A Brand New Ballgame
Declan Rhodes
Copyright © 2018 by Declan Rhodes.
All rights reserved.
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Contents
Prologue
1. Chase
2. Aaron
3. Chase
4. Aaron
5. Chase
6. Aaron
7. Chase
8. Aaron
9. Chase
10. Aaron
11. Chase
12. Aaron
13. Chase
14. Aaron
15. Chase
16. Aaron
17. Chase
18. Aaron
19. Chase
20. Aaron
21. Chase
22. Aaron
23. Chase
24. Aaron
25. Chase
26. Aaron
27. Chase
28. Aaron
29. Chase
30. Aaron
Epilogue - Chase
Share Your Thoughts
Also by Declan Rhodes
About the Author
Prologue
“Never have sex with the boss!” Isn’t that a rule? I heard my sister Celia say that once just before she slammed her purse on the kitchen table. The impact rattled the dishes in the cupboard. I asked her why the concept bothered her so much, and she frowned, blushed, and said, “Because I had sex with my boss. I know what can happen next.”
Romantic relationships between coaches and players weren’t much of an issue in professional baseball in the past. At least, as far as I know, they weren’t, but I’ll place big bets that I’m not the first player to celebrate a special day in bed with his coach.
Looking back, I don’t know who’s to blame. Aaron Beck, the hotshot 28-year-old manager of the A-level Rock City Ramblers, called me into his office to celebrate my call-up to the big time. I’d had an excellent season in the minors, and it was September. The big league front office assumed I could draw a few extra fans to the late season games and take the locals’ minds off the Charlotte Yellowjackets’ battle for last place in the standings. After contacting me with the news, they sent me a plane ticket for the next morning.
Aaron started it off with compliments about my baseball skills, and we ended up kissing hard and pressing our bodies together against the back of his office door. Breaking rules is always more fun when you do it with someone as sexy as Aaron.
Two hours later, reaching behind me, I locked the door of a motel room on the outskirts of town. Aaron started to pull his jersey up over his head, and I insisted, “No, don’t take it off yet!” I slowly traced my fingertips across his chest. “Don’t you love how a body feels in the jersey? Damn, I can stand in front of the mirror in my uniform touching my chest and get so fucking horny.”
Aaron laughed. “Is it like a fetish thing for you, Chase?”
“Well, isn’t it for you, too? I mean, the first time I wore real baseball pants, um…” I swallowed my words when Aaron gripped my package. I bit my lip wondering if I’d shared too much about my fetish too soon.
He whispered, “Damn, you’re thick, aren’t you?”
I laughed with a hint of nervousness underneath, “Yeah, really thick, almost beer-can style.”
While I traced the Ramblers team logo across his chest with my fingertips, Aaron slipped his other hand underneath my jersey. I preferred the old-fashioned button-up style, but pullovers were still a baseball jersey, and that made them hot by definition.
Aaron growled, “You can leave mine on if you want, but you’re losing yours.”
I lifted my arms as Aaron pushed the uniform up over my head. I heard his breath stop for a moment. I knew he’d seen me naked before in the locker room, but the body looks entirely different when you’re in a room with a bed nearby. As the jersey fluttered to the floor, Aaron wrapped an arm around me while he pushed his face into my right pec. I growled, “Oh fuck, those nips are seriously sensitive.” I rose onto my toes as his teeth grazed the tip.
I mumbled, “Am I too thick for you?”
Aaron gave my nip a slurpy kiss and said, “I don’t think so, but I guess we’ll find out.” The smirk on his face sent a lightning bolt of electricity to my cock. I hoped he came equipped with condom and lube because I wanted my coach’s ass. I would have brought them, but I thought I was only receiving a verbal congratulations. A kiss was a possibility, but when he summoned me to his office, I didn’t think it would go further.
I wanted Aaron from the moment we met, and my ego’s big enough that I thought eventually someway, somehow I would have him. When we first met, he shook my hand in the Ramblers team office and then turned around to step behind his desk. I couldn’t help noticing how his snug jeans perfectly cradled his ass. Later, my heart nearly stopped when I saw his cheeks in tight baseball pants for the first time.
Aaron whispered, “You know I have principles. I wouldn’t do this if it weren’t…”
I held two fingers to his lips cutting off the words. “If you didn’t want to see what it was like to be fucked by a future Hall of Famer?”
My cock jumped again when he threw his head back and laughed hard. There’s something about a great laugh that’s so fucking sexy. I’m not talking about forced laughs like those when you hear a terrible joke and feel obligated to chuckle and moan. I mean those natural ones that come from the gut. I joined in the laughter when Aaron playfully bit my nipple making me yelp and causing us to tumble into the middle of the bed together.
He landed on top of me. I pushed his jersey clear up to his neck. It was time to let go of the uniform fascination and see more of Aaron’s body. He isn’t as ripped as I am, but he has a dark, black little trail down the center of his abs and perfect chest definition. Those nicely muscled pecs have the cutest little nips. If God were building the ideal guy for me to take to bed, he would look a hell of a lot like Aaron Beck.
I said, “The first time we met, I was pretty damn sure this would eventually happen. It might have been wishful thinking, but you were the one who bought those jeans that show off that hot ass.”
“Well, when I scored this managing job so young, I swore to myself I wouldn’t let my dick ruin it for me. But you’ve got as much to lose as me if word got out and caused a scandal. This can be our secret.”
I cut the words off with a kiss. Aaron has soft lips, and they are perfectly thick. They aren’t fat lips, but they also aren’t those thin, pursed ones I see on too many straight guys. Aaron’s lips are perfect for kissing. I gave the lower one my best sensuous nibble.
I cleared my throat and asked, “Do you have...”
“Condoms, check. Lube, check. Even though I said I don’t let my dick take control, I’m always prepared.”
I pulled back from the kiss and grinned. “The manager is ready for all situations. I love it.”
“Well, just because I don’t make a habit of fucking players doesn’t mean I’m celibate.”
I shook my head. “Correction. Getting fucked by a player.”
Aaron said, “I couldn’t believe you dared to whisper in my ear with the players and the press around. You know it was possible for someone to hear.”
“I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t leave without at least making a bid for that ass.” Yeah, I’m guilty of starting it. I guess my insinuation paved the way for my private invitation to the office. I added, “And they didn’t hear. You dropped the perfect excuse to let us slip off into the night.”
Aaron laughed again, and I ground my hips into his pelvis. He was as hard as me. He said, “I do have something for you. I wasn’t lying when I said I like to give a gift to my players who get called up to the big time.”
“And just how many players have you ushered off to the majors in your first year managing at the A-level three times removed from the majors?”
He whispered, “Shh, it’s time to stop talking business. It’s time for you to lose those pants. I’ll lose mine, too. We’re gonna see how well you fit.”
“Don’t go too fast. If this will be the only time, I want to make sure I enjoy it. You’re not just a notch in the bedpost. You’re my parting gift.”
Aaron Chandler wasn’t an ordinary minor league manager for the Ramblers. He was only 28. It was nearly unheard of to put someone that young into a management position, even in the lower levels of the minors. The sports press had a field day when the front office turned Aaron’s mediocre minor league playing career into a managing position before he turned 30. Aaron told the media vultures that he was aiming to manage in the majors by 40.
I’m Chase O’Rourke, one of those hot rising phenoms in baseball. I’m still not entirely sure why I ended up here. Of course, I’m a good player. In fact, I’m an excellent player, but I’ve never had to work hard at it. God gave me a gift, but I don’t know why. Building the ripped body I need was harder work than playing the game. I guess some might say I’m a natural.
Aaron lay naked, flat on his back, looking sexy as hell. He reached to the right and fumbled for the condom and lube packets in his jeans pocket. “Are you ready for this?”
I shook my head. “Not yet.” I slid one of my hands behind his back and gave a gentle push. Following my lead, Aaron rolled over onto his belly so that I was staring at those perfectly round cheeks. I whispered, “Spread,” and his legs dutifully slid to the sides of the bed. I spit on my fingers and spread those cheeks even wider. He was almost impossibly beautiful. My fingers found Aaron’s tight, puckered hole. I was thick, and it was going to hurt going in, so I wanted to try and ease things up a bit.
Aaron moaned into his pillow as my two fingers slowly circled his hole. When I slipped one finger just inside up to the first knuckle, the moan grew more guttural and feral in tone. I heard the muffled words, “I want you.”
The second finger slipped inside while I gave the right cheek a playful swat with my opposite hand. A baseball guy’s ass is a thing of wonder. Core muscles are everything in the game, and it shows in those perfect glutes. Aaron didn’t turn into a gym slacker when he decided to manage. He knew how to empathize with his players. He even ran sprints with us, and they helped keep that sweet ass in perfect shape.
Grinning, I announced, “And he slides safely into third base!”
“What the fuck?” growled Aaron. “We’re off the field.”
Laughing, I said, “I always wanted to be an announcer. I asked my dad how you could get to do that when I was only six years old. When I was ten, for my birthday my parents arranged for me to meet a radio sports announcer in person, and he showed me around the studio.”
“Keep your mind on the game, and this game isn’t baseball.”
I asked, “Do you want it from behind, or do you wanna see my eyes?”
He raised his head just inches off the pillow and muttered, “I want to see your face. It drives me crazy. Staring into a guy’s eyes when he pushes past…oh, fuck!” My two fingers plunged deeper and cut off his comment.
I rolled Aaron onto his back and pushed his legs up over my shoulders. He was going to be the perfect fuck. I could feel a tiny lump growing in the back of my throat. Damn the majors!
Aaron tore the condom package open with his teeth and reached out for my cock. I asked, “Do you want to put it on?”
“Who wouldn’t want to touch your cock?”
I grinned and watched his fingers slowly sheath my thick dick. He followed it up by handing me a packet of lube and said, “You can do this part.”
By the time my cock head was lined up perfectly with his hole, we were both slicked up and more than ready. I ordered, “Keep those eyes open.”
Aaron cringed, but he didn’t close his eyes as I pushed hard. He pushed back, and when I slipped past his ring, it felt like his ass was a velvet-gloved fist pulling me inside.
“Damn, slow, please, fuck,” pleaded Aaron.
I took it slow. I wanted a gradual ride to the edge, and I wanted to stare down over the cliff with Aaron for a long time before we took the leap. As soon as I felt my balls starting to churn, I wrapped my slick fingers around his cock and began to pump.
He blurted out a question, “Will you let me cum?” Then he added, “I’ll only cum if you want me to cum.”
“You’re putting me in charge?” The man in control in the baseball dugout wanted to give it all up in bed. My mind raced thinking about the potential. Damn the majors!
“Please. Oh fuck, you’re so damn hot.”
His cock pulsed in my hand and his abs began to clench. I held off from the stroking while I continued to slide forward and back in Aaron’s ass. His hard cock rested lightly cradled by my fingers.
“Oh, don’t stop,” pleaded Aaron.
I loved being bossy and controlling in bed, but I was a perfect angel for the manager and coaches on the field. I did exactly what they told me without complaint. In bed, it was a different story.
I started to stroke again, and Aaron’s abs clenched once more. He was close, and I was close. It was time to ride the crest together for a while. When Aaron yelped, “Oh God, I’ve gotta cum,” after I stopped stroking, I stared into his eyes with an evil grin.
“Do you want me to stop? I can stop right now.” I froze the rocking of my hips to emphasize the point.
“No, no, please. Please!”
I growled, “You’re so damn sexy,” and I started to rock my hips fast pounding hard, listening to the slap of my balls against Aaron’s ass. My fist began to pump again, too. I was ready for us to leap off the edge together.
Aaron was a shooter. He let go of a massive load blasting it over both of our chests. I shuddered from head to toe when I came. I gasped for breath, shut my eyes and plunged my cock deep inside to the hilt. Best damn fuck ever!
And, when I thought it was all over, I fell onto the surface of the bed at Aaron’s side. He turned his head toward me and the expression of bliss filling his face was dazzling. My breath caught in my throat just before we shared another kiss.
After locking our lips together in a gesture suffused with fading passion, I laid my head on Aaron’s sweaty chest and listened to his heart pound. In a smartass voice, he asked, “Was the parting gift as outstanding as you hoped?”
I slapped his chest. “Don’t be an ass about it, but yeah, it was worth waiting for, and you?”
“I’ll be sad to see you go, but make sure you kick ass in the big leagues and who knows what could happen someday.”
While the sound of his heart pounding gradually slowed in my ears, I repeated the word, “Someday.”
1
Chase
As I slipped into the passenger seat in Eric’s shiny new Lexus, I said, “So this is what that half a million dollar raise buys?”
Eric laughed. “I do like cars. I’m still renting an apartment in Charlotte and trying to decide if I want to buy a house or condo and where.”
Eric Hinsdale was called up to the minors from triple-A a year ahead of me. He played cent
er field, and I got sent to right field in Charlotte even though I played center field for the Ramblers. Eric was finishing up his first full year in the majors with Charlotte when I joined the team the previous September. He has the best smile I’ve ever seen, but he’s straight as an arrow. That helps make him excellent friend material. I don’t get distracted by wondering what else could happen between us.
“Thanks for inviting me for the drive. We’ll have plenty of time on planes soon enough.” Eric got approval from the front office to drive from Florida to Charlotte, North Carolina on our day off between spring training and opening day. Most of the team flew instead, but Eric wanted his car to be available without having to trust someone he hired to drive his luxury vehicle.
Eric said, “It’s good to have company. Are you the kid that wants to stick to the road and get there as soon as possible, or would you be up for a stop at the beach along the way?”
“Are you kidding? I love the beach. I grew up in Missouri thousands of miles from the coasts. Let’s stop. It’s not supposed to rain, is it?”
Eric said, “The forecast is good all week long. I’ll detour out to the islands by Savannah. Maybe we can have a fish sandwich for lunch. I grew up in Atlanta, and my family spent a lot of summer weekends in Savannah.”
Talking to Eric was easy. Many of the other players were a little standoffish with me. I think they avoided moving too close to a rookie when it was far from certain that he was in the big leagues to stay. My performance in the last month of the previous season introduced even more doubt. I arrived from the Ramblers in Chattanooga highly touted by the press, and then I batted a meager .230 for September. I knew it was only a slump, and my natural talent would kick in again soon. The fans and my fellow players weren’t as confident.
A Brand New Ballgame Page 1