Her Home Run Desires

by Payne, Jenna

  Grant gave Maisie an unsure, questioning look, and at her smile followed after her and Ramsay to their little cottage where their father sat by the fire, as he usually was now that he was getting older, warming his bones and resting his eyes. He looked up when Ramsay's broad frame filled the door, and the smile that bloomed on his face when he spotted Maisie just behind her brother filled her eyes with tears. She and Ramsay were all he had left in the world. He moved far more quickly than Maisie had ever seen to wrap her in a hug that lacked the strength of her brother's but carried no less love.

  "Oh, my child," he whispered, stroking her hair. "My sweet lass. Thank ye, stranger, fo' bringing her home t' us."

  "'Twas nothing," Grant replied. He had not entered the house, but stood with the toes of his boots just at the threshold. "I'm glad t' see her back safe where she belongs." There was something queer in his voice. Maisie pulled away from her father's embrace with a slight frown to stare at Grant, but he wasn't looking at her.

  "I don't have much," Father continued, "but I will give ye what I can t' repay ye for yer kindness."

  "That's nae necessary," Grant said. "I'm simply happy t' have returned her t' you."

  "At least come in and warm yerself," Father said and gestured to the hearth.

  "Thank ye fo' th' offer," Grant replied, "but I must return home. 'Tis nae a long journey, but I must be swift if I wish t' arrive before nightfall."

  "Can ye nae stay?" Maisie asked.

  Grant finally looked at her and shook his head.

  "'Tis nae my place," he said, then bowed, albeit stiffly, to her father and brother. "I'm pleased t' have been o' service," he continued. "Take care, lass. I doubt we'll see each other again." He handed her satchel to her.

  Maisie was left speechless, unable to do anything but watch as Grant turned on his heel and walked back through the village. She stood at the door, wanting to run after him, but finding her feet rooted to the ground. He vanished between the trees within minutes, leaving no sign that he had ever been there save for a dull ache in Maisie's chest. She felt Ramsay's heavy hand on her shoulder, pulling her back from the door.

  "Are ye well?" he asked softly, his gaze intent and serious. "Ye look pale. Did he hurt ye?"

  "No," Maisie said quickly. "He was th' perfect gentleman. I'm simply tired from th' walk. 'Tis nae an easy one t' make."

  "Aye, I imagine so," Ramsay replied. He didn't seem satisfied with her answer but at least he let the subject drop. "Well, unless ye feel like giving me a hand around th' forge, ye best get some sleep. Ye've quite the shadows under yer eyes."

  Maisie hummed wordlessly and nodded, and let Ramsay lead her to her room. Being the only girl in their family had afforded her her own space, and she was grateful for it now as she sat on her low bed with its creaking wooden frame and tried to sort through the feelings in her head.

  *****

  The trip had tired her out more than she realized. She hadn't intended to fall asleep, but she found herself waking to a dark room save for a single candle burning by the bed and the soft glow of the fire, accompanied by her father and brother's quiet voices from the main room. She endeavored to be quiet, not wanting to alert her family that she was awake. They would doubtless ask her more questions and Maisie wasn't in the state of mind to answer any of them.

  Sleep had not dulled the ache in her chest. She was still tired, but her body was taut with restlessness. Being as quiet as she was able, she stood and stretched, and paced around her small room, rolling her neck and doing what she could to loosen her stiff muscles. She had almost expected to be in bed with Grant, and now that the reality was setting in she was finding she didn't like it.

  Even the sounds the tiny village managed to make were too much compared to the quiet she had found in the caves by the loch.

  She peeked out her tiny window. The moon was high in the sky, but even with its full, bright light she wouldn't be able to find her way back to the loch without risking being hurt in a way far worse than a twisted ankle from a bad tumble. The forest's beasts came out to play at night, and this close to the village Maisie couldn't be sure that Grant would find her like he had the first time. Likely it would be one of the hunters, and then more questions Maisie didn't want to answer would be asked.

  Perhaps it was best just to tell her father what she was thinking. He had always taught her to be honest, but would honesty serve her here? She didn't know. All she did know was that she missed Grant, and that watching him walk away had been like losing a piece of herself. Maybe it was some strange faerie magic that he had cast upon her while she was sleeping, but it felt real. Even if she could tell the difference she wouldn't care. Grant was handsome and kind and despite his secret he was one of the best men Maisie had ever met. She wouldn't find better than him, no matter where she searched. He was one of a kind, and he had made her feel special without even trying.

  She nearly tripped over her satchel where it had landed on the ground after she had fallen asleep. She stooped to pick it up. The food was long gone, of course, but there was more to be had, and plenty of clean, fresh water in the area. She remembered the way back well enough. If her adventures had been good for anything it was that, and now that she knew where the entrance to the cave system was... As long as she didn't stumble through the hole in the top of Grant's makeshift bedroom then she would have no trouble finding her way back to him.

  She hung her satchel off the corner of her bed, thoughts turning once more to her family. They would be fine without her, she knew, even with her father's aging. Ramsay was set to marry soon, and Maisie had no doubt that he and his wife could take care of Father once he could no longer do so himself. The forge was doing well and there was no reason for that to change, not when people constantly needed nails, and tools, or horse's shod. Her mind was already made up, but reasoning through it all made her feel less guilty about wanting to leave and kept her mind off of how she would explain it. She wished that she could write so she could simply leave them a note, but neither of them could read either, so it was a pointless wish. Perhaps Grant could teach her, and one day she could come back to visit and teach her loved ones as well.

  Steeling herself with a deep breath, she stepped out of her room to face her family.

  ***

  Ramsay woke her early, bundled in a thick cloak, his face haggard and unshaven. “Up ye get,” he said quietly. “I dinnae want t' be waiting long for this man o' yers.”

  “Then get out so I can dress,” Maisie mumbled, shoving at him.

  He grunted and stepped out. Everything for the short journey had been prepared the night before. Maisie didn't have so many things that she required a cart to move it, and Ramsay was more than strong enough to carry a bag with her dresses and personal effects. She dressed quickly in a simple green dress and a pair of soft boots that gave more support to her ankle than her normal shoes did, and joined her brother by the front door. He wasn't best pleased with Maisie's desires, but he hid his displeasure well. Maisie lingered at the threshold. She would return, she knew that much, when she could persuade Grant that he didn't need to spend his entire life in a cave.

  “I'm ready,” Maisie said.

  Ramsay hoisted his pack higher and set off, Maisie close on his heels.

  The trip felt longer and was made worse by Ramsay's silence and Maisie's nerves. She hoped Grant would want to see her again. Ramsay had promised to remain nearby, at least, until they were both certain everything had worked out the way it was supposed to. He had a harder time of climbing over the terrain that Maisie did, but made no complaints. When they came to the creek they paused to drink and have a brief breakfast, then continued on their way, Maisie doing her best to remember from which direction she and Grant had come. Every so often she glanced up, hoping to catch a glimpse of a beast in the sky, but had no such luck.

  She was starting to think everything had been a terrible idea when they reached the loch and there, bathing near the shore, was Grant's familiar form. Maisie's shou
lders relaxed.

  “Stay here,” she told Ramsay, and carefully made her way down to the water's edge. She made no effort to hide the noise her footsteps made. When she was close Grant twisted about, his shoulders dropping when he saw it was only her. Confusion crossed his face.

  “What are ye doin' here?” he asked, making a move towards her before remembering he was naked and giving the water a frustrated look. “Ye should be home, with yer family.”

  “But that's not where I want t' be,” Maisie replied. “I spoke t' my father and brother. They're nae thrilled, but they want nothing more than for me t' be happy, and I'm happy when I'm with ye.” Ramsay skidded down the rise of the hill behind her, pebbles skittering under his boots.

  “Are ye goin' t' let her stay with ye or nae?” he asked. “Because I've walked all th' way out here with her and if all ye're goin' t' do is break her heart then I'm taking her back.”

  Grant looked between Maisie and her brother and cleared his throat. “I... if ye dinnae mind turning yer backs for a moment?”

  Maisie closed her eyes and listened as Grant waded out of the water. When he cleared his throat she opened them and bit her lip to keep from making a sound that would embarrass her in front of her brother. Grant had hastily wrapped his kilt about his waist and held it with one hand. Water shone on his skin in the sunlight and ran in rivulets down his body.

  “Will ye give me an answer now?” Ramsay asked, sounding impatient.

  Grant ran a hand through his wet hair and sighed. “Is this what ye want, lass?” he asked.

  Maisie nodded. “Aye.”

  Grant sighed again and nodded. “I willnae break her heart,” he said to Ramsay. “Ye have my word.”

  “Good,” Ramsay said.

  “I'll be inside,” Grant said softly, and held out his hand for the bag Ramsay carried. Maisie watched him retreat into the shadows of the cave then wrapped her arms tightly around her brother, burying her face in his neck.

  “If ye need to, ye come home,” he said gruffly. He wouldn't cry, but his voice was thick with tears. “Promise?”

  “I promise,” Maisie whispered. Ramsay squeezed her waist so hard he pushed the air out of her lungs then let her drop the half inch he had lifted her off the ground.

  “I'll tell Father all is well,” he said. “Take care. Visit often, aye?”

  “Aye,” Maisie replied. She stepped back and brushed wetness from her eyes. Ramsay squeezed her shoulders and took a good look at her face, then nodded and turned away. Maisie watched him disappear over the rise of the hill, hugging herself. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Grant slip into the open air, dressed and looking hesitant and concerned.

  “Maisie?” he asked. “Are ye well?”

  Maisie nodded, letting out a heavy sigh, and reached for his hand. “Aye,” she said. “I'm perfect now. But I willnae live in a cave.”

  Grant let out a full laugh and grinned at her, pulling her close. “I'll build ye a house with my own two hands,” he said, before lowering his head to cover her mouth with his in a brief but fiery kiss and lifted her up into his arms, continuing to kiss her even as he navigated the corridors of his cavern home.

  She felt the warmth of the sun on her skin as they crossed beneath the hole in the roof of his room and then the softness of the bed beneath her and the firm heat of Grant above her, kissing her back into the pillows and furs.

  “Grant,” she gasped out, “I want t'… feel ye, but... if we do this and I conceive a child... will it carry the same burden as ye do?”

  Grant propped himself up to look down at her, his eyes dark but gentle. “Only if you have a son,” he said, “and I am more than equipped t' deal with that.”

  Maisie felt something inside her relax. “Good,” she said, and went to pull Grant back into a kiss.

  He resisted, a question in his gaze. “Why did ye come back?” he asked.

  “I'm happy here,” Maisie said, “in the quiet, surrounded by nature. Surrounded by ye. I cannae explain it more. Is that enough for ye?”

  Grant tucked her hair behind her ear and nodded. “Aye, 'tis enough,” he said, and kissed her firmly. He hadn't properly dressed, and so it was all too easy for Maisie to get her hands underneath his clothes and to the hot skin beneath. He was always so warm, like constantly being near a fire.

  He settled between her legs, letting his mouth drop to brush kisses along her jaw and neck and lower to her collarbone, pushing her skirt up and wrapping one of her legs around his waist. His kilt still separated his hips from hers, but she could feel the hardness of his erection pressing against her sex, and the gentle grinding exasperated the familiar, growing ache. Grant reached down to touch her, his hand fitting easily between their bodies and his fingers teasing at her entrance until she canted her hips up and he took it as an indication to gently press one into her. She felt her walls clench around his digit and try to pull it deeper.

  “God above, Maisie,” Grant breathed into her chest. “Ye'll have me undone before I've even had ye.”

  “So take me,” Maisie said through a gasp. She reached down to pull at his kilt until she freed it from where it was pinned between their sexes and rubbed against his hand, not caring how wanton she seemed. It felt too good to deny herself the pleasure of it, and Grant clearly cared for hers as much as, if not more, than his own.

  “Are ye sure ye dinnae want a bit more... this?” he asked, curling his finger.

  Maisie moaned and hooked her other leg around him, pulling his hips closer. Grant groaned and removed his hand, stopping only to brush his thumb over her aching nub as he slowly guided himself inside her. It was a change from his finger, but not so much that it was painful. Her initial tightness passed after a few seconds, and the feeling of him properly inside her became less awkward and more pleasurable.

  “It helps if ye move, Maisie,” Grant said softly into her ear.

  His teeth scraped against the shell before he sucked the lobe between his teeth. Maisie let her fingers tangle in his hair and rolled her hips up. Grant placed both his hands on her waist to guide her until her body found its rhythm. She already felt close to bursting, hot and aching and lingering just on the edge though he had hardly touched her. He thrust into her in all the right ways, not too fast but not too slow, and firmly enough to shake the bed but not so hard that it hurt her. It just pushed her closer to her peak, and from the sounds he was making next to her ear, it sounded like he was close as well.

  He moaned her name, quietly, but it was enough to push her over the edge. She clenched around his length, trying to pull him even deeper, and it seemed to be enough for him as well, for he let out a strangled groan and his hips bucked sharply, pushing the tip of his cock further into her just before a rush of sudden heat signaled that he had finished. His thrusts lessened but didn't still completely until Maisie pushed him away, her body too sensitive to handle anything else. She pulled his lips to hers, the first thought coming to her mind the question of if they had made a child just now.

  Grant stretched out next to her and pulled her snugly against his chest, pressing a kiss to her brow. He had a smile on his lips.

  “I still want my house,” Maisie said into the comfortable silence that followed. Grant's laughter echoing around the room was the sweetest sound she could imagine.

  THE END

  Bonus Story 27 of 40

  Changing the Game

  Alison had always been a rather nervous person, and so as she sat in her car staring at her childhood home with a sort of anxious longing it was no surprise.

  She hadn’t been home for a while, perhaps longer than she would care to admit and it brought an ache to her heart remembering the last time she had been here.

  It was far from a pleasant memory, probably one of the worst she had, which was why she started to wonder if coming back was even a good idea at all.

  Mom promised they would respect her. She promised they understood her and wanted to make amends and although she hoped it was true, and pe
rhaps it was for her mom, she hardly thought it would be the case with her dad.

  Of course, she did understand their reaction. Giving birth to a son and raising him as one, only to find out he never felt like a boy at all and was actually a girl - well, she could understand.

  For her father who had always wanted a son, who felt like his dream had come true when she was born only to be denied years later, it must’ve been hard.

  Alison understood, but she wished they would understand her too. She wished they understood the feeling of being in a body that didn’t feel like your own. Of living a life that felt like a lie. There’s nothing more painful.

  Alison couldn’t lie anymore. She couldn’t pretend she was someone she wasn’t. So she told them she wasn’t Adam anymore and had never really been Adam at all to begin with, instead, she was Alison.

  Needless to say, what happened after that wasn’t something she wanted to dwell on. So she went back home and didn’t return. She went home and underwent hormone replacement therapy and after a while when she’d saved up enough, even underwent gender reassignment surgery.

  It had been a long and grueling process but one Alison wouldn’t change. Everything had led up to finally being in a body she belonged to, a body she felt comfortable in and she didn't need to surround herself with people who didn't understand.

  But here she was now, going back to the place she promised she’d never return to, and that in itself was enough to render anyone slightly nervous.

  Taking a deep breath, Alison climbed out of the car, shutting the door behind her with a dull thud. She wiped her sweaty palms on her jeans before taking another deep breath and heading up to the front porch.

  Usually, Alison wouldn’t bother to knock, hadn’t ever in her life, but things weren’t the same anymore so she swallowed her nerves and knocked, her fist connecting with the wood rather confidently despite her anxiety.

  She heard rustling on the other side as someone made their way to the door and Alison tried to calm her pounding heart that she was sure everyone would be able to hear.