“Martinez, you’re officially on my shit list,” Luisa barks as she rushes to put her arms around her head, as if that will help the onslaught that’s about to come her way.
He winces and moves back to a safer distance.
I stop momentarily, thinking maybe I’ve taken our bantering too far. I duck down to ask if she’s really okay with this. What I find is a massive grin on her face and her body trembling with what I hope is excitement. I speak directly into her ear, “You ready, Angel?”
She looks up at me, and the sight of pure joy reflected in her gaze has me staggering back a step. I’m used to her bark and bite. But the vulnerable split-second look of unbridled happiness aimed my way?
Well, that might be the thing that makes a man like me feel good and holy.
Might even make me vow to make her smile again.
“Do your worst, Lucifer.”
I shake my head as I lift the bucket high above her head. “Ready boys?” I shout, and the team crowds around the two carts. Samuel and Luisa let out war cries as I yell, “Let’s get ’em!”
My bucket is the first to hit Luisa, and her shriek is high and loud. Before long, the whole shower area is doused in red sangria, leaving my Italian suit wrecked. Not that I give a shit.
I scan the massive shower and note the smiles on everyone’s faces, the camaraderie shared among this team, the euphoria that comes with doing something as absurd as dumping perfectly good alcohol on their boss in a form of celebration. I spot Daisy at the mouth of the shower, recording this all on her phone. As I watch, a rogue bucket is tossed her way, and Coach Weston places his hands on her arms to move her out of the splash zone.
Once the flying flashes of red come to a stop, I look down at Luisa. She smiles up at me. She looks adorable, her lashes wet and clumped together, her bright white outfit now a ruby red color.
“I look like a wet rat, don’t I?” she asks as she shakes her arms out.
I’m not thinking straight as I wrap her wet ponytail around my fist and start to wring the liquid out of it. She sucks in a shocked breath. “More like Carrie, but it suits you.”
She slaps my hand away from her hair but surprises me when she clutches my forearm. “Use your Neanderthal strength for good and lift me out of here. My ass feels like it’s sitting in swamp water.”
My hands dip to her waist and pull her out immediately. I wait until I know she has her feet firmly planted on the showerfloor, then check to make sure there’s nothing she can slip on. “Hands off the merchandise, Luci.” The smirk on her face has her looking downright devilish, and it has nothing to do with the fact that she’s covered in red.
“And here I thought you weren’t a fan of pet names.”
“You’re like a fungus, Stonehaven. Remember?”
“Yes, but last I recalled, I’m the fancy kind.”
She plucks her wet shirt away from her body and I can see that she was wearing a white lace bra underneath. Her nipples are visibly hard. “You owe me a new outfit,” she mumbles absentmindedly.
“And apparently some white lingerie. Is that what you always wear to work, or is tonight a special occasion?” My voice hardens at the thought of another man unwrapping Luisa at the end of the night as I lie in my bed like a fool dreaming about her. “Someone throw me a towel,” I bark at no one in particular.
Ace Middlebrooks, our third baseman and resident ladies’ man, stops in front of me with two towels. When I go to grab them, he momentarily moves them out of my reach. “One is for Álvarez to cover up with and the other is for her hair.” He hands one to her, and she secures it around her body quickly. Then she grabs the other one offered.
“Thanks, Middlebrooks. Who knew you could be such a gentleman?” Luisa smiles as she delicately wraps the towel around her wet locks.
Ace puts a finger against his lips. “Shh, it’ll be our little secret.” He backs away and joins his teammates, who are now enjoying the unsprayed bottles of champagne. I stare at his retreating form and wonder if being playful with his GM is reason enough to get him kicked off the team.
“Huh, interesting,” Luisa says, breaking me from my running thoughts. “Never thought I’d say green looks good on you.”
I look down at my black suit and white shirt that are now resembling a deep blush color. “Did we accidentally waterboard you or something? Because there is most definitely no green on my body right now.”
She rocks back and forth on her bare feet. “Sure, if you say so.”
It clicks a second later. “I wasn’t envious, or jealous, or whatever else it is that you’ve conjured in your mind.”
She places her hand on her chest. “I wouldn’t dream of it, Stonehaven. Remember size 36DD when you go shopping for my white lingerie. The one I only wear for ‘special occasions,’ and, of course, the kind you’ll never actually see worn on my body because we”—she points between the two of us—“are nothing more than work colleagues. Correct?”
She’s taunting me. I know the game she’s playing. I shouldn’t take the bait. But it’s no surprise that when it comes to Luisa Álvarez, my sense of control is weak at best. But I’ll be damned if I roll over and show her my belly. I lean down low, using the cover of the noisy clubhouse to keep our conversation private. “Incorrect. I am your boss, not your colleague. Just because I know what your sweet pussy tastes like and how tight you feel when you come around my cock does not mean you are going to pull me around by the collar and walk me around like a lovesick puppy here at our workplace. I’ll get you a new suit. Hell, I’ll buy you a lingerie store. But think twice before you try to taunt me with the memory of your tits, because two can play that game.”
Her eyes are wide as saucers as she takes in shallow breaths. I wipe a drop of sangria from her cheek with the pad of my thumb, but the rosy color remains.
