MVP (The MVP Duet Book 2)

by Laramie Briscoe

  “Just like you have nothing to worry about, there’s nobody else I want in these arms besides you.” He yawns loudly, scrubbing his face with his hands. “I don’t know about you, but I’m tired.”

  “I am too; I haven’t slept well without you.”

  He stands up, holding me in his arms. “Then let’s go nap together. When we wake up, the world will look like a whole different place. Where we’ll be happy with each other and the stresses of the past few weeks won’t matter.”

  I give him a grin, leaning in to capture his lips with mine. “I like the sound of that.”

  And as I situate myself around him in our bed, I breathe easy for the first time in a long time.

  Nineteen

  Malone

  Playoffs

  “Hit me a homer, Savage,” I tell my husband as he goes to leave the penthouse.

  He turns around, offering me a smile as he walks back across the sleek floor to me. Since our argument a few weeks ago, we’ve made it a point to be nicer to one another, to try and understand what the other person is going through, and just to honestly be the spouse we should be. Seems so easy, but when you’re thinking of nothing but yourself, it’s actually really hard.

  “I’ll hit you more than one, baby.” He cups my jawline, pulling me in for a kiss.

  For a few minutes, I allow myself to indulge in the taste of him. Letting the two of us get lost in the heat of a kiss we’ve perfected over the last year.

  “Hit me enough to take home this win and put us in the World Series.” I grab hold of his shirt, hugging him tightly. “I’m so glad this last game is here.”

  He curls his arm around my neck. “I am too, babe. Sorry that our families can’t be here for either this or the Series.”

  Both of our families are knee-deep in stuff at home with both the farms, and neither one of them really like traveling. Especially our mothers. But I know they’re glued to the TVs and I’ll be texting them throughout the games to keep them apprised of anything going on.

  “That’s why you have me here. Your own personal cheering squad, and Susie’s meeting us there tonight too.”

  The grin that spreads across his face is playful. “I love when she allows herself to be a part of my life. She thinks I do all these things for her, but really I do them for her and me. Throughout the season and while I’m here, she treats me like a son, and sometimes you just need that parental figure. Mine will never leave Georgia, they love it there too much, have more to do there than they ever will here. They aren’t made for living in the city, and honestly, I’d never try to force that on them either. So it’s nice to have her when I need her.”

  “Susie is very special, and I’m glad she decided to come with us tonight.” I hug him tightly, knowing he misses his family, but also knowing he does what he has to do to get the job done, which is turn off all those emotions when it would be easier to give into them.

  “I gotta go.” He taps my hip. “I’ll see you after the game.”

  “See you after you become the division champ!”

  “From your mouth to God’s ears, babe. This is our year, I feel it.”

  I don’t have to add that I feel it too.

  This game has been a nail biter. We’re tied and we’re in the bottom of the ninth. I feel like I could puke, even though I haven’t eaten much today. I’ve been too nervous. JD just got a base hit and now it’s Slade’s turn to bat. We’re all on our feet, everybody in the stadium is standing, screaming, praying that he can pull out the win for us.

  “I’m so nervous.” I grab hold of Felicity’s hand on one side and Susie’s hand on the other. “This will kill him if he doesn’t at least get a base hit.”

  The pressure is enormous and I’m not even the one standing in the batter’s box. This is all on him. Sometimes I wonder how he handles it, how he manages to compartmentalize it all, when it would bring a lesser man to his knees. In the quiet of the night, I’ve asked him, and he just responds with that cute smile of his, that this is his dream. There’s no way he could do anything else.

  As I watch the pitches, I feel like my heart is about to burst. It’s thudding so loudly, I’m sure everyone around us can hear it. There’s also this feeling of passing out, like I’m about to hit the ground and I’m not sure when I’m going to come back up.

  “He’s got this,” Felicity tells me as the next pitch goes over the plate, and I watch Slade swing with everything he’s got.

  He doesn’t start running, he watches the ball as it lifts, lifts, lifts. “Is it too high?” Susie asks beside me.

  “I don’t know.” I’m scared, fearful it’s not going to make it over the wall. I watch as the opposing team’s right-fielder makes a run, leaps onto the wall and puts his glove over the back part. We’re all holding our breaths, but when he comes down, he doesn’t have a baseball in his glove. He hangs his head in defeat, and that’s when the place goes absolutely batshit crazy.

  Never in my life have I heard so many people screaming, yelling, and having such a good time. Slade is running the bases, pumping his arms, a smile on his face like I’ve never seen. JD is in front of him doing the same thing.

  “C’mon!” Felicity grabs my hand. “Let’s get down there!”

  I’m not even sure where we’re going, but like I have since I came here, I trust her to get me where I need to be. We all wear passes and as the security sees them, he lets us go through. The players are all celebrating, hats and t-shirts are being handed out. Shirts are thrust in our direction and all of us quickly put them on over the ones we wear right now.

  Out of nowhere, strong arms come around me and I’m crushed to a massively built body. “I love you.”

  I grin when I hear Slade’s voice, and that’s when the tears come. I turn in his arms, hugging him tightly, telling him how proud I am of him. How I love that he did this at home, and the city is proud of him too. How he’s overcome everything he’s had to deal with in his life.

  “I just love the fuck outta you.” I lean in; kissing him once he picks me up by the ass and puts me around his waist so that we’re eye level.

  “I love you too, sweetness. This wouldn’t have happened if you weren’t here. I believe that with everything I have. You are the good luck charm I’ve always needed.”

  “Not this beard?” I ask, running my nails through stubble that’s turned into a short beard. Since they won their first playoff game, none of them have shaved.

  “No, baby, this is one hundred percent you. I’m still unsure if I believe in superstitions, but if I had shaved, the guys would have killed me. All part of being a leader.”

  He kisses me hard, passionate, a little rough, and all Savage, before we’re interrupted by a reporter and we’re forced to separate. Not gonna lie, I kind of hate her and her job right now, but I want Slade to get all the attention he deserves. He works hard, and I want the entire world to know it.

  “I don’t know about you, but I’m starving,” he says two hours later as we pull out of the family parking lot at the stadium.

  “Me too.” My stomach growls at the mention of food.

  He’s still dressed in his uniform, wearing a National League Championship shirt over his normal shirt, the same kind of hat on his head. Hell, he still has the black marks under his eyes to help dull the glare from the lights.

  “Let’s go get something,” he says impulsively.

  “Are you sure? Aren’t you worried about fans? I could go in and get us something, somewhere.”

  “No.” He shakes his head. “I kinda want to celebrate with the city tonight, and I kinda want some hashbrowns smothered and covered.”

  I laugh loudly. “You’re in the World Series and you’re going to break your diet with Waffle House?”

  “Yes,” he answers, a big smile on his face. “I think sometimes indulging is worth it, and this is a time for indulgence.”

  We park at the nearest one to our house, and we walk in, him still wearing his cleats. All talk stops when
people get a good look at us, and then loud cheers go up, a place at the bar is cleared for us, and the coolest thing happens. He isn’t asked for a ton of autographs, they all just want to talk about the game. How they sat at home watching it, or at the bar while drinking. We’re handed the food we ordered, and Slade just sits there, glowing under the praise of these regular people who have no idea what he’s gone through to be the Franchise Player of this team.

  As I eat my food, I realize what we’re living right now is exactly what it’s all about, and as we leave, having paid for the food of everyone in the place, I feel good. Good about where we are, good about the future, and good about all the decisions I’ve made leading up to this moment.

  “I love you, Savage.” I kiss him as he helps me into my SUV.

  “Love you too, sweetness.”

  As we drive home in the early morning light, I realize this is the best night I’ve had since I came to live in Birmingham, and I have the man sitting next to me to thank for it.

  Twenty

  Savage

  October – Game one of the World Series

  “How nervous are you?” Malone asks as we lie in bed. Team rules dictate that we’re supposed to either be by ourselves or have a roommate. JD and I have circumvented that by getting the girls a room, and quietly sneaking in the middle of the night. We haven’t done this since high school, and I have to admit, it was fun. They got here a few hours after we did, so it allowed us to be stealthy. It’s early morning and if I’m honest I haven’t gotten much sleep since we won the Division. We’ve never been to the Big Game before, even with me being the MVP the last season I played, we didn’t make it. This is unknown territory for me. I’m hovering between excited and scared to death. What if we don’t win? What if we do? Right now it’s all causing an anxiety I’ve never felt before.

  This season has been a dream; one I never thought would come true. I especially didn’t think I would make it after what happened with my knee last season. Yet here I am, four wins away from a ring that isn’t one Malone put on my finger.

  But it’s about so much more than the ring. It’s about respect, honor, the belief that I’m good enough to be able to win it. I’ve been called a Franchise Player since I was drafted, but I’ve heard the snickers, heard the non-believers who like to pretend they know what’s going on in my life and in my head. Listened to them talk, not so quietly about how I should never have gotten the contract I did, but none of them are in the position I’m in right now. None of the have the opportunity or the option to take home the most coveted trophy in baseball within the next four games. Nor will they possibly be able to do it in front of a home crowd. The first two games for us are away, and then we’ll move back to Birmingham for the next.

  Austin is a tough city to play in, and I know we’ve got our work cut out for us. They’re as hungry as we are, but I don’t think they have the depth of talent we do.

  “Very,” I finally answer Malone. She’s stroking my chest and stomach as we cuddle in the near darkness. The way her nails are moving along my skin is relaxing me, not enough to lull me back to sleep, but just enough to let me continue to rest. “They’re a tough team; this is an even tougher crowd. Are you sure you don’t want to sit up in the box tonight?”

  “I don’t like any of the women up there. I like to be closer to you, to see your face, to know what you’re thinking. If I’m down there, all you have to do is turn around and see me. As long as I have Felicity with me, I’m good,” she assures me, as she lifts up on one elbow. “You look really tightly wound though, Savage.”

  I tilt my head back, gazing up at the ceiling, as I let a sigh leave my body. Every bit of nerves, fear, and excitement has all my muscles rock hard. I’m trying hard to relax, but this is an uphill battle. “That’s because I am, sweetness.”

  “Well…” The look she gives me is saucy. “Maybe there’s something we can do about that.”

  Her hand snakes down into the covers, grasping hold of what is now a semi. I groan loudly, spreading my legs as she moves her hand up and down my cloth-covered cock. My eyes drift shut as I feel her use her other hand to pull the waistband down. “Fuck, sweetness.” I thread my fingers through her hair, holding on tightly. “There’s something you need to know about me, that you may not have realized in the Playoffs.”

  “What’s that?” she asks, sucking on the skin of my neck, biting with sharp teeth, and then licking to cool the burn.

  “Big games, really big games-” I thrust my hips up into her hand, “-make me supremely horny. I don’t know what it is about it. Maybe what’s at stake? I’m not sure, but for this whole week, I’ll probably be a walking hard-on.”

  She giggles deep in her throat, and fuck if that doesn’t make my cock jump in her grip. “Sounds like a lot of fun for me.”

  The breath is knocked from my chest as she dives in, covering my hard length with her mouth, sucking the way she knows I like it. A litter harder than necessary, a little rougher than necessary.

  “Fuckin’ hell.” I thrust up into her tight warmth, my eyes rolling back in my head.

  I shift my hips against the mattress as I feel the heat of her mouth against my skin. She’s blowing my mind as she blows my dick, going after it in a way I’ve never felt her go after me before. Panting, I brace one of my hands against the headboard, using it for leverage to fuck her mouth.

  “That’s it,” I encourage her. “Get it wet, twirl your tongue around it, suck so hard those cheeks of yours hollow.” I tilt my head back for a second, closing my eyes against the show she’s giving, because I’m going to blow way too fast if I don’t.

  Exhaling deeply, I feel like I have my shit together when she takes me down in one smooth glide, my cock hitting the back of her throat, and then she gives this moan that I’ve never heard from her before. It ignites something in my body, and I know without a doubt I’m done.

  “Sweetness, I’m coming,” I warn her, but she doesn’t back off, doesn’t let up. She takes me again, as I feel the climax run through my body. The first spurts go straight down her throat, but then she releases me, her hand jacking me furiously through the rest of them. Heat spreads through my groin as I spill onto my skin, as I gasp, grunt and thrust my way through it, my heels seeking purchase on the sheets as I run my hands through my own hair, grasping at the ends. My mouth is wide open, but no sound coming out, until I feel the last jerk and that’s when I let out an amazed oh.

  I’m fucking wrecked as I lie back against the pillows, panting.

  “Hopefully you’ll be relaxed enough to play an amazing game of baseball tonight.” She gives me a wink as she gets up from the bed, shaking her ass as she walks into the bathroom.

  “I need a nap and a shower.” My voice is deeper than normal, guttural with a side of gravel - damn she’s done a number on me.

  “Maybe we can shower together?” She throws the shirt she had been wearing in my direction.

  Just like that, the tiredness is gone, and I’m chasing her into the bathroom, most thoughts of the upcoming game have dissipated as well.

  Malone

  “This is insanity,” I tell Felicity as we make our way into the Austin stadium. We have a security escort, and I feel a nervousness like I’ve never felt before. Even though this is my first away game, I know a security escort isn’t the norm.

  “I know, I’m kind of unsure about this. The looks we’re getting are downright hateful. Maybe we should spend the night in the box with the wives we don’t like,” she suggests, her eyebrows raised.

  “No.” I shake my head. “I like being out in the stands. That way if Slade needs to see me, he can. He always knows where I’m sitting.”

  I refuse to let these people intimidate me. It’s not going to happen, not after it’s taken him and me this long to get here. We take our seats, and I feel as if we’re on some sort of display. We’re even booed by a few people, but I tell myself this is the type of stuff our guys deal with all the time. If they can deal with it all
the time, we can take it for a few hours. Fuck it. We will take it for a few hours because that’s what you do for the people you love. You do the uncomfortable shit, do the things you don’t really want to do, and you do them with a damn smile on your face.

  We scream loudly as our guys are introduced, trying to make up for the boos they’re hearing. “Damn, they really hate them here, don’t they?” she questions as we have a seat.

  “Yeah, but that’s the way of this. You haven’t been on any of the road trips, so you aren’t used to it. They rise to these sort of occasions.” Felicity gives me the pep talk I need.

  Three hours and nine innings later, our guys emerge as the winners of the first game. Slade’s gaze searches for me, and when it finds me, he holds up a finger.

  “That’s one.”

  I hold up a finger to him too, giving him my brightest smile. Feeling nervous as we’re again escorted from our seats, I can’t wait to get back home. I would much more prefer us to have the crowd who actually wants us around.

  Twenty-One

  Malone

  Game Two of the World Series

  Today he’s not the one nervous, instead it’s me. Last night was one of the most nerve-racking nights of my life as I waited to see if they would pull out the win and seeming to be on display for the fans who don’t like us. It’s not that I don’t trust my husband and his teammates to know what they’re doing, it’s that there’s just so much riding on this. A whole season, so many long nights, arguments, missed meals, FaceTime calls, and the dedication all the guys and the people who love them have put into this. If they don’t win, I’m not sure I can take it. I want this more for them than I do myself, but I want it for me too.