“From you I’ll take that as a compliment. Plus, jumping someone's bones at a party is just so me, right?” I fire back, harsher than I meant it to sound.
“Oh Minka, that’s not what I meant. Not every guy is like him.” Kels squeezes my hand under the sheet, but cocks her head. “Wait, they kind of are….but you need to beat them at their own game. Don’t give them the power to take you down and everything gets sooo much better. So much,” she waggles her light eyebrows at me, clearly insinuating what the benefits of taking her own power brought.
“She’s right. At least about the first part…not every guy is the scum of the earth,” Chloe chimes in, rubbing my back. “But I’m telling you Mink, you’re going to have to take a chance someday. I honestly don’t know how your heart is surviving.”
“Can we please drop this?” I plead as my cheeks heat with this latest romance insight by Chloe. “He’s a player and probably only came up to me on a dare, or because Allison wasn’t there yet.”
“Ugh that hoe-bag was there alright. She spilled an entire beer down my leg and proceeded to death-stare me like it was somehow my fault. That bitch is nastier than my Aunt Felicia’s pet poodle.” Kels grumbles. She really does have a way with words.
Allison Renner was your typical queen bee. Head of the cheerleading squad, one of the richest kids in town, she drove a convertible BMW and I wouldn’t be surprised if her bleach blonde mane was insured. She and Owen had dated almost our entire sophomore year, until he broke it off before leaving for college. Owen and Allison, the stereotypical teenage golden couple. They’d won Homecoming King & Queen, made out in the halls between periods and there was a rumor way back when that she’d be following him to college where they’d live together. Excuse me while I vomit in my mouth.
I ignore the twinge in my chest as memories of Owen pinning Allison to the nearest locker flood my brain’s personal movie theater. Why would I even care? Its not like I want to be anything like her.
No, but after last night, my body had started to warm to the idea of being with him.
“Whatever, we don’t need to waste anymore time on her. You guys want some cereal?”
“Ugh, we need to start staying at Chlo’s more often, Mama Trabucco always has homemade pastries. Mmmm, those delicious ones with chocolate and almonds in the middle…” Kels whines as she strolls to the dresser and begins to brush her hair, “Anyways, no, I gotta head to the preserve.”
Kels spins her tendrils around until they form a neat knot on top of her head, which she secures with a bright orange hair tie. She’s worked for her father at the Mitchum Nature Preservation since grade school. She didn’t need to work, her parents are wealthy non-profit do-gooder types, but Kels is so passionate about nature and animals that it was more like fun than work.
“Yeah I have to go too. Church first, and then mama promised to take me shopping for new leotards. Of course I’ll send pictures. I think I want a few more—”
“Let me guess, pink ones?” Kels finishes Chloe’s sentence with an eye roll. Chlo lives for anything pink, she is the ultimate girly-girl. Kels, the proverbial tomboy of our group, gets off on teasing her about it.
“Yes, and maybe I’ll even get a black one, to match your soul.” Chlo sticks her tongue out as she slides her feet into her pink flip-flops. Chlo’s family owns a string of highly successful Italian Restaurants. Most of them are Zagat-rated, which is saying a lot considering this is North Carolina, home of fish fry and ribs. And with her Italian family values, attending church on Sunday was an absolute. The only excuse that got her out of it was recitals or a performance. I might have had two left feet, but watching my best friend dance was like watching God perform a miracle. She really is destined to be a prima ballerina.
We make our way into the foyer of my father’s sprawling ranch. You’d be surprised how much the people of Mitchum paid their Chief to keep any and all scandal out of the papers. I leave out crime because, really, the most that happens here is a cat gets stuck up a tree or some cocky boys steal beer out of someone’s garage.
“Aight’ bitch, we out. Call us later if you want to divulge any hot fantasies about Mr. Axel,” Kels winks, licks her lips, blows me a kiss and is out the door.
“I’ll text you. Let’s get dinner tonight, or watch a movie or something. You aren’t allowed to sit on the porch reading books all summer,” Chlo shoots me a stern look before wrapping her arms around me.
“But what if I like books better than people? Wait, rephrase that, I do like books better than people. So, let me live.”
“Oh, stop. Love you, see you later.” I close the door behind her and survey my surroundings. It’s not that our house isn’t beautiful, it just doesn’t look like anyone lives here. The whole place has always reminded me of one of those extended-stay hotels. It lacks all the homeyness I’d come to envy when visiting my friends’ houses.
I walk back towards my room, which at least has a little more flare. Pictures of me, Chloe and Kelsey hang around the wood mirror over my dresser, lotion and perfume bottles sitting in rows underneath them. Having a slight touch of OCD, ok maybe more than slight, I organize my closet in color-coordinated sections by season. Yes, admitting to addiction is the first step to recovery.
One of my favorite things about my room is my bookshelf, or should I say wall of books. One of the only fatherly gestures Chief Braxton has shown me in the past decade was installing that wall of built-in shelves in my room.
Books overflow from the brims of the ceiling-high towers, and it calms me just to have all of my favorite stories at the touch of my fingertips. Circling, I focus in on the nightstand that contains, in the bottom drawer under a stack of notebooks, the only picture of my mother I’d ever come across.
Deciding not to suffer in the silence of my empty house, or be left alone with my Owen thoughts, I pull open my closet doors and grab my Nikes. Time to clear my head, and running always did the trick.
4
Owen
Sweat pours off my shoulders as the North Carolina sun beats down my back. I always forget how fucking hot it is here in the summer. At school in Virginia, it is a little less humid. Or at least less like this swamp-air I’m trying to run through.
My legs pump in a rhythmic motion as my feet pound the pavement in Mitchum Park. My body vibrates with adrenaline, I knew running would clear my head. Plus, I’d missed this park. These trails. The heavily-wooded park that lay the outskirts of town.
I need my head clear these days, I prayed for it. With only one thought plaguing my every waking moment, making it to the big show, I felt a little like a hamster on a wheel. Making it. The MLB. It had been drilled into my head since the day my former-pro father found out I was left handed.
Carter Axel, all-star first baseman, had made sure his only son would be a great pitcher someday. Whether I wanted that or not.
Regardless of my unfortunate biological ties, I’m happy to be back in Mitchum for the summer. Seeing my boys, partying and no games for three months. And last night had proven to be a great kickoff to what I kept thinking of as my last lazy summer. Except for the one little hiccup, Hinkel’s party had kicked ass.
So why can’t I stop thinking about the hiccup? Chicks always come so easily to me. Talking them into bed, out of their underwear, and sending them on their way with a smile. Its what I did, and I was good at it. Great at it. So how had I managed to single out the one girl who was apparently allergic to my charm?
Minka Braxton is cute. No, not cute. She’s gorgeous and sexy in a girl-next-door way. She has no idea how attractive she is, but exudes this brazen confidence through every pour. She is a walking contradiction.
When I’d spotted her across the lawn at Hinkley’s party, it was all I could not to trip over my feet trying to get there first, before another guy could swoop in on what I wanted.
Her slim, tan legs wafting in the water, meeting her tiny waist hidden by those sexy-as-fuck jean shorts. Her white tank top highlighting the way her tits pushed toge
ther, revealing some tan, sun-freckled cleavage but concealing so much more.
I wanted to find out what was concealed, and for a couple seconds all I could think of was what they would feel like in my hands. She had elegant but muscular arms that held onto that beer, and when she took a long, lazy pull from that bottle, my dick twitched to attention.
Yeah, her body is slammin’, but it was her face that had me pushing people aside to reach her from across the backyard.
Minka has high cheekbones in a rounded face, with features that make her look like a mediterranean model. Dark brown pools convey her every emotion, and flashed with a bit of uncertainty and annoyance as she surveyed the party. A slender hooked nose tied her face together, and I automatically wanted to plant a kiss on it. Which was not my usual game, but even before I’d spoken to her I knew this girl wouldn’t be my typical conquest.
Long, unruly brown tendrils hung down her back, and my fingers itched to wrap them around my hand as I yanked back to feast on her perfect collarbone. And her mouth, god, I don’t think I could focus on it too long or I’d keep imagining those plump, peach lips on my own. Kissing down my body. Or better yet, wrapped around my cock.
So, I was an idiot for not realizing she was from Mitchum, much less that she had shared a gym class with me for four whole months. I was actually still kicking myself for that one, how had I been so close to that beautiful creature and not noticed?
Her sarcasm and biting comebacks surprised me, no chick had ever talked to me like that. Usually they didn’t even do much talking. But it actually left me wanting more. I was surprised I wasn’t drooling on her halfway through her verbal attack.
As if my mind could conjure her, I focus in on a perfectly rounded ass jogging at a steady pace about 30 feet up the trail. When I see the mass of curls tied back and swishing just above her lower back, I don’t even think and break into a sprint. This girl is already affecting my usual game in all sorts of ways.
Pulling up closely behind her, I turn down the rock music I’d been blasting in my headphones.
I can hear the rap music booming so loudly in her ears that I know Minka definitely didn’t hear me sneak up behind her. I watch as she trots along for a few minutes, rapping the lyrics under her breath. Damn, she can do that pretty well for someone who’s keeping pace with a nine-minute mile.
Her perky ass taunts me and my dick, which can’t seem to stay anywhere lower than semi-erect around her.
She moves her body fluidly, arms matching the pace and rhythm of her shapely legs. Sweat gathers on her neck and all I want to do is to take her down and lick every inch of her gleaming figure. She looks pretty doing something that made me smell like a sweaty jockstrap. Where had this girl been all my life?
Still not aware of my presence, I decide it’s time to stop being a stalker and announce myself. But how? I’d like to think I could give that peach of an ass a spank. But fuck, as much as my hand is itching to, Minka would probably use my headphone chords to strangle me.
She loathed me trying to cheaply seduce her last night, I had a feeling she might murder me with her bare hands if I touched her without asking.
Moving forward, I fall into step with her and lightly tap her tan, bare shoulder. My dick rears up from just the contact with her flesh. If I am ever lucky enough to seduce this girl into my bed, I will for sure have to excuse myself to jack it before we got down to business. Wouldn’t want to embarrass myself in front of her.
She immediately stiffens and looks back, a mixture of fear and fury painting those beautiful features. She’s afraid? What’s she got to be afraid of?
I move quickly in front of her to block her path, trying to make her aware that it was only me. But, I hadn’t anticipated my movements throwing her off balance.
As she turns back, I move around her, forcing her to turn her head on a double-take. This takes her attention away from her feet, which are now tangling and giving out from under her. I watch the surprise on Minka’s face, almost in slow motion, as she begins to fall, and I immediately reach out to grab her waist.
Dragging her descending form towards me, she throws my center off balance and we begin to fall together. We’re going down, and seconds before we hit I angle my body under hers so that I take the brunt of it.
Grunting on impact, my lower back and shoulders make contact with the gravel. We bounce and skid, once, twice, before coming to a stop. I can already feel cuts on my calves from where they’d scraped along the ground. But all is forgotten the moment I realize Minka is lying flush against me, with my arms hooked around her hips.
Looking down, I can see the tops of her breasts peeking out of her sports bra. The mounds are dotted with tiny sun freckles and I swear I imagine laying her down in my bed and counting those endlessly. I can feel the sweat on her waist and my hand moves slowly to the curve of her lower back, relishing her silky skin as my cock presses against her tight stomach.
Down boy, I have a feeling we are about to be scolded. And I was right, for when I finally meet those beautifully rounded eyes, its as if I’d pissed off an extra-gnarly rattlesnake.
“What the hell?! Are you fucking crazy?” Minka explodes, pushing off of me.
My dick surges forward as the curse flies past her lips. Nothing gets me harder than a girl with a dirty mouth. But now was most definitely not the time.
“Are you ok, you’re not hurt?” I voice my concern as I start to get up, already feeling my sore tailbone protest the movements.
“Why the hell did you do that?” She starts to stalk away, and my eyes roam over her body, checking for scrapes or bruises. She seems fine, but I have to jog to keep up with her.
“Sorry, I saw you ahead of me and wanted to get your attention. I had no idea you had the grace of a newborn pony. It’s not my fault you couldn’t hear me, what with the rap party going on in your ears.”
Her face reddens and she casts her eyes to the side, as if she’s embarrassed that I’d found out her music taste.
“Why did you look afraid when I tapped on your shoulder?”
Now she looks a little pale. It shouldn’t turn me on, but her face is just so expressive. “I thought you were….someone else…never mind.”
I walk backwards in front of her as she tries to outrun me.
“Are you always going to try and run every time I want to talk to you? Because it's going to be mighty hard to tear your thong to pieces—” I break off as she stops dead in her tracks, proceeds to punch me rather hard in the arm.
“Listen up Golden Boy, and listen good. I have no interest in having a conversation with you, nor am I going to drop my panties any time you sniff in my direction. You and I really have nothing in common, and I’m far from your usual damsel-slut in distress, so keep your hands off me, and leave me alone.”
God, she’s sexy. Her dark mocha-colored ponytail drapes sexily over her shoulder as raw anger pours from her slim figure, and the gleam in her eyes could spark a fire. It was all I could to keep from hauling her over my shoulder and showing her what I could do with my hands.
“So you think I’m a Golden boy, eh?” I wink at her, licking my lips over-enthusiastically.
For a millisecond, Minka’s eyes drop to my mouth and I can see blatant desire flash in those dark chocolate pools. And then she takes off. I need to sprint to catch up to the vicious pace she’s now keeping. Pulling ahead of her and stopping short, I cut her off, effectively stopping her.
“Ok look, I’m sorry. I wanted to get your attention and it totally backfired. I promise to keep my hands off of you until you positively beg me for it,” I throw her what I know is my mega-watt smile. “But, can you please take me somewhere to clean out these cuts?” I motion to my legs and send up a prayer that my plan to buy more time with her will work.
“Do I look like your candy-striper? You caused your pain, you can surely clean it up.”
Ah shit, now I was picturing her wearing a short little red nurse’s uniform and that really wasn’t doing any
thing to help my swelling boner. But I really can’t go back to my parent’s like this. My father would lock me in the house for the rest of the summer for fear of injuring his MLB prodigy.
“I can’t go home like this. My dad would have a conniption if he knew I’d been doing anything besides preserving my body for baseball. Please, seriously you have to help me.”
I see a flash of emotion in her eyes, it reminds me of something very close to pity, which makes me scowl. I don’t need this girl’s pity. Minka turns around and starts walking down the path. Just when I think it’s a lost cause, she yells back without looking over her shoulder.
“Fine all-star, you can come over and grab some Band-Aids. I’m warning you though, even think about pulling another stunt like that and you’ll be hurting a lot worse when it comes to things that involve balls.”
5
Minka
Ok, so I caved. But in my defense Owen was standing there with sweat glistening down his drool-worthy arms. They look like steel encased in tan smooth leather. And his shirt was soaked through, so much that I could see it clinging to a six…. no, make that eight, pack. It just wasn’t a fair fight.
And he had this slightly panicked look on his perfect face when he mentioned his father. All of my lady parts were yelling at me, drowning out my common sense. So I agreed to be his candy-striper. But I still had my head about me.
He didn’t have to realize that I’d crumbled with just a glance at his very tight stomach. I was mainly trying to deny how heat had pooled in my belly when I was flush against his perfect body. My lady parts had been entombed about a year ago, never being heard from again, and I couldn’t even lie to myself that I wanted the sensations down south to stop.
And he was making it clear from the get go what he wanted, not leading me on with promise of a forever, or even a right now. No hope, no chance at getting hurt, right?
We walk through the front door of my house, and I’m just waiting for the comments about how small my moderately sized abode is compared to his parent’s estate. But when I sneak a glance to my right, Owen’s face is neutral, as if he doesn’t even notice.
Pitching to Win (Over the Fence #1) Page 2