The Shortstop (12 page)

“No. Things are falling into place. It makes sense that the next thing should be our wedding.”

“A few minutes ago you felt bad adding things to my to-do list,” she teases. She stares at my smirking lips for a beat before meeting my gaze. “Once the season is over, we’ll get married.”

“Sounds like a plan, Mrs. Lawson,” I say with a nod. Closing the distance between us, I slant my mouth over hers, my tongue immediately searching. She moans, and I’m instantly hard for her. It’s been a long day, but there’s only one way to end it…one perfect way.

“Time for bed,” I say right before lifting her off the couch. Her hands link around my neck, and she smiles seductively.

Within sixty seconds, I have her naked on the bed. I move to stand at the foot, drinking her in from head to toe. Each article of clothing I remove causes her breathing to alter. Once I’m naked, I slowly stroke my cock and ask, “Where should I begin?”

“Wherever you want. It’s your day, shortstop.”

Even though her legs remain closed, the subtle movements she makes clue me in to her arousal. “Open your legs,” I demand. She blushes as my eyes scan every inch of her, ending on her pussy. “Touch yourself, Annie.” She bites her lip nervously, but obeys by slipping her hand down her body toward her pussy. It’s taken years for her to accept that this is a major turn-on for me. My strokes become faster every time she moves a finger over her clit.

The pressure in my balls forces me to lunge on the bed, landing with my mouth on her smooth skin. The instant my lips touch her, she bucks and groans from the impact. Using my tongue to part her folds, I slowly slip a finger inside of her and she clenches around me. When I add another, her hips begin to move against my hand and mouth. The list of things I love about her is long, but having her come at my hand and my mouth is most definitely in my top three.

Also at the top of my list is sinking into her while she’s still trembling from her orgasm. The moment I slide in to the hilt, she spasms around me so forcibly it feels like a fist wrapping around my cock. For a few seconds, I remain completely still, relishing in her warmth. The sensation is indescribable and addicting.

She automatically closes her eyes once I begin to move.

“Look at me,” I demand. Lazily, she opens her gorgeous blue eyes while a slow smile spreads across her lips. Her spectacular smile can knock the wind from my lungs, bring me to my knees, and make me want nothing more than to stare at her forever. Looking at her is addicting… everything about her is addicting.

She caresses my face as I’m chasing my orgasm. It comes too quickly and is over even quicker.

When I still, she grabs my ass to push me deeper inside of her. “You’re coming again?” I ask when I see the telltale signs of her arousal building.

“Yes,” she gasps, “Don’t stop.”

Flipping us, I take both her hands in mine and watch in awe as my girl rides me shamelessly, reminding me of yet another thing at the top of my list.

Annie

Earlier today, Quint and I set out for a day of shopping and getting supplies that he needs for his start tomorrow. My heart jumped in my chest when we exited the hotel lobby smack into mayhem. At first we ignored them, thinking a celebrity must be staying at the same hotel. Not until every lens pointed toward us did I realize it was my fiancé they were interested in. Somehow, the media found out where we’re staying. There were paparazzi waiting outside, cameras poised and ready to capture the perfect shot.

Quint was just as surprised as I was, if not more. While clutching my hand, he dragged me to a waiting cab and practically pushed me in. Quickly barking a street location at the cabby, he stared out the window, shaking his head at the scene we were leaving behind.

“
What the fuck
?” he said once we pulled away. He studied me for a few minutes, frowning before asking, “
Are you okay
?”

I felt sick. Exposed. Vulnerable.

“
Yeah, I’m fine
,” I lied.

He lifted my hand that he still held in his. “
You’re shaking and you’re pale
.”

“
I wasn’t prepared for that. They caught me off guard
.”

“
I know
.” Gently, he placed a kiss on my knuckles. “
Me, too
.”

And that’s how we were exposed to the tornado he was warned about. I don’t think he truly understood the scope of their words. How stupid and naïve were we to think that we’d be eased into it. Those people were out for blood, Quint’s blood. Half the questions shouted out were directed at him, the other half at me.

Random thoughts plagued me for the rest of the day. Most were negative, questioning how anyone could live like this. Concern then dominated as I feared how all this would affect Quint. I also couldn’t help but wonder if Annie Weber was gone. Overnight, I became Quint Lawson’s fiancée. New York’s hottest catch, and the girl he’s planning to marry.

The fun day we had planned turned sour pretty quickly. People were recognizing him left and right. Of course they would, his face has been plastered on every newspaper and news channel for the past twenty-four hours. We thought we’d stroll the city streets, hand in hand, possibly stopping at an outdoor café to have lunch. Instead, we ducked in and out of stores while asking the cab to wait for us at each location. Quint bought us each a hat in an attempt to sneak back inconspicuously. It didn’t work.

It’s less than twenty-four hours in, and we’re already prisoners of his rising fame.

We’re now hiding in our room. He’s been on the phone with his dad and agent. I’ve been spending the time on my laptop searching for apartments. My list of required amenities is long—doorman, Upper East Side, and an underground, gated garage are just some of the musts that Quint is suddenly insisting on. This isn’t going to be easy. The city costs a fortune to live in. I have no idea what I’m doing.

I reached out to Ava Contreras, who’s new to the team as well. Her husband Jeff plays right field. They recently purchased an apartment, and she said her real estate agent was a godsend.

While Quint practices tomorrow, I’ll be meeting with Edith to get started on apartment hunting. I’m not sure how much we can accomplish in one day. Our families, Daphne, and Billy arrive tomorrow for his debut. They’re staying for a few days to help us out. I’m not usually one to accept help, but this time I have no choice. I have a big-ass list of things written out that needs to get done. I now understand why Quint was so concerned that he was dumping it all on me. My eyes scan the notepad sitting before me. I wish I could blink and have it all be done. I can’t help but sigh, which I know he heard when his eyes focus on my face. Seconds later he ends the call and crosses the room to sit beside me.

Studying me with narrowed eyes, he says, “Spill.” I could never hide my true feelings from him. He knows instantly if something is bothering me.

“These apartments are a fortune, Quint. We should rent a place for now, to see if we like it enough to buy it at a later date.”

“We’re in New York, babe, of course, they’re a fortune.” He turns the laptop so he can see what I’ve been staring at. Image after image flips on the screen as he scrolls through the listings I opened. Stopping, he points. “This one is nice. Two bedrooms, off 2nd Avenue, it seems to have everything we want.”

“You want.”

Slowly, he turns his head to face me. “It’s important, for our safety. Especially when I travel. I want to know you’re safe.”

“For that price, it should come with our own personal armed guard.”

“Is that something we can arrange?” he teases. “Ooh, and a masseuse? I could use a rubdown every night when I get home.”

“Yeah, a male one.” I laugh at the look of disgust on his face. “Seriously, Q, it’s a lot of goddamn money.” I know he just signed a multimillion-dollar contract, but we’re just starting. Feelings of being unworthy start to slink back into my subconscious. I’m not financially contributing to our marriage in any way. I have a whopping twelve thousand dollars in the bank, enough to pay for one month’s rent. “Besides, what the hell do we know about real estate?”

“That’s what Edith is for…and our parents.” He takes my hand and looks deep into my eyes. “It’s just an apartment. The most important part is being together and making it our home. I can’t put a price tag on that. I’ll spend every dime to make our home perfect.”

I feel bad giving him a hard time. “Okay. We’ll figure it out.”

“We will. Hey, my agent suggested a few luxury buildings right over the bridge that would work. It’s minutes from the city and the stadium.”

“Really?” The thought of moving to something more affordable in Jersey makes me feel better, plus maybe the paparazzi don’t cross over the GW Bridge. “It makes sense to weigh all our options,” I admit. “I’ll mention it to Edith.”

“Good. So, what else is bothering you?” He tucks a stray hair behind my ear. “Still shaken up?”

“A little, but I’m fine. Now that I know they’re there, it won’t be as scary.” Turning to face him, I frown before adding, “I am worried about you.”

“The hype will die down once I start playing. They’ll get bored and move on. It’s what happens when new talent comes to town, especially to this town.”

“Promise me you’ll constantly be on alert. You often get lost in your own La-La Land.”

He laughs at my analogy. “The only La-La Land I get lost in is the land of Annie Weber…or maybe on a baseball diamond. But I promise to be more alert.”

“Thank you.” Grabbing his face, I pull him in for a hard kiss. “So, I guess we should stay in?”

“No,” he responds emphatically. “We’re not staying in. We’re sticking to the plan.”

Quint and I have dinner reservations and tickets to see
Wicked
. I’ve been dying to see that show. After our morning, I thought the obvious choice would be to stay here tonight.

“You have a big day tomorrow, and I don’t want you stressing. We can order dinner in, and I could find some ways to relax you,” I offer as a substitute.

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what?” Feigning ignorance, I lean up to nibble his ear. The moan he releases spurs me on. He thinks he’s the master at distracting me when, in fact, it’s the other way around. Just a few licks on his ear, neck, or even jaw and he’s like a baby distracted by a shiny new toy. Trailing my lips down the side of his neck proves my point.

With a firm flip, I’m suddenly beneath him on the couch. He pushes himself along the seam of my shorts. Back and forth, back and forth, until I come very close to releasing my own moan. Okay, so maybe we both have mad distracting skills. When he adds lips to the equation, running them along my collarbone, my moan escapes.

“Ah, you see, I too can play this game.”

“Fine. I call it a tie. Now what, shortstop?”

While staring into my eyes, he says, “Now, I’ll fuck you, then we’ll shower, dress, and proceed with our plans. Later.” He bows his head to bite down on my erect nipple and rotates his hips seductively before continuing. “Later, we’ll finish what I’m about to start now. Any arguments?”

“None from me.”

“I’m coming,” I call out for the second time. Whoever is at my door keeps pounding. Peering through the peephole, I see a distorted Daphne still knocking to the tune of
Yankee Doodle Dandy
. “Oh my God, you’re so annoying.” The minute I have the door unlocked, she barrels through. “What are you doing here? I thought you weren’t getting here until game time.”

“Your boyfriend called and asked us to come earlier. So, here I am to save the day.”

“Save what day?”

“Your day,” she says, like it’s obvious.

“Where’s Billy?”

“Quint got him in to batting practice. He’s happy as a pig in shit. It’s you and me. Here’s the plan. We’re going to get manicures and pedicures and then we’re going shopping at Bloomies and…”

“I can’t,” I interrupt her tirade.

“Bitch, yes, you can.”

“I’m apartment hunting with the Realtor today…all day.”

Ignoring me, she walks to the closet and starts rummaging through my clothes. “Ugh, this is what you brought with you? It was OK to wear these to an IronBirds game,” she quips while holding up my favorite pair of cutoff shorts, “but not acceptable for Yankee Stadium. You’ll probably be on TV. It’s a good thing I’m here.”

“Oh my God, Daphne!” I call out, hands on hips and anger bubbling. “Get out of my closet. I can’t play with you today.”

The look she gifts me with makes it hard for me to keep a straight face. “Your shortstop called
me
. What part don’t you get? He canceled the Realtor until next week. He wants you relaxing, having fun, and enjoying this moment. So, he called in the master of fun. Now shut it, get dressed, and quit holding up our plans.”

Dismissing me, she resumes critiquing my wardrobe. Lucky for her, my phone beeping with an incoming text stops me from killing her.

Don’t be mad

I quickly type back,
Too Late

I’ll make it up to you. I promise

This one is gonna cost you

Well it’s a good thing I’ve just come in to some serious $$$

“Quit grinning like a fool and get dressed,” she says with mock contempt.

There isn’t a chance in hell I’ll win this argument. With a forced smile, I snatch the shorts and shirt she decided I should wear and head into the bathroom.

I can’t believe he did this. This is so like him. Suddenly the stress and anxiety I was feeling are lifted. Quint’s habits of procrastinating aren’t always the smartest methods. There have been many times I wouldn’t allow it, like during finals. But today, it’s just what the doctor ordered.

Daphne sits on my bed, flipping through one of the newspapers I had piled high on the coffee table.

“Crap, he’s really out there, huh?”

“Yeah, he really is.” The reporters who camped out downstairs come to my mind. We snuck out the back door, with the concierge’s help. When Quint left earlier, he called me from the cab to tell me there weren’t as many as yesterday. Hopefully, he’s right and soon they’ll move on to the next headline. “Were photographers still downstairs when you came in?”

“No, I didn’t notice anyone.”

“Thank God. Yesterday was scary.” I proceed to tell her what we experienced, and she sits stunned at my rundown.

“Holy shit. Annie, are you okay with all this?”

Avoiding eye contact, I pretend to finish getting ready before I answer. If she were to look into my eyes, she’d know that I’m terrified. “Yeah, I’m fine. Quint said they’d get bored soon.” Grabbing my bag, I point to the door. “Let’s have fun,” I say, changing the subject.

Daphne bites and fills me in on everything I missed in her life these past few days. Her constant chatter is the perfect distraction. She’d never know that my heart is pounding frantically as we take the elevator down to the lobby. Or with every step we get closer to the lobby doors, I find it harder and harder to breathe normally. She steps out onto the street first. “Do you want to walk? It’s nice out.”

I look around nonchalantly, relaxing a bit when I don’t see any photographers lurking. “Um, let’s cab it. It’s too hot out,” I give a lame excuse. I still feel very vulnerable, and I haven’t found my media sea legs yet.