Baseball Bride

by Penny Wylder

  “Please, call me Gillian, or Gil.”

  “All right, Gil.” Carl smiles, fanning his arm for me to walk out the door ahead of him.

  He takes me through the front office and introduces me to some of the administrative staff who work there. Everyone seems really nice and relaxed; I notice the difference between this clinic and my old clinic immediately. It’s something I hadn’t noticed before, but here, looking at all the smiling faces, the easy manner in which Cal greets everyone, I realize my old clinic was bit stuffier, like people were always on guard. Everyone I meet seems to be truly happy to be here.

  This is exactly what I’ve been looking for.

  “Through here is our main gym where most of the rehabilitation takes place.” Carl pushes open one side of the double doors to a giant space. Every piece of athletic and physical therapy equipment you can imagine fills the room. There’s plenty of space for multiple clinicians to work with different patients in relative privacy. It makes my previous clinic look like a dump.

  “Wow,” I say, in awe over the size and organization of the space.

  “Yeah, I like this room too. And it’s not because I designed it.” He smiles teasingly as he crosses his arms over his chest proudly and looks out at the entire room. “We have a few private rooms in the back for more patients with more specific or intense injury recovery plans, or for the players who require more privacy. Obviously, everyone we treat here has different needs and our objective is to figure out the specific treatment for each patient. There’s no “one size fit all” approach at our clinic.”

  “No, no, no,” a loud, deep voice cuts through air, and steals my attention. “You’re holding it all wrong. You need to choke up on the bat more, don’t puss out and grip it like it’s glass. Really get in there, hold it like it’s your cock. You ain’t afraid to squeeze that tight, are ya?”

  “Fuck off, Daniels,” the young man says.

  “Fine, do it your way, but you’d never hit one of my curve balls with a grip like that.”

  The young player gives him a stink eye as the man he called Daniels moves around the room. He approaches another guy who’s currently throwing a ball at a target.

  I’m watching him from the corner of my eye while Carl continues his tour, explaining each and every station we pass. I can’t look away from Daniels, but I’m trying like hell to stay focused and give Carl my full attention.

  “Mm hm,” I casually say, half listening, catching only a word here or there. But that’s all right, it’s all I need. I already know what he’s going to say before he says it; I’m highly familiar with all the equipment here.

  The man looks a little older than most of the players in here, maybe late twenties or early thirties. He’s currently adjusting the stance of a kid who was just pitching, and the kid doesn’t look happy about it.

  And yet, as he gears up and throws his next pitch, he’s spot on. Daniels grins, flashing him a smirk. “See, told ya so,” he says as he turns his attention to—me.

  He’s looking right at me. Shit, look away!

  Too late.

  He’s walking straight for us, his shark like stare causing my heart to jump in my chest. “Carl, what brings you out of your cave?” he asks, holding out his arms with a playful grin.

  “Ryon Daniels, they finally gave you the okay start therapy?”

  “Yes, sir, they did. And according to the doctor, my arm is bionic now, sooo. . .” He draws out the word as he flexes his bicep. Wincing, he rubs his shoulder and shakes his head. “Almost there, eighty percent I’d say.”

  “Well, that’s where we come in, or more importantly, she comes in.” Carl holds out his hand in my direction. “Gillian Sannow, meet Ryon Daniels. Ryan Daniels, meet your new physical therapist, Gillian Sannow.”

  Ryon Daniels. . . The name shoots around inside my head because it sounds familiar, and a few seconds of staring at his face, and it all clicks. I know exactly who he is. Hell, anybody who watches baseball would.

  Ryon Daniels, number twelve, and the famous closer for the Silver Hawks. Well, he was the closer for the Silver Hawks. After back to back shut out games last season, he tore his rotator cuff in the ninth inning of the last playoff game to win the division series.

  I honestly didn’t expect to ever see him back on a field, let alone this soon.

  My eyes meet his and I instantly feel a shiver run up and down my body. His eye are even greener than they appear on television. His jaw is sharp, his cheekbones high, and the big almond shape of his eyes makes his pupils giant like pools.

  I’m falling in, my entire body leaning slightly toward his as his eyes just pull on every fiber in my body.

  “Gillian,” Ryon says, stretching out his hand. “I’ve actually heard a lot about you.”

  Instantly, my defenses go up and I feel offended. “What is that supposed to mean?” I ask, my tone accusatory. After the accusations at my last job, I have no idea what sort of talk is floating around the rumor mill.

  He looks at me oddly. “Uhm, nothing except that you know what you’re doing and you’ve helped out some buddies of mine.”

  He’s about to drop his hand, but I don’t want to come off as rude before I even start working with him. Stretching out my hand, I take his and shake it, forcing out a little laugh to try to cover up how incredibly weird I just was.

  “I’m sorry, I should be saying thank you. It’s really great to meet you. I hope to be able to get you back on the field very soon.”

  He licks his lips, and I notice he circles the nub on my wrist before releasing my hand slowly. The tips of his fingers tickle the inside of my palm as he pulls away. It feels deliberate, not accidental at all.

  Swallowing hard, I touch my throat and look off into the room.

  “I’m sure you will.” The corner of his lip twitches slightly into a soft smile, and his eyes stay firmly set on mine. “I’m counting on it.”

  “Well, let’s continue with this tour. I’ll show you the staff break room and where your office will be.” Carl slaps Ryon on the back as he takes the first step to break this greeting. “Ryon, go start your stretches. Enough messing around with my patients. You’re here for us to take care of you. Don’t get too comfortable here. We’re going to have you back on the field in no time.”

  “Got it,” he says. “I’ll try to focus on my own rehab, but you know I’m a team player. I can’t not help these guys if I think I have something to add to their treatment.”

  Carl half grunts and half laughs as he starts walking. Following him as he continues with his tour, I take a look over my shoulder. Ryon pulls his bottom lip in, biting down on it. His lids lower as he watches my ass, like he’s enjoying every step I take.

  My body ignites on the inside, making my skin warm and my belly swirl.

  No. Can’t do it. It’s unethical. He’s going to be your client, Gil!

  Shaking my head to myself, I force the feelings away.

  It doesn’t matter who he is, or how famous or how hot or how damn sexy and strong his body looks. . .

  He’s off limits.

  Spreading the oil down his arm, I begin to massage the muscle with firm, deep circles. He groans slightly, and I feel my pussy clench.

  “That feels amazing,” he says as I press harder, using the full weight of my body to work out the knots.

  “It’ll loosen you up a lot. Once I get out these kinks, you’ll have much better range of motion in your shoulder.”

  I’m trying. I’m trying so damn hard to ignore the fire in my belly as I rub this hot oil on Ryon’s skin. But it’s so hard, his back is rigid, built and constructed with perfectly shaped muscles and a nice round ass.

  My fingers slip easily over his muscles, and every stroke turns my nipples into peaks and my pussy into a melting pot. I glide down his spine, then move back up, using a steady pressure.

  Ryon moans softly, and I find myself going lower, stopping just above his ass, eager to tear the sheet back. Biting on my bottom lip, hi
s glistening skin and hard body are making me hot.

  “I’m going to have you turn over now.”

  He grunts and groans a little as he flips to his back. My eyes move down his chest and I suck in a gasp of air. He’s rock hard. His cock thick and standing at attention.

  “You, um, you—” I start to say, but I can’t get the words out. He opens one eye, and I softly point to his waist.

  Ryon looks down and smirks. “What can I say? I like a good massage.” He smiles up at me, jerking his hips to make his cock jump. “I think he wants to be touched too.” Smirking, he licks his lips and wags his brows.

  What do I do?

  I know I need to decline and walk away, tell him it’s not appropriate, remind him I’m his physical therapist, and that’s it. But it’s Ryon fucking Daniels. Honestly, I don’t think it’s humanly possible. He’s sexy as hell, and no matter how much I try to pretend like I’m not turned on by him, my body betrays me at every turn.

  My pussy is seeping, throbbing and urging me to just take him for a ride. My nipples are tender and tingling as they scrape the inside of my bra, begging for him to pinch and pluck them.

  “Does he now?” I ask with a hint of seduction in my voice.

  Ryon grins, his eyes licking up and down my body. “He does.” Rocking his hips, his dick presses against the white sheet.

  I can’t stop staring at his cock. My tongue runs across my bottom lip as my mouth waters. “Maybe I can help.” I move my hand down the edge of the table, and slip it up under the sheet.

  The tips of my fingers touch his outer thigh, and my skin sizzles as my pussy bears down again. I’m soaking wet. I can feel the damp spot in my panties as my heart begins to race wildly in my chest.

  This is wrong, wrong at every turn. And yet, I can’t stop myself. I’m a magnet and he’s the metal, thick, hard and drawing me in.

  Reaching the edge of his shaft, I softly curl my fingers around the base. Ryon instantly moans, dropping his head back and closing his eyes. “Fuck yeah,” he whispers as he pushes his cock into my hand.

  Holding his dick tightly, I start to move up and down. Reaching the crown, I squeeze it in my palm, quickly slipping it back down until I hit his base. Up and down, up and down, I jerk his cock.

  The sheet is still in place, but I can easily picture his dick. My fingertips barely touch as I hold his shaft, and the pads of my fingers run over thick veins and his plump tip. There’s a small wet spot growing in the center of the sheet, right above his cock. My hips are starting to roll, and my pussy is pulsing violently.

  I feel a tickle on my thigh, it surprises me, and causes me to dart my eyes to my leg. Ryon is moving his fingers closer and closer to my pussy, the tips of his fingers are stretching under the edge of my shorts.

  Naturally and without a second thought, I spread my legs wider, giving him room. I’m moving my hand faster and faster as he reaches my panties and flicks them to the side. His finger slips between my lips, and he moves up my slit until he hits my needy button.

  My thighs tremble and my knees almost buckle as he flicks my clit. I’m a dripping candle, hot, wet, my arousal slicking his finger. He’s rubbing my clit, when he suddenly spears my pussy with a single finger, drawing a heavy moan out of my body.

  The more he works my pussy, the faster I stroke his dick. I can’t even control it, it’s like every move he makes on my body causes my hand to react on his. I’m squeezing harder, cupping his tip in my palm as I glide back down. He’s pushing his finger in and out of my pussy, curling it up so it hits my G-spot.

  “Mm,” I groan quietly as I nibble on my bottom lip.

  “You like that?” he asks, and I shake my head yes. “Good, I can’t wait to watch you come.” Ryon smiles as he thrusts inside my body with a second finger. “Come for me, baby. I want to watch you fall apart.”

  My hand jumps under the sheet, and I feel his cock throb. His thick thigh muscles go rigid and Ryon’s eyes squeeze tightly shut as he pushes his hips harder and harder into my hand.

  I’m so close, so fucking close to coming, and then. . .

  “You ready, Gil?” Ryon asks, rapping lightly on the door of my office.

  Opening my eyes, I focus on his face as he wraps his shirt around his neck and holds the towel in place around his hips.

  “You were right, the sauna really does make my muscles feel looser.” Rocking his shoulders back and forth, he takes a step inside my office. I can see his skin glistening from sweat, and his chest flexes and his abs tighten.

  That was all a dream. A dark, twisted, deliciously dirty dream. And now I’m wet as fuck.

  “Um, yeah, I’m ready, just give me one second,” I answer him swiftly, rearranging some papers and files on my desk. “Just give me a minute. I’ll meet you in the massage room down the hall. Second one on the right.”

  Fuck. What the hell is wrong with me?

  I watch Ryon turn away and head for the massage room, and I rest my head back on my chair, letting out a deep breath. My heart is racing and I can feel the heat in my cheeks as they blush.

  I just had a very vivid and pantie melting daydream about my client before our first actual session. How messed up am I? Is this normal?

  I can’t be doing this! It’s not right!

  Once I get myself under control, I follow him down the hallway. I pause at the threshold to the room, eyeing him up and down in just his thin, terrycloth towel wrapped around his waist. Swallowing hard, I run my hands over my head and take in a deep breath. Announcing myself, I smile big. “Okay, time to get down to business. Let’s start so we can get you back on the field.”

  The sooner the better.

  The sooner he’s back to full strength, the sooner I can get him the hell out of here. The simple fact I was able to have such a clear and nerve ruffling vision about this man is enough to drive me crazy. I can’t risk losing control. I can’t risk doing something I might regret.

  I’m not sure how long I’ll be able to keep my hands strictly professional if I have to stare at a man like Ryon Daniels, and touch his half naked body any longer than necessary.

  He smiles as he walks toward me and around the massage table, brushing the sharp edge of my nipples with the outside of his arm as he goes by. My stomach lurches into my throat.

  Does he know?

  Are my dirty thought written all over my face?

  Because the smirk on his face says he knows everything.

  3

  Ryon

  “Okay,” she says, slipping her hands softly down my spine until they’re just gone.

  She moves around the room as I push up on my forearms. I don’t get up right away. . . Because I can’t. For very apparent reasons that are hard and stiff at the moment.

  I’m fucking hard as rock. Did she slip a Viagra in my cucumber flavored water?

  Her hands, fuck, her hands are magic on my body. For an hour I felt her soft and strong hands all over my body. I was hard a minute into the massage, and stayed hard the entire time. I feel like a goddamn teenager right now, blue balls and all.

  “I’ll give you a few minutes to get dressed, and when you’re ready, come meet me in the gym so we can go over the prescribed exercises you need to do at home.”

  “Sounds good.” My voice croaks, and she hesitates for a second, giving me a puzzled look. But she doesn’t seem to pay any more attention and leaves me alone.

  Letting out a heavy breath, I push up and swing my feet off the edge of the table. I’m so damn hard, my dick is standing straight up under the white sheet, and it doesn’t feel like it’s going to go away any time soon.

  It’s insane the things this woman can do to me with her hands. It wasn’t even sexual. I was staring at the floor the entire time during the massage, but the harder my dick grew, and each of those times I could feel her breasts brushing up against my skin as she leaned over me, made me want to turn my head, to see her face, her beautiful body. Fuck, I don’t know if I never want her to put me through that tor
ture again or if I want it every day for the rest of my life.

  Pressing bare feet into the cool wood floor, I stand and try to walk off my boner. Come on, go down already. Setting my hands on my hips, I walk a track around the massage table, my cock fully at attention, sticking straight out.

  Okay, think of something gross, something that isn’t as sexy as Gillian Sannow.

  Nothing comes to mind. All I can see is her perfect heart shaped lips, her round cheeks, the cute little beauty mark that’s on her right cheek. Even under her baggy, blue t-shirt, and her khaki shorts, I can tell she has a body I could fuck for days.

  Porcelain skin, rosy cheeks, her nipples pressing against her shirt to say hello. And her ass, fuck that ass is biteable.

  This isn’t helping. . .

  Looking at my waist, my dick has found its way into my hand and I’m slowly stroking up and down. Gripping the tip in my palm, I squeeze my head and glide back down. My balls draw up, tightening against my body as I keep jerking my cock. I need this.

  There’s no way to back out of this now. I have to get off or I’ll be hurting for the rest of the day. Ensuring no one interrupts me, I lean one hand against the closed door. I imagine her face if she came in and found me with my hard cock in my hand.

  Her eyes jump open wide as she sees me stroking myself. But her surprise would quickly turn to lust, a dirty, greedy lust. She’d close the door behind her, licking her lips as she locks the handle.

  Fuck, I’d love it if she really showed up right now.

  My hand moves faster, with firmer pulls and harder jerks. The fantasy in my head is strong and clear, and the only thing that will end this ache between my thighs.

  I imagine her dropping to her knees and taking my dick in her hands. She licks her lips, and drives her mouth over my cock.

  Spitting in my hand, I use the saliva to make my dream more real and alive. Her warm mouth sucks me deeper inside, and her cheeks hollow as I reach the back of her throat. I imagine how silky her hair would feel in my fingers as I guide her head, fucking her face.