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by Joanna Blake


  "I told you, she wont hurt you. Unless you are allergic?"

  I prayed fervently for a moment that she was. It would give me an excuse to let her go, with severance of course. Unfortunately she shook her head 'no,'

  "No ma'am."

  "Please don't call me that. I'm younger than you are."

  "Yes ma'am."

  I sighed deeply.

  "Camille. Please."

  I slid a few gold bangles onto my arm and checked my face. Then I slipped into some platform sandals and picked up my bag. I tried to ignore the maid who was still gawking at me. I decided I should say something amicable to her.

  "Have a… nice day."

  She nodded jerkily, clearly terrified out of her mind. I wasn't sure if she was more afraid of the savannah cat, or me. I took mercy on the poor woman and led Uzuri out of the room with me as I left for the clubhouse.

  Chapter Two

  Cade

  I pulled my cap off, letting the hot sun beat down on my head. It was a fair trade, worth it for the breeze that ruffled my hair as we took the field. I tucked my hat back down and rubbed my knuckles against the glove. Like the cap, the glove was new and needed breaking in.

  Apparently, I did too.

  I was shortstop for this game, a fact that did not go unnoticed with the other players. It was a prestigious position, as was my line up in the batting order. The coaching staff was giving me all sorts of advantages, which wasn't going over so well with the team.

  I wasn't making any friends today, that was for sure.

  It had been like that in the minors too. This was a job. A serious one. People would do anything to be in my shoes right now and I knew it. We all did. And that made us wary.

  Baseball was a team sport but also an individual sport in a lot of ways. It wasn't a non-stop bro fest like most people assumed. Most of the guys kept to themselves, earning trust over time.

  And then there were some guys who were just real assholes. Bonafide butt puckers. Natural born winking starfish.

  Especially the really famous ones from what I could tell.

  One of the older guys had already knocked into me when we took the field between innings. 'By accident' of course. I'd given him a look and he'd grinned at me, like the Grade A dirt bag that he was.

  K-Roll was one of the most famous ball players in the world. Too bad he acted like a spoiled little bitch. I just smiled at him like the turd basting bastard he was. The first time I took bat I walked right past him and called him Prince Charming.

  As in 'move your dainty ass.'

  Let's just say he was not amused. I didn't give two shits. I just stepped up to the plate, and swung at what they gave me.

  I hit a homer on my first swing as a professional ball player. It was just practice but still. It felt damn good.

  Crack. Boom. Bam.

  I get a straight face as I ran the bases. But as soon as I was back, I gave him the look. The look that said I'm having a shit eating picnic and you are the guest of honor. The look that said, here it comes, just for you! A whole plateful of humble pie. The look that said 'my dick is bigger than yours.'

  Much, much bigger.

  That one I had no doubt about. It was just one of those things. I was unusually blessed. I considered my equipment to be a gift from God. He might have made me poor and born into a real chicken scratch life, but he also gave me a killer swing and a giant dick.

  A fellow couldn't really ask for more.

  It was the first practice game of the season so the suits were all there. I saw Roger, the guy that came out on the rig and bought me out of my iron-clad contract with the oil company. I'd been less than three months into a five-year stint. But he'd taken care of it somehow, and here I was.

  Harrison Rivers stood next to him. A few other lawyer looking fellows. And someone else.

  A girl.

  A fragile looking girl that made me stop in my tracks.

  She looked like a doll. That was the first thing that popped into my mind when I saw her. One of those fancy antique dolls that cost a fortune. Porcelain skin. Huge China blue eyes. Dark shiny hair that looked like it was made out of silk.

  Suddenly I understood why little girls liked playing with dolls.

  I tried to keep my eyes on the game from the bench but it was tough. I kept looking over my shoulder at her. I had to stand to do it. She was slim, but curvy. She stood and I could see that she was petite. Little even. She stretched and I could see her legs.

  I was a leg man.

  And those were damn good legs.

  Prize winning, blue ribbon, cherry on top legs.

  I grinned, figuring this wouldn't be too hard. Women were easy for me. I decided she was going to be my next lay. I couldn't wait to make her acquaintance.

  Intimately.

  I was grinning when I took my turn at bat again. I was fourth in the line up. I knew it was an honor to be the designated clean-up hitter. I liked to think it was well deserved. But it was still an honor, especially on opening day. If I could really hit it out of the park, that would make my way easier with the little doll. Not that I thought I would need any help.

  I lifted the bat over my shoulder and waited.

  Camille

  "That one. He's going to change the game."

  I lifted my binoculars to my face, staring out into the field. The new player was tall, well built, almost too well built actually. His upper body was thick for a baseball player, so I doubted he'd have good speed. His face looked like it was carved of marble, all harsh lines, like a cowboy in an old-fashioned movie. He squinted in the sun, masking the color of his eyes. I made a sound, lowering my binoculars again.

  "This is the one you paid through the nose for? He's untried. And he looks like a gorilla."

  "Just watch. He moves around the diamond like a Goddamn ballet dancer."

  I sipped my sparkling water and leaned back in my seat. Despite my intentions, my eyes kept returning to the player, almost against my will. He was fourth in the batting line up, which meant he was a power hitter.

  When it was his turn, I found myself leaning forward in my chair. He held back on the first two pitches, as they were way inside. Then on the third pitch he swang. The crack sounded throughout the field, shaking the seat underneath me. My eyes were wide as the ball sailed neatly out of the stadium. I heard a crash and then a car alarm went off.

  Well, that was a first.

  "He can hit."

  I had to concede that. My father's voice was full of awe. I could sense a full-on man crush in effect. I never understood that. Then again, my father had always wanted a boy.

  "He's the best I've ever seen."

  My father chuckled gleefully, rubbing his hands together. I couldn't help the trickle of resentment at the glowing look on his face. He'd never looked that way at me. No matter how high my marks were. Or how well I'd done with a fundraiser for the team's charity.

  Or how much money I'd made him with my savvy investments.

  "I still say you overspent on a rookie."

  "Wait. He's not just a power hitter."

  I went back to my phone, barely watching as the teams changed positions. I noted that the new guy was playing short stop, another vote of confidence from the coaches and my dad. I kept one eye on the new player, and one on my email. But the player was winning.

  I inhaled sharply as the ball went his way for the first time. He lifted up into the air, twisting his body with extraordinary grace. He caught the ball and jogged back to the dugout. He knew he'd just ended the inning without waiting for the official call from the ump. He didn't even spare the other players a glance.

  I felt a sudden shock.

  He was ignoring the ump for a reason. He was too busy looking at me. I glanced over my shoulder to see if there was something behind me and then back at him. Nothing was back there. The man was definitely looking at me. I felt like I was caught in some sort of laser beam when I looked into his extraordinarily blue eyes.

  His eye
s were a startlingly bright hue. His soft looking lips were twisted in a wry smile. His handsome face was smug and knowing. I disliked him immediately.

  He disappeared into the dugout and I turned away, ignoring the strange, hot feeling that was pooling in my belly.

  My father was right. The man was gifted. He'd be good for the team, even if he was shockingly forward. I lifted my binoculars again. Time would tell if he was consistent. If he was, we were in for one hell of a season.

  Lucky number 7…

  I checked my phone, rapidly replying to emails and texts. No one sent me jokes, emoji's or GIF's. It was mostly bills, budgets, scheduling fundraisers. If there was money involved, people came to me.

  I just had a way with it.

  It irked my father, knowing that I was even better with money than he was. He may have brought himself up by his bootstraps, but I understood the ebb and flow of business in a way he never could. Plus, I read everything I could get my hands on. I was far more ambitious and desperate to prove myself.

  At least in one thing, he couldn't criticize me. It's not that he was cruel. He was a warm man.

  He'd just always wanted a son.

  When I looked up a half an hour later, lucky number 7 was staring at me again. Not just staring. He was smirking.

  I felt a hot sizzle of alarm go through me. I pulled my sunglasses out of my bag and slid them into place. There. I felt protected by the dark lenses. Now he couldn't see me.

  I glanced back at the field and saw that he was grinning even wider.

  Almost as if he knew why I'd put my glasses on. That it was because of him. That he knew how he'd affected me…

  Suddenly I felt even more exposed than before.

  I narrowed my eyes, wondering what his game was. It's not that I wasn't used to men looking at me. It's just that none of my father's players had ever dared.

  I watched in awe as number 7 continued to hit homers and break two more bats as the day went on. He even put a visible dent in the left field wall with a rocket line drive. That was another first.

  "They call him 'The Wrecker'."

  I nodded absent-mindedly to my father, only half paying attention to him. My eyes were glued to the field and the new player.

  I could see why.

  Chapter Three

  Cade

  "Who's that?"

  "The dish?"

  I nodded, my eyes on the dark haired beauty in the stands.

  "That's Camille Rivers."

  "The boss's wife?"

  Chuck laughed. He was one of the few guys who'd really made me feel welcome. Probably because as catcher, he had nothing to worry about.

  I wasn't going to make him obsolete, no matter how many homers I hit.

  Plus, the was from he deep South too. We spoke the same language. He even liked the same sort of booze and drank the same sweet tea.

  "Hell no. That's the daughter. Camille."

  I felt relief wash over me. Yeah, it might not be smart to bang it out with the boss's daughter, but his wife was off limits. I didn't believe in coloring outside the lines of matrimony. Not that I wanted to get married but I would not mess with someone else's wife. Especially not the guy signing my checks.

  A daughter on the other hand, I could handle the fallout.

  Of course, if I kept her purring like a kitten, there wouldn't be any fallout.

  She'd be too busy clawing at me to cause any ruckus with her daddy. I could just see her sweet lips begging for another taste. Just one more time, please Cade. I'll be a good girl.

  I grinned. It had been a while since I had a woman. I had a casual thing with a local girl back in the minors but I'd ended it before I left. I hadn't been too upset about it. There was no way to stay with a woman out on a rig. Even the married guys had issues.

  And I was definitely not the marrying type.

  I let my eyes slide over Camille's body. That was one sweet piece of ass that might get me to stick around for a while. Oh my, she just might. I listened while the coach gave us some notes on our game. He didn't have much to say to me other than 'keep doing that.' The other guys gave me a wide birth as we headed into the showers. The whole time I was washing up I was thinking about her. Especially when I washed my balls.

  Sweet, feminine, darling Camille.

  I was in the locker room tucking my trouser snake into my pants when a man came up behind me. I didn't see him at first, he was that quiet. It was hard to sneak up on a Dupree, but this sonofabitch had done it. My first instinct was to smack him upside the head.

  I restrained myself.

  If he was in the locker room, he probably worked for the club. I glanced at his pointy face and expensive suit. Probably a lawyer or some such.

  I hated lawyers.

  "Mr. Cade?"

  I nodded my head once. I didn't like this fellow from the get go. Hopefully the rest of the suits would be better. Or they'd leave me the hell alone.

  "Mr. Rivers would like a moment."

  I grinned at that, pulling a clean shirt over my head. I smiled, wondering if she'd be there too. His darling daughter. This was just the opening I was hoping for.

  Time to shine, Dupree.

  "Be happy to."

  I didn't say what I was thinking: that I'd be happy to give his daughter more than just a moment. I wanted to give her a week's worth of boners. A good 'ole time. A roll in the hay or twelve. The stiffest of the stiffies.

  Thor himself. The God of Thunder. The Hammer.

  All ten inches of him.

  Oh yeah, my package had a name. And his own zip code. And at the moment he was itching to get down to business.

  "Lead the way."

  Camille

  I was ready to leave when my father stopped me.

  "Wait a moment, I want you to meet someone."

  I nodded, leaning against the bannister. I wanted to go back to the house, take a swim, and then have a cocktail while I looked over my work.

  I'd traded heavily that day and I wanted to make sure my instincts had been right. The market was already closed for the day and so far it looked like I'd done very well.

  Very, very well.

  A man came into the viewing box and I tilted my head, not recognizing him. He looked like a body builder or a movie star, or one of the guys who ran security for the team sometimes. My father waved me over and I paused, wondering why he was introducing me to this guy.

  I realized with a start that this was number 7. The Neanderthal. And he was staring at me with a strange look in his eyes. His bright, strangely piercing eyes.

  I walked over, suddenly feeling a bit shaky on my feet.

  "This is Cade Dupree. Cade, this is my daughter Camille."

  His icy blue eyes were somehow warm as he smiled down at me. The man was enormous! Practically a giant. I was tiny next to him. It should have intimidated me.

  But for some reason the size of him didn't bother me in the least. His sheer strength made me feel protected somehow. As if he would look out for me.

  I pulled myself up straight, shaking off the absurd thought.

  I barely knew the man. And I didn't need protection.

  He held out his hand and I reached for it, trying to ignore the warm feeling of his big rough hand covering mine. It felt… nice. Really nice.

  "It's nice to meet you, Mr. Dupree."

  "Likewise. Call me Cade."

  I hesitated. I knew he was waiting for me to give him permission to call me Camille. But I didn't.

  "Welcome aboard."

  He just nodded, holding my hand in his. He held on way longer than necessary, to the point of absurdity. I glanced down, seeing that my hand was completely swallowed up in his. And he still wasn't letting go.

  I looked at him, raising an eyebrow. He grinned at me in a predatory way. I tugged backwards slightly and his lips opened. I felt his calloused thumb graze the inside of my palm, sending shivers through my body.

  Once.

  Twice.

  Then he starte
d stroking the sensitive skin on the inside of my wrist.

  My father was talking the whole time, not seeming to notice the exchange. I scowled at the big oaf. This was the least subtle come on I'd ever had in my life! And even with my walls up, I'd had plenty. Usually I just discouraged them with a cold glance but that seemed to have zero effect on the caveman standing in front of me.

  I was outraged!

  I was livid!

  I was also, infuriatingly, unable to look away from the man. His eyes held mine steadily, forming a strange electrical current between us. The seconds ticked past and it seemed like we were the only two people in the world. Finally he looked away, but only long enough to smile and nod at my father, who was oblivious to what was happening. Then he looked back and began to mentally undress me. He wasn't even being subtle about it.

  The way his eyes traced the edges of my breasts and waist, travelling all the way down my legs and then back up again. He even licked his lips in appreciation. I could see everything he was doing!

  Worse yet, I could feel it!

  The second time his eyes drifted down, he really took his time. His eyes pushed the straps of my dress over my shoulders, then unfastened my bra and savored my breasts… they slid lower, tugging at my panties…

  "Cade's going to be our ambassador this year Camille."

  I snapped back to attention.

  "What?"

  "I asked and he said yes."

  "Without consulting me? I am the one who runs the Kids Club."

  My father had the good grace to look uncomfortable.

  "Cade's going to be big news this year Camille. And he's got a lot of interest in children."

  "For what? Eating them?"

  My father glared at me. I couldn't really believe I'd said that out loud but the man had me off balance for some reason. It was his eyes. It had to be those eyes.

  Cade just laughed.

  "You're a fire cracker. I like that."

  I yanked my hand away from him while he was distracted. I clutched it against my stomach protectively. I knew in that moment that I hated Cade Dupree. He'd just made me lose my temper. No one did that. I was unshakeable.

 

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