by Olivia Brynn
It only took two strokes before his end rushed on him and his balls tightened. His spine tingled then sent ribbons of pleasure back up to his brain. He swore, then released his control and sent thick ropes of white against her red silk panties. It took a few deep breaths before he could let go of his dick and ease her from his lap.
Not many women liked being covered in cum. He grabbed his tee shirt to clean her and opened his mouth to apologize, but before he could say a word, she trailed one finger through his ejaculate. He watched for a few moments, enraptured. As she played with his most intimate gift, he looked into her eyes and met a sly smile.
Tyler shook his head. “Nothing ever goes as planned when you’re around.”
“Oh?” She painted a nipple with his seed. “Why don’t you show me what you planned?”
He would. As soon as he kissed her.
* * * * *
Jaycee tugged her ball cap lower over her brow. After an hour of drills, Donnell had put two girls in the outfield with Kent Strapford in center as they ran through the roster for batting practice. She loved softball, but all she could think about right now was a shower and a cold beer. In that order. After spending most of yesterday and then last night with Tyler, she didn’t think she’d be that anxious to get him alone, but she was. Each congratulatory slug in the arm felt like a kiss, and she could have melted into a puddle when he held her hand in the dugout. Tyler’s friends didn’t bat an eye. She’d even been invited to Donnell’s girlfriend’s house for pink poker night, which had yet to be explained.
“Not in front of the boys, y’all!” Teesha shushed the other girls’ giggles, and gave Jaycee a wink. “I’ll explain it all later.”
They exchanged phone numbers and Teesha regaled her with questions about living in a sorority house.
As she turned to face home plate, she saw Shanay climb up to a seat in the nearly empty stands. She smiled and waved at Teesha, then scanned the players. Her eyes remained on Jaycee longer than the others, but she didn’t scowl or flip her off, she just clapped and cheered the next batter.
“Hey,” Kent shouted. “We got a lefty up. Move over.” He used his glove to motion toward the foul line.
That lefty was Tyler. He stood at home plate and made a big show of warming up.
“No way,” Jaycee hollered back. “This lefty hits center field every time. It’s Louis who veers left.”
The first pitch. Tyler swung and missed.
“He’ll go even farther left if you’re standing center,” Kent patronized. “He can hit ’em hard. Play up a little and you can be my cutoff.”
Jaycee snorted. A completely unladylike sound, but covered in sweat and dressed like a boy, she thought it fitting. “Why don’t you let me catch it and I’ll skip the cutoff?”
“Be my guest.” Kent’s tone proved that he didn’t think she was capable. Jaycee didn’t know anyone on her team, and they’d been treating her like a newbie since she put on the new ball cap. She didn’t mind, especially when Tyler stood behind her to show her the best way to grip the bat. She even asked a lot of questions about hand placement to keep him there. Her double entendres didn’t go unnoticed, and he finally walked away from her to get his athletic cup.
From home plate, Tyler adjusted that package and dug his cleats into the dirt.
The runner on first was tucking in his shirt, obviously prepared to sprint. The first baseman started waving Jaycee toward the third-base line. Since she wasn’t going to argue with the guy, she feigned ignorance and waved back, planting herself fifty feet behind the shortstop.
Another great pitch by Donnell, and another swing and a miss by his brother. Tyler’s friends hooted, Donnell held on to his hat, complaining of the sudden wind. Before the next pitch, Tyler stepped out of the box and very theatrically pointed at the empty spot in left field, well over her head.
“Aw, look at Babe Ruth, calling his shot!” Kent laughed, then cupped his hand to shout at Tyler. “Twenty bucks says you can’t!”
Amongst more ribbing and general sanity questions, Tyler stepped back into the box.
“Back up, he’s going for it,” Kent moved closer, but Jaycee kept her eyes on Tyler.
“Nuh uh.”
“I’ve got twenty riding on this—” Whatever he was going to say was cut off when the next pitch went right down the pipe.
Tyler’s swing was dead on, but too dead on to get any height. Whether it was his eyes on her in the outfield, or just plain dumb luck, the line drive hit her mitt, and she had it in hand to hurl toward first before Tyler could drop the bat. Ross looked at the ball in his glove for a split second before coming to his senses and stepping on the base. The first-base runner stood three steps off first, his mouth wide, hands up in a disbelieving gesture.
Double play.
The rest of the team stopped where they were and stared. First at Tyler who had only made it halfway to first, then at Jaycee. The first baseman took his glove off and shook his hand, his forehead wrinkled in shock. Only then did Jaycee smile, grab her crotch in true Major League fashion, and fake a loogie on the grass.
“Holy shit.” Ken laughed.
“What the hell was that?” Tyler stormed out of the infield and onto the grass, looking very much like an angry head coach on a bad call. If it weren’t for the spark of pride behind his eyes, Jaycee might have been a bit afraid.
Jaycee threw her mitt down and sauntered toward him, her hands on her hips. “I think that’s called a double play. Need to look that one up, big shot?”
Tyler shook his head, his grin lethal. “Oh no. You didn’t.”
“I think I did.”
She squealed, but it was too late. Before she knew it, she was on the ground, rolling beneath Tyler, dodging his pinching and tickling fingers. All along he murmured his pride in her play and whispered naughty things he would do to her later that night.
Jaycee blushed and prayed no one else could hear.
The grass was cool and Tyler’s body put off an amazing amount of heat. Jaycee wasn’t sure which extreme she reached for, but she tangled her legs with his to get the upper hand. Her laughter was smothered by his mouth and drowned out by their teammates’ cheers.
“The mighty Tyler has fallen!”
“Someone hose them down or they’ll get stuck!”
“Get a room!”
Finally, when her hat had been thoroughly tangled in her ponytail, Tyler caged her beneath him as he crouched on hands and knees.
“Are you sorry?” He winked.
Jaycee reached up to brush a few blades of grass from his shoulder. “I think you’re the one who’s sorry. You owe Kent twenty dollars.”
“I never agreed to that.”
Kent disagreed, and as Tyler helped her to stand, the rest of the team offered their opinions and congratulated Jaycee on the play.
They packed up the equipment and Jaycee tucked her glove under an arm and downed the rest of her water. Even lukewarm it felt damn good.
“Want to come for a beer with us?” Teesha mopped sweat from her brow and stuffed the towel in the bag on Donnell’s shoulder. “We usually hit the showers and meet at Lucky’s on forty-seventh.”
Jaycee looked to Tyler, but before either of them could answer, Shanay stepped into the group and Teesha turned the focus on her.
“You comin’, Shay? Beer at Lucky’s?”
“Sounds good,” Shanay answered. “Just one though, I have to study tonight.” She turned to Jaycee. “That was a nice play.”
Jaycee’s eyes snapped up, almost afraid to take the compliment, but the woman looked sincere and the other three were watching. “Thanks” was all she could come up with.
“You throw like a boy.”
Jaycee smiled and almost laughed. She could tell by Shanay’s expression that she wasn’t trying to offend. “Thanks again.”
“Who taught you to throw like that?”
The group moved toward the parking lot. Tyler slipped his hand around her waist, and just like
that, the tension receded.
“My dad coached a minor league team when I was growing up. With three brothers and baseball every day, I guess I didn’t have a choice.” She shrugged. “Never knew any different.”
“I think you stung Ross’ hand.” Donnell tossed his car keys in the air and caught them. “You didn’t tell me you grew up playing ball.”
“You’re full of surprises.” Tyler pulled her closer.
Teesha snickered. “Yeah, I’m glad you’re on our team.”
“And not the competition’s,” Donnell agreed, making Jaycee blush, though she swore it was exertion.
Shanay nudged Jaycee. “You’re going to Lucky’s for a drink?”
Was this a trick question? Jaycee hesitated for half a second before answering, “Yeah. I think. Well, with Tyler.”
“Good. I think I owe you a beer, I was pretty bitchy yesterday. See you there.”
The half-smile Tyler’s sister offered was probably the closest she’d get to an apology for her earlier behavior, but Jaycee would take it. Shanay didn’t seem like the type of person to hand them out often.
“I bet she never calls you Barbie again,” Tyler whispered in her ear as the group split to head for their vehicles. “I told you she’d settle down. Feel better?”
She did. Not only by surviving another encounter with Tyler’s sister without running, but the adrenaline after a good workout was something that Jaycee always reveled in. The burn in her legs from running bases earlier had turned to a simmer. The air-conditioning felt good, but it dried her sweat, making her feel even grimier. “I’ll feel great after a shower.”
“I have a small water heater. We’ll have to share.”
Jaycee grinned. “Sounds good to me.”
It sounded good in theory, but Tyler’s water heater wasn’t the only thing that was small. His shower barely fit him, and Jaycee wasn’t able to even lift her arms to shampoo. After much bumping and giggling, they finally got Tyler washed and he surrendered the cubicle to her. When she emerged from the bathroom fifteen minutes later, wearing his thick robe and rubbing a towel through her hair, she stopped short of entering his bedroom.
“It’s about time.” Tyler had propped himself up on the headboard and had his cock in hand, stroking it lazily. “I almost finished without you.”
Jaycee dropped the towel, then peeled the robe from her shoulders and took the three steps necessary to reach the foot of the bed. “I thought we were going out for a beer.” She couldn’t tear her eyes away from his strong hand wrapped around his stiff member.
“Are you in a hurry?”
She shook her head. “Not at all.”
“Good, because I’ve been at attention since you squirted shampoo in your hand.”
“Let’s see what I can do to make you rest at ease, Captain.” She climbed on the bed and got comfortable between his legs.
About the Author
Olivia Brynn is the spicy alter ego of romance author Alanna Coca. Always a voracious reader, Alanna began writing poetry in grade school, and short stories in high school. She started her first western romance years ago with a legal pad and pencil, often written in the wee hours of the morning when she needed something to do to relax. Before long the story lived on her computer desktop, where it sat patiently awaiting periodic visits from the reluctant writer. After her first book was published, she moved to romantic suspense, contemporary romance, and lets her alter ego Olivia write erotic novellas, but keeps the cowboys close to her heart. She loves to write stories to keep a reader guessing, and surprise them in the end. Alanna continues to write love stories, because who doesn’t love a happy ending?
Olivia welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email address on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.
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