by Alice Ward
During pregame, I forced myself to focus. I needed to get Eliana out of my head. Jogging back to the dugout for some water, I heard someone calling my name. I looked up, and some groupie chick flashed her tits.
She was hot. Like the “Baywatch” kind of hot that used to get me off. I thought I even recognized the girl. Hell, I might have fucked her already.
She pulled her shirt back down just enough to cover her nipples but left the underside bare. “Want to get a drink tonight?” she yelled, flashing brilliant white teeth.
I didn’t. I wasn’t even remotely interested. Actually, I was more than a little disgusted, by her and by myself.
Not long ago, I would have signaled for her to come closer. I would have flirted back, maybe gotten her phone number so I could screw her brains out after the game.
Now, there was nothing.
Not a single thing stirred in me, even though she was crazy beautiful, with a body that could cause men to have wet dreams.
She didn’t have strawberry hair, and there wasn’t a freckle in sight. Instead of blushing, she was brazen… and it turned me off.
I raised my left hand, giving her the classic “I’m married” finger wave. Of course, there wasn’t a ring on that hand yet, but there would be soon.
The groupie shrugged and smiled wider. The shrug caused the tiny shirt to ride higher, showing more tit. Of course it didn’t matter to her. Riding the cock of a “somebody” she could brag about to her friends was the one thing women like that cared about.
Truly disgusted now, I tossed down my water bottle and turned away.
“I’ll save you,” Luke said, his shit-eating grin in place. “I love all you guys getting hitched cause it just leaves more pussy for me.”
He crooked his finger to the girl, and she didn’t even hesitate. She was at the fence, showing Luke her tits this time. He could have her. In fact, he could have them all.
I had Eliana.
Knowing it made me smile.
***
Hand over my heart, I stared at the flag as the national anthem played, then took my position at first base. Over the catcher’s head, I had a clear view of Eliana in the stands, Zoe on one side of her, Mom and Nana on the other. I squinted, looking closer. Sure enough, Nana had gotten the Beasts logo on her t-shirt bedazzled. Knowing Nana, the shirt was probably covered with real emeralds and diamonds. I might need to hire a bodyguard just to protect her shirt.
The first batter walked up to the plate, and I pulled my shit together, focusing on nothing but our pitcher winding up. I didn’t know Chuck very well, but he had been doing a good job and finding more time on the mound.
Wind up. Pitch. Strike. Whoa damn, that sucker was ninety-seven miles an hour. Glad Chuck wasn’t tossing that shit at me. And I hoped he could keep that speed up.
Two more strikes and we had our first out. My nerves began to settle. Second batter stood up and experienced the same fate, the crowd going crazy as he slunk back to the dugout.
This was the part many people, and players, hated about baseball. Although I’d never admit it out loud, the game could sometimes be boring as hell.
I got into position, and the third batter swung, and the ball came off his bat with a loud crack. Rushing to my base, I watched it take a hard bounce, but Ace stopped it, coming up with a fireball at my chest.
“Out!”
Grinning, I headed to the dugout, pointing my glove at Ace. It was a helluva throw. He tipped his hat and took a little bow. The crowd went even more crazy with his antics.
By the fourth inning, the score was still zip to zip. I’d gotten thrown out at second my first go around, then hit a damn popup the second. I was eager to get back on the plate, but we were going through batters too slow. It wasn’t until the sixth that I had a bat in my hand again, and I decided to mix it up and hit with my left.
The pitcher didn’t like it, I could tell. His expression just made me crowd the plate a little harder. I watched his hand as he wound up, and his fingers were straight over the top of the ball. By the time the ball was leaving his hand, I was expecting his fastball and… fuck! I hit the dirt as the bomb came directly at my head.
In the MLB, pitchers average about ninety-five miles an hour, which means it only takes about four-tenths of a second for a ball to travel the sixty feet, six inches from hand to plate. By the time the ball was a dozen feet in front of the pitcher, the batter had better know if he was going to swing, hope for a ball, or hit the dirt like I’d just done. That was why hitting three out of ten was considered a fucking good average. The reaction time needed to be incredible.
Position was important too, of course. A millimeter too high and you had a grounder. A millimeter too low and that damn thing was popping up and falling into a glove.
I stood up and brushed the dust off, taking my time. I glanced into the stands to see Eliana’s hand clamped over her mouth. I smiled. Don’t worry, baby. I’ve got this.
Back at the plate, I crowded it again and kept my eye on the pitcher’s hand. Another fastball was okay with me. It launched, and within a heartbeat, I’d made my decision to swing. It wasn’t even a real decision, just an instinct created from standing in this spot a thousand times.
Crack!
My hands went numb as the ball left the bat. It felt good, but I didn’t trust it to be a homer. I took off, keeping my eyes on the first base coach. He was smiling, and I slowed down, enjoying the rest of the jog.
When I rounded third, something flashed in the corner of my eye — a literal freaking flash. A man, bare-assed naked, was streaking across the field.
I didn’t know where he came from, but I could tell where he was going — straight for home. And he seemed excited to be doing it, again literally, because his dick was leading the way.
Oh, hell no. If he was heading home, I wasn’t taking another damn step.
Glancing into the stands, I barked out a laugh. Eliana’s mouth was sagged open while Mom had covered her face with her hands. Nana had two fingers in her mouth, whistling loudly.
“Go, Beasts!” the man was screaming, waving something over his head. “Win-ning streak!”
Two security dudes were hot on his tail. His short legs a blur, the streaker was quicker than I’d imagined. Maybe quicker than me. But adrenaline could do that to a man under the right circumstances.
“Uh, should we do something?” I asked the third baseman, and he raised an eyebrow at me.
“You want to tackle a chubby naked guy, go for it.”
As I was imagining grabbing him by the love handles — and instead accidentally grabbing another handle — additional security swarmed the field. The streaker had made it past the pitcher’s mound, and I wondered if he’d try to slide home.
The crowd was wild, whether cheering the dude on or rooting for security, I’d never know. I thought I could still hear Nana whistling above the roar. Another glance in the stands proved me correct.
“Security don’t get paid enough for this shit,” the third baseman muttered.
I had to agree because one bulky guy took a flying leap, but his arms slid down and off the naked man’s body like he was covered in grease.
Maybe he was.
Just as it looked like he was going to tag home, another security guard went for his feet. With a dive most NFL players would be jealous of, the big man wrapped his arms around naked dude’s ankles.
The crowd gasped as naked dude’s arms began to pinwheel, but gravity wasn’t his friend. He hit the ground hard, dick first, followed closely by his belly and face. To a man, everyone in the stadium winced as he scooted several feet across the dirt, leaving skin, and things I don’t even want to think of, in his wake.
I was still holding onto my own balls as security tossed several towels on the guy, then yanked him up, dirt and all, to march him off. The guy must have been drunk as all fuck because he was smiling and shouting, “Win-ning streak! Win-ning streak!”
The crowd, of course, joined him.
It was kind of catchy.
When everything was clear, the ump whistled the play to continue, and I took off toward him to finish my home run. Glancing up in the stands before I tagged home, I met Eliana’s laughing eyes and couldn’t keep the grin off my face.
I liked having her there.
Sharing the good, the bad, and the ugly.
A lot.
***
When the game was over, our winning streak had continued with a four to two win, and it was time to face the press and their standard questions. It was the same blah blah blah with a few questions about the streaker tossed in until a reporter I didn’t recognize stuck his mike in my face, his cameraman’s light blindingly close.
“Any comment on the videos posted online of your fiancée?”
Huh? What the hell was he talking about?
“I’m not sure what you mean.”
I tried to push through the throng of people surrounding me. I didn’t like the smarmy look on the reporter’s face and didn’t want to give him time to ask the question again.
He stepped in front of me. “A video of your fiancée, Eliana Anderson, having, um, intimate relations with a man began circulating on the internet today. It’s gone viral. I’m asking if you have a comment about the video or its content. Were you aware of the video’s existence?”
More cameras turned to me as the question was heard by the other reporters and everyone wanted a piece of this breaking story. My mind went numb. So did my feet.
Someone grabbed my arm and pushed me in the other direction. “That’s enough questions.” It was a woman’s voice. I looked down — it was Katrina Delaney, marching me to the locker room.
After about a dozen steps, my mind began to work again, and I shook Katrina off. “I’ve got to get to Eliana before those snakes—”
“We got her. I had some of my team escort her back into an empty suite with the rest of your family. She doesn’t know any of this is going on.”
I sagged against the wall and leaned down to put my hands on my knees, breathing hard. I allowed myself just a moment before pushing myself back up. “I’ll sue those bastards. What they said out there was libel. Eliana wouldn’t—”
“Kane, it’s true. I heard rumblings just as you all were finishing up the ninth.” Katrina stepped closer and placed a hand on my arm. “I went online and found the video. Unless Eliana has a twin, it’s her. And it is viral. It’s had nearly a million hits in just under an hour. This won’t be stopped.”
I stared at her. This couldn’t be true.
Covering my face with my hands, I scrubbed hard before pressing the heels of my hands into my eyes. “Is it bad?” I asked from that position.
The answer was soft. “Yeah, but it doesn’t appear that she knew she was being filmed. Kane… the man never showed his face, so we don’t know who he is or where the video originated from. I… I’m sorry. I really liked Eliana the couple times I met her. I was looking forward to working on a pets and vets program with her.”
“I want to see the video.”
No, that wasn’t true. I didn’t want to see it, I needed to see it. I needed to be able to look at the video and then tell everyone how stupid they were. No way in hell was that Eliana. They were all wrong.
With a deep sigh, Katrina pulled out her phone and tapped the screen a few times. She handed it to me, and my heart was beating like a sledgehammer in my chest. As the video loaded, I read the headline: “Beast of First Base Kane Steele’s Fiancée Caught Cheating.”
Then it was there.
A woman was naked on the bed, her breasts rocking on her chest as a man thrust in and out of her. She was gripping the sheets, her body arched in pleasure.
The lily-white skin.
The freckles.
The breasts just big enough to fill my hand.
Strawberry blonde hair.
Pert nose, full lips.
As I watched, the woman cried out as the man thrust harder, his hands holding her legs up over his arms. I couldn’t see his face, or even his head for that matter.
All I could see was her.
Eliana.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Eliana
“What is taking him so long?” Nana complained and wandered over to the glass to look out at the field. I had been wondering the same thing.
I looked at my phone. Only twenty minutes had passed. In prior games, Kane had wanted us to wait in the suite for him. He would deal with the press, get changed, and come find us.
But it did seem to be taking a little bit longer than normal. Now, it was only me, Zoe, Marsha, and Nana. Everyone else had already left.
Stepping over to the beverage bar, I pulled a bottle of tea from the ice. Twisting the top off, I took a long drink. Not nearly as good as Mamaw’s. Of course, nothing was as good as what Mamaw used to make. Biscuits and gravy, corn bread and fried potatoes, and blackberry cobbler that would make your tongue cry in appreciation. And sweet tea was always in the refrigerator, little lemon wedges precut in a bowl.
“Look, Kane is on TV,” Zoe said and pointed at one of the many large screens sprinkled around the room. She had been flipping through the channels as she waited, and I thought it was curious that he was on something other than ESPN.
“Turn it up,” I told her then groaned when the show cut to commercial. I watched a happy woman cleaning her toilet, and a happy woman walking along the beach, thrilled that she’d gotten her period. Another happy woman was feeding her happy children. The following commercial showed someone else feeding her happy cat.
“Geez, would you like a bit of news with your commercial,” Zoe muttered, and I nodded in agreement.
Finally, the show was back on. It was one of those entertainment news shows with a beautiful woman and a beautiful man facing the camera.
“Welcome back to E-Behind the Scenes where you’ll get the latest on the hottest celebrities,” the woman said.
The man jumped in. “And tonight, we have the hottest of the hot. The New York Beasts are new to the MLB, but they are making quite a reputation for themselves off the field.”
“That’s right, Jeff. And tonight, we have exclusive footage and breaking news about the beast of first base, Kane Steele.”
My stomach was churning. Oh no. Was this about the porn star? I glanced over to Marsha and Nana to see if they were watching. They were.
“Zoe, I think you should turn this off,” I whispered.
Just as Zoe raised the remote, a picture appeared on the screen behind the “news” anchors. I gasped, recognizing the person immediately.
Me.
But it wasn’t a picture I’d ever seen before. It was a close-up of my face, and I looked… orgasmic.
“Kane Steele was recently engaged to Eliana Anderson, daughter of former model and soap opera star Alize Montgomery. E-Behind the Scenes learned today that, even though the ring was only recently slipped on Miss Anderson’s finger, she has already been caught cheating on the baseball player.”
With some kind of computer magic, the image expanded, my face growing smaller as more and more of my body filled the screen. I jumped to my feet, the tea spilling to the floor.
“No,” I breathed.
But it was. By the time the picture stopped moving, it showed me lying on a bed, naked, although my breasts were blurred. My head was thrown back, my mouth open, my hands gripping the sheets as a man stood between my naked thighs, clearly having sex with me.
“Earlier today, a video of Miss Anderson hit the internet and has gone viral in a very short time.”
I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t move. Couldn’t think.
“That’s right, Amy. This image was a screen grab from the video, and although we don’t yet know who Miss Anderson’s lover is, we’ll continue to get the scoop and report back with the latest.”
The woman flashed a brilliant smile. “You bet we will, Jeff, because we know you want to know wha
t is happening behind the scenes. And in other news…”
My picture began to fade as they speculated as to whether a famous actress was just bloated or was sporting a baby bump. Although I heard each word, it was as if they were echoing around me from within a tunnel.
Gentle hands touched my arm. “Eliana, I’m so sorry.”
I couldn’t respond. Only stare.
Video.
Did they say there was a video? A viral video?
“Phone. I need my phone.”
On numb legs, I turned, my gaze landing first on a stricken Marsha, then on a stricken Nana before my eyes landed on my purse. Zoe seemed to break from her own paralysis and ran to my bag, scrounging through it for several seconds before coming up with my device.
“Are you sure you want to see this?” she asked in a low voice.
I didn’t respond, just slid my thumb across the screen. A few taps of the keyboard later, and there it was.
Nearly two million views now, I thought distantly as I watched myself have sex with the football player I dated in college for several weeks. I couldn’t see his face, but I knew it was him. We were in his dorm room. I recognized the blue blanket and the line of footballs on the headboard, the poster on the wall. The blue curtains.
But… there had never been a camera. I would have never allowed such a thing.
Yet there had been, that much was clear.
I tried to remember the layout of his room. From that angle, the camera must have been on his desk, I thought somewhat distantly — like I was some detective trying to puzzle out a crime scene.
“I didn’t know…”
Zoe wrapped an arm around my shoulders, gripping me harder as I tilted backward just a bit. I felt dizzy, off-center. I locked my knees to keep from falling and forced myself to take deep, calming breaths.
From the corner of my eye, I saw the door open. I didn’t even need to look that way to know it was Kane. I could feel him enter the room.
Silence.
No one spoke. If anyone was breathing, I couldn’t hear it.
“Mom, Nana, I’ll take you to your place,” Kane finally said, his voice low. “Zoe, can you see Eliana home?”
