Home Run Baby: A Sports Romance (14 page)

I look at him and he smirks. “Hunter—”

“Shh…” His eyes scan the bus as his hidden fingers unbutton me.

I bite my lip, trapped in my seat by his strong left hand. I dig my nails into the armrests, trying not to react as his touch slides into my underwear.

He cradles my clit between two fingers and moves his hand with a smooth, circular rub.

I bite my tongue as it twitches to moan.

“Shh,”
he warns again, silently toying with me with almost surgical precision.

Pleasure fires up my spine, awakening all of my senses. Suddenly, every shift of feet or distant cough sounds like a trumpet in my ears. I notice every movement, every flit of driver’s eyes in the rearview mirror. Everything is heightened to detect any threat that could make him stop touching me.

My thighs shake and he smiles, recognizing all my telltale signs. Fear and passion blend together, working fast, and I can’t keep up with it.

My jaw drops, seconds away from moaning and Hunter claps his other hand over my mouth. He doesn’t stop. He watches me suffer with sinister eyes and refuses to let my clit rest as it aches for release.

I breathe hard against his palm with white knuckles and curling toes. Each firm rub teases me and owns me in ways only he could.

Climax swallows me whole and I grip his moving hand to stop him before I scream. I hold it all inside and it trembles my body, traveling from my head to my ankles and back again before finally settling in my gut. My body quakes in my seat, gently buzzing as Hunter lowers his hand from my mouth and forces another hard kiss on my lips.

I curse our location. Any other place and I’d mount him in seconds. I’d ride him until his knees buckled and I’d scream his name for him but I can’t do that here.

Hunter looks forward and lays his hand on his own lap, smirking quietly to himself in satisfaction.

Chapter 17

Hunter

If I had to pick a favorite sound, it’d be the crack of a bat when I hit a home run.

I can always tell the moment the ball strikes the bat that it’s going all the way. There’s a subtle difference to the sound that you can’t really detect unless you’re holding onto the bat with your own hands, feeling the vibrations rumble through your fingers.

Until now, it was the roar of the crowd and the shouts from the team cheering me on that pushed me towards the next one.

Now, I feel like I only make that home run to hear the click of her camera.

That sounds narcissistic — and there isn’t an athlete alive that isn’t just a
little
bit — but it’s not the rush of seeing myself in photos that drives me. It’s the fact that it’s
her
eyes behind the lens.
Daisy is watching.
She’s admiring me and thinking about me and that just gives me an extra rush that I’ve never felt before.

I listen for the crack of the bat because later on, after the stadium has cleared out and the scoreboard has been reset, I’ll ride back to my motel room and she’ll be there with an ice pack to cool me down with and a bed to warm me back up in.

That’s where I’ll hear her voice in all its different forms.

She’ll talk — a lot — because that’s what Daisy does; about the article or her sister or the baby and all the “fun stuff” it’s doing to her body (her words, not mine).

She’ll laugh — a lot — because that’s what I make Daisy do when the conversation gets a little too real.

She’ll moan —
a lot
— because even the most serious of conversations or the most exhausting of road trips can’t stop us from blissfully getting lost in each other for a little while almost every night.

And sometimes in the morning.

I rest my palms on the shower walls, breathing hard to combat the growing steam hovering around me. Taking a piping hot shower isn’t normally my go-to wake-up call at the beginning of August but having a beautiful woman’s lips wrapped around my cock isn’t either.

Especially not one that’s carrying my child.

I gaze down at her little, blue eyes staring back up at me from her place on her knees.
Daisy, Jenny,
whatever. I bite my tongue instead of calling her name, far too turned on by her wicked mouth to think straight.

Daisy rolls her tongue around the tip before bobbing it even deeper towards her throat and a groan escapes me.

“Fuck,”
I say, laughing softly as she throats me a little deeper.

She chuckles and the vibrations rattle my shaft, firing even more blood towards it, killing my brain and I try not to pass out.

“Ohhh, Hunter? You in there?”

I freeze, hearing that southern drawl from the other side of the shower curtain. Daisy’s eyes grow wide as she pulls my disappointed cock from her mouth.

“Is that…?” she whispers.

I clear my throat and gesture for Daisy to keep her head down.
“Trisha?”

“Good morning, honey.”

I grab the side of the creme-colored curtain and poke my wet head through it to find her leaning against the bathroom doorway. “Hey…” I say, holding the curtain tightly closed. “How did you get in here?”

She smirks. “You left your door unlocked.”

“I did?”

Daisy flicks my groin. Hard.

I flinch. “Well… I, uh… I’m in the middle of a shower here, so—”

“I won’t keep you, Hunter,” she says, her eyes shifting downward, hoping I’ll slip up and she’ll catch a quick glance. “I just wanted to ask you something before the game today.”

I wait, feeling the hard water strike my back, but she stays quiet. “And that is?”

“Your pal, Devin,” she begins, pushing off the door and taking a few steps closer, “what’s his story?”

“I don’t—” Daisy’s mouth envelopes me again and I laugh, submerged in that warm paradise between her lips. “What do you mean?”

“He’s from New Jersey, right?”

I nod, trying hard not to focus on each lap of Daisy’s tongue along my shaft. “Yeah, I think.”

“Any idea what he does during the off-season?”

“I, uh—” I grit my teeth at the sudden, fierce suction.

“Does he talk about a girlfriend back home?” she asks. “Any
ties
to speak of?”

I wrap my fingers around Daisy’s hair. “You’d have to ask him, Trisha.”

She winces. “I guess I will, then.” Her eyes drop again, taking a long look at my exposed arm. “Anyway, I’ll see you at the game.”

“Okay. Bye, Trisha.”

I wait with patient, steady breaths, listening closely for the door to latch closed behind her. When it finally does, I whip my head back into the shower and stare down at Daisy’s wide grin.

“You’re a bad girl,” I scold her.

Her nose curls upward as she laughs at me. “A little.”

I bend down and pick her up off the floor.
“A very bad girl.”

She cackles as I pin her to the wall and she wraps her legs around my waist. “Don’t pretend like you don’t love it.”

“Not as much as I’ll love
this
.”

I grind into her, feeling her wet pussy stretch for me and she digs her claws into my back. She so slick, so warm, my brain turns to dust again and all I can do it pound her over and over again in my arms.

She purrs in my ears, cheering me on louder with each deep thrust. “You going to hit a home run for me today?”

“Yes.”

“You going to hit
two
for me?”

I chuckle, feeling my loins tighten and throb. “How about I hit
three
?”

“Make it
four
.” She bites into my earlobe. “And make sure you get a double play, too.”

“A double play?”
I gawk at her. “I can’t promise that.”

“Oh, come on,” she teases between rapid breaths. “You can do it — especially after this. Sex is totally a performance enhancer.”

I laugh as the pressure builds. “That’s a myth.”

“Oh, I’ve seen it.”

“With
who
?”

She bites her lip, refusing to say. “Get a double play and I’ll come all over this big dick.”

“You will anyway.”

I grind her deeper and harder, watching the stars in her eyes as her body does what I want it to. I feel that muscle surging inside of her, twitching wild with orgasm. My eyes fall to her little body. It’s changed — not a lot — but I’ve seen enough of her the past few weeks to notice the small details as this baby takes over her body.

One last thrust is all it takes. I come deep inside of her, not afraid to stay in as my seed fills her. It’s freeing and crazy and absolutely sexy, especially how she quivers with delight as I do it, almost as if the very feeling of it gives her another light climax.

I kiss her hard, pulling her bottom lip between my teeth as I listen to those soft moans on her breath. She releases her legs and I slide back from the wall to let her down.

“Four home runs
and
a double play?” I ask again.

“Yep.”

I sigh. “You’re a tough lady to satisfy, you know that?”

“What can I say?” She licks her playful lips. “I like
impressive
men.”

“Being
Home Run Hunter
isn’t enough?”

She shrugs, refusing to answer.

***

“Hunter,
I gotta know
…” Trisha glances at me over her sunglasses, “how the hell are you able to crack so many home runs
every game
?”

I laugh and shake my head, stealing one quick glance at Daisy as I stretch my arm over my chest. “Well, it’s not easy, I’ll tell you that much.”

Daisy takes a few steps back and raises the camera to get a shot of the team; all of us piled into the dugout and pumping ourselves up for the upcoming game. She pretends not to listen to us but I see that subtle twitch of her ear as she waits for my answers to Trisha’s questions.

“I probably shouldn’t be telling you this, Hunter,” Trisha says, sliding her notepad into her back pocket, “but there are some awfully important people from the majors in the crowd today.”

I pause. “Really?”

She scans the stadium with a smile. “If you’ve got some trick up your sleeve, today would be the day to show it off.”

Daisy takes a photo of me and my eyes flick to her as she studies the picture on the viewfinder.

I’m a little curious myself what my face looks like right now. Playing in the minor leagues is a constant audition in the first place. Any game, right down to the play, can mean the difference between trading you or keeping you to a team manager. If the right people see the right things, that trade could be a step up from Double-A to Triple-A or, even better, getting your name on the 40-man roster to play in the majors.

I take a breath to calm my nerves. I’ve had adrenaline pumping through me since that extra-long shower this morning. Maybe Daisy was right about that performance enhancer.

Daisy reaches for her phone in her pocket and turns away as she holds it to her ear. Her voice carries on the summer breeze, just barely reaching me over the growing hum of the crowd.

Trisha rolls her eyes. “I swear, that girl can’t focus for more than ten minutes.”

“She’s doing a great job,” I argue. “Probably just her sister.”

She gives an indifferent nod as she yanks her notepad out again. “So—”

“Sorry, Trisha, I gotta boot ya from the dugout,” Coach Carl says. “Game’s starting.”

The team groans, obviously disappointed that they’re losing their favorite cheerleader.

“It’s okay, boys,” she says, licking her lips. “I’ll see you after the game.”

She blows us a kiss before climbing up the stairs to find her seat.

I sit down on the bench and take a deep, calming breath as I stare out across the open diamond ahead. You make every game count in the minors. Every play. Every hit. My ears twitch, somehow detecting Daisy’s voice somewhere nearby and I can’t help but turn around and look for her.

“You’re in love with her.”

I furrow my brow at Devin sitting on the bench beside me. “Trisha?”

“Do I look like I’m talking about Trisha?” he asks, tilting his head.
“Daisy.
I’m talking about
Daisy.”

“No, I’m not in love with her,” I say. “I’m
in
lust
, maybe…”

“What’s the difference?”

“It’s not every day a beautiful woman lets me have
constant, unprotected sex
with her.”

He chuckles. “Sounds like love to me.”

“She’s like a cat in heat,” I explain, “and the only thing that will satisfy her is my dick.”

“Are you complaining?”

“Nope.”

“So, what’s not to love?”

“Nothing. She’s smart but not snooty about it. She’s funny but doesn’t try to be. She loves baseball — probably knows more about it than
I
do.”

“Then, what’s wrong?”

I force a shrug. “I don’t know. I just haven’t thought much about it. I’m taking my time.”

“Well, you should probably start calling it something because I guarantee you
she
has.”