Playing with Fire - A Sports Romance Read Online Free

yesterday lifting weights, not having sex. I shake it off, pull on a pair of jeans and a dark blue t-shirt, then grab my shoes and head out the door.
    A much-needed distraction waits for me at the elevator. My neighbor from down the hall, Madison Greene, stands there in skin-tight cotton shorts and a thin black tank that shows off every inch of her delicious body.
    I sneak up on her and slide my hands to her hips. “Good morning, beautiful.”
    Madison spins to face me, caramel eyes wide. Her body relaxes when she sees me, and I pull her tight body against mine.
    “Mornin’, Corey.” Her voice is low and breathy and sexy as hell. She grabs a strand of her long chocolate brown hair and twirls it around her finger as she chews on her bottom lip.
    The elevator dings, and I guide her backwards when the silver doors slide open, pushing her up against the back wall.
    “You ready to admit you need a workout partner?” I give her a devilish smile and get the reaction I knew I would. A rush of blood to her cheeks, her body sagging into mine as her knees start to tremble.
    I’ve been working her over since I moved in last year. Madison was innocence waiting to be broken, and she let me break her in. She’s model-thin and looks like she should be walking the runway, not my apartment’s dull gray halls. Her legs go for miles and her breasts strain at her tank, begging to be fondled.
    “Don't you have to go to work?” She runs a slim hand up my chest and bats her lashes at me. Triumph swells in my chest. She’s getting bolder every day. I can’t wait to have her exactly where I always want her: pinned under my body with her long legs wrapped around my waist.
    “Mmm, that I do,” I say with my lips against her ear.
    Her hands fumble at the front of my pants. “I need you, baby. Maybe you can come over tonight?” I pull back and raise a brow while I look her in the eye. “Maybe sooner? Say, one o’clock?”
    A grin spreads across my face. “One o’clock,” I promise. “I'll be there.” The elevator dings and the doors slide open. I let go of the poor girl carefully, making sure she won't fall to the floor without my body to support her. “Later, baby.”
    The drive across town to the ballfield is a short one, but traffic this time of day blows. I crank the radio up and catch a few songs I heard at the bar the other night. It’s all I can do to keep control of my car while reliving memories of dancing with Ashley. Her hips grinding hard into mine. The taste of her tongue in my mouth.
    Damn. One o’clock can't come soon enough. I need something, anything, to relieve the throbbing in my pants. My buddies and I used to joke back in college that you should think of baseball to get your mind off sex. In my case, it tends to work, since that’s my job.
    After a quick stop at the locker room where I shed my jeans in exchange for a pair of shorts, I head out to the batting cages. I let the rhythm overtake me, calming away my sexual tension. The crack of the wooden bat against the ball, and the ball hitting the chain-link cage, plays out like my favorite style of music. It clears my mind and allows me to focus all my energy on the swing, the hit, the thrumming in my hands and arms as I pull back, ready for more. After an hour, my mind is in a better place. I grab a quick shower before heading to the team meeting.
    “What the hell is this thing supposed to be about, anyway?” Matt Cromwell, my teammate and closest friend in this city, asks as I finish pulling on my jeans.
    “Damned if I know,” I tell him. “I'm the new guy, remember? You think they tell me these types of things?”
    “Don't you have an in? Some pretty young thing at the front desk?” he says with a shit-eating grin on his dark brown face.
    I can't help but smile. He’s talking about Tanya down at reception. “Not yet, but soon,” I assure him as we throw aside our towels and head out of the locker room. I’ve been working on trying to bed her