Winning Streak

by Alice Ward

  Calvin slipped into the backseat without saying a word to me or even looking in my direction. “Who’s ready to tear this town up?” he asked, instantly throwing the somewhat calm group into a chaotic frenzy.

  “Katrina thought she could keep us away from the party. But what she didn’t know, is we are the party,” Luke yelled out as the driver headed toward the south side of the beach.

  It took literally only a few minutes to reach Main Street and the bar that Luke had chosen. Why anyone left him in charge was beyond me. The place was nice, so I didn’t complain.

  The blonde bartender’s eyes lit up, and I was confident her nipples hardened as we all walked into the small, mostly empty place. The guys spread out into three groups but kept their tables close enough to interact. I was standing there, not sure where to go when Kane gripped my elbow. “You want the cool kids’ table,” he said with a laugh.

  I sat down with him and Jake Peterson, our third baseman. Blake Osborne and Luke Singleton were there too, both pitchers I looked forward to working with soon.

  “So, how you like being a Beast?” Jake asked.

  He was goofy, maybe just because he was so nice. I wasn’t sure what to make of him yet, but he wasn’t my usual cup of tea. “It’s not too bad.”

  “At least you got to stay in your hometown,” Kane said, kicking back his chair onto two legs.

  “True.”

  “I miss California so fuckin’ bad,” he said, his lips rolling down into a frown as he spoke.

  “What’s so great about California?” Jake asked.

  Everyone at the table looked at him with surprise. I knew some of them were thinking women in bikinis or that it was so warm and pretty all year round, but not me. I was thinking about rock climbing, cliff diving, sky diving, scuba excursions with the sharks, and all the other excitement the state offered.

  “Surfing,” Kane said with a smile.

  I didn’t see a surfer when I looked at Kane Steele. His body was ripped, so he could probably handle a wave. His dark, thick hair was perfectly groomed, his demeanor more uptight—and without being too judgmental—his vocabulary more rounded than what I’d assumed a surfer’s to be. I hadn’t heard him say dude or gnarly once. He didn’t look like the typical surfer from California.

  The bartender finally made her way to our table, taking orders as fast as we could spit them out. “Just bring us four pitchers,” Luke spoke up, easing the stress on the bartender’s leathered face.

  “She’s kinda hot,” Luke said, licking his lips as she walked away.

  I tried not to make a face, but it was hard not to. Her saggy ass was squeezing out of the top of her jeans, and she would have been pretty without so much makeup, or if she’d washed her hair.

  “Seriously?” Kane asked and laughed so loud it echoed through the bar.

  Ace was sipping on a soda. Not a beer, not tequila, but a soda. I admired him for that. I wished my brother could battle his demons the way Ace had done. My younger brother was always trouble. I was eight when Marcus was born, so by the time he started getting into real trouble, like getting drunk at thirteen, smoking pot, and experimenting with heavier drugs, I was already in the minors, fighting my way to where I was now. Well, where I had been with the Mets. Here, this is just where I'd landed until I'd proved I could follow the rules. Or didn’t get caught not following them.

  Everyone was having a great time, listening to the jukebox, talking about nothing, and pretending they weren’t here to work their asses off for a moment. It was nice. I was glad Ace had convinced me to come. Otherwise I would have missed out on finding out that Jake once got beat up by a girl, or that Kane was once a child model. I loved hearing all the stories about Ace, and even some of them with Calvin involved. I could see where Calvin had gotten caught up with him and even felt somewhat empathetic about how he’d almost lost Whitney because of it. Somewhat.

  The band was setting up on the tiny stage in the corner of the bar when Katrina walked in. I followed her with my eyes as she found a seat at the bar, organized her electronics and folders in front of her, and put in an order with the bartender. I was curious if she’d ordered a real drink, or if she was keeping it professional by drinking water, coffee, or some other drink no one should ever order in a bar.

  She was trying to be discreet, but I noticed her checking me out over her shoulder. Those eyes of hers were dangerous, seductive, and so very elusive.

  I slid out of my seat, moved toward her, and worked hard at keeping my dick under control as she turned to look at me with those amazing green eyes. “You come here often?” I asked with my cheesiest tone.

  She laughed. Damn, I loved that smile.

  “I try not to.”

  “So, what are you doing here?” I asked as the bartender handed her a glass of water with a lemon wedge floating in it.

  “Babysitting,” she smirked.

  “Of course. Well, you should know, I’ve been a real bad boy.”

  Her eyes narrowed, her lips curled. I could see a hint of excitement rushing through her. “Have you now?”

  I nodded.

  “And what have you done?” she asked.

  “Drink a beer with me, and I’ll tell ya.”

  “No, thanks,” she declined but still smiled.

  My dick twitched as she brushed the loose curl that fell from her bun and dangled at her cheek. “Well, it doesn’t matter anyway. As long as you’re here to watch me now.”

  I took the seat beside her, ordered two beers, and then slid one to her. She pushed it back toward me, her pink fingernails clinking against the glass. “If you don’t drink it, then I have to.”

  “Uh huh. Guess so.”

  “But, what if I get drunk?” I teased.

  “I’m sure it wouldn’t be your first time.”

  The jukebox started to play a country song, one I didn’t recognize. The beat was fast and fun. My eyes watched Katrina’s foot start to tap on the rung of her bar stool.

  “You want to dance?” I asked.

  She shook her head. Her cheeks brightened to a beautiful pink color. She looked over her shoulder at the other players. I knew she was concerned about what they were thinking. I didn’t care. They were drinking, laughing, and having a good time. Hell, they were probably relieved that I was keeping the babysitter occupied.

  “No one’s watching us,” I insisted.

  Her demeanor and anxiousness made me wonder if she’d ever even been inside a bar before. “You don’t like it here?” I asked.

  “It’s just highly unorthodox. I’m a little out of my element,” she admitted.

  A little? Hell, it was obvious she was way out of her element.

  “You’re a very beautiful but complicated woman, Katrina Delaney,” I said while watching for her reaction. A faint smile formed on her face, and her cheeks turned a warm pink.

  “I’m here to work,” she murmured, not overly convincing to me or herself, I presumed.

  “You can still have fun. What’s the point of work if you don’t enjoy it?” She seemed to loosen up a bit. “I won’t tell,” I insisted.

  Her eyes narrowed as she turned to look at me, and her lips lifted into a crooked smile. Wow, was she calling me out?

  I held out my hands. “What, you don’t believe me?”

  “I’ve learned most baseball players are liars,” she said calmly.

  “Not all. What about your dad?” I asked with a smile.

  Sadness washed over her face for a second. She quickly smiled, removing any trace of dismay from her expression, but I saw it. It was there. What was that about?

  “You’re right. Dad is amazing,” she declared.

  “Well?” I asked, extending my hand to hers.

  She shook her head. Damn, this girl was tough. I loved it.

  “You’re no angel,” she said with a hint of sarcasm.

  “Nope. I’m a Beast. What does that have to do with a dance?” I laughed.

  She made me nervous. Something about h
er made me want to try harder to be good. I wanted her to see I was a good man, not a cocky baseball player, the daredevil that the tabloids portrayed, but a good man.

  “I know about you and Whitney.”

  I leaned back in my seat, stared into her eyes, searching for whatever she had floating around in her mind. What did she think?

  “Calvin and Whitney weren’t together when I dated her. And, in case you’ve forgotten, Calvin was the jerk in that scenario, not me.”

  The jukebox changed pace, playing “Promise” by Ciara. Her face softened, her body relaxed as the tune played in the background.

  “You know I was offered a million dollars for that story. I didn’t take it. I don’t kiss and tell,” I insisted and extended my hand once more. Her eyes lingered on my offered hand for a moment before finally reaching out to accept. “You’re safe with me.”

  I led her to the dance floor without her protesting. Her body was so tense, so frigid it sent chills to my spine. Her scent was sweet, a vanilla mixture with what I thought could be lavender. My dick swelled even with the chilliness she was sending my direction. I spun her around, dipped her back and there it was, that smile. That beautiful smile.

  When I pulled her back into my arms, her body had relaxed, her ice melting away like I’d just dipped her in lava. I wondered when she’d had fun last, or if she ever truly had before.

  “I have to go. It’s getting late,” she said sweetly as she pulled away from me. She walked back to the bar, gathered her things, and gripped her phone.

  “Is your car outside?” I asked.

  She shook her head. “The driver is off duty until morning.”

  “Let me call you cab and escort you back.” My offer was genuine, even though I wouldn’t complain if more were to come of it.

  Her tongue slowly slid across her lips and her eyes dropped to my mouth. I wanted to lean in and kiss her right there. I knew she wanted it too. “No, thank you. I’ll catch a cab.”

  My jeans felt uncomfortable as I watched her walk out of the door. I really wished I’d worn the looser ones. None of the guys seemed to notice the sexual tension brewing between us as I stepped back into reality.

  She was gone. I didn’t want to drink with the guys. I didn’t want to wait any longer. I knew she wanted me. It was obvious the way she looked at me. No, I wasn’t staying here and wondering anymore. I was going after her. Maybe if I rushed, I could catch her in the lobby before she made it to her room. For what I didn’t know, but I had to find out.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Katrina

  My body ached as I slid into the backseat of the cab. I was there to observe, to make sure the guys didn’t get into any trouble. I wasn’t there for my own personal pleasures. “No fraternizing with the players,” Lana had said, and her words stuck in my mind.

  Still, my body had been awakened. Todd was smooth, seductive, and even though he came on strong, it still felt gentle. I knew I hadn’t done a very good job hiding my attraction to him. Hell, I was certain I hadn’t hidden it at all.

  “Stop here, please,” I told the driver, motioning to a video store I’d seen on the way to the bar earlier.

  The car pulled into the dimly-lit parking lot, and before the driver could get out to open my door, I was already outside. “I’ll call when I’m finished.”

  I looked around the empty streets and then into the store. A cab drove by, but the store appeared to be empty. Perfect. I knew this wasn’t just an ordinary video store, the three bright red neon X’s told me that.

  My body tingled all over, my pussy swelling between my legs. I needed relief from the sexual tension Todd had created. His cologne still lingered on me from where he'd held me so close. Damn, I wanted to kiss him. Why didn’t I kiss him?

  The door alerted the attendant of my entry, and I tensed, made quick eye contact, then scampered to the back of the store. The wall was lined with packages containing a variety of different toys. Cocks molded in all different shapes and sizes. My mind wandered to Todd, wondering which one was the closest match to what he held between his legs. His tightened jeans on the airplane had made it clear he was packing something larger than average. My fingers ran across the packages, stopping on one named "Mega Meat" and lingered there for a moment. It was pink, large, and had thick veins molded into the shaft. I couldn’t believe how realistic it was, and after wrapping my hand around the sample displayed near the package, I couldn’t believe how realistic it felt.

  “May I suggest a more natural feeling one?” The voice startled me, and I nearly jumped out of my skin, quickly turning to find Todd standing there with a smirk on his face.

  Oh God!

  I tried to cover my face from embarrassment, but the large dildo I held in my hand nearly poked me in the eye.

  I couldn’t speak. I was frozen in my spot, curious as to why he was here, how he knew I was here, and what in the hell I was going to do now. What do you say to someone after you almost jab your eye out with a large rubber dick?

  He smiled. His demeanor seemed calm. Amused, but calm. He took the dildo from my hand and placed it carefully back on the shelf. I wanted to run from the store, from Todd, from my new job. This wasn’t professional at all. How could I ever look him in the eye after this?

  His hand clasped around my arm gently, and he tugged me toward the next row. “I believe that masturbation for women should be more of a sensual tease.”

  Please God, send lightening through this roof and just kill me now.

  “This is one of my favorite toys,” he continued, picking up what looked like a prickly ball. “You roll this all over your body. The tiny nubs stimulate your nerve endings. You’d be surprised how many nonsexual parts of your body are erogenous zones.”

  Please show me, I wanted to scream, to beg. Instead, I pressed my thighs together for some much needed relief.

  “Handcuffs?” he asked, holding a pair of pink furry cuffs in his hand.

  I was mortified, but… something else. Excited? Desperate?

  “Okay, we’ll keep them for me to play with.” He grinned, and I wanted to sink my tongue into his dimple.

  He took a step closer to me, his lips touching my ear. “I think masturbation is much more fun with someone helping.”

  I laughed. Or maybe it was a sob. Or maybe a desperate plea. Whatever it was, it was involuntary, my nerves on the brink of near collapse.

  Todd Morris was holding a vibrator, one I’d have to admit I was curious to play with, a pair of handcuffs, and talking about helping me masturbate. I was pretty certain this was what Lana had told me not to do while here.

  His smile was warm, but his eyes remained hungry as they penetrated into my soul. “I was just looking for a simple toy,” I whispered, hoping to defuse this steamy situation.

  “A simple toy? You were holding onto a donkey dick when I arrived.” Todd moved down the aisle, tugging my hand in his as he walked.

  “It’s a good thing I got here when I did. You may have been ruined for all men after a night with Mega Meat.” His laughter somehow calmed me. He was right. The dildo was big, too big.

  “I had the perfect one at home,” I said, shocked that I was lightening up around him, especially in this store. He made it easy.

  “It’s not about penetration. It’s about the anticipation of penetration,” he said softly. Oh God!

  My panties were sticking to my delicate skin. Every step I took created a friction against my swollen flesh that brought me closer and closer to orgasm.

  “Why didn’t you bring your perfect toy?” he asked, looking genuinely interested.

  I giggled, then clamped my mouth shut to stop the silly noise. “Fear of airport security.”

  His eyes widened, his lips curled into a delicious smile, and he shook his head gently as I could only imagine he played the scenario of my bags being searched at the airport in his head.

  “Lube?” he asked, lifting a tube of strawberry-flavored oil from the shelf.

  I shook my
head.

  “I’m sure you taste better,” he teased, but his voice was a low growl.

  The thought of Todd’s tongue between my legs sent electricity through my veins. My breathing became shallow and winded as my body tensed with sexual excitement. I needed to get out of here, away from him. He was trouble. I'd known that from the start.

  What are you doing, Katrina?

  “This would look amazing on you.” Todd picked up a silky blue piece of lingerie. White lace trimmed the skimpy outfit. Snaps at the crotch provided easy access.

  “I love the snaps,” he pointed out.

  I did too.

  “You need to relax. You were having so much fun at the bar,” he said, curling a finger around a curl that had escaped my bun.

  “I’m relaxed,” I lied, then blew out the breath I’d been holding.

  His eyes penetrated mine. I couldn’t help but smile, then those damned giggles escaped my throat. I was relaxed, sort of. I was having fun.

  “We’ll take these.” Todd handed the lingerie, the handcuffs, and the prickly vibrating ball to the clerk. He pulled out his wallet, paid for the items, and pointed to the back room. “What’s back there?”

  “Private. Members only,” the clerk said with a thick accent.

  “How much to become a member?” Todd asked.

  “Fifty dollars. One year.”

  Todd didn’t flinch. He pulled out a hundred-dollar bill and handed it to the clerk. “We’ll check it out.”

  I stood on my tiptoes, trying to see what he was talking about. I saw a sign: The Back Room.

  The clerk pulled two cards from the register, handing them to Todd. “Want to check it out with me?” he asked.

  My eyes had been burning holes into the floor, not wanting to look up and make eye contact with the clerk. I was still embarrassed. I had never been in a place like this before. My sex toys came from a party my friend threw, and were purchased in her private, very luxurious pool house. This was not private at all. I had no idea what was behind those doors marked "Private" or if I truly wanted to find out.

  “Please?” Todd asked, batting his thick eyelashes in my direction.

  Fuck.