Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 56962 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 285(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56962 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 285(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
“It’s just called a swing. Not a bat swing,” I corrected, pursing my lips in amusement.
“Right. I stick my ass out…like this—” He paused to demonstrate, wiggling his butt. “And you’re already hard. You can’t hide it and you can’t fight it, so you drop the bat and push your baseball pants down to release your own bat and balls.”
“Very clever,” I snarked.
“I think so too. It gets better. I can’t see your equipment right away. I can feel it though, and I’m so ready for it. When you pull my equally hot and super tight baseball pants down, I bend over, you push your dick inside me and fuck me like—”
“No lube?”
“Well, it’s a fantasy, so I’m ready for you. No lube or spit required. Although I’m not much for spit in real life. It’s the sanitary thing again, I s’pose. Don’t get me sidetracked.” He waved distractedly and tapped his chin. “Anyway, we’re totally doing it. I’m holding on to the fence, you’re behind me, jerking me off while you fuck me and—”
“Where are the people? The fans, the teams…are they just watching us?”
I was impressed with my rational tone. This was pure torture. I was hard as a rock now with no sign of relief in sight for hours.
“Maybe. Do you get off on that?” he asked casually, like we were talking about our favorite flavor of Pop-Tarts.
“No. And time is ticking. We’ll dissect all your nasty daydreams later when we can actually do something about them. Take a couple of practice swings. Go on.”
“You’re no fun. Can I ask you one more question?”
“Swing first and then you can ask.”
Phoenix scowled but did as I said. “What’s your favorite position?”
“First base.”
“Hmm. I think mine is missionary.” He stepped up to the line and swung the bat like a flyswatter, missing the ball by a mile and grinned. “How was that?”
It was cute. He was cute. But sexy too. If I didn’t think we’d get arrested, I would have happily made his fantasy come true, right then and there. I could picture his fingers wrapped around the wire fence, his jeans around his ankles, my dick in his ass.
I closed my eyes briefly and inclined my head. “Not bad. Try again. With a little heat this time.”
After twelve attempts, he finally made contact with the ball. It went a mere three feet, but he celebrated as if he’d hit a home run. He tossed the bat and the helmet and did a mini victory lap in the confined space. No doubt our neighbors thought he was nuts. He obviously didn’t care, and that might have been part of the charm.
“Do you want me to do it again?”
I snickered. “Sure. Why not?”
He took a few more swings before handing the bat over to “give me a try.” Every time I hit the ball, he cheered and clapped enthusiastically. He was silly and campy, more so than usual. I had a feeling that had a lot to do with being outside his comfort zone. And Christian was right, Phoenix definitely pushed me outside of mine. But he made me feel the opposite of what I would have imagined. I wasn’t worried about what anyone else thought. I just felt lucky to be with him.
When our hour was up, we drove down to the beach and parked on a side street under a giant eucalyptus tree. We trekked through a quiet neighborhood and ended up at a mostly deserted stretch of beach. The blue sky was dotted with fluffy cotton ball clouds. Seagulls squawked loudly as they skimmed the shoreline, foraging for food. The ocean breeze made it feel cooler than it probably was. We sat on a rock facing the water, huddling against each other for warmth, chatting about everything and nothing at all. It was like a version of our evening sofa talks minus sex. Just a couple of guys who’d inexplicably become friends. I could talk to Phoenix about anything…my frustrations with the team, my coach’s unrealistic expectations, my growing irritation with Micah. I even told him about Coach wanting Sky on the team.
“Do you think he’d come back?”
“Honestly, no. We’re too far into the season. But don’t worry about him. He’s not important.”
“I’m not worried,” he assured me. “I’m too stressed about my audition to think about anything else.”
“Don’t be. You’re gonna nail it. You’ve got this, babe,” I said, draping my arm over his shoulder and kissing his cheek.
“Thanks. But what makes you so sure?”
“First of all, you’ve had an amazing coach to help you study your script and secondly—” I tickled him when he rolled his eyes, hugging him closer and adding, “You’re talented and passionate and…you’re the kind of person who can do anything you set your mind to. I believe in you.”
Phoenix pulled away slightly and beamed at me. “That might be the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me. Thank you.”