Buccaneers pitcher Tyson Best is captivated by vibrant artist Cece Schmidt, and he is determined to uncover the mystery lurking in her eyes.
Cece knows her one-night rule will never be enough with Tyson. Frustrated with the hold her corrupted family still has over her, Cece can no longer ignore her feelings for Tyson, despite his high-profile career and the life she ran away from. After confessing partial truths about her past, Cece and Tyson begin their secret romance.
Tyson knows they have a strong connection and refuses to let someone special run out on him like his parents did years ago. In order to protect Cece, he seeks the whole truth about her past and in the process unveils crime and terror.
When Cece receives a threat from her uncle, she is desperate to end the fear once and for all—but first, she will have to play a dangerous game.
Will trust and love pull them through?
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“Damn, that hurt,” she grumbled.
“Cece?” He knew something had happened. The least he could do was help, so Tyson walked back…and immediately halted. Nothing could have prepared him for what he saw.
In the midst of what looked like a junkyard, sat Cece slumped over with her legs sprawled out in front of her. Her long, dark hair was pulled up into some crazy concoction on the top of her head, which oddly enough, closely resembled a pineapple. Although her face showed feelings of loss and frustration, her blue eyes still drew him in. Her body was covered in paint, and her clothes were a complete mess.
His heartbeat picked up a few paces as he swallowed hard. He was seeing her in her element for the very first time. To him, Cece looked flawless.
“Oh God. What are you doing back here?” she grumbled, visibly annoyed and embarrassed.
He stepped over the mess and noticed an old wooden ladder on its side, broken in two places.
“Lending a hand.” He outstretched his and she reluctantly took it. He pulled her up, accidently covering his hand with paint.
“Thanks. Sorry about the paint. I’ll get you some towels.”
Tyson shrugged it off. He didn’t care about the paint. “I actually stopped by to shop. The helping part was needed.”
He gave her a sympathetic smile. She had no reason to be embarrassed. Accidents happened. “Are you okay?”
Cece looked down at her body. “I think so. I won’t know the extent of the damage until I get all the paint off.”
“The color looks good on you.” Tyson was really hoping he could lighten her mood.
“Ugh. This is so humiliating.” Cece took a few steps and hissed. “Okay, damage to the leg for sure.”
“Here, let me help you.” Tyson swooped her up into his arms.
“Tyson! No! Now you have paint all over you,” she scolded.
“I don’t care. They’re just clothes, Cece. Where’s the bathroom?” He couldn’t care less about his clothes. Now, having Cece in his arms? That was another story.
Cece pointed to a small corridor. Tyson walked sideways with her cradled in his arms, so they could both fit down the narrow hall.
Once he reached the tiny bathroom, he set her on her feet. She hobbled a step and sat on the closed toilet. He grabbed some paper towels and handed them to her. He watched her closely as she cleaned the paint off her skin.
She looked up at him and caught him staring. He cleared his throat and glanced up at the ceiling, slightly embarrassed she noticed. He couldn’t help it, though. Now that she had been in his arms, he wanted to know more of how her skin felt and how she tasted, preferably without the paint.
“You don’t have to stay back here with me. Go ahead and shop. I’ll be out in a few minutes.”
“I don’t mind, Cece. I want to check out your leg once you get the paint off.”
She rubbed over an area of her leg and flinched.
Tyson grabbed some more paper towels and wet them. “Here, let me,” he insisted, kneeling in front of her. He cautiously began wiping away the paint.
* * * *
Cece was thoroughly humiliated and thankful the red paint was covering her flushed skin. She was watching how gentle Tyson was being with her. The star pitcher was tall, strong, and confident. And here he was taking care of her, a feeling she never experienced before. She suddenly felt claustrophobic in the small space and took a few calming breaths.
“Ah, there we go. You have one nasty bruise which is already appearing. No bleeding, or at least I don’t think so. Hard to tell with the red paint.”
“Crimson,” she corrected. Thinking about art and colors usually relaxed her—up until she fell off that rickety ancient ladder. She was pissed at herself for daydreaming too long about the piece she was working on.
He grazed over her leg, causing goosebumps to break out over her body which seemed to have a mind of its own.
“Crimson,” he repeated, looking at her with a soft smile. “I think you are going to live.”
“Too bad I can’t say the same for the artwork I fell on.” She stood and winced, pain radiating through her leg. Not a good sign.
She nodded, bracing herself on the bathroom sink.
“I’ll take you home.”
After bickering with him over the fact she could take care of herself, in pain or not, she let out a frustrating groan and realized he wasn’t going to take no for an answer. She was certain Tyson knew she would be okay, but why push it when he was offering to help. He was too kind. He was quite charming as well, even though she didn’t want to admit it.
It was a lethal combination.
Her admission shattered him in the most amazing way. He nodded at first, trying to get the blood to flow through his body properly, rather than straight south. He wanted to carefully choose his next words to reassure her and to prove she was so goddamn special to him.
“If there is anything I ever do that you don’t like, all you have to do is tell me to stop. I will stop immediately with no questions asked. We can always discuss anything before we try it. If you are uncomfortable, we can wait or not do it at all. Understand?”
“Yes,” she stated, looking at him straight on. “But, I am ready and willing.”
“Cece, baby.” He smoothed his dark hand over her cheek. “You deserve to be cherished like the finest treasures.”
He watched as her pupils dilated, loving the way her body gave him feedback as to what she enjoyed. She may have been used to one-night stands prior to him, but Tyson was going to treat her to a whole other world—a world she deserved. A world he wanted to give her.
“Right here on this dryer…I’m going to feast on that beautiful pussy of yours until you come on my face. Then I am going to bend you over and sink my cock so deep inside you that your screams of erotic pleasure will be echoing off these walls.”
Cece bit her lip. Tyson knew by looking at her it wasn’t because she was nervous. No. She was downright turned on and anxious to get started.
Without breaking eye contact with her, he slid his hands up her legs, under her skirt. He felt the lace of her panties and looped his thumbs onto the sides.
“Lift up, gorgeous.”
She leaned back and lifted her hips. He pulled at her thong and slowly dragged them down her legs. His body following them. He unbuckled her left sandal and pressed soft kisses on her foot. He repeated the same amorous deed with her other foot. He explored her legs with his tongue and lips, ending on the tops of her upper thighs.
“Spread for me.”
She did. He placed her feet up on the dryer. Her skirt scrunched around her waist, completely exposing her beautiful, glistening pussy to him. Tyson licked his lips while Cece closely watched him.
“So beautiful, Cece. I love how you are always wet for me.” He ran a finger along her wet folds.
“Only for you,” she whimpered.
He brought his wet finger up to her mouth. “Taste yourself, baby.”
She opened her mouth for him, and he stuck his finger in just a little. Her tongue darted out to lick him. He couldn’t resist sharing her sweet taste. Tyson licked her along with his finger, enjoying the experience with her.
He lifted her shirt over her head and removed her bra. Her nipples already in hard peaks. He twirled his tongue around one, and then the other. A stimulating moan vibrated off her lips. He shifted his mouth lower and lower. He breathed in her scent, enjoying how much more intoxicating it was now.
“I want you to let it all go, Cece. Give me everything.”
“Yes,” she said breathily.
He dipped his head and licked the entire length of her pussy. He fucking loved the way she tasted. He pushed his tongue inside her, drinking her up. Her lips swelling for him, already eager for a release. He wanted to hold her off just a bit longer. He wanted to watch her completely unravel for him.
“Tyson,” she moaned, her fingers clutching at his shoulders.
He carefully removed her hands from his body and placed them on her breasts, massaging them together before he released his hands.
“Keep them there,” he gently demanded.
Watching Cece play with her tits and having her legs wide open for him was fucking incredible. He gave her clit a suck and heard her sharp intake of breath. Not yet, he thought and went back to fucking her with his tongue. Every once in a while he glanced up at her. Her breaths quickened as she got lost in his touch. The more he licked her, the more eager she was with her tits. Stunning. He pushed three of his fingers deep inside her and moved his tongue around her clit.
“Oh God. Oh God,” she chanted.
He could feel her clamping down on him and lightly bit her clit.
“Holy fuck,” she cried out.
Her legs shuddered. She squeezed her nipples tightly. Tyson continued devouring her until every quake and clench had subsided.
He quickly picked her up off the dryer and spun her around. His shorts and boxers were around his ankles in record time. He bent her over and drove into her. She was dripping wet. The sounds of him thrusting in and out of her echoed throughout the small space.
“You feel so fucking magnificent,” he groaned.
He moved harder, faster. She met his demands, pushing back, bringing him in even deeper.
“Fuck me harder, Tyson. So hard,” she panted.
His fingers dug into her hips. He gave the woman what she asked for. As much as she thought he was in control, he wasn’t. His body gave her what hers unknowingly demanded. He wanted to please her as much as she wanted to please him. It was a fascinating thing to watch unfold.
He felt her clenching around his cock.
“Come with me,” he gritted, trying to hang on with her.
Erotic screams released from her throat as she gripped him like a vice, milking him of his orgasm.
“Fuck yeah,” he shouted, filling her.
He draped his body over hers, their breathing erratic. Their bodies covered in sweat. His lips danced over her back.
“I don’t think laundry day will ever be the same,” he declared.
Cece giggled. He grinned at the splendor of the melodic sound.
Field of Passion and Dreams
Graham Grayson is a hard worker and all around gentlemen. His dream to play in the majors like his dad just came true. He was called up to be the catcher for the Pittsburgh Buccaneers. On the day of team photos, he meets photojournalist Jordan Michaela Roy.
Still grieving the loss of her dad, Jordan sets aside emotions and memories of her sports reporter father to find her passion again on the field as a sports photojournalist. While working spring training for Major League Baseball, she never anticipates passion igniting off the field, too.
Neither Graham nor Jordan can deny their explosive attraction or the happiness they feel being with each other. Their fathers’ past friendship has them wondering about destiny.
While they worry about the demands of their careers, traveling, and being in the public eye, nothing can prepare Graham for the devastating news that makes him question life, his dream, and love.
Will Graham realize his mistakes before it is too late?
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Amazon Author: www.amazon.com/author/jacquelineanne