Cleat Catcher (The Cleat Chaser Duet Book 2)

by Celia Aaron

  “Mmm.” I lifted my hips to him, but he backed away. Tease.

  “I want to hear you say it.” His breath was maddening.

  “I want you to lick me,” I said on a pant.

  He gave me one long, slow lick from entrance to clit as he squeezed my breasts. I moaned and ran my fingers through his hair. But then he stopped.

  “Tell me what you really want me to do to you.” His eyes locked onto mine.

  I pulled his hair and tried to lift my hips again, but he held steady. His thumbs moved back and forth over my nipples, sending an electric current from them to my pussy.

  “Oh, god, Easton, I-I want you to eat my pussy. Fuck me. Make me come. Just, please—” My plea ended on a moan as he dove down, fastening his lips around my clit and sucking as his tongue flicked.

  My hips made small movements, grinding my pussy into his face as he groaned and concentrated on that one bundle of nerves that called all the shots. I tensed, my legs spreading even wider as my orgasm approached faster than one of Easton’s pitches.

  He moved his hands so that he pinched my nipples between his thumb and index finger. He bore down hard. It should’ve hurt. Instead, it shot me higher and my body clenched. My clit exploded in sparks of pleasure as I gasped and arched my back.

  My orgasm came in waves, my pussy squeezing and my entire body tensing as the bliss washed over me again and again. I moaned, a desperate sound that rolled along with the rise and fall of each surge of release. When I finally relaxed into the bed, I was covered in a fine sheen of sweat.

  He kissed my pussy before climbing on top of me. I was boneless, destroyed by his mouth, the same one he now pressed to mine. I tasted myself on him as he licked my lips and caressed my tongue, his hunger palpable. His cock was rock hard against my swollen flesh, and I rocked my hips against him, wanting him deep inside.

  He pulled back and placed his hands on my cheeks, just staring down at me. “You are so beautiful it almost hurts to look at you.”

  My heart, the same one I’d kept under lock and key for so long, was out of its cage and in grave danger of getting snagged by this man. And, instead of fear, I felt free. I craned my head up and kissed him, gently at first and then more desperately. Running my hands to his ass, I dug my nails in.

  “You ready?” he said against my mouth.

  “Yes.”

  “I’ll try and go easy.” He rested his forehead on mine.

  “Don’t. I want all of you. I need it.”

  He moved his hips down so his tip was at my entrance. “You’re sure?”

  “I’ve never been more sure.” I held his eyes as he pushed inside me. A quick sting of pain at the sudden intrusion and then pleasure as he eased inside my slick walls.

  I wrapped my hands around his neck, clinging to him as he pulled out and then pushed the rest of the way inside me.

  He groaned and dropped his head into the crook of my neck. “You’re like a fucking vise.” He pulled out and shoved in faster. “Fuck. Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine.” I was more than fine. I moved my hips, sliding back and forth on his cock. “Don’t hold back.”

  “I won’t.” He gripped my hair and started a hard rhythm, his hips slapping my thighs as he sucked on my jugular.

  I held onto him, digging my nails into his back as each thrust hit my spot. The bed shook and my moans grew louder. He moved one arm under my back and wrapped his fingers around my shoulder, pulling me down onto his cock with each intense stroke. I dug my heels into his lower back, feeling every bit of friction from his body as he surged inside me.

  “I have to see you.” He sat back on his knees and gripped my hips, lifting me to him as his eyes devoured my body.

  My breasts shook with his thrusts and I gripped his duvet. The slapping sound of skin on skin only turned me on more, along with his grunts. His eyes lingered at where our bodies joined and he slowed, pulling out to his tip and then sliding in.

  “Don’t stop.”

  “This is so fucking hot, watching you take every inch.” He pulled out again and eased inside.

  “Harder,” I begged.

  “Harder?” He smirked.

  “Yes!”

  He licked his thumb and pressed it to my clit as he restarted his punishing pace. “You like it rough, baby?”

  “Yes.” I reached up and braced myself against the wood headboard.

  He gripped one of my legs behind my knee and opened me wider. Swirling his thumb around my clit, he locked his eyes on mine.

  “Easton!” I couldn’t catch my breath.

  He pressed harder on my clit, dragging his thumb back and forth across it as he watched me, measuring every reaction.

  “Oh, god, I’m close.” My pussy tightened around him, my walls trying to hold him prisoner.

  “That’s right. Come on my dick.”

  His command sent me to a whole new level of hot. “Please—”

  “Come. On. My. Dick.” He emphasized each word with increasingly harder thrusts.

  I stretched my arms, locking them against the headboard, until I was shoving down onto his cock even more.

  He dug his fingers into my thigh. “Fucking hell. Now come for me.”

  Dirty talk was my weakness. My eyes rolled back in my head and I came in a rush. Easton turned me into a screamer, because all I could do was cry his name as my body stiffened and my pussy spasmed around his cock. He kept fucking me in short, strong movements, but he groaned and tensed.

  “Fuck, Kyrie. I can’t—” He pulled out as my orgasm began to subside.

  I looked down as he gripped his cock and shot hot streaks of come all over my pussy and stomach. I could finally breathe again and my lower back made contact with the bed. His cock pulsed a few more times and then he let out a labored breath.

  “Goddamn.” He grinned up at me, his hair stuck to his sweaty forehead. “You okay?”

  “I’m perfect.”

  He leaned over and kissed me. “I know you are.” Then he got up and hurried to the bathroom before coming back and cleaning me up.

  I shook my wrists out as he slid into bed.

  “Hurt?” He took my hands and turned them over, kissing the insides of my wrists. “I have wraps and all kinds of stuff.”

  He moved to get up but I grabbed his arm. “I’m fine. I just tensed when I…”

  “When you came?” He flashed a smile and lay on his back, pulling me into his side.

  “Yeah.”

  “So you’re shy now, but you loved it when you were coming on my cock and screaming my name?”

  My cheeks heated, and I tried to push away from him.

  “No, it’s hot. I love it.” He kissed my forehead and pulled me in closer so I rested my head on his chest.

  I listened to the steady thump of his heart, smelled his skin, felt the hard ridges of his abs. My eyes began to drift closed. But what if he didn’t want me to stay? The thought was mortifying.

  “I should go.” I hated the words as they rolled off my tongue.

  His arm flexed against my back. “No, you shouldn’t.”

  “I have work in the morning.”

  “You aren’t going anywhere. This is where you stay.” He nuzzled into my hair. “Please?”

  I sighed. No one could resist his post-sex voice, not when he was asking so sweetly. “Okay, but I have to be up by seven. I have work.”

  “Seven, right. Got it.” His voice softened and he relaxed his arm.

  “I mean it.”

  “Right.” He kissed my forehead again and grabbed his phone. I watched as he set an alarm with one hand. He set it for six and tossed it back to his nightstand.

  “I said seven.”

  “I know. That extra hour is for my breakfast in bed.” He smirked. “Good news for you. All you have to do is spread your legs.”

  A tingle went up my spine at his words. I sputtered and tried to turn and glare at him. But he kept me pressed against his chest.

  “Easton.” I nipped at hi
s skin and he laughed.

  “What?” His voice was a deep rumble against my ear.

  “Nothing.” I settled back against him, a smile stealing across my lips. “See you at six.”

  KYRIE

  “I HAVE TO go.” I laughed and tried dash out of bed.

  He caught me and tossed me back down before crawling on top of me and stealing my breath away with one of his amazing kisses.

  We’d been doing this for almost a week. I’d meet him after work or after a game, we’d eat, then we’d wear each other out in bed. I’d only slept alone two of the past five nights, and that was because Easton had to travel one state over to play. We’d still Skyped, and I got a thrill out of doing exactly what he told me, touching myself and imagining it was him. Now that he was back, we couldn’t get enough of each other.

  “Just stay for a little while longer. I want to see if I can make you reach that really high pitch again, the one that almost breaks glass.”

  I ran my fingers through his hair and grinned at him. “I was faking it.”

  He arched his brows. “Yeah?”

  I schooled my face into the most serious expression I had. “Yep. Every time. Totally faking.”

  “Even that time when I ate your pussy in the bathroom at Sal’s and your legs shook so bad I had to hold you up?”

  Heat rushed through me at the memory of him kneeling, one of my legs over his shoulder and his tongue buried inside me.

  “Yeah, totally a put-on. You fell for it. I bet you feel foolish as all hell right no—”

  He claimed my mouth again and surged forward with his hips, his hard cock rubbing against my clit.

  I broke the kiss and tried to wriggle out from under him. “I can’t, not again. I’m going to be late and walking like I belong at the OK Corral.”

  “You shouldn’t be late. I didn’t blow inside you.” He smirked and pinned my wrists above me. “Oh yeah, yeah I did. Lots of times. Thank god for the pill.”

  “You’re such a dick.”

  He angled his cock at my entrance. “You want my dick? That’s what I heard.”

  “Easton—”

  He plunged inside me and I moaned at the burst of pressure and heat. “Did I mishear you?” He nibbled at my neck as he fucked me in a casual rhythm.

  “Yes,” I breathed even as tension coiled in my stomach.

  He bit and then sucked the spot where my shoulder and neck meet, all the while speeding his pace. “You sure I misheard?” He laughed against my skin. “Tell the truth.”

  He stayed deep inside me, pulsing his body against mine to get the perfect friction on my clit. He already knew what I liked, what my body needed. “So, did I mishear?”

  I bit my lip as he kissed down to my breast. “No.”

  “Didn’t think so.” He let go of my wrists and ran one arm under my back, lifting me slightly and leveraging me into his strokes.

  I clawed at his back and wrapped my legs around him, keeping him deep and hitting all the right spots. My tension ramped up as he moved his forearm down to my lower back, arching me into him as he took one of my nipples into his mouth. Pressing my feet into his calves, I worked with his deep, steady pace, lifting my hips to the rhythm. The movement pushed me closer to the edge.

  “Grind on me, baby. Fuck, I love it when you do that.” His voice was just as big of a turn on as his body, masculine and rough.

  My hips made smaller and smaller movements as he concentrated his strokes on hitting my spot.

  “Easton, I’m going to come.” It was a breathy whisper.

  “I want to feel it. Milk my cock with your tight pussy.” His dirty words sent me plummeting into my orgasm.

  As soon as I started to come, he began thrusting harder, his cock rock hard and squeezing between my slick walls. I cooed his name on a loop as he pressed his forehead to mine.

  “Fuck,” he bit out and kissed me hard as his hips slowed into deep, steady thrusts and he groaned his climax into my mouth.

  He thrusted a few more times before breaking our kiss and taking in a gulp of air. I pushed the longer strands of hair off his forehead and stared into his deep blue eyes.

  A grin spread across his handsome face, the dimples making an appearance. “Now you can go to work.”

  “So, what’s your plan?” Nikki stripped her skirt and top off, opting for a baby tee in team colors and shorts so tight they may have been criminal.

  “I’m not sure. I don’t know what to write about. I mean, I know Graciela doesn’t want what I usually write for Teen Sparkle. I started a piece on the shift from the structural look of last winter to the more whimsical feel of the most recent shows, but it isn’t good enough. I need to go to an actual runway show to really get the heart of that idea. So I chunked it.”

  I dug around in my drawers, looking for my light pink eyelet skirt. I found it and pulled it out before shimmying it up to my hips. The hem fell right above my knees, and I paired it with some wedges and a white v-neck top.

  “What are you going to do?” Nikki walked into my bathroom and helped herself to my makeup. “Maybe you could write about something other than specific fashions. They have that gossip column in the back, sometimes they have ridiculous sex stories, and then their little love and relationship articles. What about something more human interest like those?” She poked herself in the eye with my mascara. “Fuck. That stings.”

  I laughed before joining her in the mirror and freshening up.

  “It’ll come to me.” Instead of spending my days at work actually working, I’d been racking my brain trying to figure out what sort of piece I needed to impress Graciela. I didn’t have the luxury of time, but I didn’t want to go down the wrong path and wind up turning in something that got me nowhere. I took a deep breath and blotted my lipstick. “I need to keep thinking about it, getting ideas, reading back issues.”

  Nikki sniffed one of my perfumes, lifted her shirt, and sprayed her pits.

  “Who does that?” I chose another scent and spritzed a small amount between my breasts.

  She smirked, her brown eyes frank. “Tits or pits doesn’t matter. As long as we smell as good as we look, we’re getting all the dick we can eat tonight.”

  I laughed and ran my brush through my hair before handing it off to Nikki who did the same. Once we were sufficiently primped, we took the short drive to the ballpark. Once again, Nikki’s horrible driving habits had me sweating to the point I reconsidered the whole “pit spray” idea.

  We pulled into the deck, and I shot out of the car, slamming the door behind me.

  “It wasn’t that bad.” Nikki sauntered up and hooked her arm in mine.

  “I think I’d rather be driven around by a serial killer than you.”

  “Really?” We walked past the deck, through the ticket gate, and up to the concourse. “What if he like, I don’t know, had a severed head collection in the back seat?”

  “One, you’re sick. Two, it would still be safer.”

  She snorted a laugh. “I think you’re being dramatic.”

  The ballpark smells—hotdogs, popcorn, and cotton candy—floated through the air as we joined the river of people entering the stadium.

  “Okay, what if your serial killer chauffeur handed you the lotion and told you to rub it on your skin?”

  A guy in front of us turned to look at Nikki as she used a perfectly creepy falsetto to ask her question. He gave us a flirty smile and collided with the couple walking in front of him. We laughed and walked around the pile up.

  “I’d take the lotion. Yep, I still prefer the serial killer.” I peeked through the openings in the concourse, staring down at the field and trying to get a glimpse of Easton.

  “Okay, okay. But what if…” She squeezed my elbow and widened her eyes. “He had a pencil ‘stache?”

  I laughed. “In that one instance, I would prefer you.”

  “I win!” She grinned and sped her pace toward the stairs leading down to our seats. The green of the field overwhelmed
me for that split second once I entered the stadium proper. It didn’t matter how many times I went to the ballpark, it always had the same magic.

  We were right behind home plate again, a spot that was quickly becoming one of my favorite places in the world. Watching Easton play was a particular thrill. The way his body moved, the way he was able to focus on something with such intensity, was undeniably impressive. And when he used that same focus on me? A shiver went down my spine at the thought.

  Finding our seats, we sat down and watched the teams warm up. Even from this distance, I could hear Braden talking shit to his pitch and catch partner. He and Nikki made a great pair. I scanned for Easton, but he must have been in the bullpen. I settled in, itching for the game to start. Music filtered over the stadium speakers and a light breeze kicked up, ruffling the emerald green blades of grass in the outfield. As night fell, the lights came up and everyone stood for the National Anthem.

  The announcers chattered as the players took the field. Easton wouldn’t be up yet. He was a closer, but I still loved getting glimpses of him in the dugout or the bullpen. The game was interesting, too.

  Braden trotted out and gave Nikki a small salute by touching his glove to his helmet. She squealed and wrapped her arm around my shoulders. “Isn’t he hot?” She asked the same question anytime he ran onto the field.

  “Yes. Very hot.” I put as much enthusiasm as I could muster into it, though I had no problem overlooking Braden in favor of Easton.

  “I know. I wonder who’s up first? I think Graves pitched last game, so he’s probably resting now. Hare maybe?” Nikki went through the starters, trying to figure out who it would be, when a player strutted out from the dugout.

  The announcer came over the speaker and belted out the pitcher’s name. It washed over me like a winter rain, frigid and draining.

  A cold sweat broke out along the back of my neck and my upper lip. Nikki’s grip on my shoulder tightened and, even though I was sitting, I felt like I was falling.

  “Sean Richards.” I said his name, the words unfamiliar on my tongue after two years of disuse. “He’s back.”