledge to make him a better pitcher. What could he do to her once he’d learned the finer details of her form? She was eager for him to know her that well, and yearned to know him better than she already did.
Tucker dropped to his knees on the kitchen floor, his tousled brown hair all she could see when his head settled between her breasts. He hugged her waist possessively with one arm, locking her to him, and with his other hand he lowered the cup of her bra. He teased her nipple with short, hot licks, drawing it into a tight, almost painful nub, and latched his mouth on to it.
Emmy shivered as he worked her with his lips and tongue, burying her hands in his soft, messy hair. When her knees buckled, he kept her upright with his arm, and she ended up kneeling on his thighs. Never once did he stop teasing her nipple, and Emmy hadn’t known she could feel so much pleasure from the most basic foreplay.
It wasn’t enough, though.
Her whole body pulsed with a need so demanding it throbbed in her ears and blotted out all sound except for their twin heartbeats.
“Bedroom,” she rasped.
Tucker released her bra and pulled his mouth away, only to return to her lips for another searing kiss, his stubble making her sensitive mouth hurt, but in a thrilling way she didn’t want to stop. His kiss made it clear he was willing to take her right there, and Emmy had never wanted to give herself up so willingly.
He scooped her into his arms, supporting her weight easily, and she wrapped her legs around his waist. His hands kneaded her bottom, and the kiss lost any precision when she ground her pelvis against his erection. He sucked in a breath, and his lips and tongue were frenzied then, devouring her own mouth like he was starving and she was the only food that could sate him.
Emmy barely registered their transition from the kitchen to the bedroom until his weight came down on top of her and the softness of his sheets met her bare back. His body covering hers felt comfortable, like a human blanket wrapping her in its warmth.
As Tucker no longer needed to support her weight, he trailed kisses down her chest, sneaking fingers under her to unclasp her bra so he could lavish attention on both breasts in equal turn. Her nipples hardened into sensitive peaks, and she squirmed under him, begging for relief from the exquisite agony he had put her in.