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Bottom Of The Ninth: Bad Boys Redemption: Book Three

Page 17

by Readnour, Kimberly


  But none of that matters at the moment. The only thing that matters is the beautiful girl who brought me to her room and…holy shit, she’s performing a private striptease. For me.

  And what a performance.

  Down to her underwear and top, she’s too damn tempting. I shimmy out of my pants and close the distance. I try to help her out of her top, but she playfully bats my hands away and pushes me onto the bed.

  “Patience, big guy.”

  My chuckle slides out easily enough, but this fire brewing inside me is anything but humorous. “Okay, sexy girl, I’ll play along.” When my ass hits the mattress, I drag my shirt over my head and toss it to the side. Lust fills her eyes as her gaze roams over me. By the way she licks her lips, I suddenly feel like I’m the answer to her prayers. If her prayer was to devour a delectable dessert, that is. Hot damn, I do love this surprisingly wild streak in her.

  Heat curls down my spine when she steps closer and runs her fingers along the planes of my chest. She doesn’t stop once she reaches my boxers. I lift my hips up as she works them off me. I think she’s about to make me a very happy man, but she slinks away. Threading her fingers through her hair, she tousles it into a messy pile on top of her head and lolls her head to the side. “Do you want me?”

  “Fuck, yes,” I groan with approval. I want it all: her body, her lips, her heart.

  God, I don’t want to let her go.

  Seemingly satisfied with my answer, she lets her hair fall freely, her golden tresses bouncing over her shoulder. Then it’s my prayers that are answered when she rears her head back, just slightly, and rakes her fingertips down her neck to the curvature of her breast. She lingers for a moment, the corners of her mouth angling upward as she cups her breasts and squeezes them together.

  Fuck me.

  I grip the side of the mattress and swallow hard as my gaze follows the path of her fingers, wishing like hell my mouth trailed behind. Her delicate fingers wander across her abdomen and dip to her hips. As she palms across to the spot I ache to plant my tongue, she emits the sweetest moan as she rubs herself over the underwear. Oh yeah, I could watch Mia pleasure herself all day long.

  “You’re fucking killing me here.”

  She must hear the strain to my voice because she steps closer. Sporting the same sexy smirk, she asks, “You need more?”

  I was going to say no, that I just needed her, but as her fingers trace along the hem of her shirt, I lose my train of thought. She lifts her top slightly and exposes her flat belly. It’s just a flash. A quick tease. But enough to make my dick throb.

  I can’t hold back any longer. I lift from the mattress and pull her next to me. Our mouths collide as I grind my hips into hers. Our hands are everywhere like I can’t get enough. I grab hold of her shirt and break our kiss just long enough to pull the shirt over. Then, my lips are back on hers, not leaving any space untouched.

  Fuck, I need to slow down, or our last night will be remembered as the Battle of Endor with me behind the controls. The one time I played Battlefront II, I lasted a whole two minutes before tossing the controller across the room. Why the fuck am I thinking of Star Wars when this beautiful, partially naked girl is standing in front of me? No wonder she refuses to keep seeing me.

  I break away, wanting to slow my pace and treasure our last time together. But her sexy, wanton look is too much to overcome, and because I need to taste her—right here, right now—I stoop to my knees, dragging her underwear with me as I lower to the floor. She places her hands on my shoulders and steps out of the panties. I wrap my fingers around her ankles and wedge her legs apart. I glance upward, and what do you know? Her pink pussy lips glisten back at me all willing and wanting.

  I oblige and drag the tip of my tongue along her slit. My body sizzles with anticipation. Her gasp when I reach her sensitive spot makes me smile, and I think my new favorite activity is getting her off.

  Maybe if I make her see how good we are together, she won’t push me away.

  I plunge two fingers inside her heat while my tongue lavishes her clit.

  “AJ. Oh, God. Just like that.”

  A few more strokes with my tongue and pumps with my fingers and I have her right where I want her. She comes hard, bucking against my face and almost bringing me right along with her. I continue to lap up the last of her juices, but when her legs buckle, I move quickly to catch her. We collapse onto the bed, and I give her a second to catch her breath. She turns to face me, her eyes softening.

  “That was incredible.”

  “No, sweetheart.” I swivel around until I’m straddling over her. “That was just the beginning.”

  I take her mouth with mine, and it’s like I can’t get enough of her. I reach up to cup her breast that I’ve sorely neglected. With a slight brush of my thumb, I sweep across her nipple. She moans and tips her head to the side as the hard peak tightens beneath the fabric. I snake my fingers around her back and unclasp her bra while planting kisses across her jaw to her shoulder. I’m almost dizzy with need as her round tits are freed. Not one to miss an opportunity, I swirl my tongue around the pink hardened tip as my hand cups her mound. Her body arches, and I start to work my way down her body.

  “No,” she whines when she realizes what I’m going to do. I lift my head, and when our gaze connects, she shakes her head. “It’s my turn. I want to taste you.”

  Who am I to argue?

  She shifts her compact body out from under me. After I flip to my back, she settles in between my legs like a woman on a mission—a sex-crazed mission. She runs her tongue along the base of my cock upward and encloses those luscious lips I love so much around the tip. An electric current jolts straight to my toes when she cups my balls and gives a slight squeeze. She then slides her mouth lower, inch by painstakingly slow inch, until she can’t handle any more length. Her fingers wrap around the base, and when she strokes in unison with her mouth, it feels fucking fantastic.

  But the building heat is a warning.

  “Babe, if you want anything left for you, you better stop.” I don’t want to come in her mouth. I want to come inside her. Make her scream with pleasure, because maybe, just maybe, she’ll change her mind.

  She lifts off, her hand still stroking my length. It takes every ounce of my willpower to pull away and roll her underneath me. Her sweet laugh trickles over my skin, and the heat radiating from her stare melts my insides.

  I don’t want to lose her.

  “Are you on the pill?” Horrible timing to ask, but I want to feel every inch of her body. No barriers.

  She nods, and exultation surges through me. “Yes.”

  “Do you trust me?” I line my cockhead at her opening but wait for permission.

  “Yes,” she says with no hesitation.

  “I always use protection, but I want to feel you. All of you.”

  “Yes. God, yes,” she says through a moan while lifting her hips to me.

  Her sex molds around my length as if she’d been fitted just for me. And it’s the most incredible feeling in the world. Warm wetness surrounds me, and I want to stay in this exact spot for the rest of my life.

  I swirl my hips, withdraw slightly, and then drive back inside. I hold her gaze as I keep this routine for a while. Then with each tantalizing slow drive, her eyes hood over as the heat builds between us.

  She’s so beautiful. I don’t want to lose her.

  I run the pad of my thumb across her swollen lips, continuing to roll my hips. Our gaze never strays, and I wonder if she’s thinking the same thing as me.

  If she has the best orgasm she’s ever had, maybe she’ll decide to stay with me.

  My hand slips behind her head, and she angles her chin to rest inside my wrist. I pick up the pace, rocking into her, giving her all I have. Each forward thrust is met with her moan, but I want to give her more. I run my hand across her chest and tweak her nipple before lowering it to where we’re joined.

  If she can see how much I want her, how much I need h
er, she’ll stay with me.

  My thumb rotates across her swollen nub, and by the way she moans my name, I know I did right.

  “That’s it, girl. Let it go.” I sink deeper and pound hard and fast into her until both of our bodies surrender to the need.

  I’m spent. I collapse next to her while my breath catches up to me.

  “You’re right,” she says.

  “Usually am, but what about.”

  “That, what we just did, was incredible.”

  I chuckle. “Told ya. We’re good together, you and me.”

  She pauses, and I raise up to look at her. Her eyes glisten as she stares back.

  “Let’s give us a try,” I plead. “I know we can work through this. We’re too good together not to.”

  She blows out a breath and runs her fingertips through my hair. Her eyes bore into mine almost as if she’s searching for something. The truth, maybe? Whatever it is, she must find it because the corners of her mouth begin to rise. She opens her mouth, but my ringtone blares through the room and interrupts her.

  “Shit, I told Cara to call when she made it back home.”

  “You better get it.”

  I dip my head and kiss her belly. “One second, babe.” My heart races like a pinch runner stealing bases. She was going to say yes, I know it. I search frantically for my pants, where my phone is buried. As soon as Cara confirms she’s safe, I crawl back beside Mia. Back to get my answer.

  “She okay?”

  It’s a simple question. But I may as well have been kicked in the nuts because her lifeless, monotone voice immobilizes me all the same. Fuuuucckkkk! She’s changed her mind.

  “Yeah,” I answer, cautiously in case there’s a slight chance I’m wrong.

  Her lips tug down at the corners, confirming my worst fear. I lost her. I let out a humorless laugh. A goodbye fuck. If that’s all this was, then I’m no longer needed. I push off the mattress and grab my clothes.

  “Where are you going?” she asks as I pull my jeans on.

  “Home, unless you tell me to stay.”

  “Stay.”

  “As your boyfriend?” God, I hate sounding like a sissified wimp, but damn it, I want the whole package. We can make it work, I know we can.

  She bites her lip, and I almost crawl back into bed with her. Almost. When she grabs the sheet and drapes it across her chest, I have my answer. And I feel…used. She fucking used me. A pang of sadness tightens my chest, but then all I see is red. Hot, fiery anger boils my blood and races through my veins. It’s as if I’m on autopilot, rage fueling my next moves.

  “Thanks for the goodbye fuck.”

  Her small gasp makes me feel like the biggest asshole, but this is what she wants. No use sugarcoating it. I exit her room, and when she calls out my name, I don’t bother looking back. She’s made her mind up, and it doesn’t include me.

  I don’t stop walking until I’m out in the street. My chest heaves up and down, the cool, crisp air invading my lungs and cooling my anger like a blacksmith heat-treating steel with ice water. Except it’s my heart being dipped, and the hit against it makes it shatter into tiny pieces. I clutch my chest as I stare back up at her apartment. It hurt the first time I left her eight years ago, but now? Now, it stings like a mother.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  AJ

  Current Day

  The scent of vanilla smacks me in the face as soon as I open the back door, and there’s no stopping the smile from the familiarity. Some things never change. Sleep evaded me last night, so I decided to leave for Jonesburg early. I set the presents down and shake my coat off. Slippers slapping across the linoleum makes being here worth it, especially in three, two, one…

  “AJ, you’re early.” Nonjudgmental arms wrap around me and reaffirm my decision to leave the city early.

  “Momma.” I embrace her hug maybe a little too much. She doesn’t drop her arms but leans back to get a better look at me.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing’s wrong, Mom.” Damn, that woman knows everything. Always did. “Can’t I just hug my favorite lady?”

  She purses her lips. “Something’s up, boy.”

  “Nothing’s wrong. Just miss ya.”

  “Come on inside here. I’m making the cut-out cookies.”

  My stomach rumbles.

  I watch Mom work around the kitchen. She clears out a space to roll out my childhood memories. As she maneuvers the dough, the lack of counter space becomes abundantly clear.

  “Mom, why don’t you let me buy you a bigger house? One with a larger kitchen.”

  “Why do I need more space? It’s mainly just me. Besides, Cara will be gone soon, and I like living here.”

  The guilt from what I put her through pulls at me. I think of Cara’s recent stunt she pulled. Other than that, she has never done anything major to make Mom worry. But not me. Mom had to pick me up from the precinct. If it wasn’t for my coach…

  “I’m sorry.”

  “For what?”

  “For causing you so much grief. Among other things. I didn’t make life easy for you.”

  She puts the rolling pin down and eyes me. Her voice is cautious as she says, “You were young, but I think you turned out just fine.”

  “Doesn’t excuse all the crap I did or the major thing.”

  “Major thing?”

  I grunt.

  “AJ, you haven’t talked about this in, well, ever. Does this have something to do with the girl you’re seeing?”

  My eyes widen from surprise before my mind flashes back to my high school years. Other than the natural wrinkles that come with age, Mom still looks the same as the woman from my youth. Right down to the hand on the hip and the same worry lines creasing her forehead.

  “How do you know about Mia?”

  “A mother always knows.”

  “Cara,” I mumble under my breath. She must’ve blabbed. “There is no longer a girl.”

  “What’d you do?”

  “It’s not me. Blame the Phillies; they’re the ones trading me.”

  “Baseball players get traded all the time. I’m sure their relationships don’t end with a change of a hat.”

  And that’s Mom, reducing my shambles to a baseball cap metaphor.

  “No, but I’m sure Mia doesn’t want to move. She doesn’t even want to continue what we have. It’s for the best, anyway. I don’t deserve her. Everything bad in our lives”—I wave my hand between Mom and me—“is my fault. I’ll end up ruining her life, too. I’m too much like Dad.”

  The sharp intake of air makes me regret bringing him up. He’s never mentioned. Hasn’t been mentioned in years, other than when people say I act just like him.

  “You’re nothing like your father.”

  I run my hand through my hair and let out a frustrated sigh. “Yeah, well, every time I fu—messed up, people always said I was just like him.”

  “No. People only said that because your father was a screwball.” She pauses, and I brace myself for her next words. Those tiny lines forming in her brow never mean anything good. “AJ, do you blame yourself for him leaving?”

  My mother is always insightful. I close my eyes and shake my head. Why did I even start this conversation? “Of course, I’m the reason why. I’ve known for years.”

  “What do you know? Or what do you think you know?”

  “I heard him tell you that he couldn’t handle me anymore. He left right after.” I pinch the bridge of my nose. “I watched you struggle, and I’m the reason behind it.”

  “Oh, AJ. Is that what you thought?”

  “That’s what I’ve known.”

  “No, son. You’re not to blame for your father walking out.”

  “But I heard him.”

  “That man couldn’t handle life or responsibilities. We married young and had children. He just never grew up. Believe me when I say him leaving is not your fault.”

  “But if I were a better kid, he’d still be here.”
>
  “Sweetie, no.” She lets out a sigh. “He left to be with his girlfriend.”

  “What?”

  “When you heard him tell me he couldn’t handle you or Cara, he meant he couldn’t handle our life. His other woman was young with no responsibility. A shiny new toy he couldn’t stay away from. When she offered a fun, carefree life, he took her up on it. Although I doubt they stayed that way.”

  “I can’t believe he had another woman.” All these years I carried the burden of him leaving. The bastard. How could he have done that to Mom? “It still doesn’t negate the fact I’m just like him, though. People still refer to me as being carefree.”

  “You’re nothing like him. It may be true that you had a lot of energy, but you channeled it toward playing baseball. Whether you want to believe it or not, you are responsible. Look, what you do for your sister. Sure, the women in your life have been a revolving door—”

  “Mom!”

  She holds her hands up in protest. “Please, I’m not that old. But you have a good heart. And if this new girl can get you to curb your language, I like her already.”

  Curb my language? How the?

  “How did you know she hates me cussing?”

  “You’ve been here for thirty minutes, and you’ve only sworn once. And that was only a partial.”

  I chuckle. The first genuine laugh since Mia ended things. “You may be right.”

  “Any woman you’re willing to make a positive change for is worth fighting for. Come on, AJ. It’s the bottom of the ninth with two outs. Time for you to step up to the plate.”

  Holy crap, she’s right. I pop off the chair. “I hope you don’t mind, but there’s something I have to do.”

  Her lips press into a knowing smile. “I’d be upset if you didn’t.”

  “Thanks, Momma.” I lean over to plant a peck on her cheek. “Merry Christmas.”

  “Go get her, slugger.”

  As I walk out the back door, I glance up at the mistletoe and yank it down. Stupid parasite. When I pull out my phone, I proceed to dial the last number I ever thought I’d be calling. But I really need to hit a home run this time.

 

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