Hitting the Curve

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Hitting the Curve Page 5

by Regina Wade


  “Come on. Walk me home. We still have to actually get to work, you know.” I tug on his arm.

  “We’ve been working all day, sha.” Levi’s voice is back to amused and flirty, the traces of seriousness and sadness washed away like they never existed.

  See, he’s an expert.

  “I meant working on our project, Levi.” I say with a huff. He links his arm through mine, a surprisingly sweet and chivalrous gesture from such a frustrating man.

  “I do, too. Really.”

  I roll my eyes at him, but he just grins.

  “We didn’t crack a single book. It was fun, don’t get me wrong, but…” I trail off.

  He waves me away with his free hand.

  “That stuff we can do on our own. A little solo research. You know, like you did this morning.” His grin widens, and I smack his arm, but it just makes him laugh. Hitting his powerhouse of an arm probably hurts my hand more than it does the steel of his muscles. I’m suddenly possessed by the urge to tear his shirt off just to admire the impossibly hard musculature underneath.

  “Ok, so what work did we get done?” I ask, acid dripping off my voice.

  Not the only part of me that’s dripping.

  “Trust. Breaking the ice. We’re a team now, Charity, and so we need to know each other intimately. Teams aren’t just groups of talented people working hard next to each other. You’ve got to work together or you just get in each other’s way.” He presses his hip against mine as he says it. Instinctively I lean with him so we don’t trip on each other’s feet.

  “See?” His smug smirk is as infuriating as it is hot.

  “Fine. You win, Levi.” I say with every ounce of sarcasm I can muster. It’s not nearly enough to wipe the grin off his face.

  “I knew you’d see it my way, sha. Now, you don’t stay up too late studying. We’ve got work to do tomorrow.”

  Levi leans in quick as a whip, pressing his lips against mine. This time our kiss isn’t nearly as chaste, his hands on my hips pulling me against him. For one sweet, sexy moment our bodies are pressed fully together. I can feel every ounce of his perfectly toned body, even through our clothing, and I whimper against him. My lips part, his tongue pressing gently but insistently against mine.

  Stars. Sparks. My eyes flutter closed as Levi gives me my first real kiss. I thought I’d crossed that river back in junior high, but none of the clumsy make-outs had been anything like this. The entire world drops away, everything but the feeling of him. He tastes sweet, the hint of caramel ice cream on his breath. He smells better: grass stains, well-oiled leather, blooming magnolia, sinful heat.

  He ends the kiss, stepping back, the flecks of gold in his emerald eyes dancing and sparkling with need.

  “Good night, Charity. Thank you for the best first date of my life.”

  Chapter 10

  Levi

  Don't stand there and let it go bye

  Swing hard and aim for the stands! — Corey Smith, ‘The Baseball Song’

  I want nothing more than to show up on Charity’s doorstep again the next morning. Catching her in the act was incredibly hot, and after our incredible date I can’t help but picture her naked under the sheets, hands between her gorgeous thighs.

  Unfortunately, she’s not the only one with a lot riding on scholarships and hard work. The day before had been my one day off for the week, my rest day from the routine of practice and exercise.

  Learning to take a break has always been the hardest part of being an athlete for me. I always want to keep going. As a kid, I’d throw pitches from dawn to dusk, and then wheedle the groundskeeper to leave the lights on so I could keep throwing through the night.

  It was Coach who sat me down and told me about burn-out. He taught me about the importance of maintenance and rest.

  It feels good to slip my glove on and start warming up, even if I’d rather be slipping my hand into something a lot more blonde and curvy.

  “Well, did you score last night, Miller?” Trevor asks by way of greeting.

  I roll my eyes. “You know I don’t kiss and tell, Trev.”

  The ball sails back and forth between us endlessly as we chat. The thunk of ball meeting leather is rhythmic, like the ticking of a clock.

  “Come on, at least tell me what you did.” Thunk.

  “Date stuff. You know, we walked. Talked. Had some ice cream.” Thunk.

  “Damn, a real date huh? I didn’t know you knew how to do anything but sling balls, Miller.”

  Thunk.

  “Come on, Trevor. We’re here to work,” I shrug, trying to change the subject.

  “Nuh-uh,” He shakes his head, snagging the ball out of the air easily. “This is too juicy. I’ve been your catcher for almost three years, Miller, and I’ve never once seen you take a girl for coffee, let alone spend a whole day with her.” He tosses the ball my way.

  Thunk.

  “Let it go, Trevor. Seriously.” I put a little heat on my toss back, and the resulting slap of ball meeting glove echoes around the entire field. Heads turn our way as a few other guys pause in their own games of catch to watch.

  “Fine, fine. Ow. You don’t have to punish me, dad, I’ll be good.” He shakes his hand out, wincing. I roll my eyes. Trevor is always so melodramatic.

  “But do you even know she likes you?”

  The feel of her body pressed against me, her soft lips parted, whimpering as we come together. The hottest kiss of my entire life. The last first kiss I ever want to have.

  “... I just know, Trevor, ok?” I grumble, contemplating putting enough force into my throw to leave his hand bruised for a week.

  “Fine, fine. Peace, Levi. Don’t take my hand off. I’m just saying, that girl is hard to read. She keeps her head down. Like you.”

  I smile back at my best friend.

  “That’s why I know. We’re cut from the same cloth. Two peas in a pod, ya hear?”

  The rest of the practice goes smoothly. Our team is a well-oiled machine, and despite Charity slipping and sliding along my thoughts, my focus is still sharp enough to keep the guys in check.

  “Good work today, Miller.” Coach rumbles at me as I head towards the locker room. The rest of the guys go ahead, leaving me behind to hear his assessment as usual. Coach is sitting on a bleacher, idly reading a newspaper held out in front of him. He always catches up on the news while he watches us drill.

  “How’s the class going?” he asks innocently.

  “Fine. We have a project first thing, but nothing I can’t handle.”

  “Good, good. Because a little birdy told me that you were blowing off work to hang around with some cute blonde number.” He looks up at me from his newspaper, eyes cutting into mine.

  “She’s my partner for this project,” I grimace. “It’s not like that…” I trial off lamely. It’s exactly like that, but it’s so much more.

  He harrumphs, turning a page.

  “Just keep your grades and your pants up, Miller. You don’t need any distractions, hey?”

  I nod. “I hear you Coach. I’m doing my best. I really am.”

  The gruff expression fades from his face, the stern disciplinarian replaced by an almost genial smile.

  “I know you are, son. I’m tough on you because you’ve got talent, promise, a future. And I don’t want to see you throw that all away.”

  “Trust me Coach, all I’m throwing is heat.” I nod again, giving him a smile.

  The rest of the guys are already showered and gone by the time I get back to the locker room, but that’s probably for the best. I don’t want anyone else up in my grill right now. Not when I can barely keep my thoughts together. My usual calm focus is rapidly spinning apart, torn asunder by Charity’s smile flashing across my mind’s eye.

  Fuck. I have to do something about this.

  Thoughts of Charity fill my head and make me swell. Groaning, I hit the showers, suddenly glad no one else is around. I fist my cock, pumping it in time to the memory of Charity’s lips o
n mine. The feel of her curves pressed against me. The quick wit and sharp tongue that make me want to kiss her and shake her in equal measure. She’s the most frustrating girl I’ve ever met. Normally I hate it when girls throw themselves at me, but I finally found one I wish would.

  As I picture her fantastic tits squeezed together around my shaft I come with a sudden rush, groaning as I coat the wall of the shower. The wave of pleasure is little relief. Thoughts of the blonde bombshell still fill my head.

  “Fuck,” I say it out loud, slamming my hand against the wall.

  There’s clearly only one way for me to get this girl out of my system.

  The only trouble is, I think I want to keep her in my system for good.

  I think I’m falling for her.

  Chapter 11

  Charity

  It's the eye of the tiger, it's the thrill of the fight

  Risin' up to the challenge of our rival — Survivor, ‘Eye of the Tiger’

  Sunday night, unlike me, comes far too quickly.

  Levi is a surprisingly good student. He keeps up with me without batting an eye, and despite the grueling schedule of research I set, he never complains.

  But by the end of the week, we’re both at our wits end. Neither of us is happy with what we’ve managed to cobble together. It turns out that when two people are equally passionate about something, they come to something of a disagreement.

  “Levi, our presentation is tomorrow. We absolutely cannot waste any more time.” I fume at the infuriating man from behind the counter of Gone Wired. With only twelve hours to go, Levi is occupying an entire corner booth to himself, both of our books, laptops, and notes spread out across three tables.

  He rakes both his hands through his hair, letting his head sink in between his hands.

  “I know, Charity. I know what day it is, thank you. If you have anything of substance to contribute, that would be great.” He slams himself back into the booth, tossing his pencil onto the piled up papers around him.

  “I’m telling you, that paper by Komisaruk is the way forward. Just make it the focus of the entire presentation. Focus on the facts, the cold, hard science. The neurological components of pleasure.” I slam the next latte down onto the counter, causing a small geyser of foam to erupt from the top.

  “Order for Cecilia!”

  The small, quiet girl who grabs the drink from the counter doesn’t make eye contact, apparently terrified by the argument raging between her barista and the gorgeous customer. I dismiss it without a thought. Yeah, it’s not very professional, but I need scholarships more than I need this job.

  Except you can’t make rent without both.

  I take a deep breath, trying to calm down, but Levi has other ideas.

  “I told you already, if I get up there and talk about the scientific components of an orgasm, Thorburn will dropkick us both out of that class faster than you can say ‘Strike Three’. We can reference it, we should reference it, but we need to focus on the emotional components. Kontula and Miettinen. Bring up relationships and their effects.”

  “Effects? What effects? ‘Women in relationships have better orgasms.’ That’s not something we can use, Levi. It’s barely a statement. It’s just gibberish.”

  “Williams,” the whiny drone of my boss comes from somewhere in the back. “Homework is for break times.”

  Chaz hasn’t done much more than drink espresso and creep on female students in the year and a half I’ve been slinging java beans, but putting up with obnoxious managers is in my job description.

  “Sorry.” I inject as much faux cheerfulness as I can muster into my voice. There isn’t much of it.

  With one hand, Levi slams his book closed, glaring at me from where I’m standing behind the counter. I can feel my heart racing, my breath coming in fast gasps, chest rising and falling with a rapid tempo. Even though he’s downright scary when he’s angry, I don’t back down. Instead, I raise my chin, gritting my teeth, digging my heels in.

  Over the course of the last week, we’ve gone at it a few times, but nothing like this. After our first date— and the kiss that nearly melted my world— it’s been nothing but actual research and work.

  Flirty, fun, but hardly what I’d call a date.

  If we aren’t dating, why does this fight hurt so much?

  “Well, I’ve got one other idea, Charity.” Levi’s voice is heavy, his tone a promise of something that makes me shiver. He stands up, a freefall of papers and spreadsheets scattering across the table and floor as he pushes his way to the counter.

  The two students in line all but dance out of his way, leaving Levi enough room to lean in across the narrow stretch of counter until we’re eye to eye. It’s a stupid, macho, show.

  It works, damn him.

  “What?” I bite the word off, suddenly aware that every pair of eyes in the place is either staring at our tableau or pointedly looking at anything but us as Levi closes the distance between us.

  “Williams!”

  I don’t bother to acknowledge Chaz’s huffing this time. All of my energy is focused on one thing: the blazing fire of Levi’s eyes, burning right through me.

  “You come home with me, and I fuck you.” There’s a gasp from somewhere around us, and the tinkle of someone dropping a spoon.

  “No,” I grit out through clenched teeth. “Because even if you did, I still wouldn’t know shit about an orgasm, Levi!” I huff out, leaning across the counter until our faces are less than an inch apart.

  There’s a low, murmured “Oh shit.” from someone nearby, but I ignore them. I couldn’t look away from Levi and his kaleidoscope eyes right now if my life depended on it.

  Then his lips are on mine, and every thought is blanked out of my head. Time loses all meaning under the assault to my senses. I shudder, and I swear to god I almost have the first orgasm of my life on the spot. I’ve replayed our kiss countless times, but feeling his lips on mine again is a revelation.

  Someone clears their throat behind us, and I try to jerk away, but Levi has me in an iron grip. I realize with a start that I’m on the counter, that the big son-of-a-bitch pulled me halfway across the thing without me realizing.

  “Williams, get your ass back to work on that espresso machine!” My boss hollers from much closer behind me this time.Ignoring him is the easiest decision of my life.

  “Levi? Take me home,” my voice is a hoarse whisper, the wet heat between my thighs throbbing in time with my pulse. I whip the apron off in one motion, tossing it backwards, without looking behind me. “Chaz? I quit.”

  The trip to his place is a blur of hands and lips and the wet, aching need between my thighs. I can’t keep my hands off of him, as if admitting how much I wanted him made a dam burst inside of me.

  Levi almost drops his keys twice trying to get them in the lock because I run one hand up beneath his shirt and the other down. I can feel his aching hardness beneath his boxer briefs. I always thought that the hard evidence of a man’s arousal would scare me, but in the moment, I can’t imagine wanting anything more in my life.

  Then we’re inside. Levi kicks the door shut behind us because his hands are full of me. Our kisses are hungry, desperate and deep.

  “Charity, are you sure? I have to ask.”

  I nod against him, pressing myself against his body as he pulls me against him.

  I’ve taken the leap. There’s no looking back now.

  Chapter 12

  Levi

  Born with a baseball and a bat in his hand Daddy had him swinging from the time he could stand — Whiskey Falls, Load Up the Bases

  I had a plan, but as usual, Charity flipped me on my ass.

  I’ve envisioned this moment so many times over the course of the past week that I couldn’t help but have a plan. It developed naturally as me actually thinking about how things would go in reality and not just lurid fantasy. We would take it slow, me being sweet and reassuring, her being cute and shy.

  Naturally, I would work my
way up to things. Kisses and touches everywhere, my fingers gliding here and there, slowly building her up to the climactic moment. Teaching her all the different ways two people can express love.

  I didn’t count on Charity having so much raw need. Her kisses are dripping with lust, her hands squeezing and groping me with all of the aggression of a horny teen. Every time I try to slow our pace she just doubles down. Her teeth sink into my neck hard enough to make me growl and snatch her head away.

  Panting, she licks her lips, eyes sparkling up at me. Two pools of pure desire.

  Instinctively, I match her pace instead of forcing her to mine. I grip her top and rip, the two pieces of cotton that were formerly her shirt fluttering to the floor, leaving her tits clad only in a black lace bra that hits the floor before the last shred of shirt drifts down.

  My hands squeeze her, thumbs rubbing across her hard nipples.

  “God, you’re perfect,” I growl as I take a pebbled nipple into my mouth, sucking it hard until she hisses at me, nails scratching down my back.

  “Fuck me, Levi. I need it.” Her voice is hoarse, needy, and it makes my cock throb in my jeans. I want nothing more than to hear her say those words with that tone for the rest of the night.

  Night? More like the rest of my life.

  I shove one hand down the front of her pants, not even bothering to take them off. I slide under her soaked panties and trace the lips of her virgin pussy.

  “Holy shit you’re soaking wet,” I whisper as I pull my mouth off one of her spectacular breasts, kissing my way back up her neck to her lips.

  “For you.” She whimpers, grinding against my hand. “I’ve never felt anything like this before. Only for you.” Her voice is so needy that I can’t control myself, can't contain the surge of wild need I have for her.

  “Please, Levi. I’m begging you to fuck me.” She fumbles with my belt for only a second before my jeans hit the floor with a loud thump.

 

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