Текст книги "Third Base"
Автор книги: Heidi McLaughlin
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Текущая страница: 11 (всего у книги 15 страниц)
It’s after one in the afternoon when I finally roll out of bed and flex my aching muscles. As soon as my feet touch the floor, memories of last night and this morning come rushing back. Daisy’s clothes are strewn all over my room. I thought I had put most of them in the same place, apparently not. The bed shifts behind me and small hands wrap around my waist.
“I think you missed school,” I tell her as I weave my fingers with hers.
“I have finals this week so my schedule is sporadic.”
I turn and face her. Her beautiful breasts, marked with small bruises from where my fingers dug into them, are on full display. Even though this is all new to her, I encouraged her to ride me, and she did, coming all over my cock for the first time. It was a glorious sight watching her breasts as they bounced up and down while she took my dick deep inside of her. Of course, seeing her let go of her inhibitions was the sexiest thing I’ve ever witnessed. Sex is by far the most natural experience our body goes through. No one needs lessons if you listen to what your body wants and set your mind free.
Lying back down, I use her hip as my pillow and rub my fingertips along her bare stomach. She threads her fingers through my mop top, which is in need of a haircut. No words are spoken, just simple touches. I should be the girl I’ve become and ask her what all of this means. Surely, for her, considering what she just gave me, it means we’re together. I don’t want to assume, though, or come off as too eager. Again with the labels and the branding that society requires you conform to. For all I know, Daisy wants to just be and not have to answer whether or not she’s my girlfriend. As far as I’m concerned, she is.
“I have to get ready.” It’s game day and for the first time in my life I wish I didn’t have to play today. I’d love to crawl back into bed next to her and make love to her all day long, breaking only for sustenance, which would mean she’s walking around my place naked. Sounds like a good day to me.
“Thank you,” she says sweetly, causing me some confusion.
“Why are you thanking me?”
“Because you didn’t slam the door in my face when you had every right to, and for what you did for my grandfather. He was so happy yesterday.” Her eyes mist up and she tries to hide her face, but I stop her. I don’t want her to cry.
“I like you, Daisy. A lot, actually, and when you wouldn’t return my phone calls or text messages I had to do something to get your attention. It’s a win-win all the way around. We’re together and your grandfather is happy. I’ll do it for every game if you want.”
She nods. “He’d like that.”
“Consider it done,” I say, moving closer to kiss her. Once our lips meet there’s no turning back. Her hands are everywhere – in my hair, down my back gripping my ass and finally to my erect cock. The moment she starts stroking, I’m a goner. Daisy knows I’m not leaving this bed until we’ve both found our release. She already knows how to press my buttons and make me submit to her.
“Aren’t you sore?” I ask as she continues to drive me toward the edge.
“Yes,” she says breathlessly. As much as it pains me, I move out of her grip and lay beside her.
“Don’t think you have to do this. If you’re sore, you should rest.”
She turns on her side to face me. “What do you do when you’re sore after a game? Do you stop and rest? Do you wait for the ache to go away or do you continue to play?”
“Play,” I say, winking my eye.
“Let’s play, Ethan. Come hit a homerun,” she whispers against my lips.
Her baseball analogy has me scrambling to my bedside table and yanking the drawer open, dropping it to the ground. The contents start to spill out, but not before I can grab the string of condoms. Yanking one off and ripping it open, I quickly sheath myself. Daisy’s focus is on me, her eyes are full of lust and her bottom lip is pulled between her teeth. My dick jumps with excitement, knowing that it’s about to be buried deep between her tight walls.
When Daisy sees me moving toward her, she’s kicking off the sheet that was barely covering her and spreading her legs for me. I love how it’s automatic, how she knows what she wants. She’s not shy or hesitant about having sex again and I really like that, especially considering this was her first time.
I tease her briefly before dipping my head in and pulling back out, letting my thumb tickle her clit. We’re short on time or I’d be working her body over, bringing her to the brink before pounding into her.
“This is what we call a quick-hitter.” I thrust quickly, pushing our rhythm faster than I want to.
“You’re already scoring,” she says, biting into my shoulder.
I love that she’s a sports fan, but I never knew that it would turn me on so much. My fairly new bed is creaking with each thrust. Daisy is moaning as her fingers dig into my back. Each grunt I give brings me closer to the edge, and when her eyes look into mine and her back arches, I start praying that she’s close because I’m about to fucking explode.
Adding slightly more pressure to her clit, she starts to buckle and move her hips faster. The squeezing of her walls around my throbbing dick is all that I need to let go.
“You’re late,” Kidd says as I stagger into the clubhouse. The other guys are talking amongst themselves and aren’t paying attention to me. To say I’m hung-over would be an understatement even though I didn’t drink an ounce of booze yesterday. I’m tired, my muscles ache in both good and bad ways, and the euphoric high I’m feeling right now makes it seem like I’m floating.
I quickly glance at the clock and see I have about thirty minutes before we’re supposed to take the field and by all accounts, I really am late. I’m usually one of the first to arrive, often getting in some cardio before it’s time to change, or teasing the reporters in here because it’s fun and easy to get the women to swoon with a simple wink.
“Had stuff to get done today,” I say, slipping my watch off my wrist and placing it in my locker followed by my phone.
“Oh yeah, what’s her name?”
I shake my head and reach for my uniform, which is nicely folded and waiting for me. It’s too bad that the in-house laundry can’t wash the rest of my clothes because I hate doing laundry.
“Was she a hooker?”
I choke and start coughing. Kidd pats my back while laughing his ass off. Fucking jerk.
“I think I’m capable of picking up women of the non-charging kind.”
“Stripper?”
I shake my head no as I take off my shirt and hang it up. I instantly regret getting undressed in front of him.
“Son of a bitch, you fucked a vampire.” He’s seen the bite marks Daisy left on my shoulder and chest. I didn’t mind them then and I don’t know. I honestly don’t give a shit what Kidd or anyone else has to say about them either. Last night… I don’t want to be cheesy and say it was magical, but damn if she wasn’t made for me. We fit together perfectly, even if the elephant in the room sat there mocking me while I got my rocks off. We need to clear the air about the whole blogger bullshit before it escalates. Sarah says she should be allowed to read it because they’re fun and can give you a different perspective of what’s going on. We’re famous and need to accept that people want to know everything about us. I hate to think Sarah is right, but I know she is.
Everyone in the clubhouse stops talking. I don’t need to turn around to know that everyone is staring at me. I can feel their eyes boring into my back.
“You’re an ass.”
“Yes, but you knew that. Spill. Let’s be girls and gossip.”
“No thanks,” I say as I focus on getting dressed. Kidd finally drops the inquisition. I know it’s not over and he’ll be up my ass again, but for right now he’s quiet.
As soon as my cleats hit the concrete walkway out to the dugout, my heart starts racing. I’m anxious to see her and even though I see her almost every day, everything is different. Sex changes everything. The only time it doesn’t is when it’s a hook-up and you never intend to see that person again. I intend to see Daisy every fucking day until she tells me to stop.
The moment I climb the steps I’m looking left. She’s there with her grandfather. I’m not close enough to see his expression, but that’s about to change. I can’t help the movement of my feet as I walk over to her. Kids come rushing down for autographs and I oblige each and every request, looking at her briefly in between each signing.
When the usher stands by the gate blocking people from being near her, even though that’s not really what he’s doing, I know it’s my opportunity to talk to her.
She stands when she sees me walking toward her. I wave to the usher, who nods and moves up a few steps so she can come over to the gate.
“I really want to kiss you right now,” I say, clasping my hands together in front of me. My cup prevents anyone from seeing the semi forming in my pants.
“I think the staff would frown on such behavior.”
I nod in full agreement. “So would your grandfather. I think his idea of how baseball players’ act would not coincide with me sticking my tongue down his granddaughter’s throat.”
Daisy laughs and covers her mouth. She looks over her shoulder, beaming at her grandpa and I’m instantly jealous that she’s getting moments like this with him. I miss mine and now I’m going to call my mom and arrange for everyone to come out here for a week.
I do something that isn’t against the rules, but frowned upon nonetheless. I open the gate and take the few steps to talk to John. Fans see this and start rushing my way, but the usher calls for them to back up and now we’re being blocked from people bum rushing us, giving us minimal privacy.
“How are you doing?” I ask, shaking his hand.
“Oh young man, I’m a very happy man right now and I have you to thank for this.” He spreads his arm out and looks over the stadium. I don’t miss the slight watering in his eyes, but that doesn’t need to be brought to his attention.
“I like hearing that. I hope we can make it worthwhile for you. I know you’re missing Jeopardy.”
He laughs and squeezes my hand. I pat him on the back and walk back toward the gate, subtly touching Daisy’s hip when I pass.
“I’ll be over tonight,” she says, winking and sending the nerve endings in my body to heightened alert.
“Fuck me,” I mumble when I pass through the gate. I look over my shoulder and smile. “I’ll be there.”
I jog out to the outfield to see Kidd and the other guys. If I don’t do it now, it’ll happen in the clubhouse and I’m not sure if I’m ready to answer any of the media’s questions about Daisy. My teammates are a different story.
Bainbridge wraps his arm around my neck and rubs his knuckles over my hat. “Fucking wrap that shit tight, Davenport. The last thing you need right now is a pregnancy.”
“It’s okay, Bainbridge, his pussy packer is weak in that department,” Kidd yells as he catches one of Meyer’s pop flies.
“Fuck you, Kidd. I don’t see you with anyone.”
He looks at me after tossing the ball back toward the infield and says, “Why do you think I keep having parties that you never attend? I’m testing out the finer qualities of the Massachusetts women.”
“You’re going to get into trouble if you’re not careful,” Bainbridge adds.
“Nah. I know what no means.”
When I look at Kidd, I’m not so sure he does, but I hope that when a woman says it, it registers.
No one considers May to be a mid-season slump, unless you’re a Renegades fan. We’re racking up more losses than wins right now and heading into June, we’re well under 500 with a 24-30 record. This isn’t how our season is meant to go and it’s probably time for General Manager, Ryan Stone, to take a look at the coaching staff.
Why staff, you ask?
Right now the Renegades are the youngest team in the league and it doesn’t make sense to break them up. With the exception of Bainbridge, the team age is an average of 24-years old. They’re young men in their prime and not so far removed from their college days that they still understand the concept of hard work.
Is our coaching/management staff bad?
No, not necessarily, but they’re not showing stellar improvement either. Clearly the batting line-up isn’t working and could use some fine-tuning. And management needs to make a move on Cooper Bailey before it’s too late. Rumors are milling around that he’s seeking a trade because he’s ready to play for the big leagues. And honestly, we can’t really blame him. His batting average is through the roof, as is his on base percentage. Those are numbers the Renegades need right now.
No one is consistent right now for the Renegades. When one is hot, the rest are fizzling. The guys need to find their happy medium as a team and deliver the games they’re being paid to deliver.
GOSSIP WIRE:
Even though they’re going to counseling, it looks like the Bainbridges are heading for the big D (and I don’t mean Dallas) if he isn’t traded or doesn’t announce his retirement soon. Sources close to the couple have said that Bainbridge has, in fact, cheated and isn’t willing to let the mistress go and the current Mrs. Bainbridge isn’t willing to concede to a divorce without some serious cash flow. As it’s been stated before, the senior Mr. Bainbridge made sure his son was fully protected from any gold digging that might occur and Mrs. Bainbridge is none too happy that no one is willing to pay her off.
Isn’t marriage grand?
Ethan Davenport – Boston’s resident Most Eligible Bachelor – is off the market. His college co-ed, who didn’t graduate with her class this month – has been seen going in and out of his house nightly. Thanks to Mr. Davenport for putting his address on Twitter, we’re able to send our spies out whenever we want.
Easton Bennett has yet to acknowledge the recent birth of a son to his sometimes girlfriend. In fact, he hasn’t even been seen with her, but has been spotted going in and out of her apartment. I guess we’re waiting for that pesky blood test to reveal the true identity of the father.
The BoRe Blogger
I’m standing against a rental van equipped with a wheelchair lift and a brand new scooter inside. I’m not trying to buy Daisy’s love, but trying to ease her burden. She struggles financially, something I didn’t take into consideration until Boston University had graduation and she didn’t invite me to attend. I tried not to let my feelings get hurt, but when I read the list of graduates and she wasn’t in there, I had to ask her why. It took some prodding and some definite hot ass kisses to get her to spill. I played it off, acting like it didn’t affect me, but the truth of the matter is that it does. I don’t see her as a charity case. She’s my friend… my girlfriend, in fact, and if I want to help her, I’m going to.
When Daisy steps out, her eyes widen. I know she’s probably thinking that I bought this for her, and while that would definitely be a grand gesture, she’s far too young to be driving around in a van.
“What’s this?” Daisy asks, walking toward me.
Spreading my arms out wide, I say, “This is our mode of transportation today. However, there is a surprise in the back for your grandpa.”
Her eyes narrow in skepticism as she leans in to look. The windows are darkened, limiting her line of sight. “What? I don’t see anything.” she says, stepping back and crossing her arms.
Pressing the button on my fob, the door slides open, revealing a custom black and red (of course) motor scooter. As much as I want to admire the craftsmanship of the decals, her expression is far more heart-warming. Her mouth drops open and there’s a slight cry of surprise before she covers her mouth with her hand.
“We can’t accept this,” she says. I knew she was going to say that. Everyone always says that when you try and give them an expensive gift.
“Why not?” I want to hear her excuses and if they’re valid, I’ll donate the scooter.
“Because it’s too much.”
That’s definitely not a valid enough reason. I step forward and pull her into my arms, kissing her gently on her cheeks and finally her lips.
“Over the past month, I’ve seen a man come to life because he’s doing what he loves – attending Renegades baseball games. I know I’ve made that happen, but I also think that your grandfather would probably like to get out by himself every now and again, maybe go to the store and get some things for himself. This thing is motorized and takes little effort. It’s a gift Daisy, one that you’ll both benefit from. He’ll be able to move around the house more freely and not depend so much on you or the nurses.”
She nods, knowing I’m right.
“The van will still pick him up for games, so you won’t have to worry about the T or anything like that, but all he has to do is get in the elevator and now he’ll be able to do that by himself.”
“Only if the elevator works,” she says, wiping her tears away. I kiss her again and again, not caring who is watching from the street.
“The elevator will be working today. I made some calls and was assured that by the time we get back, the elevator will be fully functioning.”
She gasps and steps back. “You did what?”
I shrug. It wasn’t a big deal, at least not to me, however her stance tells me I may have crossed the line. “What?”
“You can’t go around making phone calls like that, Ethan. There are rules and… well you just can’t do it.”
I bite the inside of my cheek, trying to cool my temper. “You live in a housing unit that the state funds; you need working equipment. I made a call and it’ll be working by the time we get back, otherwise they’re in violation and you’re not required to pay rent.”
Daisy crosses her arms and looks down the street. I do what seems natural and pull her to me, enveloping her in my arms. “I’m only trying to help. I thought it’d be nice to have an elevator that actually works so when you’re carrying groceries up, you’re not killing yourself.”
“I know, I’m sorry,” she mumbles into my shirt. “I’m not used to anyone doing such nice things for us. I don’t know how to take it.”
I pull back, cupping her cheeks with my hands. “Get used to it, Daisy.”
She stretches up on her toes, giving me a chaste kiss. “Where are we going today?”
“We are going to New York City to watch the Mets play.”
Her mouth drops open and her eyes light up. “Seriously?”
“Would I lie?”
“No, but oh my… my grandpa is going to be so freaking happy.” She leaves me standing by the van as she heads to her door. “Wait, why not the Yankees?” she asks with a smile, before disappearing inside. I shake my fist at her before going to work on getting the scooter out of the van. That damn elevator better work today because there’s no way I can carry this up the stairs.
As far as road trips go, this is one of the best. The drive is just under four hours from Boston to NYC and John has made sure to pass the time easily for me. Stories of Daisy when she was a little girl have had me laughing the entire time. Each time I hear, “Oh, Papa, no,” I know it’s going to be a doozy of a story.
“When Daisy was about ten, she had this crush on the neighbor boy. I think he was about three years older…”
I reach for Daisy’s hand and give it a squeeze. She’s been a trooper, letting her grandfather go on and on about her life growing up.
“Her grandma and I told her that he was too old for her and that he’d break her heart, but she wouldn’t listen. Each day she’d wait for him to get home from practice or whatever he did after school, sitting on the front porch step watching each kid go by. When he’d go by on his bike, she’d run out there to say hi and he’d talk to her until his mom started hollering for him.
“One day, he brought a girl home and little miss Daisy became so enraged she socked the girl right in her shoulder before she came running into the house, telling us that boys are stupid.”
“Do you still think boys are stupid, Daisy?” I ask her, hoping my voice is low enough that her grandfather can’t hear us in the backseat.
“No, she doesn’t. She likes you, doesn’t she?”
“Papa,” she scolds as she turns around. “Ethan is a fine young gentleman and doesn’t bring other girls home on his bike.” We’re both laughing by the time she ends her sentence.
“I can assure you, John, I won’t be bringing any girls home on my bike.”
Daisy is shaking her head and trying to control her laughter. I’m trying to stay focused on the road while I navigate to Citi Field. When the front office called to get me tickets, they offered me a luxury suite. They also suggested I invite the rest of the team, but that defeated the purpose of having some quality time with John and Daisy. Instead, we’re behind the plate with all we can eat food – another important part of sitting where we are. This is more for John, though, and our combined love for the game.
“John, do you think you’ll want a shirt?” I ask, after showing the parking attendant my pass. He waves me on, leaving me to find my own spot. With the new scooter John has, we can park wherever we want and walk while he drives along beside us.
“And be a Mets fan for the day? Nah, I don’t want to waste my money.”
I don’t blame him, but I’d rather be a Mets fan than a Yankees fan.
The moment we’re parked and out of the van, John is getting himself out. Already, he’s found some quick independence and I’m sure to point that out to Daisy, who rolls her eyes. We have yet to tell him that the scooter is his to keep because she’s not sure how he’ll react. I suggested we not tell him until he asks, or until I drop them off tonight and he’s taking it up and I’m leaving without it. Either way, I’m not bringing that sucker home.
Daisy and I walk hand-in-hand, following John to the gates. He’s like a little kid going to his first game and I love that I’m a part of this. Daisy stops us mid-step and pulls me down, placing a sweet kiss on my lips. So many thoughts about heading back to the van run through my mind, except now wouldn’t be the right time for a quickie.
“What’s that for?” As if she needs a reason to kiss me. I’ll stop and kiss her anytime, anywhere.
“The only way I can thank you for doing this for my grandfather.”
“You being here with me is thanks enough, Daisy.” Looking into her eyes, I see a girl who has lost so much, but is trying to hold on to what is important to her. I hope that when she looks at me, she sees a guy who is going to try and make sure she doesn’t lose anymore.
“Come on,” I say, pulling her forward. “Your grandfather is going to sell our tickets if we don’t hurry up.”
“What took you so long?” John asks when we reach him and his decked out scooter. People are looking at him funny and a few have stopped to take pictures of it. A couple of kids come up to me, asking for my autograph when they see me standing with John, but security is quick to provide us an escort into the park. Once we’re inside, only the fans behind the plate will have access to me. We’re talking under about a hundred people, and I have a feeling they’ll leave us alone.
I make John stop at the t-shirt stand. I know he’s not a fan of the Mets, but he is a fan of baseball and sometimes you need something to commemorate your visit. The great Jackie Robinson played for the Brooklyn Dodgers who the Mets replaced back in the sixties. While Robinson never played here, the park is dedicated to him.
The store is somewhat cramped, but people make way for the scooter. I’m praying he’s not hitting anyone in the back of the heels with that thing, at least I haven’t seen anyone try and beat him up yet. I follow him around while Daisy is off looking at the girly things and pick up whatever he puts down. I know he’s not going to buy anything and that’s why I’m here, to make sure today is the best day he’s had in a long time.
“Well, I don’t see anything I like,” he says with his back facing me. I’m sensing that he’s not exactly telling the truth because everything that he’s picked up and put back down again is all retro league wear – the throw designs – from the earlier years. I’m not a Mets fan, but I do love the old stuff.
“I’ll go grab Daisy and meet you by the entrance,” I tell him, thankful he never turned around to see what I was holding in my hand. Part of me thinks that he already knows, but I’m hoping the element of surprise is in my favor today.
“Are you ready?” I ask Daisy, who is posing with a Mets shirt in front of the mirror. Thankfully it’s generic and only has their logo and not the name of one of their players.
“What are you buying?” she asks, while looking at me through the mirror as her eyes go from mine to the pile in my arm.
“Stuff your grandfather took off the rack and probably wished he could buy. He left the store empty handed.”
“You knew he would,” she says with a smile as she turns around. “Can I get this?”
I hate that she feels that she has to ask and doesn’t feel comfortable enough to put it in the pile I’m already holding. I’ve told her repeatedly that she can have anything she wants, anytime she wants. I know the words are easier for me to say then they are for her to believe or follow through with, but she has to trust that I’m being genuine here.
“You know you can.”
“I thought I’d sleep in it,” she says, stepping closer. She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth and has a wicked glint in her.
“You’re evil.”
“You love it.”
“I do and I lo –” I quickly shut my mouth before those words sneak out. I have no doubt that I’m in love with her, but telling her in the middle of the Mets’ Team Store isn’t exactly how I see myself spilling the beans. I have no doubt it’s going to happen because every time I’m with her, especially when I know I won’t see her for a while, the words are right there threatening to come out.
