Sliding Home: A Baseball Romance

by Lynsey M. Stewart

  12

  ‘Are you ready for breakfast?’ I asked as Jess came round from sleep. We had spent most of the night wrapped tightly together in between countless sessions of what could only be described as insatiable sex. We couldn’t get enough and our bodies showed the after effects when I looked down to see a hicky on her thigh.

  ‘That would be great,’ she said as she stretched, smiling coyly. ‘I’m so hungry.’

  ‘We worked up an appetite.’

  ‘An appetite for you,’ she replied, sitting up and letting the sheet drop down to reveal more of her body. I put my hand between her legs and pressed against the spot that was still swollen and wet. My cock sprung to life when images of our night together reignited my need for her.

  ‘I’m supposed to be getting breakfast,’ I said as she started palming me, her grip firm but lazy and just right for sedated morning sex. ‘Keep doing that and I’m going to fuck you in the shower.’

  ‘Promises, promises,' she said, laughing until I kissed her mouth and she met me hungrily. I groaned as the phone rang and let it go to answerphone. ‘You need to answer that?' she asked, her strokes becoming faster. ‘Does it look like I need to answer it? Keep going; I want you to make me come.' She shifted to her knees and bent down, taking my cock in her mouth and circling her hands all in perfect sync. The ringing stopped, the beep of the answerphone kicked in but the caller hung up.

  ‘Fuck, yes. Just like that.' I pulled her hair away so that I could see her mouth, and as I did, the phone rang again. She stopped, waiting for me, but I gently thrust into her mouth, encouraging her to continue circling the crown with her tongue. Her hands picked up speed, her mouth taking all of me in and as I rocked my hips, coming hard and fast and worshipping her face with my fingers. I barely heard Carl's voice leaving a message.

  ‘Kid, call me back as soon as you get this message. You need to fucking hear this.’

  13

  I left Jess back at the apartment and went out to get breakfast. She wanted pancakes with what she called the weird bacon and syrup combination. My diet plan didn’t allow me that indulgence, and with the ingredients in the fridge, the only breakfast I could rustle up was a kale smoothie. She’d reacted like I’d suggested she wash her hair with toothpaste.

  Remembering Carl’s message, I took a detour to his office before picking up the food. Diane, his assistant for the last twenty-five years and who reminded me of Mary Tyler Moore but with less hair, opened the door with a look of panic.

  ‘How’s my favourite assistant?’ I asked, holding out my arms. Usually, Diane would jump at the chance to give me some loving, but today she stood back, wringing her hands together. ‘Everything OK?’

  ‘Um, well, yes, I mean no.’ Her phone rang but she ignored it. I pointed to it in a gesture that reminded her it was her job to answer it. ‘They’ve been ringing all morning. It’s relentless,’ she said, picking the phone up and slamming it down again.

  ‘I'm pretty sure Carl would want you to answer that, sweetheart.'

  ‘He told me to ignore all calls until he gets back,’ she replied, jumping when the phone rang again.

  ‘You want to tell me what's going on?' Anxiety started to rise from the bottom of my back, up and around my sides until that familiar sense of dread passed through my body. My first thought was that I'd been dropped from the team entirely, a forgotten video of me sharing a teammate’s girlfriend coming to light and being the last straw.

  ‘Carl went to your apartment. He’s been frantic all morning, honey.’

  ‘He isn’t here?’ She shook her head. ‘Has something happened?’ She nodded. ‘You’re not making this easy. Is it bad?’ I waited for her to react and I was about to lose it when she replied with a shaky yes.

  14

  ‘Carl,’ I shouted as I got to my apartment. The door was unlocked; I presumed Jess had let him in. When I ran through to the living room, he was sitting on the couch with his head in his hands and Jess was nowhere to be seen. ‘What the fuck is going on?’

  ‘I had such high hopes for you, kid. I finally thought we were back on track. I was so fucking proud,’ he said, taking a deep breath and shaking his head solemnly. ‘You’ve worked hard; no one can take that away from you, but I have no idea how we’re gonna turn this one around.’

  ‘They've dropped me, haven't they? Fuck, I knew it. Why?'

  ‘Simple. You’ve made the wrong fucking choices,’ Carl replied.

  ‘Is someone selling a story? Is it another video to fuck me over?’

  ‘You could say that, kid,’ he said, reaching for his laptop. ‘Sit.’ He motioned for me to come over by patting the couch beside him. My stomach was in knots as he started typing. I didn't want to watch myself fucking another girl; the thought alone made me want to be physically sick. I leant over as a film started to play. I couldn't bring myself to look but I could hear voices, more than one girl—shit—I'd had plenty of threesomes. I started to shake; my life flashed before my eyes. What the fuck was I going to do now? Baseball had been my life for the last thirteen years; there was nothing else. I was twenty-four years old and had no idea what I was going to do with my life if I was dropped. Writing a book of memoirs and touring seedy clubs to talk about my previous sexcapades would be my only option.

  I didn't recognise the girl on camera. I knew I’d never seen her before, let alone fucked her. ‘What the hell is this?' I said, sitting back on the couch and closing my eyes in frustration. I wondered if it had been filmed when I was so drunk I didn't know what the fuck I was doing, which was more than possible because it happened often.

  Carl plonked the laptop on my knees. ‘You wouldn't remember it, kid; you weren't fucking there.'

  I looked down, expecting to see myself in a drunken stupor being sucked on by a girl I didn’t know, but it wasn’t me I saw on the screen.

  It was Jess.

  15

  ‘I loved your plan. Thought you had come up with PR gold, but you had to go and choose a fucking porn star! The wholesome girlfriend, your first love from England who has put you on the straight and narrow has been outed as a lesbian!’ Carl yelled.

  I was experiencing confusion and arousal at the same time. Jess filled the screen in thigh highs and black lace panties. She was wearing a man's shirt that left little to the imagination, unbuttoned to show a peek of her breasts, minus my hicky but still looking super hot. Jess was laughing as the camera panned in and out, each time showing a flash of thigh, a tempting piece of ass and an accidental nipple flash. She looked to be on top of a high-rise building, the sun setting behind her; she looked mesmerising. The film was shot in black and white but the light shone through highlighting her bright hair, porcelain skin and displaying her uniqueness in the most beautiful way.

  The scene shifted to a bathroom where a woman was submerged in a bath full of bubbles with Jess sitting on the side. She leaned over the bath to kiss the brunette. The camera focused on their kiss. The brunette gently squeezed Jess' ass, making it wet and foamy from the bubbles before snaking up to her breast where she pulled her shirt aside and gently traced her finger across her skin. The camera moved to Jess' face, which was peaceful, and serene, her lips slightly parted. It stayed there as the brunette climbed out of the bath and both of them fell to their knees, Jess kissing the woman's stomach as the camera panned down. Jess gazed up at the lens, her lip between her teeth before breaking out into the smile I knew so well. It was artsy and fun, teasing but classy, and beautiful to watch, like a high-end fashion house promo.

  She radiated beauty because she was completely uninhibited and free.

  And she looked fucking glorious.

  Carl lit his second cigar. ‘I'm assuming you didn't know about this,' he said. I shook my head. ‘I asked her, kid. When we finalised the contract, I asked if there was anything she had done that could come out and damage your reputation even further. She said no. She obviously didn't feel the need to disclose lesbian porn.'

  ‘Carl, she looks bea
utiful.’ She looked more than beautiful. She was fucking captivating. Rather than feeling angry, embarrassed or disappointed as Carl assumed I should, I felt proud, so proud that the captivating woman in that beautiful piece of film was mine.

  ‘Kid, a girl is this close to sucking on her tit.’

  ‘She looks sublime.’

  ‘I don’t give a fuck how she looks! Can you not see how this will ruin everything?’

  ‘No, I can’t.'

  ‘We’ve told your fans that you’re childhood sweethearts. We’ve painted her more wholesome than Doris fucking Day. Now I’m gonna have to explain why she’s almost finger fucking a girl in a bathroom, for Christ’s sake!’

  ‘Get the fuck out, Carl. No one speaks about her like that!’ I spat, standing up to match his stare. I noticed paper on the floor by the coffee table. I picked it up to see that it was Jess’ contract ripped in two. ‘What have you done? Where is she?’

  ‘Oh my God,’ he laughed bitterly, his shoulders bobbing up and down in the cheap suit that was a size too big. ‘Don’t tell me you’ve fallen in love with her?’

  ‘Where. Is. She.’

  ‘She’s gone. I told her that she’s just ruined your career and we didn’t need her services anymore.’

  ‘Don’t fucking go there, Carl!’

  ‘What? She’s obviously comfortable whoring herself for money. It wasn’t the first time,’ he said, ducking as I lunged for him.

  ‘What did you fucking watch? That wasn't porn; it was art.'

  ‘Try explaining that to the commissioner.’

  ‘I’ve worked my ass off. I’m the fittest I’ve been in months. I’ve stopped the partying, the drinking, the fucking around. I’ve kept my side of the bargain. If the league decide to kick me out because of Jess, I don’t want to be part of it anyway.’ I took my phone from my pocket and rang Jess but it went straight to voicemail. ‘Where’s she gone?’ Carl laughed and something inside of me snapped. I gave a clean punch and watched as he fell backwards.

  ‘Jesus Christ!’ He clutched his nose and scrambled on his ass towards the door. ‘You’ve lost your fucking mind!’

  ‘Where the fuck is she?’

  ‘By now, she'll be at the airport. I got her a one-way ticket back to London.'

  ‘Get out, asshole. You're fucking fired!' I shouted, pulling him up by his jacket and pushing him out the door. I could still hear him shouting as I tried to call her again. Voicemail kicked in and I was ready for a breakdown. I listened to her voice telling me to leave a message and everything inside started to shake. ‘Jess, it's me; it's Brad. I've seen the video and you look so fucking beautiful. Amazing. I know Carl said this would ruin things, but it doesn't. It doesn't ruin anything. I want you here with me. Please come back. If you don't, I'm coming for you. I'll get the next flight. I'll fucking swim. I love you, Jess.'

  I threw myself down on the couch and shouted out in anger, only stopping when I heard a knock at the door. If Carl was behind it, I wasn't sure I could control myself and a broken nose would become the least of his worries. I opened the door quickly, ready to lay into him, but I found Jess standing there, her phone to ear, mascara around her eyes where she was sobbing, her jumper pushed down over her hands as she wiped away her tears. I pulled her into me, cradling her head with my hands, stroking her hair, instinctively rocking her, telling her to stop crying and that everything was going to be fine.

  ‘I was already on my way back when I listened to your message. I was going to explain everything and if you were still mad at me, I would have left, but at least I would have heard it from you. Then, to hear you say it didn't matter…' She started sobbing again. ‘I'm sorry I've ruined things. Carl kept saying it was porn. It's not; it was just something I did because I needed the money. I couldn't get work; I was failing auditions and a friend who was getting into photography and video work asked me if I'd do it. It was a showreel for him. I never thought it would come out.'

  ‘Jess, you looked stunning.’

  ‘You saw it?’ She sniffed. ‘All of it?’

  ‘All of it,’ I replied. ‘It doesn’t matter. None of it matters.’

  ‘Did you punch Carl? I saw him leave clutching his nose.’ I nodded and she gasped. ‘Just like Pretty Woman.’ I pushed her chin up with my thumb and started kissing her neck; lightly at first but it quickly turned to biting, and the biting turned to kissing, and at that moment, I didn't care about making the team, returning to baseball or resurrecting my career. All I cared about was her and that she was back, and the biggest fight in my life would be never letting her go again.

  I'd been afraid she would become a complication, but she hadn’t. How could she? Jess was my affirmation, my reawakening, and the biggest part of the resurgence of a life that had simply stopped still. I had been afraid to face the aspects that scared the shit out of me. Would I be able to play again? What would I do if I couldn't? Alcohol had numbed the ability to even think about answering those questions.

  Jess had helped me find the answers.

  I felt on top of the world with her in my arms, as if I could do anything, be anyone; maybe even be me again. Fear had been holding me back, fear that I couldn’t find it in me to beat the injury, get back to the top of the majors and start hearing the cheers of the crowds again.

  And now, with Jess in my arms, I knew it was finally time to slay the fear.

  Epilogue

  Five months later.

  The roar of the crowd never got tiring.

  Aside from the noises Jess made when I’d bring her to orgasm, the cheers of the fans would always be my favourite sound.

  I’d missed it.

  But I was back.

  I went to see Peter Winkleman at the Office of the Commissioner of Baseball the week after I fired Carl. My personal trainer, physiotherapist, and the coach of the Falcons joined me in the meeting, backing up the progress I was making and helping me put a case together for why I should still be considered for the team at the start of the new season. The commissioner agreed that my progress had been startling and I was allowed back. I started training with the team in the New Year and I'd never been happier.

  I confessed that Jess was hired to help smooth over the cracks of my reputation, but that somewhere along the way, we had fallen in love. My team fell in love with her too, and because of that, they fought her corner. The film that Jess had been part of over two years ago was big news for a few weeks but soon faded away when we made it clear that we were serious about each other.

  We couldn’t have made it any clearer.

  She ran into my arms after the first game of the season, a game that, at one point, I didn’t think I would be part of. She grasped my ass, couldn’t resist me in the uniform, before pulling back.

  ‘Baseball Brit, he's well fit; throw the ball and he'll make the hit!' Jess was dressed as a cheerleader, shaking pom-poms and laughing. She still hadn't ironed out all the differences between American football and baseball but she looked fucking adorable, so I was willing to let it go.

  ‘Can you keep the outfit on for when we get home?’

  ‘Don't you think you've done enough damage?' she said, smiling as she cradled the bump that was getting bigger every day. We discovered she was pregnant just before I started training with the Falcons again. I bent down and kissed her stomach just above her hands where she was cradling our child.

  ‘Never enough,’ I whispered.

  Acknowledgments

  Thank you to Abbie Lee at Duckman Proofreading.

  A huge thank you to Karin Enders, Ann Walker, Jessica Fadden and Megan Damrow for helping me slide the book home. (Ba dum tss) Your comments, support and encouragement got me to this point.

  About the Author

  About Lynsey

  Lynsey M. Stewart enjoys writing stories about characters that experience a few bumps in the road before finding their happily ever after (also known as contemporary romance with plenty of heat). She lives with her husband, her soul mate and muse, along
with their gorgeous, precious, ridiculously independent little girl. Lynsey began writing after being inspired by great books, amazing writers and wonderful stories that she couldn’t stop thinking about long after reading the last word. If she’s not writing, you can usually find her with her head in a book or singing along to music. She’s hopeless, but she enjoys pretending to be Adele every once in a while.

  Find Lynsey on:

  www.lynseymstewart.com

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