“I know, baby, but the doctors—”
He pressed his index finger to my lips. “The doctors said I can’t do any strenuous exercise,” he reminded me. “They never said one fucking word about having sex with my boyfriend, and that’s exactly what I intend to do. I’ve been told that make-up sex is the best sex there is when it’s with the right person and I intend to test that theory tonight.”
His hands fumbled between our bodies, shoving past the waistband of my lounge pants. The assault on my dick was merciless and I found myself unable to protest. I stretched to the side and reached for a bottle of lube on the nightstand. His eyes grew wide when I handed it to him.
“You sure about this?” He took the bottle with shaky hands.
“Babe, the only way we’re going to do anything tonight is if you promise you’re going to take it easy,” I informed him. My mind still wasn’t on board with fooling around so soon after his accident, but there was no way I could leave him doubting anything about our relationship when I left town. “That means you’re going to lay back and let me do the work. I want this. I want you to own me the same as I own you.”
Mason flicked open the cap of the bottle and poured the lube onto his fingers while I stripped us both naked. I settled onto the bed on my side, facing away from him as he spread my ass cheeks wide. His slicked fingers ease their way down the cleft of my ass before circling my entrance. I pushed back, fucking myself on his hand.
“Fuck, Mace! Don’t stop,” I pleaded. The burn quickly gave way to pleasure as he found the sensitive bundle of nerves. He pushed deeper. Harder. When he pulled back and re-entered me, the ache returned as he added a second digit. “God, so good…yes…”
Mason reached for my dick with his free hand. “You’re so fucking tight,” he observed. “How in the hell am I supposed to fit in there?”
“You’ll find—ungh…fuck, do that again,” I begged. Mason turned his hand as he thrust into me with three fingers this time. As wonderful as it’d be to let Mason finger fuck me until I blew my load, I wanted even more. “Lay on your back and get comfortable.”
He did, and I positioned myself between his legs and took him into my mouth. When he began to buck off the bed, I dug my fingers into his hips. He might be about to fuck me, but from this point on, I was in charge. I didn’t linger on his cock for long, knowing how hard it’d be for him to last once his cock was buried inside of me. I kissed my way up his body, pausing to pay close attention to his rigid nipples. Sucking. Biting. Taunting.
“Sean…please…” he begged. I laid on top of him so our cocks rubbed against one another as I sealed my mouth over his. Mason watched as I poured the slick gel over my hand. No way was I going to be able to take his wide shaft without making sure both of us were prepared. I began stroking him as I shifted so I straddled his hips. “Fuck, I’m gonna blow.”
The way his balls were already creeping up, I knew he wasn’t lying. I thought he was going to lose it when I reached around my body to shove two wet fingers up my own ass. “You ready, baby?” I asked as I positioned him at my entrance.
“Please, Sean,” he pleaded. Shouts filled the room as I lowered myself onto his dick. It’d been so long since I’d allowed anyone inside of me that I swore I was going to rip in half. “Fuck…so good…so…fucking…good.”
I continued until Mason was fully inside of me. I bent forward, kissing him as I gave myself time to adjust to the sensation. “I love you, Mason,” I told him between kisses. “So damn much.”
Mason pushed my body off of his and stared into my eyes as he began bucking off the bed. We worked ourselves into a steady rhythm, not too fast, but far from slow and sensual. Words were replaced by grunts and pants as the head of Mason’s dick nudged my prostate every time he pushed into me.
I lost control and began riding Mason fast and hard, holding his shoulders to the bed as I fucked him mercilessly. “Want to come,” he warned me, reaching to begin stroking my dick. “Come with me, Sean.”
My ass clenched around him as I watched come spurt over his stomach. Mason pushed into me one final time and threw his head back as he exploded inside of me. My arms gave out and I collapsed on top of him, careful to avoid the injured side of his face.
“Happy now?” I asked before kissing the side of his face.
“Definitely.” He sighed, wrapping his arms tightly around my back. It felt right to lay with him this way, but I forced myself to get out of the bed long enough to grab a warm washcloth and clean both of us so we weren’t a crusty mess in the morning. Mason was drifting off to sleep when I slipped into the bed next to him and pulled the quilt over us.
It had been one hell of a day. I woke up wondering how I could be in the same room with Mason without everyone seeing how much we loved one another. When our secret was shouted across a room full of reporters, I thought it was the end of my life as I knew it. The truth was, it was only the beginning. Without any skeletons left in the closet, Mason and I would find a way to focus on the things that really mattered in our lives.
Epilogue
By the end of the first week of spring training, I felt every single workout I’d skipped in my aching muscles. I was still throwing harder and faster than ever, but it also took me longer to recover. “What the hell was that, Tucker?” Coach yelled as I sat down to grab some water.
It didn’t help that I was still trying to get used to the sauna-like conditions of the desert. My body was pissed off at me for the sudden temperature shock, which wouldn’t have happened had I come down earlier. But I hadn’t, and now I had to gut through the coughing and wheezing without complaint.
“You were all over the place out there.” I didn’t need him shrieking at me to know that I’d messed up. On top of everything else, my head wasn’t in it today. I didn’t mention any of the reasons for my lack of focus because if they sounded like flimsy excuses to my own ears, Coach would tear a chunk out of my ass if I tried to feed them to him. “It’s like you forgot how to control the damn ball over the winter. Speed and power won’t do shit for you if you can’t get the ball over the plate.”
“I’ll do better tomorrow,” I promised. We all had our off days, especially at the start of training. It’s part of why we were down here busting our asses before everyone else. Logically, I knew that, but it didn’t keep me from feeling like Stu was going harder on me because he thought I had something to prove to the team and everyone else. It was no secret that the big story this spring was an openly gay pitcher and whether or not he’d have a limp wrist now that he wasn’t trying to act all macho.
Coach stormed off to go deal with a rookie who had more raw talent in his pinky than most teams carried on their rosters. He’d likely be sent to the minors at the end of camp, but I had no doubt we’d be seeing him in the bullpen before too long.
I turned on my phone to check messages before jumping into the shower. I hated being so far away from home right now, but we were doing what needed to be done to keep the disruptions in our life to a minimum. My heart started racing when I opened the text message from Mason.
You need to Facetime me as soon as you get this. Love you. Don’t freak out, just call me.
Jason walked into the locker room and found me staring at the screen. He sat next to me, grabbing the phone to read Mason’s message. “You gonna call him or would you prefer to sit there staring at your phone for the next hour?”
Sitting there doing nothing seemed to be a good idea. It had taken me a while to come around to Mason’s suggestion, and now that I had, I was so invested it’d kill me if something happened. He’d given me hope and a life I’d never dared dream of and I worried that he wanted to see my face when he gave me bad news.
“God, you know I love you like a brother, but sometimes you’re impossible,” Jason groaned. Before I could protest, the shrill ringing on my phone let me know that Jason had pushed the one button I couldn’t. I held my breath as we waited for a connection.
The second Mason’s fac
e came into view, my heart lurched into my throat and I couldn’t suck in any air. Along the pale yellow wall behind him, I saw monitors and a curtain. He was in the hospital. He shouldn’t be there. It was too soon. “Hey, babe! Hey Jason.” The concerned waver in his voice was a direct contrast to the wide grin on his face. “Let me guess, he started freaking even though I told him not to?”
“Yeah, something like that.” Jason bumped his shoulder into mine. “It’s a good thing the rest of the guys aren’t down here yet. They’d have a field day watching him break down.”
Overall, the guys had taken my sexuality in stride. A few of them still gave me dirty looks and avoided changing if I was anywhere in the vicinity, but most of them went out of their way to make sure I knew they saw me as one of the guys. That meant I wasn’t immune to the shit-talking that was commonplace.
“Now, you want to tell him what’s so urgent before he strokes out?” Jason urged him. He was exaggerating, but not by much.
Mason set down his phone, leaving me a view of the tile ceiling. I heard him talking to someone, then a chair scraping across the floor. His phone jostled around, making me a bit queasy, but I couldn’t look away. And then…I broke down like a girl the moment the most beautiful face in the world came into view.
“Sean, meet Asher Nolan Tucker. Ash, that’s your other daddy,” he cooed to the wiggling bundle of blankets in his arms. And the one with the dark hair is your Uncle Jason. He’s an alright guy most of the time.”
Jason moved the phone to his other hand so he could drape his other over my shoulder. If the entire team had walked into the room right then, it wouldn’t have made a damn bit of difference. I reached out and traced my finger over the image of Asher’s face. “He wasn’t supposed to be here for three more weeks,” I sobbed. I’d already talked to Stu and told him what was going on so I could try to be home for Asher’s birth. Abi made me promise her I’d be there. “I wasn’t there.”
“Babe, it’s fine,” he assured me. “Abi woke up this morning having contractions and by the time she realized that they weren’t those fake contraction thingies, I thought she was going to give birth in the passenger’s seat of my Jeep.”
“Oh fuck! She didn’t, did she?” I asked, hating that I was stuck on the exact opposite end of the country from every single thing that mattered in my life. I tried jumping off the bench, but Jason refused to let me go. I had to go. I had to get out of the park and to the airport.
“Sit the fuck down,” Jason warned me as he handed the phone to me. “I’ll go touch base with Stu and then start looking at flights.”
I thanked him and slid to the floor in front of the lockers. I felt light-headed and the last thing Mace needed was me cracking my skull on the concrete. “How’s Abi?”
“She’s good. Sean, you’d be so fucking proud of her.” He beamed as he told me about the delivery. Every once in a while, he’d pause to press his lips to Asher’s forehead or stroke his face. I tamped down the tinge of jealousy I felt that he got to spend this time with Asher while I was sweating my ass off. “She’s sleeping now, but I know she’s looking forward to you getting up here.”
That made at least two of us. Jason came around the corner and held up his hand. “Hey, sorry to bother you guys, but I got you on a flight in three hours. We need to get going so you have plenty of time. I let Stu know what’s going on and he wanted me to have you give him a call on the way.”
“Thanks. I owe you one,” I said. I turned my attention back to my family. “Babe, I’ll text you the flight info and call your parents. Stay up there and take care of Asher and Abi. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“I have no doubt.” Mason chuckled. He lifted Asher’s tiny fist and waved it in the air. “Bye Daddy, love you!”
Daddy. I was a father. I had a son and a best friend I planned to spend the rest of my life with. As I pressed my fingers to my lips and then to the screen, I realized there was more to life than throwing the perfect pitch.
Music wailed through the built-in speaker system as I sliced strawberries. I still couldn’t believe this was home for the time being. When I graduated and my employment fell through, I thought I’d wind up on the street or shoved into a dinky apartment with three other men. Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine Drew telling me to pack my shit and get up to Milwaukee.
He’d recently been traded to the Mavericks and was renting a house from some guy who’d been traded to a team out west. I couldn’t imagine having a home and knowing that you’d still have to leave at a moment’s notice. If I had a killer log cabin on the lake with hardwood floors throughout and a kitchen any chef would drool over, I’m not sure any amount of money would make it worth packing up to leave.
Then again, it worked pretty well for me, because Drew always hated being alone and he was going crazy with so much room to himself. The downside was that he felt the need to drag me out of the house less than two days after I got here for some baseball barbecue thing. I wasn’t looking forward to spending the evening hanging out with a bunch of jocks.
Just the thought of it was enough to give me hives. Drew was the only athlete I hung out with back when we were in high school, and that was only because we’d been friends since I moved to Adams when I was ten. Even then, I knew I was different from the other kids in our backwoods town. Drew was the one who never gave me a hard time about the fact that I’d rather shop and create crazy dishes in the kitchen than do anything outside. By the time we were in high school, the asshole jocks had made a sport out of slamming me into lockers and shoving me in the garbage cans under the bleachers.
“What in the hell is that?” Drew asked as she scrubbed a towel over his dark brown hair. I swatted his hand when he reached for a handful of perfectly sliced berries.
“It’s a trifle,” I informed him as I started layering cake into the bottom of the bowl.
“What the hell is a trifle? And why are you making one to take over to Sean’s house?” He made his way around the center island to the fridge and started pulling out bags of lunchmeat and cheese to make a sandwich. It was a good thing he made piles of money, because it seemed like he was always eating.
I sighed heavily when he left the empty bags and crumbs all over the black granite. Once I didn’t feel like a guest in his home we’d have to talk about the fact that there was no maid and I wasn’t going to play Felix to his Oscar. I threw away the trash and wiped down the counter while he sat on one of the stools at the island watching me.
“You told me I was in charge of something to take with us,” I explained to him. “I found that bowl in one of the cupboards and it inspired me. Have you ever even had a trifle?”
“Uh… no,” he deadpanned. “It sounds like some sort of frou-frou crap, and that’s not my style.”
“It’s pudding, whipped cream, cake and berries. What part of that isn’t you style?” I teased, throwing his words back at him. “The last I knew, anything edible was right up your alley, and if it’s sweet, it was dangerous to keep around you.”
“True, but still…” He pushed back from the counter and grabbed his t-shirt off the back of the couch. “These are the type of guys who thinks burgers and a cooler full of beer is high-class.”
“Sounds like a challenge. Someday, those boys are all going to find wives who aren’t going to settle for bar or cookout food,” I said, as though I was the foremost authority on being a sports wife. “They’re going to expect highbrow dinner parties. Besides, there’s no way in hell I’m going to let this kitchen go to waste by making a pan of brownies.”
“What’s wrong with brownies? I’d kiss you if there was a pan of gooey, chocolatey goodness sitting here right now.”
“Yet another reason,” I told him. “First, you’d devour every last crumb which would annoy me because I’d have to make more, and then it’d get all awkward. You’re like an annoying little brother sometimes. I don’t need you shoving your tongue down my throat because I baked.”
Drew bark
ed out a laugh that echoed off the exposed beams of the ceiling. “You wish! We both know you’re jealous because you’ll never get a piece of this.”
I finished arranging the last of the slices on top of the bowl and admired my handiwork. It wasn’t anything fancy, at least not in my mind, but it felt good to create something I was proud of. Since graduation, I had barely made more than the simplest dinners because I was too stressed over where I was going to go when my lease ran out at the end of June.
“Whatever,” I scoffed as I pushed past him. “I have to get ready. Don’t touch the trifle or I may have to break a finger.”
“Harsh!” Drew yelled as I walked up the stairs to my loft bedroom. “Just remember that we have to be out the door in fifteen minutes. No one is going to care if you have a few hairs out of place or if your outfit isn’t perfect.”
“No, but I’ll care,” I quipped. “And really, isn’t it all about me?” I was joking and I knew Drew understood that. He’d always given me a hard time when we were younger because I couldn’t go out in public if I wasn’t at my best and he thought I wouldn’t get picked on as much as I did if I wasn’t so worried about my appearance.
Drew muttered something before his words were muffled by the television. Sportsline again. I briefly wondered if the television received any other channels because it was always playing the all-sports channel. I didn’t bother griping about it because I figured it was part of the job for him or something.
Had I known we’d be going anywhere, I would have packed differently. Most of my clothes were still neatly rolled in plastic totes out in the back of my Nissan Rogue. I’d start hauling them inside, but Drew would seriously flip shit if I told him I had to find the outfit I wanted to wear if he was going to drag me out in public. This was my only shot to make a decent first impression. In the end, I wound up choosing a light green gingham button-down and khakis because they’d go with the black Vans I was growing tired of. I missed my shoes.
Wild Pitch Page 24
