by Lexy Parker
“This is amazing,” Evie mumbled around a mouthful of the rich cake.
“My Martha is an excellent cook. It’s a miracle Dayton and I managed to keep the pounds off. She’s been cooking like this since I met her. Hell, it’s one of the reasons I married her,” my dad said with a small laugh.
My mom lit up under the praise. I loved seeing her so happy. “It is really good, Mom.”
“I’ll cut off a chunk and give it to you to take back to your place.”
“Thank you.”
We finished our dessert and sat around the table chatting about the coming summer. Evie was making excellent conversation with my father about what he was growing in the fields and how long he’d been farming. I could see how happy it made him to talk about the thing he loved most in the world, just behind my mother.
Evie and I helped clear the table, even though my mother insisted we didn’t need to. By the time we were ready to go, I felt like Evie and my parents had known each other forever.
“You are welcome to come by anytime. Don’t wait for Dayton to be in town. You come on by and feel free to bring your sweet mama,” my mom said, giving Evie a big hug.
My dad shook my hand before patting me on the back. “See you later, son,” he said as we walked out the door.
I had to turn back to make sure it was really him. It was. He was looking at me like he used to after I pitched a no-hitter in high school. He looked proud. I hadn’t seen that look in a long time. I realized I had been craving it, needing his approval and there it was.
“Do you want to come to my place?” I asked Evie, hoping she’d stay the night.
She smiled. “Sure.”
I drove home, still trying to figure out what my dad was about. I was lost in thought as we headed inside. Evie kicked off her shoes, making herself right at home.
“Thanks for going to dinner with me,” I said, moving to stand in front of her and wrapping my arms around her waist.
She reached up and looped her arms around my neck. “Your parents are really nice, like really, really nice. I don’t understand why you’re not getting along with them.”
I shook my head. “I get along great with my mom. It’s my dad who isn’t exactly fond of me.”
“He seemed very fond of you tonight. He was cheerful and polite. The two of you were getting along great.”
I nodded. “We were and I’m still a little confused by that. He hasn’t been that way with me in a long time. It has to be because you were there.”
She giggled. “I guess I’m going to have to come to dinner more often. It’s my personal mission in life to see you and your dad happy and on good terms again.”
I smiled, very much liking the sound of that. “I think I could live with that. I know my mother would be thrilled.”
“Then I will make it happen.”
I leaned down and kissed her. I had to kiss her. I had been dying to kiss her all night. Now that we were alone in my house, still riding a bit of a chocolate high, I had much bigger plans than a kiss or two. She tasted like chocolate. Her natural sweetness combined with the sweet dessert gave me an intense rush. I was suddenly desperate for her once again.
Chapter 26
Evie
The man could kiss. I would never get used to the way he kissed with such passion, gentleness and complete surrender. I couldn’t stop the moan from escaping as he deepened the kiss, going on a journey to touch my tonsils. I felt as if he were going to swallow me whole and I didn’t mind a bit. I pressed myself against his body, needing to feel him. I rubbed against him like a cat, practically purring as I came into contact with his erection against my belly.
“Bedroom,” he whispered, coming up for air, his voice raspy.
I nodded, immediately heading down the hall to where I remembered his bedroom to be. I heard a noise and turned to look behind me. He’d pulled off his shirt and was already working on his jeans. I did the same, yanking off my shirt, tossing it in the hallway and going after my pants. By the time we made it to his bed, we were both in nothing but our underwear and that took seconds to make disappear. I loved looking at him.
His body was sinful, decadent, more so than the rich chocolate cake we had feasted on at dinner. I could gorge myself on him. I ate him alive with my eyes, absolutely ravenous for him. I ran my hand over his chest, down his flat abs and shuddered with anticipation at the thought of the hard length jutting out from between his legs, filling me. I could feel the raw power vibrating through him and knew he felt the same sense of urgency I was battling. I wanted to skip all the foreplay and get right to the best part.
“I need you. I want you inside me, now,” I told him, reaching down and squeezing his ass with both hands as I pulled him against me.
“Shh, we have all night,” he said, dropping a kiss on my lips, the backs of his knuckles running up and down my sides.
“I don’t care. I want it now!” I said with more force than I meant, reaching for his length and squeezing it before cupping his balls in my hand, letting him know exactly what it was I wanted. It wasn’t ladylike, I knew that, but in that moment, I wasn’t feeling very much like a lady.
I looked into his green eyes and saw them darken, his nostrils flared as he reached for my waist and spun me around. My thighs were against the mattress, his tall, hard body pushed against my back as he squeezed my breasts, rotating his pelvis against me, teasing me to the point I wanted to scream out for him to take me.
He used his knee to spread my legs before moving his hand between them. I gasped, feeling the intimate touch and waiting for him to give me what I was demanding. One finger slid inside my already wet passage. I groaned, bending forward and resting my hands against the mattress. He worked his finger in and out, readying me for his invasion.
When I felt the hard head pushing against me, I went stiff, anticipating him entering my body. One of his big hands moved to my hip, holding me steady as he pushed his way inside, slowly filling me, inch by beautiful inch. I moaned, long and low, my head dropping between my arms as my hands pressed flat against the bed.
“God damn, it feels so good to be inside you,” he groaned.
I nodded, not speaking, my body too focused on the pleasurable spasms rocking through me. I pushed back, taking him impossibly deeper.
I cried out, feeling stretched beyond what I had ever felt before. He was so deep, making me feel so full, I could think of nothing else but him between my legs. Being with him was intense. It consumed all my thoughts and filled me with such ecstasy I didn’t want to think of anything else except for him.
“More,” I whimpered, wanting all of him. I could feel him holding back.
“Evie.” He grunted my name as if he were in pain.
I pushed back, hard and fast, earning a deep grunt from him as I nearly knocked him on his ass. I rotated my hips, groaning as his cock touched previously untouched nerve endings. It all felt too good. I knew I wasn’t going to be able to last long before I erupted into a hot, gooey mess.
“Oh God,” I cried out, my fingers curling into the blanket.
“I can’t last,” he rasped.
“Please,” I begged.
He pulled out, only the tip of his cock remaining inside. I felt my body squeezing, contracting, trying to pull him back inside. A series of violent volts of electricity rocketed through me, pulling me up to my tiptoes as he hovered right at the entrance. He didn’t move or push in any farther. It was the worst and the best kind of tease ever. I couldn’t stop my body’s reaction to the tantalizing cock pressing against the sensitive nub.
I cried out, my back arching and my muscles clenching as the orgasm pulled me into its grip. The way my body was reacting was as if I hadn’t had sex in years instead of a day. I couldn’t get enough of him. I slapped the mattress with my hand, begging for it to end and to last forever. He pushed all the way inside, once again planting himself deep inside my body.
I was gasping for air when the orgasm finally released me from its
clutches. I dropped my elbows to the bed, hiking my ass higher into the air as I struggled to regain control of my breathing. I was on the verge of passing out when he started to slide in and out of my body, awaking all those little nerve endings that had been fired off with the first orgasm.
“You’re so wet,” he whispered reverently.
“You make me so wet,” I replied.
He kept pumping into me, going fast enough to nearly topple me to my face before slowing down, prolonging every stroke as he eased in and out of my body. I felt like I was on the best roller coaster ride in the world. He took me high, dropped me low, turned me inside out and upside down before starting another steep climb, slow and full of anticipation.
“God, I can’t get enough of you. I want you every minute of every day. I watch you and think about how you taste, how you feel when your body is squeezing mine and I get hard,” he murmured, his hand reaching around and gently caressing my breast.
His words were sweet and honest and made me feel wanted. “I always want you. My body craves yours. My body weeps for you,” I whispered, the words shocking myself.
“Oh shit!” he gasped, his thighs slapping against the back of my own.
His body slammed against mine, one hand gripping my shoulder and the other holding on to my hip as he plunged himself inside mine with such force that without his hold I would have gone sailing across the bed. I groaned, digging my hands into the blanket and trying my best to stay on my feet. It was no use. I collapsed against the bed.
He roared, lifting me by my hips and positioning me on the bed before crawling onto the mattress and finding his way back inside me again. The man was on a mission. I could feel his need growing with every stroke. He was desperate. His desperation was making me hotter than I’d ever been. I could feel another eruption coming and braced myself for what would be another mind-melting orgasm.
“Dayton!” I screamed his name as the first tingles of the second orgasm spread over my skin, tickling every part of me.
“Fuck! I can’t stop!” he shouted.
“Don’t stop, don’t stop,” I panted, the feeling of being catapulted into somewhere magical wrapped around me. Everything else faded away as I only felt, all thought ceasing as I gave myself over to what he was doing to my body.
I heard him suck in hard, ragged breaths before there was nothing but a low groaning sound as he met me in that magical place of sweet ecstasy. He jerked and spasmed, his arm around my waist and holding me against him as he released all his desire into me.
He fell to the side, his good arm flung out across the bed. I giggled, dropping down and snuggling against him. It was good between us, but I wasn’t sure that was enough. I wasn’t the type of woman who did flings. I knew it was normal for my age, but I wasn’t all that normal. I ran my fingertips over his chest, making little circles and thinking about what I wanted to say.
“Is everything okay?” he asked.
I licked my lips. “I was just wondering what’s going to happen when you have to leave and go back to your life.”
He laughed, turning his head to look at me. “I guess I’m going to be taking some extra luggage.”
“Extra luggage?”
“I’ll have to bring you with me and you’re going to have your own luggage.”
I smiled. It was a sweet thought, but I knew it wasn’t reality. “I know this is only a fling while you’re here. I don’t expect anything more.”
“I never said that,” he replied.
“No, you didn’t have to. I like this, whatever it is. I’m okay with it just being this,” I told him, not truly believing it all.
He was quiet for a moment, his arm wrapping around my naked body and pulling me in close. “It doesn’t have to be just this.”
I wanted to believe he believed that, but there was no way I was moving to California and giving up my job and leaving my mom. I couldn’t do it. And he wouldn’t be happy living in Hope. He was the type of person who wanted bigger and brighter things. I understood and didn’t hold it against him. I couldn’t tie him down. It would change who he was, and I liked who he was, even if that meant I only got to see him on occasion.
I closed my eyes and thought about what my life would be like when he left. It would definitely be a bit quieter and a lot less satisfying, but I would survive. I thought about his life and that first meeting we’d had. Dayton was a player in the literal and metaphorical sense. He would be back in the city, back in the game and there would be hundreds of women throwing themselves at him. I had no claim to him. I couldn’t be jealous.
I pushed all thoughts of him leaving and another woman getting to touch his body from my mind. I told myself to live in the moment. I had him right then. I stretched my arm across him and hugged him close, my cheek over his heart as I let the steady beating lull me into sleep.
Chapter 27
Dayton
I gave Evie a kiss goodbye, promising to see her by that night or tomorrow morning. I hated leaving her. I was only flying up to Nashville for the day to meet with the team of doctors and to get another MRI done. I couldn’t imagine what it was going to be like when I had to leave to go back to my team—if I went back to the team.
I drove to the airport, where the private plane the team had hired to ferry me to the city was already waiting. I knew my coach was just as anxious to check the progress of my healing as I was. The arm still hurt like hell and was stiff, but I kept telling myself I only needed to do some stretches and some PT, and it would be all good again.
I was met at the airport by a driver who spirited me to the hospital, where I was immediately shown into a small room. I was asked a series of questions about the arm, what I’d been doing with it and whether or not it still hurt. I admitted to some pain, but not the full extent. Then I was taken down a hall and put through a series of tests. I felt like a guinea pig by the time I was given a sandwich from a local restaurant and told to sit tight in the first small room. I wasn’t allowed to sit in the waiting room for fear someone would recognize me.
I ate my sandwich, growing more worried by the minute. When the door opened, I wiped my mouth and waited to see who was coming in. It was the first doctor that had come to see me in Hope along with a team rep.
“What’s the verdict?” I asked, wanting to get to the heart of the matter.
The doctor sat down and opened the small leather folder that contained his iPad. He pulled up a picture of what I guessed was my shoulder.
“I am recommending surgery,” he said.
I groaned. “Really? Didn’t it heal at all?”
The doctor shook his head. “I’m afraid not.”
I took a deep breath, running my hand over my face. “What does surgery mean? How long before I can play again?” I asked.
The doctor looked at the team rep. I hated what I was seeing. I wasn’t a little kid. It was my fucking body and I didn’t appreciate them trying to keep shit from me.
“I don’t know,” the doctor said.
“You don’t know? What does that mean?” I asked anxiously.
“The surgery is going to change the way your arm moves. You are going to lose some strength.”
I nodded. “Okay, so I train and rehab and I’ll be back for next season. That’s okay,” I said, disappointed to lose out on the rest of the season but anxious that I could return. There was hope.
The doctor once again looked to the team rep. I slapped my hand on the table, bringing his attention back to me—the patient in the room.
“I’m sorry, but the chances of you returning to a pitching position is slim,” he said solemnly.
I shook my head. “Slim, but not ruled out?” I asked hopefully.
The doctor nodded. “We’ll know more once we get into the surgery. You’re young and in good shape. You might be one of the few people who can regain full use of the arm.”
“What happens if I don’t get the surgery?” I asked.
The doctor winced. “It might or might not
heal on its own. I would lean towards the latter.”
“Why won’t I get full use back? Are you saying I won’t be able to pitch, or I won’t be able to use the arm in general?” I asked, suddenly worried there was more that wasn’t being said.
“You might not have the same range of motion that you have now. Everyone heals differently. As your doctor, I have to give you all the possible scenarios. I can tell you I have performed the surgery hundreds of times and in most cases, the patient has a positive outcome. The pain is gone and that is generally the desired result,” he explained.
I nodded. “Okay, so, I get the surgery, my arm isn’t going to hurt anymore, but I won’t ever play baseball again. I don’t get the surgery and I may or may not heal on my own, but I will still not play baseball again.”
The doctor nodded. “That’s about the gist of it. In either scenario, there is still the chance of you healing completely and getting back in the game.”
I took a deep breath. “All right. I need to think about it, and I’ll get back to you.”
The team rep cleared his throat. “We need to discuss this with the coach and the owners.”
I looked at him. “I’ll discuss it with Victor once I’ve had some time to think about what I want to do. Ultimately, this is my life and my health,” I stated firmly.
The rep cleared his throat. “The team does have a stake in this.”
I glared at him. “No shit. I get that, but the team will go on—I might not. I have to look out for me.”
“Yes, sir, I understand that. Should we call Victor?”
I shrugged my shoulder. “Go ahead if you want to. Victor isn’t going to make this decision for me.”
I got up and walked out of the room, feeling a little lost. I had actually hoped the doctor would tell me I had a couple more weeks of rest and then I could get back into training to take back my spot as the starting pitcher for my team.