“So, tell me about the rookie they brought up to pitch for you,” I said and his eyebrows lifted.
“Did I tell you he won’t be staying?” He smirked and a dimple appeared. I wanted to get lost in that dimple.
I reached for my wineglass and took a sip. “Where’s he going?”
“He’s temporary,” he said with a smirk.
“Who told you that?”
“He told me. Just walked up to me one night during a game and said, ‘They told me not to get too comfortable here, you know.’ Which, of course, I didn’t know.” Jack fumbled with his fork. “Fuck. I’ll never get used to trying to eat with my right hand.”
I laughed. “So, what did you say to him after that? Anything?”
“Fuck no, I didn’t say anything. I just looked at him. I don’t owe that kid anything. He’d take my position in a heartbeat if they let him. And I know that.”
“So, he’ll get sent back down to Triple-A when you’re off the disabled list?” I asked before filling my mouth with a large helping of Caesar salad.
“I assume so. He’s good, though. And I hate how much I hate that he’s good. Makes me feel like a dick.”
“You’re not a dick. You worked your ass off to earn that position and you don’t want it taken away from you.” I understood that feeling. I knew how much baseball meant to Jack and how much he’d been through personally and professionally to achieve his goals. No one wanted to have one stupid incident be the catalyst for your entire career changing. Or for its loss.
“Exactly. But I want the team to win. And he helps them win. But then I’m pissed that he helped them win because sometimes I don’t want him to be that good.” He dragged his good hand through his hair, his mood suddenly shifting.
“It makes sense,” I said encouragingly, trying to reassure him as his eyes lifted to meet mine. It was the team’s job to win games at all costs. Jack was terrified he’d lose his position to a younger kid who threw faster than him. Every player’s fear when they were injured was that they’d be replaced. Baseball made it known that there was a long line of younger guys waiting to take your spot the moment you screwed up. That was a lot of pressure.
My voice rose in pitch as my thoughts spilled from my mouth, my adrenaline kicking in. “You love your team. You don’t ever want them to lose. But you don’t want this kid to be better than you are because you want to be missed. You want to be needed. You want the goddamn Mets to be affected by your absence!”
Jack’s eyes flew open wide and a huge smile lit up his face. “That’s it! That’s exactly f**king it. God, I love you.”
The sound of his chair screeching across the tile floor hit my ears as quickly as Jack’s hot mouth did. “You. Naked. Now.”
My heart raced and the space between my legs ached with want. It never ceased to amaze me how easily Jack could turn me into a hot puddle of desire. One second we were laughing, and the next all I could think about was having him inside me.
I turned my head toward him as his mouth crushed against mine. He kissed me hard once, twice, then when I parted my lips, his tongue took advantage and searched for mine. The moment our tongues touched, my body ached and throbbed in unison.
“You’re so hot,” I managed to get out as he lifted me into his arms and carried me to the bedroom. I started to protest, concerned about his broken hand, but he silenced me with his mouth.
“Don’t talk,” he demanded and I obeyed. I’d do anything he asked right now, I was so turned on. “God, Cassie, I want you. You’re so smart.”
He kissed my neck and the feel of his lips made me dizzy. “And beautiful.” He licked his way down my neck to my shoulder, where he bit gently and nibbled. I breathed out a heady moan and felt him twitch against me.
“And talented,” he continued as he reached for the bottom of my top, lifting it up over my head and tossing it to the floor. He instantly moved his mouth to my bare stomach, where he kissed and licked around my belly button, the skin so sensitive there that I shivered.
“And made for me.” His head lifted as his brown eyes met mine. “You know that, right?” His eyes narrowed as his right hand moved to unclasp my bra. “That you were literally f**king made for me? This body,” he said, discarding my lacy bra onto the floor with my top, “this body was made for me. And only me. Tell me you know that.”
Jack reached his hand toward my cheek and I closed my eyes, letting the heaviness of his words settle inside me. The space between us filled with so much love, lust, desire, and want, I felt like I could literally cut a piece out of the air and consume it. This moment could fill me … complete me … satisfy me. I could live forever from the emotions I felt in this one moment.
“Say it, Cassie. Tell me you know this body was made to fit with mine. And only mine. No rookie can take my place. No one else can have this position. You’re my f**king wife and no one else’s. Ever. I worship you. I will always worship you.”
I didn’t know why, but his words filled me with so much emotion, I almost started crying. Maybe it was the way he said them, or what was being said, but my chest heaved with each laboring breath I took. Overwhelmed, I looked at my husband. My sexy as hell, overly confident, amazingly beautiful husband. Looking at him now, like this, I felt reassured at just how lucky we were to have each other. I’d never want anyone else as long as I lived. It was Jack Fucking Carter for me, or no one.