Bet On It

by Elizabeth Perry

  “I enjoyed some last night.” Brock quips, grinning wide. “Several times, actually.”

  I zone them out, forcing my eyes forward.

  If only that were the reason for my foul mood. I wish that it was. I could easily go out and find pussy if I wanted to, without any effort on my part.

  Except, the lack of it isn’t my problem.

  My problem is the gorgeous blond, with her tight little pussy and more than a handful gorgeous breasts, her perfect rosebud nipples and a mouth that moans my name to perfection.

  And she just walked through the door.

  I swallow hard, letting my eyes trail over her. Jesus. What the sight of this woman does to me should be a crime.

  My heart starts to race, and all the air leaves my lungs. Because even while she is standing in the front of the locker room next to coach, fully dressed, in my mind?

  She’s wearing nothing more than a tiny lace thong, and she’s moaning my name.

  Maybe if I would have done everything that I wanted to that night, I wouldn’t be in such bad shape today.

  But instead of burying myself deep inside of her, I stopped, leaving both of us high and dry, and ran out of there like a scared teenage boy.

  I couldn’t help it though. It was all too much…way too damn much. Everything about that night, and that day in general, had me feeling way too many things that I shouldn’t be.

  I had tried to not think about it, tried to pretend that this bet wasn’t hanging over my head like a black cloud, but I couldn’t stop fucking thinking about it.

  Lord knows, I have never in my life wanted sex more than I did in that very moment, or all the moments leading up to it.

  But once I felt her, felt exactly how damn tight she was, I just fucking knew.

  Her words that she had giggled at the hospital came crashing over me, and I knew that she had never done that before.

  Of course, I could be wrong, maybe it’s just been a really long time for her. But deep inside of my heart, I knew that if I went through with it, I would be taking something from her that she would never get back.

  Not to mention, leaving a piece of me with her, and opening me up to the fact that I may have a hell of a lot of feelings for her that I am way too stubborn to admit right now.

  I rub my hands along my face, trying my best to focus my mind on the game at hand.

  Coach claps his hands to get our attention, before delving into his pre-game speech. It’s always the same speech, telling us to focus, to keep our head in the game, so on and so forth.

  But I’m barely concentrating on him, because as hard as I try not to look at her, my eyes keep wandering over to Laci.

  She has on a tight white V-neck t-shirt, our team logo splashed across her chest in red lettering. Worn denim capris hang perfectly at her hips, and I don’t even need her to turn around to just know that her ass looks phenomenal.

  Her hair hangs down her shoulders in waves, and she has a red Rays hat on her head.

  She looks beautiful. But in my mind? She would look even better completely naked.

  She doesn’t look my way, not a single bit. In fact, I think that she is making sure to avoid looking at me at all costs.

  Finally, Coach finishes, before telling us all to go out there and kick some ass. He then turns to Laci and nods his head.

  “Floor is all yours.”

  She nods once, before turning her face to us and scanning the room, clearly looking everywhere but at me.

  “Good luck today guys. I have no doubt that you will go out there and kick some ass.” She finishes by nodding her head, before taking a step back towards the door.

  “That’s it?” Eric looks puzzled, before turning to Brock and I. “No big speech? No yelling? Brock and I were clearly busted last night. There’s pictures of it everywhere. She didn’t even utter a peep!”

  “Look at her.” Brock murmurs, elbowing me. “What happened to your girl?”

  I just shrug.

  Eddie chimes in first though. “Are you ok, Laci? What happened to your arm?”

  “Oh, nothing major. I just had a little fall over the weekend. It’s not broken, just a bad sprain. Thanks for asking.”

  “Too bad she wasn’t falling over you.” Eric winks at me, before a chuckle escapes him. “But if I know my boy, that will be happening soon enough.”

  Laci turns and leaves the locker room, but I am still stuck in my seat. Because Eric’s words just might end up being true enough.

  Except not for Laci.

  I just might be the one falling. And I am oh so fucked.

  Worst fucking game, ever.

  Actually, worst series ever.

  I can’t even remember a time in my life that I have ever played so shitty, three damn days in a row. Mondays game was rough, but todays was way worse. Tuesdays, we at least managed to pull ahead with the win, but it wasn’t at my hands.

  Today was hands down, my shittiest played game in the history of my entire baseball career. And I am counting all the way back to little league. Not even my massive screw up in the World Series last year can even compare to the level of terrible that I just played.

  Everyone walks towards the dugouts with our heads hung low. It’s one thing to lose an away game, but it’s an entirely different feeling to walk off your own field, with your own fans in the stands, after just getting butt raped by another team with half of the talent.

  “Fuck this shit.” Eric takes his mask off and launches it into the dugout, before smacking his fist against the wall. “I need to go and get drunk.”

  A chorus erupts as everyone agrees. I don’t utter a word, I’m too down on myself to say a single thing right now.

  Not that I have to. Coach looks like he’s about to fucking explode. His face is beat red, his arms are crossed, and his mouth is set in a thin line.

  He levels his glare at each one of us, as we all file into the dugout.

  We’re all in for a major ass chewing.

  I find my seat on the bench and tilt my head back against the concrete, closing my eyes.

  It’s not like I was the only one out there that played like shit, but still. I’m supposed to be the lead guy. The one who gets everyone amped up, the one that everyone follows.

  But I just couldn’t be that guy this time. There is way too much racket going on inside of my head, and I can’t seem to stop it enough to focus.

  “I don’t know what kind of fucking sport you assholes were trying to play out there.” Coach roars, his hand waving angrily at us. “But that wasn’t any kind of baseball. That was the sloppiest, most piss poor excuse of a game that I have ever seen played. And I’ve been around for a long fucking time!”

  Everyone is silent, each of us stewing to ourselves, not uttering a peep in our defense, because for fucks sake. There is no excuse.

  “Seattle. I just want to remind you all, that you just lost to Seattle.” He huffs before throwing up his arms. “Playing against them is like playing against a high school team. And you ass clowns just let them wipe the field with you.”

  I finally open my eyes, finding Laci standing right behind coach. “I don’t know if you guys were out partying and boozing it up or what. But I’m tempted to let Laci slap fines on all of you, just for playing so god damn shitty!”

  Laci’s face remains sullen, as she leans up against the dugout post.

  “Now, I want you all to take your asses straight home tonight. I best not hear about a single one of you fuckers out enjoying a drink. You have nothing to celebrate. As for the Georgia series, I expect better. I expect the best. Because that’s what we fucking paid for. Each one of you are replaceable. Some of you just one fuck up away from getting a ticket to ride. Don’t think for a second that I don’t know whose contracts are up after this season, because I do.”

  He slams his fist onto the shelf that hangs over the dugout edge before shaking his head and storming off, uttering a string of curse words under his breath.

  Mr. McAbey steps in
front of us next, but where coach exploded, he instead chastises us with a calm demeanor.

  So calm in fact, that I would rather have coach yelling in my face directly and telling me what a shit bag I was.

  “What just happened out there was a disgrace to baseball, and a disgrace to this club. Figure out the problem amongst yourselves, and fix it. Fast. Because these spots of yours are not guaranteed.” His eyes land on each of us coolly, before he turns to Laci.

  “Ms. Monroe, you now have the podium.” He steps to the side, nodding his head to her, and she takes a few steps forward, keeping way more distance than the other two did.

  “I’m not going to yell and scream at you guys.” She starts, glancing at everyone except me. “I’m sure you’re all beating yourselves up enough as it is.” Her eyes flick over to Mr. McAbey, and she gives him a pointed look, before turning her attention back to us.

  My heart swells at it, just the small gesture from her, having our backs.

  That’s my girl.

  Except, she is not my girl. Not by a long shot. Hell, she can’t even bring herself to look at me.

  “Just a few things to go over before we take off for Georgia. First, our flight leaves at 8am sharp. Your first game is at 7 on Friday night, so there will be a little bit of time to get settled in before we have to be at the field. You have afternoon games on both Saturday and Sunday. Some of you have opted to also stay on Sunday night, which is totally fine. It is Memorial Day Weekend after all. I have been told that I must also stay until the last player leaves, so, keep in mind that if you have some orgy planned for Sunday that I will also be there, so, you may want to cancel. Second, we have decided that you must all be dressed appropriately for travel. While I totally understand that everyone would rather wear comfy clothes to travel in, that will no longer be an option. We are trying to maintain an image here, and with that image comes appropriate attire. Navy blue suits, white shirts with red ties. That will be your new standard travel uniform. Bergdorf’s has agreed to see any of you that need to purchase a suit tomorrow. All the information has been emailed to you. If you do not need to purchase a suit, I just need to see what you have before you wear it. I have opened my entire schedule up tomorrow, so I can stop over at any time to see it. Or, we can meet here. Your choice.”

  This is the kind of thing that we would normally go nuts over. Another new rule. But no one is going to challenge her, at least not today, and not with Mr. McAbey standing right behind her.

  “That’s it. I just need Eric and Brock to stay after for a few minutes. Everyone else can go.”

  We all sulk off to the locker room, silent as we’ve ever been.

  But I know better. The only thing that is going to fix this for me is if I fix things with her.

  And I don’t know where to even begin on that.

  What would I even say? Hey, Laci. Sorry that I was such a douche to you the other day. But when you stripped off your clothes and fucked my hand, I felt how tight you were and realized that you were most likely a virgin?

  Or wait, better yet. I realized that I couldn’t fuck you, because I’ve never fucked a virgin before, and my conscience got the better of me, because I’m supposed to be nailing you for a bet?

  Yeah. Either of those would go over really fucking well.

  I could just go for the truth. I could tell her that I couldn’t do it because of the bet, because I didn’t want to hurt her if she found out the truth, because I think that I might be falling in love with her.

  That won’t work out either, because dear god. How many times has she mentioned that she would never date a baseball player?

  Any way you slice it, I’m screwed. And I have no idea how to fix it.

  “Unfuckingbelieveable!” Brock steps into the shower next to mine, his eyes murderous.

  “What? What happened?”

  “That bitch slapped both of us with fines. Ten thousand-dollar fines!”

  His words grate against me, and I grit my teeth so that I don’t tell him off for calling her a bitch.

  “Yeah.” Eric grumbles, slamming his shower door shut. “And if we don’t pay them by Friday at 5pm, we don’t play.”

  “So? Pay the fine. Ten grand is pocket change for each of you.” I mutter, flipping off my water switch.

  “It’s not the money, man. It’s the principle of it. I worked damn hard to get where I am. I should be able to sleep with whomever the fuck I want, without having to have them sign some stupid piece of paper. It’s fucked up on so many damn levels. That bitch needs to take a hike.”

  “Yeah, man. What the hell? Your time is almost up. If you don’t handle her real quick, I’m just going to have to do it myself.”

  I clench and unclench my fists, red hot fury running through me at the thought of anyone doing anything with her.

  But no way can I say that, since I don’t even know what in the fuck I’m doing with her. So instead, I storm out of the shower room without another word.

  After an incredibly sleepless night of tossing and turning, I decided that I have no choice but to bite the bullet.

  I have to talk to her.

  Since I also have to show her my suit, I’m killing two birds with one stone, right?

  I debated for at least an hour before texting her, as to whether to have her just come to my house, or if I should meet her here at the office.

  Since I know that the office is shut down today, and she will be the only one here, I opted for this. It’s a safe ground, where hopefully we can talk, without all of it blowing up on me.

  I pause in the hallway, a few minutes earlier than I planned on meeting her, trying to work up the nerve.

  I still, to this very moment, have no idea what in the hell I’m going to say to her. I need to apologize, but after that?

  I’ve got nothing.

  I take a deep breath, before shaking my head, and starting in the direction of her office. I didn’t bother to bring the suit, instead I just took a picture of it. If all goes well, and she really insists, maybe I can convince her to come home with me.

  But then again, is that really the right way to go about this?

  Hell if I know. I’m just hoping for a sign from the gods once I see her face. Because for once in my life, I am completely at a loss.

  I open the door to the suite that holds her office, and take another deep breath. My pace isn’t fast by any stretch, especially since I’m early.

  I make it almost to her hallway, when a blood curdling scream stops me in my tracks. But only for a split second. Because in the next, I’m sprinting down the hallway, coming to a skidding stop in her doorway.

  “What the…” my words die as I stare into her office, eyes open wide, at the scene in front of me.

  She’s standing in the middle of her office, eyes and mouth both open wide, covered in something gooey, and dear god.

  A shit ton of feathers.

  “Oh my god!” her eyes finally connect with mine, wide with surprise, before anger flashes.

  “You…”

  I hold my hands up, shaking my head.

  “No, not me. Holy shit! Are you ok?”

  I glance around the office, which is literally covered wall to wall with feathers. The ones that didn’t stick to Laci are stuck to the furniture, on the ceiling, or just circling in the air.

  I glance above us, at a fan that is connected to the ceiling. A huge jug is hung next to the fan, tipped over, a thick string of what smells like honey still hanging from the side.

  “Cock blocker, turned into a cock. Real freaking cute.” She mutters before taking a step towards her desk.

  Her hand flies up to her neck, and then, she coughs, drawing my attention back to her, before a wheeze leaves her lungs.

  “Fuck. Are you ok?”

  Her hands are on her knees, and she begins a cough, wheeze cycle, as though she can’t breathe.

  She waves her hand towards her desk, frantically. She tries to tell me something, but her voice is hoarse and broken
.

  “What? What is it?” My heart accelerates in my chest as I stare at her. Something here is not right, and I can’t figure out what it is.

  But then, in an instant, it hits me.

  “Holy fuck! Are you allergic to honey?”

  Her face is bright red as she nods, unable to speak.

  I spring into action, pulling open her drawers and rummaging through them. The bright yellow container of the epi-pen is in one of the bottom drawers. I clumsily grab it, pulling it open and briefly look at the instructions.

  She motions for it, grabbing it shakily out of my hand before flipping the cap herself and slamming it into her thigh.

  I waste no time grabbing her into my arms, totally ignoring the fact that she is sticky and covered in feathers.

  I carry her into the hallway, slamming her office door shut, before setting her down on the floor and assessing her.

  “Do I need to call an ambulance?”

  “No.” she finally croaks out, shaking her head.

  “It’s getting better. I just need to get to a shower.”

  Without any further words spoken, I scoop her back up and run full speed through the hallway, out the door and down the steps towards the locker room.

  She coughs in my arms, but the wheezing is better.

  I hit the key pad for the locker room, before rushing through the door and carrying her straight to the showers.

  She’s limp in my arms, much like a rag doll as I kick off my shoes and head into the showers. I flip on the water before standing under the stream, still fully clothed with her in my arms.

  “I can stand.” Her voice is barely above a whisper as I gingerly set her on her feet, feeling the warm water wash over both of us. I keep one arm firmly around her, as she coughs again.

  “We need to get these clothes off you.” I begin to unbutton her blouse with my free hand, the other still wrapped firmly around her waist.

  “No.” she swats my hand away, and when I keep trying, she takes both hands and pushes my chest, hard.

  “Laci, baby, let me…”