Owen hasn’t just erased them. He obliterated them.
“Give me a second, I’ll be ready for round two in just a minute.” Owen breathes 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
My mother, while she loves me and dotes on me nonstop, hasn’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 don’t mind it so much now. Plus, it prepared my spoiled-ass for college, where there is no mommy and no maids.
The rest of the weekend with Minka was perfect. Fucking perfect. We spent most of it in bed, naked and that was just fine for me. After a short beach excursion the next morning, we headed home. I left her blushing on her front steps after a very long make-out session.
I can’t get enough of her. What she has given to me, not only her body, but her complete trust? I feel like locking it up and eating the key. I am going to protect her and it with everything I have.
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 doorframe.
I regard him silently. I haven’t spoken to him since our blow up when I got back from the clinic almost a month ago and have 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 a mention of the majors only ticks me off more.
“Is there something you needed?” I 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’ve seen him arrogant, cocky, and on the certain occasion happy. But never have I seen him nervous.
“I know your 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 talk about it, and there is virtually no one left from my past so nothing has ever come out.”
I know 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 respect 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 it’s 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. 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 hard-ass was what was best. But I realize now that was the worst thing I could have done. I am so goddamn proud of you, Owen. You are ten times the player that I ever was and you, my son, are destined for the history books.”
The straitjacket 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’s the one word I’ve always yearned to hear and here he is, 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. It’s like staring at a complete stranger. I don’t really know to process or feel about this entire exchange. But this is what I’ve 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 are 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’s 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’s not like any other girl I’ve ever encountered. She’s shy, yet bold. She’s conservative, yet carefree and would hand anyone who questioned her their ass. She’s so fucking smart, something that turns me on almost as much as her fucking perfect face and figu
re. And she understands me, but also calls me on my crap.
I have 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 go to my door.
Before he walks 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 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 don’t want to wait another second. Being away from that girl is torture. And if I have any say about where this was headed, she would soon be my girl.
She finally picks up on the third ring.
“Hello …” Her voice has a questioning ring to it.
“Hey, it’s me.” We haven’t talked on the phone all that much, but uh, she has my number. It’s 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. It’s 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.
“Okay, 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.
“Whoa, 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.
“Ah, young love. You better invite her for dinner tomorrow!” she yells at me as I run out the door.
* * *
It probably takes about fifteen minutes to get across town to Minka’s place. I get there in five flat.
Good thing Dad is the local celebrity and speeding by an Axel was usually excused. Bad thing now is that I am 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 sent over before I left my own house.
And my studying fantasy is even better than I could have imagined.
Minka sits tucked into a chair pulled into the patio table, books surrounding her on every side. Her dark, wild hair is piled on top of her head, making her look like some Grecian goddess. Her face is makeup free as it usually is. For some reason, I now thought every girl I’d ever considered pretty with that dirt slopped on their face was unattractive.
But it’s what she’s wearing that utterly slays me.
Her red bikini peaks out from the gauzy white cover-up thing girls are always wearing. If it’s meant to cover them, why is it see-through?
Not that I am 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 eighty-five miles an hour 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 comes to her.
After looping my tongue with hers, 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 a hundred. Jesus, Minka.”
I push her away a bit so I can take a mental picture of her dressed like this. This one is 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’s 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.”
“I feel the same.” Back to shy, coy Minka.
I take a deep breath, 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 are 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 does that mean? “So if they hadn’t seen me, you would have what? Kept me a secret?” The fact that the thought has crossed her mind kind of stings.
“I’m not saying that … it’s just … with my past, I like to keep things a bit more private.”
Okay, I get that she’s been wounded, but still. “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.”
She sits back in surprise. “Your girl?”
“Yeah … you, crazy. The girl I’ve been spending all my time with. The girl I’d like to be able to call mine if she’ll let me. If she’d stop being so damn stubborn.”
I move closer to her on the lounger, so that she is almost sitting in my lap. I wrap my arms around her to pull her closer to me. “Say you’ll be my girlfriend,” I whisper, searching her eyes for some kind of positive answer.
“Owen …” She sighs, her dazzling eyes a mixture of caution and question. “You’ll be at college and I still have another year left here, who knows where I’ll be after that …”
I cut her off, trying to calm any nerves she has about making this official. “I’m only forty-five minutes away. We will make it work, I can come here and you can drive to me some weekends. We don’t have to outline everything now, but I just know that here, at school, hell wherever I am, there will not be another girl as amazing as you. I really want to give us a shot.”
She’s silent for a minute or two, that sexy contemplative look marking her face. Finall
y, I can’t take it.
Leaning forward, I frame her beautiful face with my hands, their size dwarfing her petite features. I stroke my thumb across her high cheekbones and watch her lean into the caress. Moving my lips to hers, I swipe over them softly once, twice. I coax her lips with mine, until we are kissing slowly and softly, moving our mouths in tandem.
I am trying to pour all my feelings of hope into her. Come on, say yes.
“This is not fair. You’re cheating.” She groans as I swoop in for another languid kiss.
She moves her hands to my pecs, pulling on my shirt to move me closer. I am practically drowning in her fragrant smell, lilac with a touch of sunscreen. My hands move down her back as I pull her over to straddle me. I can feel her hot flesh through the gauzy material, and her scrap of bikini is doing nothing to conceal the wetness pooling from her core.
God, she is so wet I feel it through my shorts. My dick is so hard it feels painful pushed between us.
“Say you’ll be my girlfriend.” I grip her smooth, curvy hips, grinding her clit up and down on my erection, giving us both the friction we desire.
A small moan bursts from her lips. “Fine,” she croaks.
“What was that?” I lick the small, sensitive spot behind her left ear and my dick twitches at her sharp intake of breath.
“Yes. I’ll be your girlfriend.” Minka is mewling at me now, pawing at my shirt to get it over my head.
I wrap her legs around my waist and stand, carrying her into her house. I suck and bite her neck as we go, her body barely hanging onto mine. I take us down a hallway, only to discover we’ve ended up near the garage.
“Other direction.” She half-giggles, half-whines because of how ready she is.
I head across the sprawling ranch style home, nearly running now. I need to be inside her so badly. Meanwhile, the little vixen is raking her fingers through my hair and sucking on the spot on my neck that makes my balls draw up in anticipation. Sensations are skittering down my body, zeroing in on the head of my cock.
Finally, finding her room, I march in and all but throw her on the bed.
Over the Fence Box Set Page 15
