Pitching to Win (Over the Fence #1) (13 page)

BOOK: Pitching to Win (Over the Fence #1)
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"Just filling my daily asshole-jock quota for the day. Wouldn't want to give you any less ammo in your assault on my personality, you know?" He grins that devilish smile.

"Go find my bra. Some jerk took it from me and I need it back."

"Lucky jerk. But honey, you don't need to cover any of that up." Owen winks and dives head first down into the deep end, presumably looking for the scrap of lace laying at the bottom.

I sigh and float onto my back, staring up at the moon in my afterglow of bliss. I'd never known it could be like this.

In the dozen or more times I'd been with Gregory, he'd never once given me an orgasm. Which wasn't fine, but could have been semi-overlooked if he'd been decent afterwards. Usually, he'd carry on about how good it felt for him, and then immediately get up to put his clothes back on. Then he'd either rush me out of his house, or quickly exit mine.

I had entered new and uncharted territory. Physically, things with Owen were amazing. Extraordinary. As good as they could get, and more.

But we also had a friendship, an easy banter and an understanding of the other's problems.

I'd never known what people meant when they said the full package, but I got it now. And it would be extremely hard to let go of when the time came.

And that time would come, but right now, I wanted to live for myself. In this moment. No regrets or fears or doubts.

I hear Owen's body break the surface of the water, and am aware of his proximity to me. Right before he can grab me and do god know's what, I sink under and push away from him, swimming into the shallow end and making a break for the stairs.

I amble up onto the stoned patio surrounding the pool, and stand in the moonlight, facing the pool in nothing but my tiny thong.

Owen remains in the shallow end, frozen in place holding my bra.

He stares, his eyes raking over my body like laser beams, hot and greedy, pinpointing my naked breasts, stomach and legs. I see him begin to harden again, his semi-erect cock rising above the shallow water.

"What the fuck did I do to deserve being here with you right now?" His gaze flicks up to my eyes, as if he was seriously asking me, expecting an answer. "You're so fucking beautiful, Minka. Everything about you."

His words stroke my heart, causing me to go a bit weak in the knees. I don’t think before I ask.

"Will you take me to your bed tonight?"

H
e led
me up the stairs, holding tight and firm to my hand as we went. When we made it the third floor, he stood toe-to-toe with me. Sweeping me into a hug, he began to move, slowly, like we were dancing. His fingers were like flower petals, brushing gently up and down my body.

"We don't have to do this if you're not sure. You say how far and how fast."

I nod to his statement. It’s all I can do, not sure what words might come out if I speak. I was sure about this, but I didn't want to get in my own way.

Owen, still hugging me to his chest, backs me up into his room. The moonlight streams through the big bay windows, illuminating his large body.

Still naked, with water droplets clinging to his hair and chest, he looks like a Roman statue come to life. He took my breath away.

"Come here, beautiful." He demands quietly, giving me a look full of lust and warmth.

One big hand frames my face, the other presses into my lower back as he takes my lips up. Taking his time, swiping his tongue in and out of my mouth, he backs us up toward the bed and gently lays us down.

We just kiss for a while, so much so that I am trembling from the intensity and care he is putting into this moment. This was nothing like the pool, where we'd taken each other hot and fast. Owen was seducing me now, slowly and tenderly. It felt important. Deep. The connection he was carefully building caused my heart to melt.

Moving his thigh out from between my legs, he begins to kiss slowly down my body, and I feel myself start to shake more.

"Calm down. I'm going to make you feel good." Owen smiles up at me, and I relax a little.

And then his tongue is there, and I am shaking like my body is going through a seizure.

He is lighting me on fire from the inside out, my body feeling like it was going to combust at any minute. Owen uses his tongue and his hands, building up slowly to the very peak of my orgasm, and then slowing down right before I shatter.

"Owen..."I croak, and my voice sounds so far away, like I’m not even hearing it from inside the room.

He looks up, his eyes burning blue flames, just like the hottest tip of the fire. I see him reach into his suitcase at the foot of the bed, and come up with a condom.

Laying down next to me, I rub his chest impatiently as he rolls the rubber skin onto himself. His cock is pulsing, engorged to the point that I don’t think it will fit inside me.

Owen positions himself on top of me, staring into my eyes.

"I know you haven't...in a while. This might hurt. Just talk to me, ok?"

I nod, not even able to speak I'm so far gone at the moment.

And then he's pushing into me.

He wasn't kidding about the hurt part. I don't remember much of the sex Gregory and I had, but I do know that Owen is way bigger than him.

There is a pinching sensation as he slides in.

"Ok?" He looks worried. A vein in his neck is popping out, and I can tell he's trying to keep his desires in check.

"Yeah." I whisper, canting my hips. I know that it will feel better once he starts to move.

Owen strokes once, twice, slow and testing. A moan rips out of me as he pushes in to the hilt.

"Yesss..." he growls at the noises coming from my mouth.

I think I might explode at any moment. My body knows exactly what to do as Owen coaxes unintelligible sounds from my mouth. I’m so full of him that I’m afraid every next move will shatter me entirely.

He takes my hands, lacing his fingers through mine and pinning them to the back of the bed near my head.

“I want to see you.” He shudders, and I can tell that we are both so close but trying to prolong this.

We stare into each other’s eyes as he rocks into me, the pressure oh so good when he fills me up. I let out a soft whine each time he retreats, as if my body won’t function properly without him inside me.

I’m not sure how I got so close so fast, but before I know it, the first signs of orgasm are sending electrical pulses through my nerve endings, pooling low in my belly and then exploding out as the full force of it overtakes me.

I’m moaning and mewling into Owen’s chest as he barricades me to the bed, picking up speed to get himself there and keep my orgasm going. Shudders and aftershocks wrack my body, and I feel myself hurdling toward the peak again as he pounds into me.

“Shit, baby, oh my god. I’m gonna…” Owen can’t even get the last word out as he stares into my face, letting out the sexiest growl I’ve ever heard as he jerks into my body. Then he stills completelys, and I can feel his release pouring out, the veins in his cock milking every last drop.

He lowers onto me carefully, kissing my neck, my collarbone, and finally my lips.

“You’re perfect.” He looks at me in awe, and I can’t wipe the goofy grin off of my face.

My body was in pure bliss, riding high from my orgasm. And I was happy. Really happy. I’d been brave enough to give myself to another boy, to try and erase the bad memories that this intimate act held for me.

Owen hadn’t just erased them. He’d obliterated them.

“Give me a second, I’ll be ready for round two in just a minute.” Owen breathed sarcastically, heavily rolling off of me and pulling me to him.

My eyes widen at his dick, which is still rock hard.

“Remember the first time we met, when you said you wouldn’t take your thong off for me…”

“You’re a jerk.” I laugh, knowing exactly where he is going with that one.

“But I’m your jerk.” He eyes me greedily, rolling me onto my back.

And my smart mouth doesn’t protest one bit.

21
Owen

M
y mother
, while she loved me and doted on me non-stop, hadn't done my laundry in years. After a few baseball games where I'd come home covered in dirt, sweat, or worse, blood, she'd gotten the hell out of Dodge. Her message to me? If I wanted to continue with baseball, I'd have to wash my own vile uniforms.

While it sucked those first few years, I didn't mind it so much now. Plus, it had prepared my spoiled ass for college, where there is no mommy and no maids.

The rest of the weekend with Minka had gone perfectly. Fucking perfectly. We spent most of it in bed, naked, and that was just fine for me. After a short beach excursion the next morning, we’d headed home on Sunday. I’d left her blushing on her front steps after a very long makeout session.

I couldn’t get enough of her. What she gave to me, not only her body, but her complete trust? I felt like locking it up and eating the key. I was going to protect her and it with everything I had.

Folding another practice jersey and placing it to the side, I glance up to make eye contact with none other than my dad, standing in the door frame.

I regard him silently. I haven’t spoken to him since our blow up when I'd gotten back from the clinic almost a month ago, and had seen him just about as much as that.

"Just wait until you're in the majors and someone does that for you. Major perk." He gives me a thumbs up in his lame attempt to start this conversation. The fact that he starts off with mention of the majors only ticks me off more.

"Is there something you needed?" I disjointedly begin whipping clothes out of the basket and folding them haphazardly. If I can just finish, it means being able to leave this room and walk out on any talk with my dear old dad.

When he doesn’t say anything for several seconds, I’m forced to look back up. And have to mentally check myself to not let my jaw hit the floor. My father actually looks nervous.

I'd seen him arrogant, cocky, and on the certain occasion happy. But never have I seen him nervous.

"I know you're mother talked to you about sitting down with me. I was wondering if we could do that now."

"Sure, I'm sitting." I am a prick, but doing it on purpose. Let him grovel a bit more.

"This is probably a talk I should have had with you a long time ago...." He starts in, his Adam’s Apple bobbing as he swallows, visibly shaken. What the hell has him so on edge?

“My childhood, it wasn’t an easy one, Owen. You know I grew up poor, but you don’t know the circumstances of it. I never talked about it, and there is virtually no one left from my past, so nothing has ever come out.”

I knew he was poor growing up, it was actually one of the things that connected my parents. The other was that they worked their way to the top from nothing, which I respected immensely.

He keeps going. “I grew up in this shit poor town in Arkansas. My dad…he was a drunk, a total loser. I never met my mother, she either took off or died before I could remember her.”

Shock overtakes my system…I can’t ever imagine my powerful, arrogant father in a situation like the one he’s describing.

“This house, yes its a mansion by any standards. But my childhood home? It makes this place look like a fucking castle. I grew up in a one bedroom trailer. The water tank would go out every other day, I slept on the couch for fifteen years. Fifteen years, Owen. I didn’t have a bed until I joined the minors.”

His eyes dart around the room. I can feel the angst and pain pouring off of him, this being a topic he obviously never wanted to address again.

“Dad, you don’t…we don’t have to talk about this…” I say cautiously. I suddenly feel very young sitting next to my father, who is close to tears.

“No, I need to tell you this. We weren’t just poor, Owen. That would have been bearable. But no. That bastard couldn’t just live with that. He had to abuse me on top of everything else.” He whispers out these last words, as if saying them quietly means he’s not really putting them out into the world. “He kicked the living shit out of me on a daily basis since I can remember. He would have friends, girlfriends, drug dealers over.”

Rolling up his sleeve and turning his arm over, I see dozens of tiny scars I’ve never bothered to look at before. “They would slap me, kick me, and even put out cigarettes on me.”

A tiny tear slips out of his eye, rolling down to his sturdy jaw. I have never in my life seen my father cry. It makes me feel incredibly helpless and small, like the world is closing in on me.

“Dad, I’m sorry…I didn’t know—” I’m nearly choking on the words now.

“No. I’m sorry.” He sighs, rolling down his sleeves and checking his emotions. “I didn’t know what my place as a father was. One minute I didn’t want to be anything like my father, and the next I thought that his rough treatment of me got me to where I was. And maybe it would make you a star, too. All I’ve ever wanted was for you to achieve your dreams. And ever since you were little, you wanted to play ball. I just wanted to help you get there.”

He looks at me then, regret and apology in his eyes. The same color as mine. “And now I fear that I’ve done it all wrong. I thought being a hardass was what was best. But its not how I feel. I am so goddamn proud of you, Owen. You are ten times the player that I ever was, and you are destined for the history books.”

The straightjacket of pressure that has been strapped to my chest for nearly my entire life suddenly snaps. Relief and my father’s words are the balm that cools my hurting soul. Proud. It was the one word I’d always yearned to hear, and here he was, serving it to me on a silver platter.

“Thanks, dad. For uh…telling me about your past…but also for being proud of me. I…I was always doing all of this for you. Sure, I love the game. But you’re the one who taught me to love it.”

“I’d like to start over. If you’ll let me.” His eyes plead with me.

Surprise still runs through my veins. I have never seen him so contrite. Its like staring at a complete stranger. I don’t really know to process or feel about this entire exchange. But this is what I’d always wanted. If he could try harder, so could I.

“I think that would be great.” I hold out my hand for him to shake, but he pulls me into a hug instead.

I am beyond shocked that I think my body goes kind of stiff. The whole thing is a bit awkward, but we’ll work on it.

We both pull back, smiling sheepishly at the weird affectionate moment.

“So, uh, mom says you’ve been seeing a girl.” This was his attempt to try harder? Well, I guess girls was a neutral subject.

“Yeah, I have. She’s…incredible.” I smile wide just thinking of Minka.

“Uh oh,” Dad laughs, a big hearty laugh. “You’re in deep boy!”

“Huh?”

"I mean, you are in the shit deep. That was the exact look I had when I was first trying to get your mother to date me."

He raises an eyebrow at me, and I think about it. Yeah, I really like Minka. A lot. But we have only spent a month or two getting to know each other. Can I already be in that deep?

Yeah, I definitely can.

She wasn't like any other girl I'd ever encountered. She was shy, yet bold. She was conservative, yet carefree and would hand anyone who questioned her their ass. She was so fucking smart, something that turned me on almost as much as her fucking perfect face and figure. And she understood me, but also called me on my crap.

I had to be a goddamn moron not to have locked her down already.

"You should bring her to dinner this week, we'd like to meet her." Dad comments before rising to walk to my door.

Before he turns out, I stop him. "Hey dad...thanks for this. And yeah, I’ll bring her by."

He nods, a small smile flashing across his face.

Once he'd leaves, I grab my phone from where it lays across the bed, and unlock it. Flipping onto my back, I punch the screen, and Minka's number flashes across it.

I didn't want to wait another second. Being away from that girl was torture. And if I had any say about where this was headed, she would soon be
my
girl.

She picks up on the third ring.

"Hello..." her voice has a questioning ring to it.

"Hey, its me." We hadn't talked on the phone all that much, but uh, she had my number. It was programmed into her phone.

"Oh, hey. Sorry, I'm just in the middle of studying. I wasn't really paying attention when I picked up—“ she trails off and I know she’s deep in thought. The image of her bent over textbooks, a pencil in her mouth, that concentrated look in her eye instantly makes my dick go from zero to raring to go in two seconds flat. I begin to stroke myself through my pants. I’m aware I’m a very sick man.

"Oh yeah? Let me come over and help you study..." I begin to pretend to heavy breathe through the phone.

"You are a sick man." Yeah, she knows me.

"And you love it. Come on, let me come over. Its summer! Loosen up with me."

"I hear your naughty smile through the phone. And I would smack you if I wasn't so intrigued about you coming over."

"So that's a yes?" I silently pray.

"Yes. Come over, you pushy jock." Immediately coming to my feet, I put Minka on speaker and throw the phone on my dresser.

"I'm going to choose to ignore that now and act on my feelings when I get over there." Pulling the t-shirt I pluck out of my laundry pile over my head, I sniff once. Yeah, new deodorant application needed
stat
.

"Ok, I'll see you when you get here." She hangs up, cutting me off from any more dirty comments I could, and probably would have, made.

I don new shorts with my college logo on them, and check my teeth in the mirror for any lunch left behind. Pulling on my socks and sneakers, I grab my wallet and keys, almost tripping over my feet trying to scramble down the stairs.

"Woah, caro, where is the fire?" Mama stops in the hallway, carrying a tall vase of freshly cut flowers.

"I'm going over to Minka's, I'll be home later." I stoop to kiss her on the cheek. My heart is beating full blast, as if pulling my chest to the car and one step closer to Minka.

"Ah, young love. You better invite her for dinner tomorrow!" she yells at me as I run out the door.

I
t probably takes
about fifteen minutes to get across town to Minka's place. I get there in five flat.

Good thing dad was the local celebrity, and speeding by an Axel was excused. Bad thing that I was dating the Police Chief's daughter. He would have totally arrested me on the spot.

I walk around to the backyard per Minka's text instructions she'd sent over before I'd left my own house.

And my studying fantasy is even better than I could have imagined.

Minka sat tucked into a chair pulled into the patio table, books surrounding her on every side. Her dark, wild hair was piled on top of her head, making her look like some Grecian goddess. Her face was makeup free, as it usually was. For some reason, I now thought every girl I'd ever considered pretty with that dirt slopped on their face was unattractive.

But its what she’s wearing that utterly slays me.

Her red bikini peaks out from the gauzy white cover-up thing girls were always wearing. If it was meant to cover them, why was it see-through?

Not that I was complaining at this particular moment.

I can make out the swells of her tits, bulging but contained in the tiny scraps of fabric. Her tight stomach is visible, with the bottoms she wears riding low on her sexy hips.

Bounding over in three strides, I scoop her up.

"Ohmygod Owen! You scared me! What, did you do like 85 coming over here?!"

I cut the rest of her interrogation off, shoving my tongue in her mouth. This girl makes me feel like a savage. I can’t behave myself when it came to her.

After looping my tongue with her's, rendering us both breathless by the time I pull away, I speak. "If I had known that this was how you were studying, I would have done 100. Jesus, Minka."

I push her away a bit so I can take a mental picture of her dressed like this. That one was definitely going in the spank bank for later use.

She blushes, pushing at my shoulder. "Enough gawking jeez."

She is so fucking cute when she was shy. She walks me over to the lounger on the opposite end of the patio and scoots against the back of it while I take a seat on the end. I reach for her hand, running my other hand up and down her calf. Just touching her makes my world better.

"How's studying going?"

She has both eyes closed, head tilted up into the sun, basking in the rays. I feel like the blood in my body is moving too fast. I can hear it whooshing in my ears.

"It was good, but boring. I'm glad you came over."

"Me too, I missed you." That earns me an eye open and a bright smile from her.

"Really?" She asks as if she doesn’t quite believe me.

"Yeah. These past two months have been great. Getting to know you."

"I feel the same." Back to shy, coy Minka.

I take a deep breathe, preparing myself for the commitment bomb I’m about to drop on her. "So, my parents want you to come over for dinner tomorrow."

That earns me a two eye open and a jaw drop. "Your parents know about me?"

What? Girls were so weird. "Of course they know about you. That's what happens when you like someone. When you really like them. Your friends and dad know about me, right?"

"Well...yeah...but that's because they saw you with me."

What did that mean? "So if they hadn't seen me, you would have what? Kept me a secret?" The fact that the thought had crossed her mind kind of stung.

"I'm not saying that...its just...with my past, I like to keep things a bit more private."

Okay, I got that she'd been wounded. "You have to know that I'd never hurt you. I want to do the opposite in fact. I want you to meet my parents. Isn't that like, magic words to a girl?"

"I guess you got stuck with the a-typical girl of the bunch." She frowns, and I grab her chin to pull her face level with mine. "Isn't it a bit too fast to be meeting your parents anyway?"

"I don't think so. They're curious about my girl."

BOOK: Pitching to Win (Over the Fence #1)
5.02Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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