Authors: Harper Bentley
Jag
I guess it’s safe to say El and I are back,
but that doesn’t mean I’m taking advantage of the situation. Well, I
am
taking advantage in one way, but, damn, it’s so fucking good I can’t keep my hands off her.
I’ll say this much, we
definitely made up for lost time, which is all fine and good by me. I missed her and I’m not letting her get away this time.
I’m
now on the plane to Pittsburgh, excited to be playing again. I won’t pitch the first two games, but I’m starting the third and I’m ready to go all out.
B
ut there for a while, I wasn’t so sure I’d even be on the plane from my meeting earlier with Coach.
He
’d called this morning and told me he needed to see me in his office by two. I knew I was in deep shit for what’d happened with Eddington last night, but I was willing to take my punishment, which I knew would amount to a fine. I was just hoping I wouldn’t be suspended.
“What the fuck is this?” he’d asked as he threw a newspaper onto his desk. I looked at it to see a
n article about the “altercation.”
“Well, Coach,” I began but he cut me off.
“Twenty-four-fucking-mill a year for seven years for you, Jensen. Am I gonna regret taking you?” he yelled.
“No, Coach, you aren’t.”
“What the fuck happened?” His face got so red I was afraid he was going to have a stroke or something.
I bit the inside of my cheek waiting to see if he really wanted to know what happened, and when he sat there glaring at me, I guessed he did, so I told him.
“Gotta be fucking shitting me. All this over some woman?” he spewed.
Now wait just a goddamned moment
. I raised my eyebrow. “She’s not just
some
woman, Coach.” He continues glaring at me and I glare right back. I’m not letting anyone treat her poorly or make her look bad ever again.
He finally capitulates by nodding. “
Got it,” he mutters still looking at me in a not-so-friendly way. “Talked to Shaffer. He said you’re worth the trouble if you’re one-hundred percent. Better hope your arm holds up this week.”
Jesus. Talk about no fucking pressure.
He talked to my pitching coach with the Dodgers. Well, thank God Shaffer backed me up, so now all I’ve got to do is prove I’m ready, which I think I am. “Got it,” I repeat his words.
So here I am on the plane and Eddington’s nowhere in sight. I didn’t read the article because the media gets it wrong every fucking time and people are going to believe what they want, so I don’t even waste my time on that shit. But I still can’t help but wonder why he’s not here.
We land in Pittsburgh and take a bus to the field, and while we’re dressing, I hear Newt talking to Olivarez about what happened. I guess Eddington had drug paraphernalia on his person and in his car and was booked for possession, but Newt says Eddington’s dad is some big shot businessman in South Carolina, so Eddington’ll walk because his dad will hire the best attorneys. I wonder if he’ll pursue pressing charges against me, but whatever. I’d pay the price any day if it meant I got to kick the shit out of him. But I doubt the Cubs will do anything. Most of the time, if the player’s good, they’ll be suspended for a time, maybe have to check into a rehab center if the situation calls for it, then they’re back on the field good to go. Saw it happen with the Dodgers quite a few times, so it’s not as big a stigma as one would think. Anyway, I don’t give a shit one way or the other. I’m here to play ball and as long as he stays the fuck away from El, it’s all good.
We win the first game, lose the second
and now I’m up. I hate to admit it, but I’m a little apprehensive. It’s been almost nine months since I took the mound, and the worrying about how I’ll do is weighing me down a bit. El and I have talked every night, but she makes an extra call today to wish me luck, knowing I’d be nervous.
“Just pitch the shit out of it, baby!”
she says with a giggle which makes me laugh.
“I’ll try my hardest,” I say.
“Sending you some kickass vibes!”
“Thanks, babe. Gonna need ‘em, I think,” I tell her honestly.
“You’ll do fine, Jag, I just know it. I love you,” she says quietly. And that’s all I need.
“Love you too, El. Forever and a day. Watch tonight, okay?”
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world!” she promises.
We talk a bit more then
I have to go because we get to the stadium and are exiting the bus.
As
the team walks to the clubhouse, I hear my name being cheered and I frown, looking around to see who my fans could be. A huge grin forms on my face when I see El, my mom and dad and Ross and Rebecca all with foam fingers chanting my name.
“Baby,” I say into El’s neck as I pick her up and spin her around.
“Surprise!” She giggles when I put her down. Then I bend down and lay a big one on her.
“For luck,” I say with a smirk as I pull away.
“I’ll give you luck anytime you want it,” she says in a daze and I chuckle at how cute she is.
I turn and look at Mom and Dad and can’t help but snort. Foam finge
rs just don’t mix well with my folks, but I think it’s great that they’re here, and I tell them so, and Mom gives me a huge hug. Ross tells me he borrowed some of my Frequent Flier Miles to fly everyone out, which makes me laugh.
“Gotta do what you gotta do,” I tell him, clapping him on the shoulder as we both grin at each other.
I’m so shocked that they’re all here that I just keep grinning and shaking my head. “Thanks for coming,” I tell them for possibly the thirtieth time.
“Wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” Dad says and waves his foam finger around
with a silly grin on his face, which cracks me up. Royce Jensen, hardcore rocker with a foam finger isn’t something you see every day.
“
Well, gotta get suited out,” I tell them and turn to El, taking her face in my hands. “Thank you, baby,” I say as I kiss her again before heading into the clubhouse.
Having El back makes everything so much better. I know she was the one who rounded everyone up to come to the game,
knowing I needed the support, and I feel so lucky at that moment to have her that my heart wants to burst. “Luckiest son of a bitch ever,” I mumble to myself as I enter the clubhouse.
Varner, or “V,” is my catcher tonight
and he’s a pretty good guy. We’ve talked a little and I’ve learned that he’s my age but married with two sons. Before my first pitch, he makes sure to walk to the mound and encourage me.
“Knock the fuck out of ‘em, Jensen,”
he says with a grin and hands me the ball. He turns to go back to home plate but stops and looks back at me. “And if you start hurting, you’d better fucking let someone know.” Then he winks at me, spits and heads to home plate to put his mask on.
I take a deep breath and get my game face on hoping I can do this when the first batter steps up. V calls for my fastball and I wind up and let it go. A first-pitch strike is pretty fucking important, especially on the initial pitch of the game, and I nail it. The batter draws nothing but air on his swing, and I’m so fucking elated I yell out a “Yeah!” After that show of emotion, I gain my composure, ready to strike every last one of them out, and that’s what I do until the top of the seventh when Coach sends in the relief. But I’m good with that. For my first time out, I did pretty well, striking out fifteen and allowing only three singles. Not bad. We end up winning which is the icing on the cake.
After the game,
Dad has gotten us reservations at a restaurant that’s in a church which is supposed to have amazing beer, so we all go there to eat, and sitting around the table, everyone gives me huge congratulations. I feel like my face is going to split in two with all the smiling I’m doing. The amount of beer we guys drink should be considered illegal, but we’re celebrating and I don’t have to pitch again for another five days, so I’m all in. When we’re finished, I say goodbye to Mom, Dad, Ross and Rebecca who are going back to the airport to catch their flight out and I honestly can’t thank them enough for coming, telling them it means a lot that they came to support me. When they’re gone, El and I get a cab back to my hotel room and I call Coach to let him know that I’ll fly to Atlanta on my own tomorrow. Ross already booked flights for El and me when he was cashing in my miles, so we’re all set, and now I get to spend time with my girl.
“Fuck yeah,” I groan as El sucks my
cock into her mouth.
On the way to my hotel room, she’d been pretty feisty in the cab, her hand sneaking over to
rub against my crotch on the way there as the cabbie asked me about the game. She’d giggled when there was a hitch of surprise in my voice when I answered him but she kept her hand there, kneading me, making me hard. We’d made out in the elevator on the way up, and the minute we got in my room, she’d pushed the door closed, dropped to her knees, unbuttoned my jeans and reached in to grab my shaft. And now here we are.
Wrapping my hands in her hair, I lean my head against the door, closing my eyes as I feel her tak
ing me inside that fabulously talented mouth of hers. Jesus, it feels fantastic. But I need to be inside her, so I bend and pull her up, kiss her hard then lead her into the room where I undress her then myself and take her down onto the bed with me.
“Beautiful,” I say as I look dow
n at her naked body under mine. She’s perfect, long, shapely legs, sexy rounded hips, a small trim waist and a flat stomach that leads up to her gorgeous breasts that are rounded naturally. Damn. I look at her face, the high cheekbones, full lips, the smattering of cute freckles over her straight nose, her delicate yet strong jaw and her sexy, green eyes that could seduce you with one look and cut you into pieces with the next. Her thick, auburn hair is splayed over the pillow like a halo surrounding her and I can’t tear my eyes away.
“What?” she asks as I continue looking down at her, all of her.
“You’re stunning,” I say as I come down to touch my lips to hers, then continue moving them down over her delicate collarbone, kissing, sucking, licking, as I make my way to her breasts taking a nipple into my mouth and pulling on it hard which makes her arch up off the bed with a gasp.
I
do the same to her other breast then continue my journey down, nipping her hipbones with my teeth then on lower to press sweet kisses to the insides of her thighs making her moan in anticipation as her hands at her sides clutch the bedspread.
“Gonna eat you and make you come for me twice, El,” I tell her and get another moan. “Then I’m gonna fuck you from behind and make you come again.”
“Jag…” she breathes out, her hands moving in now to clutch onto my hair.
And I do just as I promised.
We take a cab to the airport the next day,
and upon entering there’s a crowd of media waiting for me, cameras flashing and microphones being shoved in my face. How they knew I’d be there, I have no idea, and now they start questioning me about last night’s game. El tries to get away, but I tighten my hand around hers, keeping her there with me. She looks up at me, her face gone pale, and I wink down at her letting her know it’ll be okay.
“How’d the arm feel
last night, Jag?” a guy I recognize from
Sports Illustrated
asks.
“It felt great, Rick,” I respond
with a nod.
“Kennemond was on a six-game hitting streak and you busted that. Anything to say, Jag?” Carla Russell from a local station in Chicago asks.
I grin then shrug. “Just doing my job.” There are several chuckles from the crowd.
Everything goes great until some guy I don’t recognize pipes up, “So are you dating Ariana Evans now or Eva Coutu? Is Alessandra Alvarez still in the picture?”
I scowl at him and grasp El’s hand tighter when I feel her body tense and she tries moving away. “Well…” I look at him waiting for him to tell me who the hell he is.
“Joshua Reid from
TMZ
,” he identifies himself.
Holy shit.
TMZ
? They’re fucking brutal. I hear El suck in a breath when she hears him and I wrap my arm around her shoulders.
“Well,
Josh
,” I clip out because this shit’s personal, but I feel I’ve got to protect El, “as you can see, I’m with Ellen Love.”
He nods as he writes in his little notebook. “Ellen Love. She someone we’d know?” he asks condescendingly.
“Only if you’re lucky,” I fire back. Prick.
And now several questions come at me
all at once. Fuck.
“Ellen Love? I thought she was with Austin Eddington?”
someone asks.
“What happened to Ariana? You were engaged, right?”
“You and Eva were spotted coming out of your condo just last week. Did you break up?”
And I’ve had enough. I hold up a hand to shut them all up and when they’re quiet I tell them, “Look. I’ve never been with any of those women you’
ve mentioned.”