Playing Ball

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Playing Ball Page 9

by Kerry Freeman


  Toby turned and gave him a sheepish smile. “Yeah. Toby Macmillan. Grandson. Sorry. Wasn’t trying to be all incognito or anything. I just didn’t think about it.”

  The look on Caleb’s face sat somewhere between “holy shit” and “oh my God,” so Toby leaned in a little closer. “Hey.” Caleb slowly focused on Toby’s face. “I’m not a spy. I’m not going to report back to the owner on your every move. Maybe if I saw you robbing old ladies on a street corner, but I don’t think that’s quite your style, is it?”

  Caleb relaxed visibly. “Nah. I’m more into card counting. Don’t take me to a casino.”

  Toby laughed as they climbed into his Accord. Once they were buckled in, Toby pulled out and headed toward downtown. “Have you eaten?”

  Caleb, who had been absorbed in watching the scenery go by—they’d just passed under the Olympic torch from the 1996 Games, which sat on a corner a few blocks from the ballpark—shook his head. “Not since breakfast. Like I said, I wasn’t really thinking about anything but getting here.”

  “There’s a pretty decent restaurant in the hotel, so we can hit that if you want.”

  Caleb turned his head then, blinking at Toby like he didn’t understand. “You want to have dinner together?”

  “Sure,” Toby said, stopping at a light. “Unless you have a fear of Macmillans, which would be a tough thing, working in this organization. Or maybe you’d just rather be alone to settle in—”

  “No!” Toby was surprised by Caleb’s vehemence at first, but then he realized he probably didn’t know a soul in town and would be happy for a little company. “Dinner’s great.”

  Toby nodded. “Okay.” He took the turn onto the interstate and accelerated to highway speed. “There are a couple of ways to get downtown without getting on the interstate, but most of the time, this is fastest. Only a few exits up and a couple of turns to the hotel.” He smiled Caleb’s way. “With any luck, you’ll find a place quickly and not have to do this again anyway.”

  Caleb sighed and dropped his head back against the seat back. “This is all just…. It’s like I’m gonna wake up and be back in a crappy little apartment in Double-A, you know? I haven’t been to Atlanta in years. I don’t have a clue where to start looking for a place.”

  Toby maneuvered around a slow-moving, beat-up pickup truck and changed lanes to head for the exit. “Call the front office tomorrow,” he urged. “They’ll take care of you. They have info on, like, furnished apartments, so you don’t even have to worry about that stuff right now.”

  Caleb chuckled. “Like I said, I barely even took time to pack. Didn’t have all that much but clothes with me in Mississippi anyway, but I left a couple boxes for Marvin to ship when I get an address for him to ship ’em to.”

  “Well, you’ll get set up fast.” Toby turned left at the end of the ramp and drove toward downtown, the late Sunday afternoon traffic all but nonexistent. “I’ll give you my number, too, in case you need any tips. I’m sure it’s a big adjustment. Good thing you have a few days to get settled before the team’s back in action. And then a home stand too.”

  He turned right onto Peachtree Street, watching from the corner of his eye as Caleb craned his neck to look up at the giant neon-lit guitar hanging on the front of the Hard Rock Cafe on the corner. He sure gave the impression of country-boy-come-to-town, though if Toby remembered correctly, he’d grown up in the Chicago suburbs of northwestern Indiana. Still, coming on the heels of almost ten years living in rural areas, first in college and then the minor leagues, Toby could understand the culture shock.

  Toby pulled into the drive in front of the hotel and stopped. “Hop on out and head inside to check in,” he suggested. “Be sure to tell them you’re with the team. I’ll get the car parked and meet you.”

  “Okay.” Caleb opened the door and unfolded himself from the car, pausing to grab his bags from the backseat before pushing the doors shut and heading inside. Toby elected to climb out there, too, and turned the car over to a valet in exchange for a claim check. He could’ve parked much cheaper on a surface lot nearby, but sometimes the convenience was worth it.

  Walking inside, Toby nodded to the staff members he passed and headed toward the registration desk, where Caleb stood talking to a clerk. Caleb passed over ID and a credit card as Toby arrived, and the clerk, a young woman who looked mildly familiar to Toby, did a double take and then smiled at Toby in recognition before entering information on the keyboard.

  “All set?” Toby leaned against the counter.

  “Will be in a minute.” Caleb shot Toby a quick grin. “Just the smell from the restaurant has me freakin’ starving. It’s been a long day.”

  “I bet.” Toby turned and tilted his head back to look up at the hotel atrium, rising some twenty stories above their heads. “I love this place. I’ve been coming here for all kinds of stuff as long as I can remember. Funny how the atrium never seems to get any smaller, even though I was a tiny thing the first time I remember seeing it.” He glanced around. “It looks a lot different at this level, though. They just renovated the place again the past couple of years.”

  “Here you go, Mr. Browning,” the clerk said, drawing Toby’s attention. “This is your room number, and you’re in the Atrium Tower. All elevators go to all floors. Enjoy your stay.”

  “Thanks so much.” Caleb turned, key card in hand, and grinned at Toby. “Let’s eat!”

  AN HOUR and a half later, stuffed with shrimp, grits, and peach cobbler, Toby set down his fork and leaned back in his seat. “That was….”

  “Amazing.” Caleb, still working on his own cobbler, grinned at Toby across the small table. The restaurant was nearly deserted except for them, the only sounds the soft clinking of dishes and the low piped-in music. A jolt went through Toby as he realized how date-like this all was.

  Not a date, he told himself. Just a friendly dinner to welcome the new player to town.

  But as Caleb smiled at him again, Toby saw the glint in his eyes. The way his gaze roamed Toby’s face. The way he leaned in, just a little, as if wanting to be closer.

  Toby knew that look. He’d seen it before, dozens of times, and politely ignored most of them.

  He just hadn’t expected to see it on someone like Caleb Browning.

  He had to be imagining things. Had to. He looked away, out into the empty lobby, anywhere but at the gorgeous man across the table, making happy sounds in his throat as he enjoyed the last of his dessert. No way was Caleb interested in Toby. The chances of him liking men at all were miniscule. The likelihood of him risking anyone finding out if he did? Practically nonexistent.

  Caleb finally set down his fork and wiped his mouth with the cloth napkin, which he dropped onto the table next to his empty plate. “That was amazing.” He smiled, eyes sparkling with warmth and satisfaction, though the way they drooped at the corners gave away his exhaustion. “If that’s any sample of the way Atlanta feeds you, I may have to step up my workout regimen.”

  Toby forced himself to relax and return the (friendly, he reminded himself) smile. “Extra warning track runs, for sure,” he agreed. “This place is good, but once you try the local places, the barbecue and the soul food, you’ll be hooked for life.”

  Caleb’s gaze softened. “I might be already,” he murmured. He didn’t seem to be talking about food anymore, but Toby couldn’t let himself think that. Instead, he pushed back his chair.

  “Let me get this,” he said, reaching for his wallet. “A ‘welcome to the bigs’ present.” He nodded to their server as he slid a credit card into the leather-bound portfolio, which was quickly whisked away.

  “You don’t have to do that,” Caleb tried to protest, but Toby just shook his head, his smile more natural.

  “No, really, it’s on me. Congratulations.”

  Caleb’s reluctance remained clear, but he didn’t say anything else as Toby signed off on their dinner. They stood and headed into the lobby in silence, but before they got far, Caleb stopped Toby wi
th a hand on his arm. Toby looked up at Caleb’s face and saw the same gleam in his eye that had given Toby pause a few minutes earlier.

  “Come up for a drink?”

  All the warning bells in Toby’s mind went off at once, but none of them were enough to stop him from doing what he did next. He followed Caleb into the elevator, rode up to the sixteenth floor beside him in silence, and then followed him down the hall to his room.

  Once inside, Caleb dropped his duffel on the dresser and moved toward the minibar, like he was actually going to make good on his nightcap offer. “Not sure what they have in here, but—”

  Toby didn’t let him get any further. He took three long steps, reached up to wrap one hand behind Caleb’s neck, and kissed the words right out of his mouth.

  Caleb’s lips were soft and dry, yielding easily to Toby’s insistent pressure and soon parting to allow Toby’s tongue inside. Caleb tasted like the mint he’d popped as they left the table downstairs, with a hint of sweetness from the tea he’d had with dinner and a deeper flavor of pure Caleb.

  Toby wondered if he tasted like that everywhere.

  Eager to find out, Toby slid his hands under the hem of Caleb’s T-shirt and pushed it up until it bunched under Caleb’s arms. Breaking reluctantly away from Caleb’s mouth, Toby bent to lick his nipple instead, hearing the hiss from above at the intimate touch. Caleb’s skin was saltier here, the remains of a long day of travel clinging to his body, and Toby took another, longer taste, wrapping his lips around the pebbling skin and sucking gently.

  “Holy shit, Toby.”

  Caleb shifted, and Toby saw his T-shirt go flying a second before Caleb grabbed Toby’s arms and turned them both, shoved Toby against the wall, and fell against him. Caleb sealed his mouth over Toby’s even as he worked his fingers under Toby’s shirt and let them roam across his skin. Toby kissed him back desperately, kneading at the strong muscles of Caleb’s back, muscles honed from years as an athlete who used his body well. Toby was no slouch, physically speaking, but he relished the few inches and couple dozen pounds Caleb had on him. Toby felt surrounded by Caleb but not overwhelmed, the give and take between them perfectly balanced.

  After breaking the kiss, Caleb pushed at Toby’s shirt, and Toby raised his arms to let Caleb strip it away like he’d done with his own. Caleb wrapped one arm around Toby’s body to pull their chests together and used his free hand to cup Toby’s ass so he could grind his pelvis into Toby’s. Toby groaned as Caleb licked across his jaw to his ear, where Caleb breathed out, “Jesus fuck, you’re hot.”

  Toby let out a strangled sound something like a laugh. “Nothing on you,” he managed, turning his head to capture Caleb’s mouth with his.

  They stumbled toward the bed, kicking off shoes and fighting with buckles and zippers, hands exploring every new inch of skin they exposed. When Toby got his hands into the back of Caleb’s jeans and realized he was wearing a jockstrap, he took full advantage, grabbing a double handful of muscular ass and squeezing a moan right out of Caleb’s mouth.

  Toby pulled away long enough to slide onto the mattress and draw Caleb down on top of him, groaning at the weight pressing him into the mattress. Caleb cupped Toby’s face in his big hands and kissed him hard, driving his tongue in deep, and Toby opened his mouth and let Caleb all the way inside.

  He opened his legs, too, lifting his knees to bracket Caleb’s hips, the shift in position bringing their hard cocks together with just two thin layers of cotton left between them. Toby moaned into Caleb’s mouth, the sound echoed back to him as Caleb slid one hand down to cup Toby’s leg and pulled it tighter against Caleb’s body. Toby took the hint, bringing his other leg up to wrap behind Caleb’s thighs and lifting his pelvis to grind up into him.

  Toby lost track of how long they stayed like that, kissing and grinding against each other, before Caleb wrenched himself away. “God,” Caleb growled. “I want to be inside you, like, yesterday.”

  Panting, Toby nodded. “You got stuff?”

  “Shit. I hope so.”

  Caleb levered himself away from Toby and off the bed, then dove into his discarded duffel bag. Toby used the break to get rid of his underwear and brought one hand up to stroke his hard-as-nails dick while he watched Caleb’s ass and thigh muscles bunch under his smooth, pale skin. With a few moments to look his fill, Toby could see the tan line at Caleb’s waist and a lighter one halfway down his thigh, evidence of shirtless workouts and off days in shorts. Central Mississippi was even more hot and humid than Atlanta, so Toby imagined Caleb didn’t bother with more clothing than he had to.

  Toby had no objections to that idea. At all.

  When Caleb turned back around, condoms in one hand and lube in the other, Toby let his gaze roam over his front side, and he liked what he saw. A lot. Caleb had almost no hair on his chest, but a riot of reddish-brown curls sprung to life just below his navel—he had an outie—and surrounded a long, slender cock that curved slightly at the end. Toby’s brain did the geometry quickly, and his body clenched at the thought of how that curve would fit inside, the pressure it would exert against his prostate.

  He barely had time for a groan before Caleb was back, dropping his jock on the floor and the supplies on the bed before sprawling on top of Toby. “Beautiful,” Toby managed, and Caleb smiled for a split second before kissing him again.

  Kissing melted into caresses, and in what felt like no time at all, Caleb had Toby prepared and his cock in place, ready to breach his body. Toby lifted his legs to wrap around Caleb’s hips again and pulled, encouraging him to move. “C’mon,” he murmured. “Get in me.”

  Caleb was smiling as he eased inside, and Toby had to smile too, even as the stretch and burn made his eyes flutter shut. Oh God, he’d missed this feeling; missed being filled, the weight of a man on top of him, the smell and slick slide of sweat and lube.

  Caleb didn’t stop moving even when he was in deep, just pulled back and pushed forward again and again and again, each stroke a little longer, with a little more force behind it. By the time he was pulling almost all the way out and slamming back in, Toby was riding a wave of white-hot sensation, skin buzzing all over, cock and balls tight with tension.

  Just as Toby suspected, every one of Caleb’s thrusts pushed the head of his dick across Toby’s gland at exactly the right angle, each pass shooting paroxysms of pleasure through Toby’s body. Caleb was going to milk an orgasm right out of Toby without a single touch to his cock, just the sweet pressure from their bodies rubbing together.

  “Toby.” His name, whispered against his ear in that sexy, raspy voice, shot Toby’s desire into the redline. He moaned and reached for Caleb’s head with both hands to slam their mouths together in a dirty, messy kiss. It didn’t last long, Caleb’s thrusts growing suddenly even harder and more erratic, and Toby lasted only a few more seconds before his body and cock jerked hard and he spilled between them.

  “Fuck!” The barely coherent word came from Caleb, as Toby could manage no more than a gasp and deep groan of satisfaction as his orgasm ripped through him. As if at a distance, he felt Caleb shudder against him in his own climax.

  Caleb collapsed on top of Toby, and even though it made breathing harder, Toby couldn’t bring himself to care. Two hundred pounds of warm, sweaty man pressed him into the mattress, and despite feeling completely wrung out, Toby managed to sling arms and legs around him, holding him in place.

  “Crushing you,” Caleb muttered into the pillow near Toby’s ear, and Toby shook his head.

  “Like it. Stay,” he murmured back.

  Caleb did, even as his shrinking cock slipped out of Toby’s body and the cum and lube grew cold and sticky on their skin. Eventually, Caleb rolled onto his side, taking Toby with him, and gave him a slow, deep kiss. Toby made a sound of satisfaction deep in his throat, and Caleb pulled away with a smile.

  “Let me grab a washcloth or something so we don’t—”

  “No.” Toby tightened his grip around Caleb’s body. “Clean up l
ater. Sleep now.”

  Caleb hesitated, but then he relaxed back against the mattress. They shifted until both were comfortable, bodies tangled together, and Toby drifted toward sleep, satiated and content.

  WHEN Toby woke a few hours later, his mind had caught up with his actions, and he was up and off the bed before he even realized he was moving.

  “Wha….”

  Caleb’s groggy voice came from somewhere behind him as Toby pulled on his underwear and reached for his jeans.

  “This was a mistake.” Even as the words left his mouth, Toby knew they were wrong, but what else could he say? He’d broken every possible rule: sleeping with someone from work was bad enough, but sleeping with a player? If his grandfather found out, he’d hit the roof. Three times over, since said player was also, of course, a man.

  “Toby—”

  Toby didn’t stop dressing, even though his hands wouldn’t stop shaking. “I can’t do this. I can’t…. I just can’t. You’re a great guy, but this ends now.”

  He shoved his feet into his sneakers, tied them quickly, and stood, patting his pockets to check for phone and wallet. Only one thing left to do….

  He looked up, at Caleb, sitting in the middle of the bed, hair a mess, torso bare, sheets tangled around his lower body. His blue eyes were barely half open, sleep still hanging heavy over him, and Toby’s resolve wavered.

  No, he ordered himself. You had your fun. Now get the hell out before you make it worse.

  He gave Caleb one last look, committing that gorgeous view to memory, and then he was out the door.

  IT TOOK a good twenty minutes in the shower before Toby could no longer smell Caleb on his skin, though the sense memory remained. His skin raw and his fingers wrinkled, he kept his gaze safely away from the mirror while he dried off.

  He walked out of the bathroom as dawn lightened the horizon. The day stretched out endlessly ahead of him. Tomorrow, the clubhouse crew would hit the ground running, spending the rest of the All-Star break getting the place set up for the second half of the season. Today, though, the whole place was getting an intense cleaning from top to bottom. Athlete’s foot in the showers was the least of their worries, what with nastiness like norovirus and MRSA lurking in every crevice.

 

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