Game Face

by Abby Knox

  Troy had clenched his fingers around the steering wheel. That was not the way to motivate kids, he had thought to himself. “Well, I’m hoping your mom cuts back to one lesson a week if Rodney allows it. My preference would be you guys fire him altogether. He’s a lowlife and I don’t trust him.”

  Elliot seemed to be thinking on that for a moment. “My mom means well. She just wants me to succeed. But can I tell you something else?”

  “Sure.”

  “I kind of wish my mom had something else to think about. Something else to do besides take care of me and talk about baseball. It’s fun and stuff, but I don’t think she really enjoys it. She likes me. I mean, I know she loves me. But…I guess what I’m trying to say is I think she needs a boyfriend. Is that a weird thing for me to say? Because I’ve never said that to anybody before.”

  Troy couldn’t stop himself from blurting out, “You and me both.”

  He could see Elliot’s head snap in his direction. “What? Why would you think that?”

  “Uh. No reason. Just the impression I get. I mean, she’s a very nice person.” LIE! “But you know, all parents could use a break from time to time.”

  For being a smart kid, Elliot had been really accepting of all these super dumb cover stories for why Troy knew the things he knew. Then Elliot had gotten excited.

  “Hey, Coach Troy! I have an awesome idea.”

  “What’s that?” Troy had asked, pulling into the Dawsons’ driveway.

  Elliot had gotten out of the car and before he slammed it shut to say goodbye, he’d said, “You should date my mom! OK, goodnight!”

  Troy had driven around town for a while after that conversation. Thinking. Freely allowing himself to think about Remy Dawson. She was a handful. But so damn sexy. They argued. But somehow all the arguing made him rock hard for her. She was impossible. Yet she really seemed to enjoy kissing him. And touching him. And him touching her. And nibbling. And licking and sucking. And squeezing. And backing her up against desks and walls and fridges to do more and more fun things, if it weren’t for all the pesky interruptions.

  When Troy had grown tired of driving, he knew he wouldn’t get to sleep that night without some kind of resolution with Remy, so now here he sat in his truck, parked in front of a vacant house with a For Sale sign in the front yard. That location, he hoped, would not arouse suspicion from neighbors. He waited for the lights to go out in the living room and on in what he guessed was Remy’s bedroom.

  Troy picked up his phone and sent her a text.

  15

  Remy

  She was just settling in for some Conan when she got a text alert.

  “Call me,” it read. From Coach Troy. She felt dread, excitement, arousal, and wonder at what he was wanting her to call him for.

  “Why?” she texted back.

  A moment later: “You know why.”

  She smirked and typed away. ”That’s crazy. It’s late and I’m tired. I’m just going to watch Conan and go to sleep.”

  And then, her phone rang.

  She answered on the third ring.

  “Why are you answering on the third ring?”

  “What’s it to you?”

  “You know you’re sitting there by the phone.”

  “Yes I am, but I’m tired, like I said.”

  “Babe, you know you’re just gonna lie there thinking about my hand up your shirt and you won’t be able to sleep.”

  “You have some ego, Coach Troy. And stop calling me babe.”

  “I like it when you call me that.”

  “What, Coach Troy?”

  “Yeah, my name in your mouth gets me hot.”

  She paused. She could not believe she was going along with this, but shit if his voice wasn’t even sexier over the phone. “What would you like me to do about it?”

  He sighed, and it sent shivers down her back. “You don’t have to do anything. I’m just going to sit here listening to you breathe until I come.”

  “Where are you?”

  “Sitting in my truck outside your house.”

  “What?! Stalk baseball moms much?”

  “No, just you.”

  “What do you want?”

  “Rodney’s an asshole. We had some words. He made some threats. I’m just going to stay out here for a while and make sure you’re safe.”

  “Weak excuse.”

  “All right, I’ll go.”

  “No…stay.” She bit her lip and then totally obliterated her one rule about dating as a single mom: bringing men over to the house while Elliot was home. “Elliot’s asleep, you can come inside.”

  16

  Troy

  Whoa, he was not expecting that. But, no, he didn’t want to risk Elliot waking up.

  “Have you ever come while on the phone before?”

  “Of course not,” she said.

  “Then it’s about time.”

  “Weird.”

  “Not weird at all. Really fucking hot.”

  “Then I take it you have had plenty of phone sex.”

  “Is this what you want to do? You want to hear about my past phone sex partners?”

  “Gross. No.”

  “OK then.”

  “You’ve probably done phone sex with Tammy.”

  “Who?”

  “Come on. Will’s mom, plays first base? Her husband is out of town on business a lot but leaves her plenty of allowance money, as she calls it, to get things like boob jobs and Land Rovers.”

  “Doesn’t ring a bell.”

  “You’re fucking with me.”

  “I am very literally trying to fuck with you, Remy. Are you hot yet?”

  “I’m not telling you that.”

  “That’s kind of how phone sex works. You tell me exactly how turned on you are and then I turn it up to eleven.”

  “Eleven, what does that mean?”

  “Spinal Tap.”

  “…a spinal tap is not remotely sexy.”

  “No, the movie.”

  “…I don’t know what’s happening right now.”

  “Never mind. OK. Let’s rewind. Remy, how long has it been since you had sex?”

  “None of your business.”

  “No, Remy. Babe. Just make something up. Play along. It’s a game.”

  “OK. Um…I guess not since Ryan and I split up.”

  “And how long ago was that?” Troy expected her to reply with a year, two years. But honestly Troy had no idea how long Ryan and Remy had split.

  “Like…ten years.”

  Whoa.

  Troy had to press pause for a moment. On one hand, this was a lot of pressure. Kind of almost a virgin. However, on the plus side, she had to be horny as all hell. Kind of like a virgin. But also, did he want to be responsible for breaking the seal on that?

  Yes. Yes he did. He went for it.

  “OK, we’ll go slow. Where exactly are you sitting and what are you wearing?”

  He could hear the smile in her voice. “I’m sitting up in bed, against the headboard, with about a hundred pillows. My hair is up because I’ve got on a mud mask. Very sexy. And I have on a pink and white sporty V-neck football nightshirt kind of thing with the number 23 on the front and pink and white striped knee socks.”

  He tried not to laugh. “Knee socks, huh?”

  “It’s a sensory thing, I like pressure on my legs when I sleep and also I like my socks to match my pajamas, just because.”

  “That sounds unbelievably sexy, and I’m not even kidding.”

  “Well, come on in and kiss me with my mud face, then.”

  “Are you wearing panties?”

  He could practically hear her blushing over the phone. “Panties, yes. Bra, no. I never wear a bra in my house.”

  “I think you look hot without a bra.”

  “Haha, sure, if you take into account my age and…”

  Troy interrupted her. “The key to making phone sex work is you do not run yourself down. If I tell you you’re sexy, then you’re
seriously fucking sexy and that’s it, OK?”

  “OK. sorry.”

  “And do not apologize. Also not sexy.”

  “OK. So what are you wearing?”

  “I’m totally buck naked, sitting in my truck, looking at your window and touching myself.”

  “Naked?! Somebody is going to call the cops!”

  “Babe. It’s fantasy. Play along.”

  “Oh. Right. Moving along then. I’ll just pretend and tell you I’m wearing some hot little lace panties.”

  “There you go. Most important, are they wet yet?”

  “Getting there.”

  “Slip your hand under your night shirt, hike it up, and touch your breasts for me.”

  She paused and then said, “I’m doing it…and I’m rubbing them.”

  “They feel good, right? I can’t wait to get my hands on them and kiss them again. Touch your nipples. Get them nice and fucking tight.”

  She sighed. “Yes, Troy.”

  He could hear rustling of sheets and blankets. “Now reach down and slip your panties off.”

  More rustling sounds.

  “My panties are off.”

  “Good. Tell me about your bush.”

  “It’s shaved.”

  “That’s so hot, baby. Touch yourself, pretend I’m massaging you there.”

  Another sigh. “That feels good.”

  “Are you wet for me yet?”

  “My knees are apart and I’m soaked. Every time you speak I get wetter.”

  This woman was about to drive him off a cliff. “Is it safe to put me on speaker phone?”

  “Yes, done.”

  “Good girl. Roll to your side. I want to get a handful of that fine ass of yours.”

  “Done.”

  “Are you massaging your ass?”

  “Yes. It’s pretty sore from the gym.”

  “I’ll bet it is. I’ll bet you do a shit ton of squats every day.”

  “How did you know?”

  “Because your ass is jacked. It’s so nice, juicy and tight. Imagine I’m taking a little nibble.”

  “It feels good, baby.”

  “Keep your fingers in between your lips. Pretend I’m massaging your sore muscles with one hand and pushing into you with the fingers on my other hand.”

  “Oh Troy.”

  She was starting to breathe heavily, and his cock was so hard it was about to tear through his button-flies. He unfastened them. He grabbed his emergency blizzard blanket from the back seat and slipped it over his lap. He looked around; there was nobody on the street. Blessing of small towns. Everyone was in their home by 9 p.m.

  “Remy, my hand is around my cock and I want you on it so bad I can hardly breathe.”

  “Is it big?”

  “You’ll find out very soon when I put it in you.”

  “I’m sure it’s big. I’ll have to put some lube on it for you. I’m warming it up with my hands. Rubbing it on you now.”

  Troy smiled. She caught on really quickly. “That feels good.”

  “Troy.”

  “Remy.”

  “It gets me even wetter every time I hear you say my name.”

  “Troy, I want your hard cock in me right now. I wish you would just come inside and get some.”

  “Not now. Soon, baby. Now stroke yourself with both hands. One hand on your clit, the other hand guiding my shaft inside you.”

  “I could get my vibrator.”

  “As long as you close your eyes and pretend it’s me making you come.”

  In a moment he heard the low buzzing sound and heard her suck in her breath and sigh again.

  “You’re in. You feel amazing. You must be huge because I’m totally full of you.”

  Troy stroked himself up and down with gradually increasing intensity. “Remy. You’re amazing.”

  “Troy, I’m coming…” she cried out. Troy could practically feel her convulsing around him as his hands worked on himself. He closed his eyes. Her sighs and sexy little moans and the image now burned into his brain of her making herself climax, her eyes closed, her soft, delectable lips parted, thinking about him… It was just too much. He exploded into the blanket.

  “Oh god, Remy.”

  “How do my legs feel wrapped around you?”

  “Incredible. My hands are both on your ass, pushing in further, and I’m shaking all over because you feel so good.”

  He could hear her groan as she shivered with the last of her orgasm.

  “Baby, I wish this were the real deal.”

  “Don’t ruin it, Troy.”

  “Where are your hands now?”

  “On my thighs.”

  “I want to hear you kissing your fingers for me. Pretend it’s me doing it.”

  “You’re a dirty boy.”

  “Careful, dirty girl, you’re going to get me worked up again. Kiss them.”

  He heard her comply, and it gave him one last shudder of pleasure.

  Both out of breath and satisfied, he tried not to hurry too much, but he wanted to get off the street and get home before some random dog walker spotted him and called the cops.

  “I’m going home now, baby. But I’m taking you out. When are you free?”

  She purred, “How about you come over here after the practice game Saturday? Ryan is taking Elliot to some concert. You can come back here and we could spar and then do it for real.”

  He chuckled, “Saucy.”

  “Pillow talk, right? This is usually the part where people cuddle,” she said, some of the snark returning to her voice.

  “Yes,” he said. “But instead this is the part where I ask you to go on a proper date with me.”

  17

  Remy

  Little black dress or baseball shirt and jeans?

  What do you wear to a practice game after which you have a date to some unknown location?

  Remy had given in to Troy’s request for a date. She wasn’t so sure they would get along well enough to do anything but fool around. But maybe if that’s all there was, that would be OK. Wouldn’t it?

  Except, there was something else going on here. When she’d woken up Thursday morning after their little phone sex interlude, her car started immediately. She had checked under the hood, and sure enough, Troy had replaced the battery in the middle of the night. This was not the activity of a guy who just wanted to mess around.

  Anyway, how long had it been since she’d been on a date? Too long. Saturday was perfect timing, because of Ryan getting tickets to Weird Al.

  ”I think he kind of wanted me to tag along, but I’d rather not. Feels kind of pathetic if we’re not together,” she had laughed as she told Troy about it.

  Troy had been mysteriously silent on the other end of the phone call. Then he finally asked, “Is there a possibility you might get back together with your ex?”

  What a weird question. The thought had never crossed her mind. She didn’t want to make Troy feel like an idiot for asking, though. How would he know what her relationship with Elliot’s father was like?

  “No. He’s a great dad, but we’re a terrible match.” She chuckled and said, “Kind of like you and me.”

  Troy was silent again. Oh great job, Remy. Now you’ve hurt his feelings.

  “I just mean that you and I aren’t exactly written on the wind, am I right? We met three days ago, and what do we know how to do together besides argue, make out and have phone sex?”

  Troy replied, “Well, I hope to find out on our date, but I get what you’re saying.”

  They had hung up the phone before Remy felt like she had time to recover from making the “terrible match” comment to Troy. He sounded terse at the end.

  Well, what did he have to get his panties in a wad about anyway? They barely knew each other. Arguing made them both horny; it wasn’t exactly rocket science. He had to see the unlikelihood of this working out. Hadn’t he? He was just having fun, just like he had told her to have fun. Right?

  But here she was, ju
st having fun, and five minutes in she was hurting somebody’s ego.

  She looked from the dress to the tee-shirt. Back to the dress. Maybe she wasn’t ready to date again. Maybe her emotional maturity atrophied after her split with Ryan. Maybe she had never matured in the first place since Ryan was her first, last and only until now.

  Remy settled on wearing the baseball shirt and jeans. She also decided to cancel their date after the game.

  Sitting still in the bleachers on a warm, sunny spring Saturday afternoon at the scrimmage did not improve Remy’s edgy mood one bit. All the other parents chatted to each other about the upcoming season. About how impressed they were with the new coach. About the brand new backstop, thanks to the field being purchased by BKG Genetics. About how this new company bought out a huge cattle ranch west of town and built a mysterious high-tech laboratory. About how the dad of the first baseman, Brandt Fuller, got a new job there and was said to have to wear a sterile white suit before walking onto the production floor. She half-listened to all of it but could only focus on one thing: Coach Troy had kept his word and benched Elliot.

  What. The. Fuck.

  Oh yeah, she was definitely going to cancel this date.

  Elliot’s team, which was sponsored by Hawk’s Diner for the umpteenth year in a row, ended up winning the game without his help against their cross-county rival, Mount Pleasant Chiropractic. After the game, Ryan sauntered up to her.

  “What’s the deal?”

  Remy rolled her eyes. “Oh, the new coach thinks Elliot has a fatigued shoulder from working too hard on pitching, so he benched him.”

  Ryan squinted at her. He was trying to read her. Then he seemed like he was examining her hair, her makeup, her jeans.

  “No, I knew about that. I actually kind of agree with Coach Troy about all that. Elliot told me about it. I’m talking about what’s going on with you. You look awfully nice for a baseball game.”

  “Practice game.”

  “Even more overdressed, in that case. You got a date?”

  Remy blushed. None of this was Ryan’s business. “I’m wearing jeans and a tee-shirt; it doesn’t get any more casual, Ryan.”

  “You have on makeup and your hair is not in a ponytail nor in a messy bun. You’re wearing your good bra—“