Over the Fence Box Set

by Aarons, Carrie

  “What’re you doing?”

  I barely register Minka’s question and don’t bother to peel my eyes from the field twenty rows in front of us. “Hm?”

  “I asked what you were doing? Why do you look like Jesus himself might run out of the dugout right now?”

  Sliding my eyes over to her, I smile. “Maybe Jesus himself is about to come out of there. Hot Jesus in white baseball pants.”

  “You’re such a hornball. I knew you begged to come to this for a reason.”

  “More like one reason.” I lick my lips and blow her a kiss, earning me the usual Minka eye roll.

  “And what would that reason be?”

  Minka’s question lingers in my brain as the Grover team is announced. The uniform-clad hunks trot onto the field, almost all of them toned and tan and mouthwatering. But I’m zeroed in on one of them. Clint. In his catcher’s gear, his tall, muscular brawn makes my heart start thumping double-time and I can feel the wetness now coating my panties.

  That kiss. It set my bones ablaze; it stirred in me the most basic of needs. God, he’s so sexy. The way I felt like he wanted to swallow me whole. How his breath came out in loud gasps when we finally broke apart. The hard, long length of him pressed against my sex. Yeah, I am ready to go on a nice long vacation to “Fuck My Best Friend” island.

  “Are you eye-fucking Clint?” Minka’s voice pulls me back to consciousness from Sexland.

  “Maybe …”

  It looks like her eyes just about roll back in her head. “Wait, what? Since when?”

  I pat her on the back because it looks like she just might faint. “Um … since he got hot. Did you not notice that?”

  At my response, Minka frowns. And not a mock frown, like when someone is faking being mad or annoyed. This is a genuine, creases-in-her-eyebrow frown. “Kelsey. I’ve known you for almost your entire life. I thought you were better than that.”

  The players take the field down below, our guys assuming their positions out on the diamond. Since we are the home team, they’ll be batting second. I steal another glance at Clint, crouching down at home plate as Owen throws his head shakes and hand signals from the mound.

  “Oh, come on, Minks. Lighten up, I’m only kidding. I love Clint, like a friend. I also happen to know he can play tonsil-hockey like only a sexy athlete can.”

  At this point, it looks like Minka swallowed a bug and is choking on it. Her face is red, her eyes wide with shock. “You guys made out?”

  I just smile, silently confirming what I just told her to be true.

  “Kelsey …” Minka gives me her admonishing mother tone.

  “Save it, Minks. I’ve heard this speech enough times to know you’re already disappointed in me.”

  Minka checks her tongue but still continues. “Except you haven’t. Because this time I’m not concerned about you. You want to have casual flings your whole life? Fine. But you do realize Clint isn’t like that. And you’re absolutely blind if you don’t see the way he looks at you. Don’t do this. Not to him.”

  I’m stunned. Literally stunned. I think my jaw is scraping the dirty stadium floor, mixing with the crushed peanuts and spilled soda. Minka has never talked to me like this before. Sure, she’s bitched about my lack of boyfriends and excess of ex-hookups. But that tongue lashing? I’ve never fallen victim to one of her vicious attacks. Now I know what it feels like to be taken down a peg by my best friend.

  But what does she know, really? Clint seemed just as into what we were doing as I was. If he’s not cool with it, he would have let me know.

  “How does he look at me?” Despite all the stuff she just said to me, that is the one thing that sticks in my head.

  “Like he’s in love with you. Like the ground you walk on is sacred. Like Miles looks at Chloe. Like Owen looks at me.”

  I grimace. All of that fairy tale, love crap makes me nauseous. And Clint so doesn’t look at me like that. I even scoff when she raises her eyebrows at me to prove some point.

  “Please, Kelsey. Don’t go there.”

  She shouldn’t have said that. Because for as well as my best friend knows me, that’s a fatal mistake. Everyone knows that once I’m told I shouldn’t, or can’t, do something, it becomes priority numero uno.

  * * *

  I haven’t been able to take my eyes off of Clint’s ass for the last twenty minutes. Not when he’s bent down just so like that. I can see the muscles bunching in his muscular thighs, the way his tight, firm ass strains against the thin white material of his baseball pants as he catches pitch after high-speed pitch from Owen.

  He doesn’t have the fear gene anywhere in him. His best friend is launching ninety-mile-an-hour pitches at him and he doesn’t even flinch. I see in him what I often feel within myself. You get nowhere if you don’t stare fear in the face, laugh at it, and tell it to fuck off.

  Suddenly, Clint jumps up, hurling the ball directly in Owen’s direction. But this is a play they’ve practiced a thousand times. Clint’s giant, muscle-carved arm rears back and then explodes, sending the small white and red object soaring through the air. Owen ducks down onto his mound, his mind reading every single thing Clint has already thought. The two of them completely in sync throughout each play.

  The ball connects with a loud thwack and sinks into the second basemen’s glove.

  “OUT!” The umpire pumps his fist in a downward motion. Clint threw the runner, who was trying to steal one of his bases, out. He makes that motion hot guys always make. The one between a fist pump and a roar, his muscles all tense and his mouth drops open in a ferocious yell. He looks like the lion, controlling his kingdom from home plate.

  I stand up and scream with the rest of the crowd, putting my fingers in my mouth and whistling. It was the third and final out. Game over. Grover’s headed to the College World Series.

  “I can’t believe it! We’re going to the World Series! We’re going to Omaha!” Minka is jumping up and down, doing this hokey little happy dance that makes me laugh like a hyena. “Oh my God! Miles. He’s probably hating he missed this.” She looks worried about Chloe’s boyfriend. Only my stoic, serious best friend would think about that right now.

  “Chin up, buttercup. He’s happy as a clam right now. He’s got the hottest ballerina princess in all the land, and he’s headed for the majors. I’m sure he’ll be happy to watch from the stands with us when they make the championship series.”

  She smiles. “You’re right! Come on, let’s beat the crowd so we can get a table at Sammy’s.”

  Twenty minutes and two beers later, Minka finally whoops when Owen walks into the bar to a standing ovation. Her boyfriend begins jumping up and down, waving his hands around like a maniac.

  Still the same golden boy I went to high school with. He comes over to our table pulling Minka into his arms. He fuses his lips to hers, not caring who the hell in this bar is watching. People wolf-whistle and moan obnoxiously, but my friends just keep sucking each other’s faces. When they come up for air, finally, he mouths “I love you” to her. Yes, he may be the golden boy, but he loves Minka unconditionally for who she is and what she’s gone through. And for that, I will always love him like a brother.

  Clint comes in slowly behind him, to much less enthusiasm with a couple of back slaps. He’s so modest. He doesn’t need the limelight, his career is not forged off of ego and appearance. He loves to play and would be happy to do it alone if he could.

  “Great game, bros! You whooped those sorry bitches.” I fist bump Owen as he slides into our booth. Clint stands at the head of the table, awkwardly avoiding my eye contact.

  “I’m gonna grab a beer. See you guys in a bit.”

  Not so fast. It won’t be that easy to get rid of me tonight. “I’ll join you!”

  I hop up, linking my arm through his so fast and steering us away from the table so that he can’t do anything but be dragged along. I move us to a less occupied corner and stop, moving to face him.

  I try to make him look a
t me, but he’s got at least a foot and a half on my short ass. “Okay, when do you think you’ll stop it with this bitchy ‘let’s not talk to Kelsey’ routine? It’s getting old and you look like a sad sloth when you sulk.”

  I start off with a joke, thinking that maybe we can get our friendly banter going again. Clint was always my favorite friend to talk to. It was easy, there was never any pressure. Now it feels like pulling teeth from a gator just to get him to look my way.

  “I really am going to get a beer.” He turns, his massive body making me back up a step to accommodate for his movement.

  I grab his wrist before he can flee. “Seriously, what the fuck, Clint? You’re really going to keep ignoring me?”

  He stops and sighs. “What? What do you need to talk about?”

  I almost laugh. This is certainly not the Clint I know. “Um, how about the fact that you’re my best friend who hasn’t spoken to me in almost four days? Or how about we talk about the fact that we kissed? Or about the little fact bomb you dropped on me and then ran away?”

  Clint’s face goes ice-cold, his usual aquamarine orbs are as frigid and clear as the snow in Antarctica. I can see his jaw tic under the stubbly skin. And then he’s pulling me from the bar like it’s on fire.

  He pushes open the door violently. I didn’t even know he had that kind of anger in his being. And then we end up in the place where this all started. The alley. Although this time he’s trying to stand as far away as possible, not pushing me up against the dirty brick wall. Bummer for me, I suppose.

  “It isn’t enough that I embarrassed myself in front of you the other night with my secret? You need to go announce it to the whole bar?”

  I take a play right out of Minka’s book and roll my eyes. “Cool your jets, crazy. No one is listening to us, for one. For two, no one could have possibly known that’s what I was talking about. Your secret is safe, drama queen.”

  Clint exhales loudly again and runs his large hands through his military cut. I’d love to run my hands over the prickly black buzz cut again …

  “Talk. If that’s what you need to do.”

  He interrupts my fantasy. Focus, Kelsey. I breathe deep, searching through all the arguments and thoughts I’ve talked over in my head for the last three days.

  “You didn’t give me an opportunity to process the other night. It took me by surprise, I admit. But I’ve had the last three days to go over it in my head. You know, since you’re being a total childlike asshole and ignoring me.”

  Clint flinches at that. He almost looks guilty, but stiffens his upper lip and still refuses to look at me. I push on.

  “You being a virgin doesn’t matter to me, Clint. I only froze because I’m actually surprised that you are one. A nice guy like you, even at your heaviest. I thought you’d be pulling in a few of those baseball sluts looking to examine the team’s bats up close and personal. You have a stellar personality. Fuck, you are a stellar person.”

  He’s still staring over my head.

  “Would you at least look me in the eye if I told you I found it hot?”

  Now he’s laser focused in on me. That’s a good boy.

  He narrows his eyes. “Are you high?”

  I snort. It’s just so ironically funny because I should have toked up before this conversation. It would have made it so much easier.

  “No. I’m honest. Which is all I’ve ever been with you, Clint. You know me. I would think you’d be open enough with me to not avoid me like the fucking plague this week.”

  “You think it’s hot that I’m a virgin?”

  Typical guy. Only focused on the topic that addresses his dick and not the emotions. Not that that is a bad thing … it’s usually how I like to assess situations. With my pussy. Not my dick.

  “Yeah, I do.”

  Clint rubs a big hang down the back of his buzz cut. “Well … that’s … uh, good I guess.”

  I think he might be blushing. Damn, he’s cute. And sexy. Did I mention that I can still see some dirt dusting his arms from where he rubbed them on home plate? It makes my insides turn to mush just thinking about those thick, dirty arms holding me down on a mattress.

  Our eyes catch, and we can both tell what the other is thinking. Fantasizing about. Sex. Between us.

  All the blood in my body rushes straight to my clit, the pulsing and throbbing creating a warm buzz between my legs. I shift them to try to alleviate some of the pressure. Fuck me. All that does is create friction that causes me to stifle a moan.

  Clint’s eyes have gone indigo with lust. It makes my lower half flush, and I’m even more acutely aware of how hard my clit is throbbing. I know he will never make the first move. I don’t expect him to. I’ve been thinking about how to play this game for three days. Because Clint may play his baseball games, but we’re on my turf right now. Hookups. Friends with benefits. And I rule this league.

  “We could do something about that, you know.”

  I can see his sharp intake of breath. He knows exactly what I mean by my words. “Do something about what?”

  “Don’t play dumb, please. Honesty, remember? That’s the only way this works. We can fix your situation. I can take your V-card. We can perform the horizontal hula. Call it whatever you want, but you know we both want this.”

  Clint is silent for a minute. I know what he’s thinking. His cock says yes, but his brain … “But we’re friends, Kels. I want to fuck you, you don’t know how badly I want that right now. But this could also fuck everything up.”

  I’ve thought this one over too. “That’s exactly why this could be great. Ever hear of friends with benefits? We get to be best friends, but can also fuck like bunnies. Mutual satisfaction, buddy. And then we can go watch Law & Order on the couch and eat Doritos.”

  Clint’s eyes go from narrow to thinking. I can see I’m wearing him down. Taking a couple of steps forward, I cross the alley to stand in front of him.

  “I know you haven’t been able to stop thinking about that kiss either. About how much chemistry there is between us. Be my benefit buddy?” I say this quietly, almost coaxing him to give it up already and let this happen.

  He bites his lip and sighs. I can see the conflict in his beautiful, sapphire eyes, but I also see the need in them. The desire. I know I’ve got him. Looks like this girl will be going on vacation after all.

  5

  Clint

  This is such a horrible idea. This is going to end so badly. I’m a fucking idiot.

  My brain is shouting at me, filling my head with all the things that should make me stop right before I fist Kelsey’s hair in my hands and devour her lips.

  And then there is radio silence. Because when I’m consuming her, when there is nothing around but her skin and taste and smell, I don’t think straight. I can’t. It’s not possible.

  Which is why this is all happening in the first place. I’ve tried to keep my goddamn distance. Tried like hell to avoid her, to be nonexistent inside the walls of my house. I’ve bled my hands raw digging my fingernails into them when I start to think about that kiss. And my dick. It’s chafed and raw in places no man should ever be. I’ve come so much in the last three days that my balls are begging for a break.

  But then she has to go and drag me into this fucking alley. She has to prod the beast. Has to stand there, looking so cute and sassy, handing me my ass in the form of her complimenting my virginity. She stumps me. Leaves me speechless. How can I resist when she’s asking me to be her fuck buddy?

  I’m in so much trouble. But this feels too good. She’s too good. This is all I’ve wanted for the last two years and Kelsey just handed it to me on a silver platter. I’m only human. A very weak, male human, but … you get it.

  I push my tongue past her teeth and explore the soft skin inside her mouth. Each time our tongues connect, a jolt of lust hits me square between the balls. I was already hard before she even walked over here; now I’m like a steel pipe. My cock could cut a diamond in half I’m so ready for her.


  Kelsey pushes the hem of my shirt up and starts to assault my abs with her tiny hands. I suck in, still not used to there not being a pot belly under my button up. She rakes her short black-painted nails across my skin, and I swear I could come just from that contact. I don’t stop kissing her for one millisecond. It feels like days that we stand in the alleyway groping each other and making out.

  The soft strands of her vibrant hair under my fingers just adds to the amped-up feeling coursing through my body. I want to feel all of her, every minute of the day. Before I know what’s happening, I feel Kelsey flick the button on my jeans and drag the zipper down.

  My mind fuzzes out for a minute and I’m trying so hard not to blow my load like a seventh grader watching his first clip of porn. But then I realize where we are.

  “Stop.” My voice is raspy and gruff. It might be the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do to pull her hand away from the zipper of my jeans. “Not here.”

  Kelsey’s hazel eyes fill with understanding. “Right. Sex in public. We’ll work up to that. Um … okay, where do we go then?”

  I have to grit my teeth to stop imagining me taking Kelsey up against this wall, where anyone could see us. But I want my time with her. Alone. It might be the only time I get. The first and the last. I’m not letting anyone in on this show.

  “My car. I’ll drive us home.”

  It strikes me that I don’t know when I started referring to my house as hers too. But it’s home, with her there. We-half run to my junky old SUV. The fender is almost on the ground from how much weight I used to load into this thing, and the rust stains stand out in the peeling green paint. The heat of embarrassment burns the back of my neck, as it usually does whenever Kelsey rides in my car. She’s used to chauffeured limos and first class. I’m not in the same upper crust almost all of my friends reside in. This is as high as my lap of luxury goes.