Baseball Star Edition (The Seduction Game, #2)

BOOK: Baseball Star Edition (The Seduction Game, #2)
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The Seduction Game

 

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Baseball Star Edition

 

***

 

By: Nicole Jennings

Copyright 2014 Nicole Jennings

 

 

 

 

Baseball Star Edition

 

Reconnaissance is a major part of the game and so is
availability. Sarah hauled me around California chasing her rock star, and now
it’s my turn to drag her around town.

I will not rest until I have woken up next to a Major
League Baseball player.

“I still don’t see why we can’t do this in
California,” Sarah complains for the fifth time today.

“It’s all about opportunities, I don’t see a way to
put myself in front of him any other way, do you?”

“No, not without heaps of luck. You know I’m your
wing-girl, I just loath road trips.” She grumbles, slouching down in the
passenger seat.

The wind rushes over me in the convertible, whipping
my hair around. It makes me feel carefree. I wish I could stand with my arms
spread wide, and fly. “It’s a beautiful day, just enjoy it.”

“It’s Arizona, what’s there to enjoy in Arizona?” She
asks in mock derision.

“Baseball players?” I suggest.


Ehh
, the other single men
on the team are not my type. I’m here strictly in a supportive role this
time.”
 

The drive to Scottsdale was rather nice despite
Sarah’s unwillingness to play the game this trip. Scenery along the journey was
very romantic, in a dusty, rugged way. Barren mountains loomed in the distance
like sand spilled from an hourglass. Appearing as if a slight breeze would
scatter them to the wind, but they had withstood the test of time for ages.

This year, my favorite up and coming baseball star
was playing at the Spring Training Annual Poker Classic charity event.

Sarah had protested vehemently about going until I
told her she would get to wear her designer summer dress she’d just bought.

My MP3 player was on random and we were jamming out
to tunes. Although Sarah had insisted on removing her Rock Star’s music, it was
still a decent mix.

She’s been acting weird ever since she accomplished
her goal with him and I wish she would just tell me why, but every time I
broached the subject she brushed it off. My only conclusion, the sex must not
have been that good. Poor girl.

“So why him? Why a pitcher?” Sarah asks while a predominantly
slow song plays.

“Have you seen the way he pitches? My God, his arms
are like Thor’s Hammer. I want to feel the strength of those arms, as I rake my
nails down his back.”

She laughs, “
It
is your work in life that is the ultimate seduction.
Or so says Mr. Pablo
Picasso, I wonder what Thor’s little hammer is like.”

“I’ll tell you after this weekend.” Confidence is a
key component to the seduction of powerful men. Even if your insides are tied
in knots, you have to appear collected. It’s good all-around practice to exude
confidence anyway.

“I still can’t believe you’re trying to do this all
in one weekend.”

“Well I have two shots, the pre-season baseball game,
and the tournament. If the baseball game doesn’t give me the opportunity, all I
have to do is advance far enough at the poker game to get to a round at his
table. I think I can manage that,” I’m a decent poker player. Probably not good
enough to win, but it’s for charity, and it’d be fun.

“You kick my ass,”

“You have a terrible poker face,” I reminded her.

“I hope his poke her face is better.” She waggles her
eyebrows at me.

I laugh at the ridiculousness of her joke. “I’m sure
it will be, have you seen his concentration stare when he’s pitching? It turns
me on just thinking about it. His eyes are so intense; I can just imagine staring
into those eyes, begging for him to toss me around. I hope he’s rough. I like
it rough.”

Sarah rolls her eyes at me. “Yeah we all know, make
him be rough. Oh, I love this song,” she turns up the music and begins to sing
at the top of her lungs, leaving me to revel in images of his stare. I hope I
don’t crash the car before we get there.

After we’ve checked into the hotel, the same one the
poker charity event will be held at tomorrow night, we get ready for the game.
I slip into some tight jeans and a bright blue jersey of a retired player, left
open with a tank top underneath.

We purchase tickets to the lower deck close to the ball
pen.

Close enough for me to watch as my target pitcher
warms up. His forearms are ropey with muscles that bulge every time he lets the
ball fly and pivots on his feet. I’m close enough to hear him grunt when he
lets it go, and I inhale sharply. He’s kept in shape during the
off season
, that’s for sure. In fact I’m pretty sure he’s
bulked up even more.

Last year was his debut year in the Major Leagues and
he was phenomenal, winning rookie of the year. He caught my eye when he started
closing for the team, and winning games.

Sarah laughs and shouts encouragement for the guy
who’s currently up to bat.

My pitcher looks up and smiles at me, in response I
purse my lips and nod at him. “Well played, Sarah.” I say in a hushed tone.

“Did you eye fuck him?” She gives me a sly, sideways
smile, never taking her eyes off of the field. “Go, go. Yes a double, you
rock!” she shouts encouragement to the batter and pounds on the railing.

 

***

 

“Go get ‘
em
!” I hear someone
shout over the dull roar of the crowd, when I step onto the field. I’m second
to pitch and I’m feeling good. We are down two to one, but that’s not bad. I’m
confident I can bring us back.

The afternoon heat feels good on my face; it intensifies
the smell of fresh cut grass in the desert. After testing my footing on the
mound, and a quick glance behind me, I focus on the mountaintop in the distance.
Test the feel of the smooth ball in my hands and adjust the stitching between
my fingers for a curve ball. A quick inhale and I turn and let the ball fly.

“Strike one!” The ump shouts. Good man. Another
shriek from the stands makes me glance over.

I recognize the beacon of red hair as my Asian
beauty’s friend, and glanced to her right where the exotic beauty sits. Her
friend whispers in her ear, her hand rests on the Asian’s leg as she laughs at
whatever her friend is saying. If I were that hand, I’d slide up her thigh to
the promise land.

My buddy made a signal, but I missed it.
Shit, what was that
? Shaking my head, he
asked for a slider and I agree. I have to get my mind back in the game.

When I wind up, I can feel that my stance is off. The
ball slips from my fingers and right into the swinging back. A thwack and it
flies over my head and into centerfield.

The raven temptress shakes her head in dissatisfaction
causing my brow to furrow. My new goal is to impress her during this game.

She was right there in my line of sight, and I had to
keep thinking about my mom to keep from getting a boner. Not even concentrating
on the baseball in my hand helped. The whole time, I’d try not to look but her
firecracker of a friend kept shouting, embarrassing her, and drawing my
attention their way. She was so cute when her face flushed from embarrassment.
Damn
.

I gave up two runs in three innings before my manager
called me out. Pathetic show, and when I walked off the field defeated, my girl
was gone.

Five to one was the final score, what a fucking atrocity
of a
game,
I should’ve been so much better. I couldn’t
help it though. When I looked up into the stands and saw that exotic Asian
beauty, I lost all concentration.

The off-season makes you complacent to a normal
everyday life, and now that I’ve been stuck training for the past month, with nothing
but a house full of guys, I was horny.
 

“Don’t look so down, it’s the pre-season, and
everyone has
their
off days.” My buddy, John, slaps me
on the back. He’s a damn good first baseman, with an even better batting
average.

“I just need to get out and unwind, let’s go get a
drink.” Maybe my mystery girl with raven hair will be out.

“No can do man, you know I’m in the program.”

“Fine,” I grumble as Jose approaches. “Jose! Let’s go
for a defeat drink,”

“I don’t know man, you were playing like you’re already
drunk, you sure you need one?” he teases. Great, rub a little salt in the
wound.

 

***

 

The game is a bit of a disappointment. Our team loses
and is in no mood to greet fans, which is a disappointment to me since we’ve
placed ourselves next to a family with young boys. Hoping my Baseball Star
would come out and sign autographs for them.

“There is always tomorrow,” Sarah encourages. “Stop sulking,
it took me two shows to get the Rock Star remember?”

“I know, but he was in
such
a sour mood when he left. What if he’s still in a bad mood
tomorrow?”
The pulse pounds in my veins just thinking about
him.
When he walked off the field his square jaw was set firm and his
eyebrows furrowed so far you could barely make out his caramel colored eyes.

“Then you change his mood,”

“Changing his mood might not be the easiest thing to
do.” He even kicked the trashcan on his way out, sending the contents flying
across the dugout. I’m not going to lie; it made my heart stutter in excitement
to see the passion he had. I hope it transfers into the bedroom.

For the time being, I needed to relax and get my head
into the poker game tomorrow. If I was sloppy, or distracted, I’d never get
past the first round.

We sit around by the pool the following day soaking
in the midday sun until I retire to my room to get ready, leaving Sarah by the
pool. If my skin got burnt, it’d ruin any chance of an enjoyable night. Sarah
eventually comes back to the room to get ready for the night, then we head for
the event.
 

Inside, the hotel lobby is filled with onlookers and
players in the tournament. A section of the
ball room
is roped off for the poker tables. I lead Sarah to the registration table and
get my assignment.

Excitement builds in my core, but I have to keep an
eye out for my Baseball star. “Have you seen him?” I ask as I chew on my
manicured fingernails.

“No, I don’t think any of them are here yet, but stop
that.” She pulls my hand from my face. “There’s time to relax and scope out my
poker competition, that’s good, go do it. I’ll keep an eye out.”

I sit at the designated table and receive my buy in
chips while Sarah goes to the bar to grab us some drinks.

Across the room, I spot him when he enters with two
very gorgeous, blonde, toned, women at his side. My heart sinks. I hadn’t
anticipated he’d have someone or two someone’s with him, but that’s always a
possibility.

“What’s wrong?” Sarah asks when she returns with
drinks in hand.

“He’s with someone,” I nod in his direction and she
follows my line of sight.

“Oh please? Are you worried about the woman with fake
breasts, hair, and tan?”

“Yes, or the other one, she looks all natural. He
came in with both of them. It’s over, let’s just play a little poker and have a
good weekend.”

“Why are you so down on yourself? Stop it, all you
know is he came in with them. They look like promo models to me.”

“Yeah but the one girl’s arms are more tone than
anything on my body!” I cry out, louder than necessary and heads turn in my
direction. Great, now he’ll think I’m checking out the girls on his arm, not
him.

“Fun trumps bimbo any day, just have
fun
and nature will do the rest.” She
disappears into the crowd of spectators leaving me to my own defenses.

My Baseball Star signs a few autographs as he makes
his way over to the competitor’s table.

Luck is on my side tonight and I move onto the next
round quickly, to the big boys table where my Baseball Star sits.
 

“Hello gentlemen,” I greet them when I sit down, “Is
everyone ready to play?”

“Welcome to the table, you are . . .?” My Baseball
Star greets me with a side smile and a questioning head tilt.

“Thank you, and it’s Amy”

As the game progresses, I quickly find out that Lady
Luck has left my
side,
I’m bleeding chips fast. It
seems like my Baseball Star refuses to let me bluff. He keeps raising the stakes
on me, but at least he’s also losing several hands.

On my final hand, I go all in on a pair of tens,
queen high. Unfortunately, my Baseball Star has the other three queens, and he
knocks me right out of the game.

“Well played, sir,” I shake his hand as I leave the
table. “Next time, you’re mine.”

His hands
envelopes
mine,
and I feel a current run through my body causing the hairs on the back of my
neck stand on end. Our hands stay clasped together.

“It was great watching you squirm, but I’m sorry I
took all your money.” My Baseball Star smirks. For some reason I feel the need
to wink at him before I walk away, swaying my hips.

“I feel so stupid,” I cry as the false bravado slips
away when I reach the bar where Sarah is standing.

“Why?”

“I winked at him,” I drop my head into my hands,
mortified.

“I don’t think that was a bad move, he watched you
leave. He’s also not played that well since you sat down at his table.” She
laughs.

“He took my chips,”

“Only because you’re smitten with him,”

“Why do we put ourselves through this?” I ask through
muffled hands.

“It’s the thrill of the chase; losing control every so
often is exhilarating.”

“I don’t think I like it. Can we go back to our
college days of seducing trust fund guys, and Ph.D. candidates? Those were so
much easier,” I complain.

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