More than the Game by Jenni Bara

27

@EdwardDCampbell:So honored to join the @VoteLorettaM team as her VP. We are excited to move the country forward and finally break the glass ceiling by sending a woman to the Oval Office.

@CelebPeopleMag:Marabeth taking a break from the campaign trail to hit a Metros game—how much do we love these two?

The next month went by too fast for Marc. Suddenly it was August, and he wasn’t ready for it. He and Beth were in the city; they had attended the Metros game early in the day and were meeting Austin and Sid for dinner. The guys walked into the private room, where the women were talking and laughing together. Both men stopped in their tracks.

“Damn, we are the luckiest guys around,” Austin said softly.

And weren’t they? Marc looked at the beautiful women standing on the other side of the room. Both were incredible.

Tonight Beth had straightened her hair so it fell in soft waves, which fit perfectly with the face that screamed ‘cover girl.’ He kept telling himself she wasn’t his, yet as he stood there looking at her, he couldn’t remember exactly why. He couldn’t think of anything else he could want.

“The stunner in yellow is all mine, and I’m not sharing,” Austin mumbled. Marc would usually have commented jokingly about wanting Sid too, but standing next to Beth, she held no appeal.

“That’s fine. I only want the girl in green,” Marc said, looking at Beth in her emerald dress. And boy, did he want her. It didn’t matter that he’d had her plenty of times in the last week. She got his blood burning with one look from across the room.

The week they had shared was one of the best of his life, in so many ways. Her sister took the kids—hers and Beth’s—to Cape Cod. That had given Beth a chance for some R&R, which was much needed since she had all five kids most of the time.

Marc didn’t know how much rest Beth got, but they had plenty of relaxation. He’d spent the last six days waking up with Beth in his arms and holding her as he went to sleep. They laughed together and talked. He loved spending every day with her.

Although they had attended almost constant campaign events in the last month, they’d only gone to two local events the previous week. Their absence didn’t please her father, particularly since neither his other daughter nor any of his grandkids were available. But he didn’t press—mostly because the one time he tried, Marc had reminded Ed that he wasn’t putting up with his shit.

The only thing that had put a damper on his week was the new job. Since Marc hadn’t been willing to make the trip to Boston, or take time away from Beth, to sign the papers, Austin had brought them with him tonight. While the girls laughed and chatted, he and Austin had gone to the bar, signed his agreement for NESN, and taken the publicity shots that would be going up tomorrow. The whole thing had taken about five minutes. It wasn’t a bad gig; just for the last month and a half of the season so the move to Boston would be temporary. The problem was that he hadn’t told Beth—still.

She hated life in the spotlight—how could he tell her he was moving back into it? And probably without her?

“This from the man who didn’t think he could stand being with the same woman for a whole two months,” Austin said, chuckling slightly. “You realize your agreement’s been over for a while, right, Marc?”

But the deal had stopped mattering to him long before he’d suggested getting rid of the end date. He’d been taking things one day at a time, enjoying himself.

“I—” He didn’t know what he planned to say, so he just stopped.

“Experience has taught me that you don’t tire of the right woman, no matter how long it’s been,” Austin said, and slapped Marc on the back.

Marc frowned. He wasn’t in this for the long haul. Austin didn’t know that Marc hadn’t told Beth about the move or the job.

Everything was about to change.

He’d been clear that if he got a job somewhere else, he and Beth were done, so they were in for a long talk. One that he didn’t want to have.

“Yeah,” Marc mumbled sadly and went to take Beth her drink.

“You okay?” Beth asked, setting her hand on Marc’s thigh. He’d been quiet all through dinner. Something was going on in his head.

“I’m fine,” he said, and set his arm on the back of her chair, rubbing her shoulder.

“Getting jitters?” Austin asked, and Marc tensed.

“Jitters?” Beth asked, looking at Marc.

Marc’s lips were in a tight grimace. Something was off.

“How many times do I need to say it? I’m fine,” Marc said gruffly.

“Maybe we’d believe you if you hadn’t fallen off the face off the earth for the last two months,” Sydney teased as she lifted her wine glass.

Marc rolled his eyes.

“You used to spend two or three nights a week at Poison, you know, and now we haven’t seen you since June.” Her smile disappeared as she took the swallow of her wine.

“Okay, okay.” He put his hand up. “I promise we’ll come by more often.”

“That’s not going to be likely, considering your schedule,” Austin said.

Marc shot him a nasty glare that Beth didn’t understand. Austin’s eyes moved from her to Marc again, then he frowned.

“I said we’ll come by,” Marc snapped at Austin.

His stress was becoming clearer every day, but the cause remained unknown. Beth wished he would talk to her. She was trying to understand his need for space, knowing he wasn’t used to relationships; she didn’t want to overwhelm him. But she was feeling jaded. Beth didn’t plan on ruining their last night alone together, but tomorrow they were going to have to talk. Tonight, however, she could do the next best thing and get his mind off it.

The kids wouldn’t be back home from Massachusetts until tomorrow, so she and Marc had planned to stay in his apartment in the city tonight. A plan formed in her mind. The question was, could she pull it off?

She knew Marc loved the women who flocked around the ballplayers because they always had a compliment coming his way so that by the end of the night, he felt like the king of the world. Usually, she liked to keep Marc’s ego in check, but tonight she would try a different approach.

After they said goodnight, Beth excused herself to the bathroom. She told Marc to wait for her in the bar. She watched as he headed that way, and once Austin and Sydney had left, Beth prepared to pick herself up a baseball player.

“You’re Marc Demoda, aren’t you?” Beth said, looking starry-eyed as she settled herself on the stool next to Marc and slowly crossed her legs, rubbing her shin lightly against his calf.

“Beth?” Marc asked, confused.

“No, I’m Tiffany.” She extended her hand as she tried to give him a sultry look. “I’m a big fan. Huge.” She gave him a sheepish smile and cocked her head slightly to the side.

“Are you now?” Marc’s eyes twinkled.

“I’ve always wanted to meet you,” Beth said, letting her finger trail lightly over his arm making S shapes. “In the… flesh.”

Marc leaned against the back of his stool, looking bemused. “Why is that?” He would not help her out at all.

“Ever since you did that ‘Sexiest Man Alive’ spread in People, I’ve had a crush on you.” Beth wet her lips with the tip of her tongue and Marc’s eyes dropped to her mouth. “You’re the star of all my favorite fantasies.” She nibbled on her bottom lip.

“Well, sweetheart, why don’t you tell me about some of them?” he said, drawing the words. “I like a good fantasy.”

Beth smiled seductively and lifted her hand, hooking her finger in a gesture that told him to lean in closer. When he did, she whispered a few ideas in his ear and felt a rush of satisfaction at the choked sound that came out of his throat.

“Listen—Tiffany, is it?” Marc asked. His eyes suddenly became dark, and Beth nodded. His hand came up and rubbed her leg. “I have an apartment a couple of blocks from here. Want a nightcap?”

“Are we really getting a drink, or did you have something else in mind?” Beth asked.

Marc laughed wholeheartedly. “How about both?”

“Okay,” Beth said, and let Marc help her off the stool.

Beth waited until they were out on the street to say anything else. She kept up the persona for the entire two-block walk to his apartment, telling him how great he was—everything from his unmatchable pitching ability to his stunning looks to his remarkable intelligence to how amazing his butt looked in his Metros uniform. At first she wanted to roll her eyes, but Marc lapped it up, so she had fun with it.

“You know, Tiffany—that jersey you were talking about? I have it upstairs,” Marc said, trapping her against the wall with his arms as they waited for the elevator.

His breath danced on her cheek, and she leaned closer, taking a small nibble on his earlobe. She loved his quick intake of breath.

“The one you were wearing when you won the World Series?” Beth asked, then pulled back as another couple entered the lobby.

Marc quickly positioned her so that she was standing in front of him. She smiled over her shoulder as the hard bulge pressed into the small of her back, and he met her gaze with eyes that said, ‘Look what you did.’ Marc kept her close, hiding the evidence as they got into the elevator, and he moved to lean against the back wall, spreading his legs and settling her in between them.

The couple looked carefully at her, then Marc, and whispered something quietly to each other. Then they got off the elevator, leaving them alone again.

“They so knew who you were,” Beth said, looking up at Marc like he was the most fantastic thing on the planet.

“Happens all the time.”

“That’s because you’re the best pitcher New York ever had,” Beth said, and his eyes twinkled as he smiled.

“I never get tired of hearing that,” he said, pulling her out of the elevator to his apartment door.

“Want me to repeat it?” she asked as he kicked the door shut behind them.

“I can think of better things you could do with that mouth of yours,” he said and kissed her as he lifted her off her feet. She wrapped her legs around his waist as he moved down the hallway to his bedroom.

He set her down on the floor and went into his closet, returning quickly with a white and green shirt in his hand. The big ‘18’ on the back of his jersey stood out as he handed it to her.

“I’ll get us the drink I promised. Leave the heels on, Tiffany.” His eyes flashed as he looked at her black spike heels.

But the jersey bothered her. When she’d told him she wanted to wear it while making love to him, she hadn’t expected the damn thing to be right at hand. And suddenly she wondered how many other women had asked him the same thing.

He turned to leave.

“Ah, Marc?” He turned back, hearing the difference in her voice. If she wanted to stop the game, he would.

Beth knew his past. Did she want details? She cleared her throat. “Hurry back, hotshot.”

And he did. Marc returned with two beers, then stopped short, nearly dropping them. She’d left the jersey unbuttoned but covering her chest, even as she pulled the sides apart by putting her hands on her hips to show off her black lace thong.

His pupils dilated, and his lips parted. “I always wondered what my jersey would look like on a woman,” he choked, trying to recover. “Better than I imagined.”

Beth smiled.

He dropped the beers on the dresser and moved to her with determination. He slowed once he had her in his arms, teasing and touching her until she finally couldn’t stand it and began begging him.

“You know you’re the best, Marc—please, give me what I want,” Beth said. He’d made this into a game. If she wanted him, she had to tell him how great he was.

“Really? The best, huh?” He smiled down at her.

“Yes,” she said, and then he finally thrust into her, finding the deep angle she craved. The knot built inside her as he moved fast, hard-driving her closer to release. Then he stopped.

“No!” she cried, and he laughed.

“Tell me again,” Marc teased, holding himself perfectly still. His back was wet with sweat, and he was fighting against his own need to continue the game.

“You’re amazing,” she panted. “So great, wonderful—you know that, Marc. I need you, please, take me hard,” she said, moving her hips and making him grit his teeth.

“Damn right.” He rolled, bringing her with him, so she was now on top. He grabbed her hips, guiding her into a slow rhythm—too slow, but he wouldn’t let go of her.

“Tell me more,” he demanded, forcing her to hold perfectly still as he flashed his dimples at her. She looked down into his eyes, stormy with desire, and saw everything she’d ever wanted. How could she not love this man?

“I love you, Marc.”

But it was too serious this time. She forgot the playful tone she’d been using, because she was no longer playing the role of Tiffany.

Quickly he rolled again, putting himself back on top, and drove into her with a new, faster rhythm—one that her body wanted so badly. She didn’t have time to worry about her slip of the tongue, because her senses swirled. He filled her with a fire that made everything else irrelevant as the world around her shimmered. She shut her eyes, but the shimmering still sparked behind her lids as her hips moved in time with his. He shuddered, and her name flew off his lips with a deep guttural sound, then she gave herself up and finally shattered in an explosion of light. His weight crashed down on top of her, and they both panted for air.

He found his control before she did. He rolled over, pulling her along with him, his jersey floating over them. She rested her head on his chest, listening to the pounding of his heart against her ear.

“We’re definitely doing that again,” Marc mumbled.

“Huh?” Beth asked.

“I loved that game. We’re doing it again one day, if I don’t have the jersey bronzed first.” Marc chuckled, though his breathing hadn’t yet returned to normal.

She smiled.

“Was Tiffany that good for you?” she asked teasingly.

“No, not good,” he joked, but his arm tightened around her. She pulled away to sit up, and he smiled. “Probably average.”

Beth pretended to glare. “Oh, I’m average now, am I?”

His smile faltered, and his reply had no teasing tone anymore. “No. You’re the best. You’re the best thing that’s happened to me for a long time, Beth.”

The lump that formed in Beth’s throat surprised her, and his arms came around and pulled her close against his chest.