by Cecilia Tan
“Damn, Casey, that’s hot.” He slipped a finger between her lips and then made an appreciative sound when he discovered how wet she was. She bent one knee, encouraging him to explore more. He slipped a finger into her. “So, only what I put in?”
She nodded.
“You won’t even finger yourself like this when you masturbate?” he asked, rubbing his fingertips against her g-spot.
“Nope,” she said. “I’ll just rub my clit. In there… that’s your job.”
“Yes, ma’am. I’ll do my best to take good care of it.” He crooked his fingers and she moaned with pleasure.
“You know what else I think?” she said, as he brought her close to the edge of orgasm. “If it’s really just going to be you and me, you can forget the condom.”
“Are you serious?” His eyes were round.
“I’m on the pill. And Missy told me the team docs checked you for STDs already.” She raised an eyebrow.
“True, true. I just… wanted to be sure that you were sure.”
“I’m sure. Come here.” She rolled onto her back and pulled him after her.
He settled between her legs and she looked up at him as he began stroking his bare cock through her slick folds. “Where is it, where is it… ” he said, raising an eyebrow at her. The head of his cock rubbed against her clit and she jumped a little. “There it is!”
He was holding himself up on his elbows, hips moving, rubbing her clit again and again with just the head of his cock. She’d never felt anything like it. No lover had ever even tried that. It was like his tongue, only smoother, and somehow a perfect fit.
“Good?” he asked in a whisper.
She could only nod, hoping he would keep doing it.
He did. Until she was close, so close, then changed his angle and began to dip the head of his cock into her, fucking her shallowly three or four times before slipping it up to rub against her again.
“God, that feels good… ”
“Mm-hmm.”
She could feel his thrusts getting deeper, but never all the way in, until she realized he was trying to hit her g-spot with his cock the way he had with his fingers. She bent her knees more, angling her hips, “Ahh!”
“There it is,” he said again. “Eureka.”
“God, yes… ” It felt like soon it wouldn’t matter what he did, her orgasm was building and the explosion was starting to feel inevitable. He kept alternating between her clit and inside her, back and forth, and soon she was hanging onto him with her arms, not even sure why, just pressing their chests together.
When he dipped his mouth to her neck and sought out that one spot with his tongue, she came, wrapping her legs around him and pulling herself onto him to get as deep a thrust as she could.
“Oh, jeez, fuck, Case… ”
“Don’t hold back,” she said, already grinding against him, about to come for a second time.
“Gonna… gonna come inside you,” he said, then groaned as he couldn’t hold back anymore. She came a second time as he emptied into her with a series of quick, hard thrusts, then lay back, panting and staring at the ceiling.
“Oh my God, where’d you learn to fuck like that?” she exclaimed.
He flopped next to her. “Dunno. Just seemed like a good idea, you know? Originally, I mean. Now… well, I have had a little practice at it.”
“Guess there’s an advantage to a man who used to be a playboy,” she said with a grin.
“That’s right,” he said, nuzzling close and then kissing her. “They were all just practice for you. And coming inside you is one of the hottest things I’ve ever done.”
“You’re the third guy ever,” she answered, rolling onto her side so she could look into his eyes. “There was my first boyfriend when I was young and stupid, though I only let him the once. There was a guy a couple of years ago, once. And then there’s you.”
He chuckled. “I feel honored.”
“You’ll be the first to do it more than once, too,” she said. “Maybe even tonight… ”
“Oooh, nothing like giving a guy incentive,” he said. “Just remember, I do have to pitch tomorrow.”
She nodded. “I’ll be on top so you can rest your arm. How’s that?”
“Sounds like a deal.”
Chapter Seven
Morimoto turned out to be an incredible restaurant. It looked to Casey like the set of a science fiction movie, with molded plastic everywhere and colored lights in the tables that would subtly shift the entire color of the restaurant from a lime green to a teal blue to a deep purple. The food was out of this world, too— beyond sushi, beyond nouvelle cuisine. Casey wasn’t even sure half the time what she was eating, but it was all delicious and delightful. Tyler sat across from her, between her father and mother, while Madison sat between her father and her brother, Nick.
So far, so good, she thought, while they waited for dessert to come. Mad Dog had been surprisingly talkative, and he and Tyler had a few baseball stories they told in tandem which were both interesting and not too dirty for polite company. The mixture of company kept Casey’s mom from grilling Tyler too much about embarrassing stuff.
That didn’t stop her from hurrying into the ladies’ room when Casey went, though.
“Boy, he’s really a bundle of energy, isn’t he?” Elaine Branigan said as she went into a stall. “Tyler, I mean.”
Casey always thought it was a little odd to talk while peeing, but her mother always seemed to think it was okay, so therefore it must be okay, right? Still, she kept her replies minimal. “Yeah. Professional athlete, I guess.”
“He seems really nice. He’s trying really hard to impress your father, though.”
“You think?”
“Oh, definitely. I have to ask, you know I do, Casey, how serious is this thing between you? I mean, are you really serious about someone who is such a celebrity?”
“Mom… ”
“Not that I don’t think you should enjoy it while it lasts, of course. You know how hard it is to get a table in here? I’m amazed. Utterly amazed. The hostess was telling us that one of the Japanese players on the team was here yesterday and they were giving us the same table that he’d had! But, you were saying?”
Casey finished up and was done washing her hands before she replied. “He doesn’t seem that much like a celebrity to me,” she said, as she checked her hair in the mirror. “I mean, with me, he’s just Tyler. He doesn’t act the way you’d think someone whose fame has gone to his head would.”
“Well,” her mother said, emerging and going to a sink herself. She then fluffed her own hair, which was short and salt and pepper. “He dotes on you, that much is clear, and honestly, dear, it’s nice to see you with someone who interests you enough to pull you away from work.”
“Mom, I’m really not that into this job.”
“Which is why it’s a shame you’re such a workaholic, wasting yourself on a job you don’t love.” She crossed her arms and looked at Casey in the mirror.
Casey sighed. Both her parents were academics, teaching at UPenn, and Casey was fairly sure they just didn’t understand how “real” jobs worked. “I’m not a workaholic,” she grumbled, but without much conviction.
Elaine pulled out a lipstick and touched up her makeup. “So do you think you’ll still be with him at Christmas? Nick’s girlfriend’s parents have a condo in Aruba and they’re asking if we might all like to go down there for the holiday. I know that’s six months away, but those kind of trips need to be planned ahead.”
“I… yeah. I don’t know. I hope so. You didn’t tell me Nick had a girlfriend, though.”
“Caitlin. They seem serious enough to be trying to get us to meet her parents, anyway, so… ” Her mother tucked the lipstick away and held the door open for her.
So, she seemed to be saying, if your little brother can decide he’s serious, you should be able to, too.
Back at the table, they found the chef himself talking animatedly with the two ballpl
ayers. “Ah, yes, yes! So many Japanese players are coming to America now. But it makes sense. If they really are the best in the world, they have to come here, to the toughest league, to prove themselves. It shouldn’t matter where the talent comes from. If the major leagues are going to be the best league in the world, they should take the top talent from everywhere: Australia, Italy, wherever baseball talent can be found.”
Mad Dog was sipping something from a tiny cup. “Especially if they can pitch. Pitching talent is the hardest to find. That’s why so many good players come from the Dominican Republic. They’re so poor, they don’t have video games and all that, so the kids just throw the ball around all day long. Their arms get strong.”
Casey sipped from her own cup of grassy-tasting tea. Her father jumped in with a question about the food, and the conversation shifted from baseball to gourmet eating, and she caught Tyler looking at her and smiling a little smile.
* * * *
That night, back at the hotel bar, they shared a nightcap with Ken, the writer whom Missy liked. Casey got the impression that the guy actually liked Tyler as a person and didn’t just act nice to him for the sake of a story, which was probably why Missy approved of him. That didn’t mean Ken didn’t sometimes ask questions which sounded like they could have come right out of an ESPN interview, though.
“So you won today,” Ken said, while they were waiting for their drinks to come, “and that makes six… no, seven starts in a row that the team has won, and that you’ve picked up the win, too. That’s starting to be an impressive streak.”
Tyler grinned. “It’s just the law of averages, Ken. I had lost, what, five in a row before the winning streak started? And I wasn’t pitching worse than I am now, was I?”
“Well, actually, your batting average against balls in play was pretty terrible in April and May,” Ken said.
“Translate?” Casey whispered to Missy.
“See, that’s what I mean,” Tyler said. “That’s so not in my control. I really think that’s luck.”
Missy turned to Casey. “He’s saying that on balls that batters hit, you know how sometimes the ball will go in just the right place to get through the infield, whereas other times it goes right to a guy? He’s saying that in April and May, for whatever reason, more of those balls were getting by, whereas now they’re turning into outs. Tyler’s not doing anything different. He’s just luckier now.”
“I’d rather be lucky than good,” Tyler said, taking his drink from the waitress as she handed them around. “Plenty of guys who are good have bad luck and don’t get anywhere.”
“I’d rather be lucky and good,” said Mad Dog, raising his glass.
“Hear, hear,” Tyler agreed, and they all clinked glasses together. Casey smiled. Everything seemed to be going so well.
* * * *
It wasn’t until the next morning, as she was getting ready to leave for the airport and Tyler was getting ready to go back to the ballpark, that things started to go wrong. She was just putting her things back into her suitcase when Tyler came and put his arms around her. “So what are the chances you could take off and come see me in Atlanta?”
She turned and put her arms around his waist. “When is that? I know I want to try to get to Chicago.”
“Mmm. Atlanta’s this coming Thursday. We’re flying there right from here. Could you come down Wednesday? They’re flying me ahead again, so I’ll be rested up for Thursday’s start.”
“Tyler, you mean three days from today? I can’t do that. I have meetings on Thursday morning that I need to be there for.”
He nuzzled in her hair, taking a deep breath. “I won’t have anyone who loves me there to watch me,” he said. “And they hate my guts in Atlanta for some reason.”
She pulled back a little. “You’re a big boy. I’m sure you can handle it.” Then she frowned. He was looking really pretty stricken. “Can’t you?”
He chewed his lip and looked into her eyes. “It’d really, really, really mean a lot to me if you were there,” he said softly. “They do this thing there, the Tomahawk Chop, it’s like the whole crowd wants to scalp you.”
She sighed. “Tyler, they’re just sports fans. You’ll have Mad Dog and the whole team there. And I don’t know if I want to sit with a bunch of bloodthirsty Indians fans.”
“Braves fans,” he corrected her. “But… ”
“I can’t go with you on every road trip,” she pointed out. “There’s that trip coming up where you’re doing San Francisco, L.A., and Arizona, you’ll be gone for like two weeks. I can’t just tag along to every city.”
He looked absolutely crestfallen. “I know,” he said, voice small. “But I’d really like it if you could come to Atlanta. Your meetings are in the morning? Could you go to them, then hop a flight at about three in the afternoon? I’ll pay for it, you know. I bet you could see the game, then hop a Delta flight back around eleven at night… ”
“And not get to Logan until two in the morning and have to be at work at nine the next day?”
“Well, yeah… but wouldn’t it be fun?”
She sighed. “It would be fun, but… ” Casey bit her lip. If it was really only about the sex for her, then she shouldn’t be interested in this jaunt, right? Whereas if there was something more going on, shouldn’t she be trying to support her partner? “It’s really that important to you that I’m there?”
He took her hands in his. “Yes. Yes, it really is. I know Missy won’t be there, so you’ll have to sit by yourself… oh, I know, I can probably get you into one of the luxury boxes. Would that be okay?”
“Tyler, where I sit really doesn’t matter to me.” She shook her head. “I can’t believe I’m considering this.” But wasn’t Tyler more important than her job? Her mother’s words in the ladies room were still stinging a little. “I don’t know how much I can push my luck at my job.”
“You’ve had to leave at two o’clock before, haven’t you? Doctor’s appointment or that sort of thing?”
“Well, yes, but usually I know a bit farther in advance. But… ” She looked up at him, weighing the thought some more. “All right. I’ll see if I can get a flight that works. If I can’t, though, I’m not coming.”
“Great! Take my AmEx number down so you can book it!” He spun her around and kissed her. “Oh my God, you’ve just made me so happy. You always make me happy, Casey.”
But on the flight home, she thought about it some more. “Missy, is it really that bad in Atlanta?”
“What do you mean, hon?”
“Tyler says he ‘really, really, really’ wants me there for the game on Thursday. Something about the crowd wanting to scalp him.”
Missy frowned. “That doesn’t sound like Tyler.”
“I know, being bothered by a hostile crowd?”
Missy shrugged. “Maybe that’s just his excuse and really, it’s that he can’t stand the thought of not seeing you for a whole week?”
“You think?”
Missy stuck the in-flight magazine back into the seat pocket. “I think he’s ‘really, really, really’ in love with you, is what I think. So yeah, that’s a possibility.”
Casey bit her lip. “If he’s really in love with me, why hasn’t he said so?”
“He hasn’t?”
“Well, not in so many words. I mean, the other day he did say something like ‘that’s why I love you so much,’ but it was sort of joking, you know? And when he was asking me to go to Atlanta, he said, ‘there won’t be anyone there to see me pitch who loves me.’”
Missy narrowed her eyes. “Hm. That is kind of… well… but Casey, do you love him? I mean, why haven’t you said it to him if you do? Or are you waiting for him to say it first?”
Casey stared for a moment. “Um, I guess I am. I mean… ”
“You do love him?” Missy asked. “It’s totally okay if you don’t, you know. I’m just trying to figure out where you’re coming from.”
Casey stuck her hands under her armpits l
ike they were cold. “I think I do love him, but I’m not sure I believe it yet. I mean, it’s still early, you know? And if he hasn’t said it… ”
“I don’t know.” Missy shook her head. “He might just assume you’re in love. Both of you. You act totally like you are. You look like you are. So why would he think you aren’t? And do you have to be in love with him to go to Atlanta?”
“Maybe?” Casey took out her day planner. “I would need to skip out on various things for work.”
“So you’re trying to figure out if you love Tyler more than you love your job?”
“I don’t love my job, so I guess even if I only love Tyler a little, he wins.”
“Well, there you go. Have fun in Atlanta.”
* * * *
That Thursday, Casey found herself rushing to the airport once again, and hopping on a flight to “the ATL.” Tyler had impressively organized people to take care of her, so there was a driver waiting for her at the airport, and when she was dropped off at the ballpark, someone who worked for the team met her and escorted her up to a luxury suite. She thought that was a little odd, since how would Tyler even be able to tell she was there supporting him if she was up on the second level, behind glass? But she understood when only a few minutes later, Tyler himself sneaked through the door in full uniform.
“Oh my God, you’re here.” He wrapped his arms around her and just held her. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” She felt her own flood of relief at holding him— love or lust or whatever it was— not seeing him for five straight days had left her with a physical ache to be with him. There was maybe an hour still to go before game time, but out in the stands, the seats were filling up and music was blaring. The Robins were taking batting practice and she wondered if Tyler would be in trouble for skipping it, or if maybe since the ankle incident, he’d been banned from shagging flies. “So are you going to tell me… ”