It’s no secret that we all have slump busters or cleat chasers in the towns we visit. I’ve hooked up with random women in different cities, but Sarah is my only consistent one. My parents know about our arrangement, and while they may not approve, they at least know her and consider her a part of our family.
As soon as Diamond is done congratulating us on the win, I’m taking off my uniform and throwing it into the laundry hamper. My cleats, glove and everything else I need stays in my assigned locker until I need it again tomorrow. I put my game day attire on: Dress shirt and slacks and tell the guys I’ll see them later. Kidd shows me how much fun I’m about to have when he puts his fist to his mouth and juts his tongue into his cheek.
“Be jealous,” I say as I grab my dick and give it a good shake.
“Be sure to wrap your junk so your pecker juices don’t sneak out.”
I flip him off as I walk out of the clubhouse, laughing. At the end of the corridor the parade of women starts. Most of them filter around, but a few are brazen enough to flat out ask you to come hang with them. At first, it’s an ego booster when they choose you... until you remember they just want to say they fucked a major league baseball player and take a selfie as proof. I won’t have to worry about that tonight. Sarah doesn’t care about what I do for a profession, she wants my dick and I’m going to give it to her.
The car I had in high school and college waits for me in the parking garage, along with my overnight bag. The smell of home surrounds me as I navigate my way to Sarah’s apartment. It’s close to the hospital so she can walk to work and not far from Safeco Field. There were many times that Sarah and I opted for the cramped quarters of the car even when we had a bed at our disposal. It wasn’t just the thrill of possibly getting caught, but also how close we had to be, and how creative we had to get in order to make things work.
I pull onto Sarah’s street and maneuver my Toyota Camry into a tight parking spot. Sarah’s building used to be an office building until a big time developer came along and converted the space into apartments for students. Mostly medical students live here, but you’ll find a few engineers and teachers as well.
I’m all but jogging to the main door, eager to get upstairs. As soon as my foot hits the first step, the buzzing of the door sounds and there’s the telltale sound of it being unlocked, signaling I can go in. Despite everything that’s happened between Sarah and me, we still have this weird sixth sense shit going on. I guess that’s what makes our situation work so well. Neither of us have any expectations, but we both know when we need that certain itch to be scratched. Sex, in general, is great but when you’re with someone who knows how to make you let go of everything, it’s ten times better.
Her door is open when I round the corner on her floor. Some could take this as a sign that she doesn’t care and is going through the motions, while others could take it as a sign that she’s eager and ready to get shit done. It’s neither for me. Sarah is very matter-of-fact about everything and simply making things easier for me. As soon as she sees me, her eyes widen. I’m dirty, probably stink and look like shit.
“Need a shower?” she asks with one eyebrow raised. I give her a smirk and wink in return before heading toward her bedroom, where her only bathroom is, and drop my bag on her bed. Her apartment is small but cozy. After I graduated, I stayed here for about a week until we all but killed each other - it was a little too close for comfort back then. Now, I welcome it. I unbutton my shirt, tossing it on her bed as I pass by her and undo my pants, letting them fall to my ankles before kicking them off, along with my shoes, on my way into the bathroom. She had to have known I was going to head right here as towels sit on the counter waiting for me.
Starting the shower, I finish undressing before stepping in and letting the hot water pound down on my muscles. I rotate my shoulders and flex under the spray, hoping to get them to loosen up. I jump slightly at the feel of her hands on my sides, but quickly relax into her touch. She slowly runs her hands down my hips until she’s stroking my dick. My head falls back while my hand steadies myself against the wall. I reach back with my other hand and grab her ass, pulling her to me as she nips at my back.
It’s been far too long since I’ve had the attention of a woman like this and I find myself turning, moving her hand away. She looks confused, but I displace any errant thoughts she has when I pull her to me, kissing her hard and fast. We’re all teeth until we find our familiar rhythm, our tongues gliding against each other and our hands roaming paths that had been forged long ago from years of being together.
Sarah breaks our kiss, letting her lips travel from my neck, over my chest and stopping at my erect nipple. She bites hard, pulling on it until I’m groaning. My cock jumps, pushing against her, ready to be inside of her. Sarah looks at me with a devilish smile before dropping to her knees.
“Oh fuck,” I say, grabbing a hold of the shower door to steady myself. She looks up with her brown come-hither eyes, watching me as she takes me in her mouth. I’m taken deep into her warm mouth as I slowly start to rock and her fingers dig into my ass.
“God damn, your…” I trail off as she pulls back and slowly takes me in again, sucking and using her hand to create much need friction. She switches her method and starts licking me from base to tip and back down while her hand works to get me off. I want her mouth on me though. I want to feel the suction against my shaft. Tangling my fingers in her hair, I guide her mouth back to my dick and she greedily accepts what I’m offering. I pump my hips, fucking her pretty mouth as my orgasm builds.
“Fucking hell, Daisy, your mouth.”
I freeze, as does Sarah. The water turns to ice as I stand there in silence and there’s a pounding in my head. She avoids eye contact as she stands and steps out of the shower, leaving me with my demon. The one thing we’ve always agreed on is that if we were to start seeing someone, we’d tell each other so we wouldn’t have awkward situations like the one that just occurred.
I shut the water off and step out. The apartment is silent, not even the sound of the television is heard. Wrapping myself in a towel, I walk into her bedroom and find her standing at the window with her bathrobe on.
“I can explain.” It’s my lame attempt at a half-assed apology. I should be over there, behind her, telling her how sorry I am for using another woman’s name while she was doing exactly what I wanted her to do.
“Who is she?” Sarah doesn’t turn around, leaving me unable to gauge exactly how she’s feeling. I run my hand through my hair and sigh. Dropping the towel, I reach into my bag and pull out my sweats and a t-shirt, forgoing underwear. Right now, I just want to be in clothes so when she kicks my ass out I’m not stark naked in the middle of downtown Seattle.
“She’s hard to explain,” I say as I try to think about how to describe Daisy to her. “We met last month, but I guess you can say I’ve been looking at her since last year. She’s a season ticket holder and we sort of stare at each other during the games.”
“That doesn’t sound creepy at all,” Sarah turns and when I look at her, her eyebrows are scrunched.
“It’s totally fucking creepy, but you didn’t need to point it out.” I sit down and rest my elbows on my knees, my wet hair dripping onto my white t-shirt. Sarah walks over, taking a seat beside me.
“There are support groups for people like you,” she says, but I can’t figure out if she’s making fun of me or being serious. I have a feeling the doctor part of her thinks I need mental help. Maybe I do.
“Do you have a number for me to call?”
She shakes her head and looks down. I’ve ruined everything and don’t know how to fix it. Taking her hand in mine, I turn my body to face her and pull her chin up so I can look her in the eyes.
“Sarah, I’m sorry for what just happened. I can’t explain it and will understand if you never want to speak to me again. Calling you by another woman’s name is beyond unacceptable and I never meant to disrespect you like this.”
Her face so
ftens, and she leans into me. “I know why you did it.”
I laugh. “You’re in sports medicine, not psychotherapy,” I remind her.
“You’re in love.”
Her words cause the room to spin and my heart to stop. I’ve only loved one woman, aside from my mother, sister and grandmothers... and that woman was Sarah. Even in high school I knew I was in love with Sarah, and still, to this day I would do anything for her.
“Am not,” I childishly respond.
“Ethan, right now I want to punch you in the gut and maybe kick you in the junk, but I know how much you value your manhood so I won’t do that. But come on, we’ve been together for years and even after we broke up and you were sleeping with other people, you never once called me by another woman’s name. I’m not exactly happy about it, but I’m willing to concede my reign over your dick and let another woman have at it, as long as you admit to yourself that you’re in love.”
The words “am not” repeat in my head, but I hold them back for fear she might make good on her word and pummel me. I’d deserve it if she chose to, so I’m going to sit here and play dumb.
“Doesn’t matter because I’m stupid and girls are too hard to read.”
“What’d you do?” Sarah asks as she stands to face me with her arms crossed. I think her foot is jutted out, but I’m too afraid to break eye contact to look right now.
“Freaked out because she was reading a blog that I asked her not to,” I mumble my response and lean back, making the gap between us even larger. Sarah is of average height so I’m calculating that the distance between her arm span and me are in my favor.
She rolls her eyes and places her hands on her hips. “You’re right, you are stupid.”
I throw my hands up and sigh.
“So what if she wants to read a blog? I read gossip columns all the time. It’s an easy way to relax and remind yourself that your favorite actor or musician is still human and can’t actually walk on water or get away with murder.”
“I find them dumb.”
Sarah scoffs. “It’s because people write about you. Grow a set, Ethan. Who gives a shit? You’re Boston’s most eligible bachelor so regardless of what you do they’re going to write about you. Whether you help an old lady across the street or kick your neighbor’s cat – you’re news! Suck it up, buttercup. This is what you wanted.”
“Ugh,” I say, throwing my hands up in the air again before flopping back onto her bed. She laughs from somewhere behind me while I bury my face into her comforter. We should be having sex right now. Sarah’s a fine piece of ass and her beautiful tits should be bouncing in my face while she rides me, but no, we’re having girl talk and I’m about to cash in my fucking man card.
“Sarah,” I whine, feeling the bed dip next to me. I turn my head and see nothing but a creamy thigh mocking me for being such a pussy. “What am I going to do?”
“Well for starters, you’re not getting laid unless you hit the corner bar and find someone who doesn’t care what you call her, and second, start thinking of a grand gesture because I have a feeling this girl is worth it.”
She’s right, she is, but how does she know that? How do women have all the answers?
“How?”
“I’ve never seen you like this, Ethan. She must be something else if she has you tied into knots.” Sarah runs her fingers through my hair, calming me. “Come on, let’s get some sleep.”
I crawl into my spot and push the covers down with my feet. “Where are you going?” I ask as she gets up.
“Bob and I have a date.”
“Who the fuck is Bob?” I ask, seeing red. How the fuck could she have a date knowing I was coming over?
“Bob is my dildo. He’s my go to cock, always hard, always ready. He never lets me down. You didn’t get me off so someone... or something... has to.” With that she closes her bathroom door, leaving me in her bedroom to listen to her fucking moaning and telling him yes, yes, yes repeatedly while my sorry excuse for a dick laughs at me.
In true Sarah fashion, she threw some hard facts at me the other night, reminding me of just how stupid I can be. Even though I spent the night with her, in her bed, we never touched and honestly it broke my heart. It hit me like a ton of bricks that we were finally over, that our relationship had met its end. I hate that my last encounter with her was a quick blowjob in the shower where I referred to her by another woman’s name. She deserved better from me.
Sarah told me that I needed to come clean with Daisy when I see her and not hide what went down in Seattle. It’s really not a conversation that I want to have with Daisy, if she were ever to speak to me again, because in my mind that just solidifies the rumors from the blog.
First thing’s first, I have to get Daisy to speak to me, and right now that’s not happening. As much as it pained me to leave Seattle a day early, I chose to fly back with the team after our last game. I wanted to use the off day to see Daisy and apologize.
The downside of returning with the team means I’m required to attend class, even though this is my last week. The professor is going on and on about the importance of clean enunciation when publicly speaking. He’s right, far too many athletes don’t enunciate when they speak, often times leaving people scratching their heads at what they’re saying. I shouldn’t complain about it though since they’re allowed to be on television and I’m not. Clearly it’s working for them.
Maybe that’s the key to life – never speak clearly. It’ll leave people wondering what you’re saying and often agreeing with you because they don’t want to be rude and ask you to repeat yourself. It’s something I may need to try when I meet with Stone and we go over what I learned. Somehow I don’t think he’ll be impressed.
As soon as class is dismissed, I’m running across campus to the library. That is where I found her last time, and I’m hoping she’s a creature of habit. What I’m going to say, I have no idea, but am hoping that the words will flow once I see her. Except I don’t because she’s not in the cubicle I was hoping to find her in. It’s now being occupied by the Jolly Green Giant who I don’t want to tap on the shoulder to ask if he’s seen Daisy.
Feeling defeated, I start the long trek back to my car, pulling out my phone to text her. It’s one of two or three-dozen texts I’ve sent since I fucked up with Sarah and none of them have been answered. A normal person would start to think that maybe the object of your affections has fallen ill or is in the hospital, but since I stalked the shit out of her and have seen her leave her apartment, I know that’s not the case. I curse the parking in Boston because when I saw her I was looking for a place to park and couldn’t just jump out of my car and chase her down.
I was hoping we could grab some lunch today...
It’s a desperate attempt to get her attention and I’ve failed to tell her exactly how sorry I am because Sarah beat it into me that those words need to be said to her in person and not through text message. I hate it when Sarah’s right, which is more often than not. I wait to see if she’s going to respond before pocketing my phone and getting into my car. I could go home and practice my public speaking in front of a mirror or go to the stadium.
The stadium always wins out for me. It’s my home away from home. My serenity.
After splitting with the Mariners two games to two, we’re hosting the Texas Rangers for three games before the Los Angeles Angels come to town, bringing their power hitter, Albert Pujols, with them. That man scares me when he’s up to bat and can make my hand twitch like there’s no tomorrow. I’ve caught a few of his line drives and have had to hide the fact that my palm was burning from snagging the ball wrong. I could tell he knew, though, as he stared me down on his walk back to the dugout.
As soon as I step into the clubhouse, I’m being called to Stone’s office. The walk can be daunting, but I have a lot of respect for him and the fact that we’re somewhat close in age helps. His secretary isn’t at her desk when I arrive, so I walk in, knocking on his doorjamb.
&nb
sp; “Ethan, come on in. Take a seat,” he says as he looks up from his paperwork.
I do as I’m told, burying my hand under my leg to keep it still.
“Hand bothering you today?” I both hate and like that he notices. I don’t want him to think it’ll ever affect my job on the field, but it worries me that he does.
“Sometimes you make me nervous, Sir.” I finish off by calling him sir, hoping to ease the building tension.
“Just worried about you is all,” he says, folding his hands on his desk. “How’s the media stuff been working out?”
“It’s okay,” I say, honestly. “I’ve learned the dos and don’ts of what to post on social media, how words can be misconstrued, and to always enunciate my words when giving an interview.”
“That’s good. I’ve spoken to your professor, and he’s assured me that he’s taught you everything from the course, so tonight after the game you can speak to the media if they ask for you.”
I can’t hide the grin that I know is plastered all over my face. I stand and shake his hand, elated that he has enough faith in me to not screw up. I hope that I don’t make a fool out of myself when given the opportunity and that I do something tonight that will be newsworthy.
“I heard about your secret project,” Stone says, causing me to sit back down.
I run my free hand through my hair, trying to decipher if I’m in trouble or not.
“It’s a nice thing to do – to help out like that.”
I nod and say thank you, hoping that what I’ve done doesn’t cause upset or fall on deaf ears. Frankly, I’m out of options. Stone dismisses me, but not before telling me that his wife’s parents are in attendance tonight. Why he felt the need to say this is beyond me, but he loves taking every jab he can to remind me of who he’s married to and where they sit.
Third Base (The Boys of Summer #1) Page 14