Ace's Wild: A Bad Boy Sports Romance (The Beasts of Baseball Book 2)

by Alice Ward

  “Well, that was then, this is now,” I said, trying to be objective. “Besides, I haven’t seen him in months. The season was over. I went home. Life went on for both of us.”

  “When are you seeing him again?” I squirmed in my seat, not liking how pushy she was getting.

  Shit.

  In my haste to come off confident, cool, and even a little cocky, I’d left the ball in Ace Newman’s hands. What was I thinking?

  “I called, and we talked about hooking up but never set an actual date,” I admitted.

  “So, he’s supposed to call you, or are you supposed to call him?” she pushed, sipping her wine slowly, eyeing me as she finished her glass.

  “He’s supposed to call me.”

  She set her glass down and reached for the bottle, pouring us both another, nearly to the brim.

  “Well, good. Let him call you.”

  Really? Let Ace Newman call me. That’s a joke. I hated to admit it but every hook up we’ve ever had was initiated by me, every one of them!

  “Don’t you think he’ll call you?” Whitney asked. I knew my face was filled with panic; I didn’t know why I thought I’d get it by her.

  I shook my head and lifted the glass to my lips, sipping the sweet alcohol slowly as I mentally beat myself up. Why didn’t I say I’d call him when I got here? What was I thinking?

  “Holly, if he calls, great. If not, that’s great too,” Whitney said a little too calmly.

  I took a deep breath, feeling calmer. “You’re right. It’s not like I won’t see him around.”

  “What are you two ladies doing in here?” Calvin asked, his head pushed through the kitchen doorway.

  Whitney held up her glass of wine and smiled. She stood, moved to him, and gripped him around the waist. The way he looked at her, touched her, smiled at her. I wanted that. Ace Newman would never be that man. Maybe it was better if he didn’t call.

  “I’m glad you had a safe trip,” Calvin said.

  “Thank you. And, you’re certain I won’t be a bother?” I asked.

  He shook his head, brushed the blond hair from his forehead and smiled. “Not at all. Whitney really could use the company.”

  Her arms were still locked around his waist as she smiled so wide I could count most of her teeth. Her head nodded wildly. “Yes, it’s such a bore around here during baseball season. Which is all the damn time!”

  Calvin excused himself after giving Whitney an embarrassingly long kiss. I was glad to see him in such good shape. His injury last season had us all scared he’d be done with baseball. He was a strong man, a good man. Whitney was lucky.

  “Come help me make dinner?” Whitney asked.

  I was starved. “Sure.”

  The alcohol diminished the sting of the cold wind as we walked outside and to the main house. Either that or it had started to warm up. Alcohol.

  “You know what? I don’t feel like cooking,” Whitney announced. “You want to go out?”

  I’d eaten Whitney’s cooking more than once. “Yes, that’d be amazing.”

  Calvin chuckled behind me. “Her cooking has gotten better.”

  “That’s not what I meant.” I blushed.

  Whitney’s bottom lip popped out, and her eyes batted in my direction.

  “I promise,” I lied.

  “Is it okay if Jack tags along?” he asked.

  Whitney looked confused. “Who’s Jack?”

  “Jack Peterson. Our new third baseman, just drafted from Detroit. I promised him we’d have a drink later, but since we’ll all be going out, it might be nice to invite him.”

  Whitney looked at me, her eyes wide and playful. I knew what was on her mind. New man. Not Newman.

  “Would you mind, Holly?” she asked.

  I know your game, sista!

  “I swear this isn’t a setup,” Calvin quickly interjected. “These were my plans, not hers. We can go out alone, and you ladies can do your own thing.”

  “How about Holly and I have dinner, and then meet up with you two later for drinks?” Whitney compromised.

  She looked at me, and I nodded.

  I could live with that.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Ace

  I could already hear the commotion outside my door before the bell chimed. I opened it to Frank, Luke, and a couple other guys from the team standing on my front steps.

  “Beasts!” I screamed, motioning for them to come inside.

  Frank patted me on the shoulder and quickly made his way to the two blondes sitting on my couch. I laughed, watching him squeeze in between them, his arms around each of their shoulders. I didn’t even have to hear what he was saying to know he was laying down the same old line that never worked. He was the only baseball player who couldn’t get laid, and that was before they even saw his little dick.

  Hell, he couldn’t get laid in a whore house with a Gold MasterCard.

  Luke shook his head, smiled, and looked around my place. “Nice pad.”

  Pad? Was this the seventies?

  “Make yourself at home, kid.” I slapped him on the back and headed back to the bar where I’d left my drink.

  Luke followed me. “I’ve heard about your wild parties.”

  “Nothing wild tonight, just good clean fun, kid.” I grabbed a glass and scooped in some ice. I was watching his face, trying to read his thoughts as I poured some of my best scotch over the frozen cubes.

  “Here ya go.” I handed him the glass and raised mine to toast his. “Here’s to staying positive and testing negative.” Our glasses clinked together, Luke grinned at my toast in an odd way, and then slowly took a sip. “Smooth, eh?”

  He nodded. He still had that shit-eating grin on his face.

  “So, is Calvin coming later?” he asked.

  “No. Calvin has things to do tonight.”

  I felt that twinge in my stomach, the one I’d had all day. I knew what Calvin had to do tonight — entertain Holly, that’s what. She was in New York, only miles from me and it was like my dick wanted to point in her direction. Fuck, I could practically smell her. The woman had wormed her way into my mind and hell if I could pry her little ass out.

  After Holly called last night, I almost couldn’t finish what I’d started with that cute little blonde — almost. I tried to blame it on Belinda and how she’d sucked me dry just hours earlier, but there’d been plenty of nights I’d dropped more than one load. It was her voice, knowing that she was coming here, and the fact that I really wanted to see her. That shit had me fucked up.

  “I saw him talking to Jack. Those two going out?” Luke asked, bringing my focus back to him.

  “Do I look like a fucking babysitter, kid?”

  My sharp tone didn’t even faze this cocky little bastard. “I just heard you and Calvin were pretty tight.”

  “Yeah, before he turned into a pussy whipped homebody.”

  Luke laughed. “I’ve seen his woman. Can’t blame him for staying home with that. So you two don’t hang out anymore?”

  His invasion into my privacy was growing annoying fast. Everybody thought it was so special that Calvin and Whitney had gotten back together after basically screwing their heads off with other people. But all that mushy shit was a joke. They’d get bored with each other soon enough, just like everybody did.

  Because that’s what happened — people screwed other people over. People sucked, that’s why I didn’t need anyone in my life for more than five minutes.

  I was better off alone.

  “Look, kid, why don’t ya go help Frank out with those two honeys.” I motioned towards the couch. Everything and everybody was pissing me off, and I needed something to take this edge off before I punched someone out.

  Frank looked like he was in heaven, but the women looked trapped. They knew he had money, which might get him a blowjob, but not much more. Luke, on the other hand, was handsome, charming, a little gullible, just the type they’d love to eat alive and spit out freshly chewed. Go get ‘em, boy.
r />   A few more of the guys came in, each bringing several women to spread around the party. The louder the party got, the more annoyed I became. The more my skin felt like it was getting too tight. I needed to get out of here for a minute.

  Heading up the stairs, I went straight to my bedroom where I closed the door behind me, leaning back on the cool wood. My eyes focused straight to my dresser, but I headed into the bathroom instead.

  Splashing water on my face, I reminded myself that I was starting this season fresh. No drugs. Less drinking. Fewer women. I met my reflection in the mirror. I looked like fucking shit. Old.

  Fuck it.

  I snapped off the light and went straight to the dresser. It ain’t the damn season yet.

  Digging into a drawer, I found what I was looking for. A small baggy with some of the best powder a couple grand can buy. Just this once, I told myself. Just so I can have some fun at the party, not be such a douche to my guests.

  Before I could talk myself off the ledge, the powder was spilled out onto my dresser, and the credit card in my hand was sliding it into two large lines, chopping with a familiar rhythm.

  Just this once, I reminded myself as I rolled a fifty into a straw.

  One good snort, a second to drain, and then the other nostril took its turn at the burn. In seconds, life was pumped back into my tired body, and I breathed it in, feeling like Superman had taken over my system.

  Damn. Why did I even think about quitting? Fuck, I deserve to feel like this every day.

  “Ace?”

  Elation morphed into irritation in an instant, and I pushed the evidence of my failure into the top drawer, wiped my nose, and opened the door to the female voice.

  “Did ya miss me?” It was the chick from last night. Belinda. And she was giving me her best sex kitten look.

  No. No, I didn’t fuckin’ miss her. Who invited her?

  “Hey, darlin’.” I tried to remain polite, but I wanted to know who in the fuck invited her to my house. “What—?”

  She stalked into the room, like a hunter seeking her prey, and before I could say more, she was working on my zipper. The hiss of its downward descent was the only sound in the room as I tried to deal with everything slamming into me at once.

  The drugs still seizing my system.

  Being interrupted before I was ready.

  Being fucking assaulted by someone I didn’t want or expect.

  Before I could speak, my button was undone, my zipper down, and Belinda’s hand was searching for my cock.

  “Who’d you come with?”

  “I came with a couple of the girls.” I barely felt her nails piercing into my flesh as she dragged my still soft cock from my boxers.

  “Oh yeah, what girls?”

  She pumped me like she was trying to give CPR to my limp dick, squeezing what little life it had from the tip of my cock.

  “You act like you don’t want me here.” She pouted, loosening her death grip on my poor penis.

  I gripped her shoulders, pushed her away gently, sliding my body away from her hand. “No, it’s just…” I didn’t know how to finish that sentence. It’s just that I didn’t fucking invite you. You’re not who I really want. What the hell was I supposed to say?

  “I wasn’t expecting to see you,” I said, forcing my voice to stay low and even.

  Her bottom lip puffed out even farther. She moved closer, her hand reaching for my cock again. “Surprise.”

  “I’m just a little worn out tonight, darlin’.” I stepped backward, quickly fastening my pants.

  “I see.” Her eyes grew as cold as her tone. Here we go. “I’m good enough to shove your cock down my throat while I’m at work, but I shouldn’t disturb you at home, is that it?” she snapped.

  “Look. I’ve been nothing but nice to you. You wanted my cock down your throat, sweetie, so let’s not forget that part, and it was after my tongue was in your pussy, so don’t even pretend our exchange was one-sided.”

  She opened her mouth, but I held up a hand.

  “I didn’t invite you here. You show up at my bedroom door and try to maul me without even saying hello. I’m trying to be polite, but you’re being rude. So, you want it straight, I’ll give it to you straight. When I want another nob polish, I’ll come get it.”

  Her face turned pale, her mouth opened, and that once pouting bottom lip began to tremble. Dear God, I didn’t mean to make her cry. Here comes the water works.

  “I’m sorry. Don’t cry.” I opened my arms and moved towards her. I patted her on the back as she wiped her tears, and I’m pretty certain, her nose on my shirt.

  “I just thought you’d be happy to see me.” She sniffled. “Is it because of her?”

  My mind raced. Because of who? Holly? How did she know about Holly? And of course, it wasn’t fucking because of her. I stared at Belinda, trying to figure out who she was talking about.

  “The blonde?” she offered, her voice barely above a whisper.

  “Oh.” I couldn’t believe I’d forgotten about her already. It had only been a little over twelve hours since I’d gotten her out of my bed and into a cab.

  “No. Of course not.” I rubbed her lower back.

  Her large breasts smashed into my chest. Her heartbeat was rapid, her breathing sporadic, and her hand back to my crotch. Seriously? This is why I don’t repeat women.

  My thoughts drifted to Holly. I’d repeated her several times — hell, several dozen times — I was even considering seeing her again. She usually stayed here with me when she came into town. I found it odd that she decided to stay with Whitney this time instead. I was half-expecting her to be on my doorstep after practice today when Calvin told me she would be in this afternoon. When he added that Whitney was excited to have her stay there, it stung a little.

  My cock pulsed in the softness of Belinda’s hand, and she smiled before sinking to her knees. She looked up with her big green eyes, slowly parted her perfectly painted red lips, and took me into her mouth.

  My head fell back against my shoulders, and my eyes closed as Belinda’s tongue began to work its magic. Then images of Holly’s smile filled my mind. Her beautiful blue eyes had small flecks of green in them, only visible in the right light. Her smile was crooked, not in a Popeye kind of way, but cute. Adorable actually.

  What was she doing at Whitney’s?

  Was she out with her and Calvin?

  What had she been doing all this time in Indiana while I was in Hawaii?

  She hadn’t called once while I was gone. I expected her to. I wanted her to. Why didn’t she call?

  “Am I doing something wrong?” I hadn’t even realized Belinda had pulled her mouth from my cock.

  I looked down at my limp penis, shameful. Her skilled lips were more than capable of keeping me aroused and bringing me to climax, so what was the problem?

  “I’m sorry, darlin’. I guess I just have a lot on my mind.”

  Her eyes glared up at me, but instead of being insulted, she seemed to take my excuse as a challenge. Her mouth latched back onto me, determined to get what she came for.

  “Oh shit, I’m sorry.” Luke stopped short at my bedroom doorway.

  I gripped Belinda’s hair, pulled her away from me, and quickly fastened my pants. She stood, turned, and smiled at Luke as she wiped her mouth. “We’ll try again later, babe,” she whispered, winked, and walked out of the room.

  “What’s up?” I asked, trying to play it cool.

  I was nowhere in the vicinity of cool.

  The cocaine was flowing through my veins, the stress of losing my erection eating me up, and thoughts of Holly ripping me to shreds.

  “I was just gonna let you know I was taking off,” he said.

  “Alright. Well, have a good night.”

  “Yeah, you too. Good luck with your girl later.” He shot me a cocky grin. “It happens to the best of us.”

  It doesn’t happen to Ace motherfuckin’ Newman. Who did this kid think he was?

  “S
he caught me off guard. Who the fuck invited her anyway?” I probed, realizing he was the only one who could have. Marty, fuck no, he wasn’t even here, and Frank, that fucker knew better.

  “I didn’t invite her. She just wanted a ride,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck.

  Nice job, dickweed!

  “Future advice. Don’t ever bring anyone not pre-approved to my parties ever again.” My tone was strong but fair.

  “Sorry, man. Won’t happen again.”

  “I have a rule. If I don’t invite a woman to my home, it’s because I don’t want her to know where I live.”

  “Got it. It won’t happen again. Anyway, I gotta go pack. Leaving early tomorrow.”

  Wait… what?

  “Leaving for where?” I asked him.

  He looked at me like I’d grown two heads. “Florida. Spring training.” His eyes widened. “Oh yeah, maybe you didn’t know they’re sending the pitchers down early.”

  No, I didn’t know. And I didn’t like not knowing shit.

  “That’s right,” I lied. “Forgot about that. What time are you all meeting up?”

  “Clubhouse at nine.”

  I smiled at him. “Alright, kid. Have fun and be sure to leave a few of the women for me.”

  He gave me a little salute, and without another word, he turned, and I watched him walk down the stairs, pat Frank on the back, and then leave with the blonde who’d been in my bed just hours earlier.

  Belinda wasn’t anywhere to be seen, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t hiding behind the curtains or in the dryer. Yes, I’ve had that shit happen before.

  I sat down on the large white couch in the center of my living room, watched the people in my house laughing, drinking, dancing, and fooling around. They were all having a blast, or at least they appeared to be.

  Glad someone was. Even my hit upstairs wasn’t bringing me to life like it should have. I might need a second.

  Frank brought me a fresh drink. “Thanks, man.”

  He sat down next to me, concern written on his face. “So, what’s wrong?” Damn, was Marty rubbing off on him?

  “Not a thing, brother,” I said lightly. “Just dealing with unexpected company.” I chuckled, slapped Frank’s leg, and downed the drink in one long gulp.