by Amy Faye
And she wasn't coming.
Chapter Twenty-Five
It was the same as it had always been, really. She should be nicer. She should be more thoughtful. And above all else, she'd been thinking about herself too much.
Cathy was always doing this. Always thinking about herself, putting herself ahead of others. She knew better. She should have known better. But she just kept doing it, as if it were her personal job to figure out every way a person could screw up.
It was obvious she'd hurt his feelings. Jeff thought he was some kinda ice man, and maybe on the mound he was. Maybe he could keep himself cool and calm and keep everything inside. But he was easy to read, when it came down to it. Whether it was that he let his guard down around her or he couldn't put his guard up near as well as he thought he could, she didn't know and didn't care.
But she had to be the strong one this time. He wasn't going to make the right decision, he was going to make the decision that felt good. The one that he wanted. And even though she wanted it, too, that didn't mean that she should be allowed to get it. Not this time.
Cathy let out a long breath and laid her head back against the sofa. Four more hours until practice, and she was off work today.
Mom and Jeff's Dad weren't even married yet, and they were already off… basically honeymooning. Maui or something. So the house, a house three times the size of anything that she'd ever lived in, only a little bigger than anything she'd ever seen, was all hers. Predictably, it was driving her god damned nuts.
All she really wanted was Jeff to call. He said he'd call when he touched down, if he remembered, but he'd definitely call tonight. By the time he settled into the hotel room he'd have some time and he'd be able to sit and chat for a while.
She hadn't let on how much she was looking forward to it. Which was probably her own selfishness again, now that she was thinking about it for real. She could have at least been open about that. Even if she couldn't join him for anything else, she could tell him that she wanted to hear from him.
It had felt like a surrender that she wasn't willing to make. Like, if she said that she was looking forward to it he'd take that as some kind of invitation to push things more. Their relationship was already so far past the limit. So far. They couldn't exactly afford to keep pushing it, even if it were just a little more.
And she knew that he was a pusher. He pushed things, he liked to press past the boundaries. Indeed, he'd already started working on one that she was decidedly not going to let him past, but he was pushing.
He was pushing and he'd respect her desire not to have him push any harder, but he was pushing. What he even found appealing about the idea of butt stuff, Cathy didn't know. And didn't want to know, because that was the first step of letting him do it, and she just wasn't there right now. Wasn't going to be there in the foreseeable future.
She looked at her phone. Maybe she'd set the ringer off, and he'd called, and she hadn't picked up. She clicked the ringtone up a level and it chirped loudly enough that in the silent house it startled her a little.
Nope. She'd have heard it. She checked anyways. No missed calls. No calls at all. The clock read ten fifteen, and it was dark outside. By every measure, he was definitely back at the hotel, and he was definitely thinking about sleep. No way he was going to stay up until two, with practice and shit going on.
Not for no reason, anyways, and if he had a reason, it had better be a good one. A guy who looks like that…
No doubt there were dozens, hundreds of women down there who knew the score, knew that the baseball players were down there for a couple weeks and that they would be interested in something short term.
Cathy could feel her jaw tightening at the thought of Jeff's hands on another woman. Another woman's hand touching him, the same places she'd touched him. Another woman's mouth, kissing the same places she'd kissed. Sucking the things she'd sucked.
Her jaw was hurting bad already, but the thoughts weren't going away. Was that why he hadn't called? Because he was too busy with some slut? When he had a girl waiting for him back at home?
Her phone chirped. Not a call, though. A text. She looked at it, frustrated.
'Hey. Here safe. Tired.'
'Oh. Good.' She doesn't know how passive aggressive she sounds, but she's guessing 'particularly.'
'How was your day?'
'Fine.'
'Is something wrong?'
'No, I said I'm fine.'
Her jaw just keeps getting tighter. He should have called. And he should have called sooner.
'If you wanted to come, you should have just said so.'
'Whatever. Do what you want.'
She threw the phone into the corner of the couch and rolled over and stuck her face into the opposite corner. Where she belonged.
The phone beeped at her from the opposite corner a minute later, and she ignored it for another minute. She wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of looking.
He wouldn't know, not right away, but he'd feel it somehow. Deep down, he'd know that she hadn't looked, and he'd be sad about it. That was the hope anyways, because otherwise it was just doing a whole lot of nothing.
Finally, reluctantly, she sat up and reached for the phone. She clicked it on and read the message.
'You can still come down, you know.'
No, she couldn't. Why didn't he see that? She couldn't afford the risk of getting caught, for one thing. And for another, she'd already made up her mind.
Her lips started to tremble. Why were her lips trembling? She wasn't upset. She knew the score, she knew what was going on, and she had no reason at all to be upset.
If she was upset, which she wasn't, then she had better control of herself than to let tears start welling up in her eyes. When one fell down her cheek and onto her lap, well—that was just one.
'You're already gone'
'You want to come down, don't you?'
'No.'
'How early can you be at the airport tomorrow?'
She wasn't going to the airport. Not tomorrow, and not any other day. Because she wasn't going to Florida.
She wasn't.
Really.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Jeff took another look at the phone, and then decided to ignore it entirely. Cathy would get back to him when she got back to him, and she'd only do it after she'd done everything she usually did. The nervousness, the hesitation, the doubt.
Of course he'd hear none of it. Whether that was an advantage or a disadvantage, he wasn't yet sure. But he was sure that she was doing it, because she was piss poor at hiding her doubts.
If he made the decision for her, on the other hand… well, she wouldn't exactly have much room to complain, would she? Nope. No way.
So instead he opened up a page and started checking times. She'd want something a little before noon, or she'd be getting there at dinner-time. That wasn't convenient for anyone.
So that left the choice of which flight to pick, and that came down as much to price and time as anything. He picked something and made the choices. She'd have to deal with whatever he picked. She didn't like it, she should have said something sooner.
He had his credit card number halfway into the payment box by the time he got a response. It showed at the top, so even though he didn't pay it much attention, he knew what it said as he continued typing.
'I shouldn't.'
That wasn't the same thing as 'I can't' or 'Don't,' and even if it was, he wasn't going to listen to her on this one. She'd been acting like a kicked puppy all night, and he didn't have the energy to deal with her acting like this for the next two months.
'Your flight leaves at 10. Be at the airport by 8. Go get packed.'
He clicks send, forwards the flight information to her email, and plugs his phone into the wall. She'll be busy for the next hour or so, and the last thing that Jeff wants to worry about is waiting for her to respond. Waiting for her to respond, really, when she shouldn't be responding in the first place.<
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She should be packing. Or going to sleep, once she's done packing. And he should be doing the same.
He doesn't want to imagine what it's going to be like once she gets to Florida. It won't be like whatever he's imagining. Spending all their time together, going to Disney—not going to happen.
They're just going to see each other for an hour or two at the end of the day, maybe an hour or two at the beginning. It'll be just like at home.
They'll both have busy schedules, and that's fine. But at the very least, they'll have some time together, which is more than he can say for her when she was still in Detroit.
It was smart to have done this now. Because if they'd waited another day or two, training would really be in full swing, and there would be no way he could meet her at the airport.
Luckily for her, Jeff hadn't let her hem and haw for another week while she realized that staying only hurt her, didn't hurt anyone else. Setting down in a new place, where you've never been before, is a scary prospect.
Doing it on someone else's dime, when every penny is accounted for and you can't afford a taxi or a rental car, but you have to get something—
Jeff could only imagine it. No, someone would have to come get her. And now, because it was early and he could spare the time, he was the one who could do it.
"How was your flight?"
She looked like she hadn't slept the night before. Her eyes were half-lidded, and Cathy was blinking a lot. More than usual.
"What?"
"Don't worry about it. Point your bag out, and we'll get you into the car, and then you can nap all the way to the hotel."
"I don't need a nap."
"You do. Why not sleep on the plane? Three hours is a long time, you could have gotten some sleep."
"No," she said. Just 'no,' as if that was all the response she needed.
"You're right. How foolish of me."
They watched the turnstile go around and around, until finally she raised a hand and said 'that one.'
Jeff grabbed it. It wasn't heavy, but it wasn't light, either. Probably the right amount of clothing. He shifted it to his strong arm and took her carry-on over the other shoulder and started walking toward the car.
She didn't need a nap, or so she said. There was no way she was going to sleep in the car, because that would be what someone who needed a nap would do, and again, she didn't need one. Obviously. Clearly.
She closed her eyes for just a moment when they got into the car, and Jeff checked on her occasionally as they drove down the interstate to make sure that moment was still going.
She didn't snore. She never had. She did, however, make a dainty whistling noise, every so often, and it told him that whatever she was doing, it wasn't reading the inside of her eyelids.
He couldn't help smiling. She would deny having slept later, but she'd feel better. In the end, that was all that really mattered.
The car pulled up into a spot at the hotel. It wasn't a luxury place, per se, but it wasn't bad, either. A nice, middle-of-the-road option. He looked up at it doubtfully. Well, whatever. No time to worry about it now.
She'd need to be awake for the next part. She'd hate to miss it.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
What was life even going to be like here? In Detroit, she knew what to expect. Not because there was something special about Detroit, something that made it uniquely predictable. She could have said the same thing about any city.
But in Detroit, she had a routine. She had a life. Here, what was she even supposed to do with her time? What was her day supposed to look like? She didn't have work to think about. Not any more. Nor, she supposed, would she again. Did that matter? Did she mind? She wasn't sure and as she thought about it, she realized that she definitely didn't want to think about it any more than she had to.
Jeff unloaded her stuff for her. She smiled at him and followed along behind, as if walking behind him would show that she supported him in spirit, even if he was the one carrying all the heavy stuff.
He set it down at the front desk and gave her name, gesturing her forward. The woman behind the counter didn't seem to worry about it, so Cathy wouldn't either.
Jeff signed papers as the woman handed over a folded-up bundle of papers, wrapped around two plastic keys shaped like credit cards. A minute later they were stepping into the glass elevator.
She thought about kissing him. Well, that was one of the thoughts that she had. There were others, and they were not all quite so tame as just kissing. She held herself back, though. This was too public, and as much as there was nobody who would know who she was here, there would be too many prying eyes.
Once the door was closed, though, all bets were off. Jeff never saw her coming. Her weight hit him as he turned and sent both of them sprawling onto the bed, her lips finding his. For an instant he was surprised, and then his body relaxed and his arms wrapped around hers, too tight to imagine, and for the first time in days, she was home again.
His body felt good against hers. Strong, well-formed. He kissed her back and squeezed tighter for an instant before letting her loose. She felt him reaching for her ass, felt him getting his hands comfortable again with the flesh that had been his for as long as they'd known each other.
She liked it, liked feeling as if he was in control of her again. There was something strange about it. The feeling of control she got from being the one to give him pleasure was like a drug, one that dug into her head and made her feel crazy, but it was nothing next to the high that she got from having him tell her what he wanted, from not needing to think.
All she was responsible for was doing and feeling and moving. No need to think, no need to worry.
"Suck my cock," he said, his voice low and harsh and full of need. That was what she did to him, that was the sound of his arousal taking over.
She slipped off the couch and pulled at the waistline of his jeans until it slipped down over his hips easily and the jeans were discarded and forgotten. The thin fabric between his hardness and the air came away easily, and then his underwear was discarded alongside the pants.
She didn't leave him waiting. She enjoyed it too much. The sound of his breath, quickening and catching in his throat. He filled her mouth. She sucked hard and enjoyed the way that his hands tightened in her hair.
By giving power up, she was really taking something back for herself. Taking a power that she didn't know if she deserved, but she wouldn't refuse it now that she had it. She slid her mouth up and down his cock, his hips moving to try to get the perfect angle.
She let him. There was pleasure in denial, there was power. She could reduce him to a mess in an instant. A pile of need that couldn't control itself. She could watch the struggle in his face to keep himself under wraps as part of his brain told him to take what he wanted and not to be refused, while the larger part said that he couldn't possibly do that.
But that was so much less fun than taking his cock deep, feeling him hold her down. Knowing that he was pleased with her, almost in awe. That was the power that he allowed her to have over him, even as he no doubt thought that he was in control.
She pulled away to take a deep breath, her skin flushed with arousal and enjoyment.
"Do you like that?"
"God, I missed you," he panted.
"I missed you too. Do you want to cum in my mouth, or—"
She didn't like the taste of it, though it certainly was uniquely his taste. On some primal level, that knowledge was unavoidable and arousing. Not quite arousing enough, though, to overcome the bitterness. Being told that he wanted it, that he needed it—that was enough, though.
"Not today, no." His teeth ground together. It was sexy when he did that, and a shiver shot down her spine at the look he was giving her. "No, today I have something else in mind. Get up and lay down on the bed."
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Jeff looked down at the woman below him, watched her little movements to get her hips into position, before he'd even start
ed to line himself up with her. He pressed a hand down on her waist and used the other to line his hardness up with her entrance. Then he waited.
A long moment without movement, without taking what he wanted, and then he was pressing inside her, holding her still below him even has his body threatened to betray him. Even as his need threatened to overtake his senses, he was slow and controlled.
Cathy tried to move to get herself into a better position, to force him in deeper. Something deep down inside her, some evolutionary need to have him inside her, as deep as possible, when he finished.
He smiled, his teeth clenching tightly together, and moved his hand up higher, to her throat.
"What do you think you're doing?"
She gurgled a response, somewhere between a sound of pleasure and an inability to speak, her eyes already starting to roll back in her head a little. Her hips moved still, in spite of her.
"Did I say you could move your hips?"
She shook her head, but kept moving them anyways, meeting his every thrust with as much force as she could muster.
"If I didn't give you permission, then why are you doing it?"
He let off her throat, let her speak. The only response he got was the gurgling sound breaking into a loud moan. With the sound of her need filling the room, he pulled his hand away from her throat further and brought it around in a quick, stinging slap.
Cathy blinked hard, the slap waking her up and bringing her need sharply into focus, her entire body tuned toward arousal and feeling every inch of their movement together.
"Did you like that?"
She bit her lip and nodded, unable to find the words. Finally she managed to speak, only to say, "Oh, fuck."
He put his weight back on her throat, and it started her writhing again, her hands not sure whether to pull his weight off, to get the air that her body needed, or to let him continue, knowing that he wouldn't let her come to harm.
He thrust his cock home once again, a loud slap ringing out through the room as his flesh smacked up against hers. He had needed this for days, and now he was going to take his fill.