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The Seduction Game
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Baseball Star Edition
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By: Nicole Jennings
Copyright 2014 Nicole Jennings
Baseball Star Edition
Reconnaissance is a major part of the game and so is availability. Sarah hauled me around California chasing her rock star, and now it’s my turn to drag her around town.
I will not rest until I have woken up next to a Major League Baseball player.
“I still don’t see why we can’t do this in California,” Sarah complains for the fifth time today.
“It’s all about opportunities, I don’t see a way to put myself in front of him any other way, do you?”
“No, not without heaps of luck. You know I’m your wing-girl, I just loath road trips.” She grumbles, slouching down in the passenger seat.
The wind rushes over me in the convertible, whipping my hair around. It makes me feel carefree. I wish I could stand with my arms spread wide, and fly. “It’s a beautiful day, just enjoy it.”
“It’s Arizona, what’s there to enjoy in Arizona?” She asks in mock derision.
“Baseball players?” I suggest.
“Ehh, the other single men on the team are not my type. I’m here strictly in a supportive role this time.”
The drive to Scottsdale was rather nice despite Sarah’s unwillingness to play the game this trip. Scenery along the journey was very romantic, in a dusty, rugged way. Barren mountains loomed in the distance like sand spilled from an hourglass. Appearing as if a slight breeze would scatter them to the wind, but they had withstood the test of time for ages.
This year, my favorite up and coming baseball star was playing at the Spring Training Annual Poker Classic charity event.
Sarah had protested vehemently about going until I told her she would get to wear her designer summer dress she’d just bought.
My MP3 player was on random and we were jamming out to tunes. Although Sarah had insisted on removing her Rock Star’s music, it was still a decent mix.
She’s been acting weird ever since she accomplished her goal with him and I wish she would just tell me why, but every time I broached the subject she brushed it off. My only conclusion, the sex must not have been that good. Poor girl.
“So why him? Why a pitcher?” Sarah asks while a predominantly slow song plays.
“Have you seen the way he pitches? My God, his arms are like Thor’s Hammer. I want to feel the strength of those arms, as I rake my nails down his back.”
She laughs, “It is your work in life that is the ultimate seduction. Or so says Mr. Pablo Picasso, I wonder what Thor’s little hammer is like.”
“I’ll tell you after this weekend.” Confidence is a key component to the seduction of powerful men. Even if your insides are tied in knots, you have to appear collected. It’s good all-around practice to exude confidence anyway.
“I still can’t believe you’re trying to do this all in one weekend.”
“Well I have two shots, the pre-season baseball game, and the tournament. If the baseball game doesn’t give me the opportunity, all I have to do is advance far enough at the poker game to get to a round at his table. I think I can manage that,” I’m a decent poker player. Probably not good enough to win, but it’s for charity, and it’d be fun.
“You kick my ass,”
“You have a terrible poker face,” I reminded her.
“I hope his poke her face is better.” She waggles her eyebrows at me.
I laugh at the ridiculousness of her joke. “I’m sure it will be, have you seen his concentration stare when he’s pitching? It turns me on just thinking about it. His eyes are so intense; I can just imagine staring into those eyes, begging for him to toss me around. I hope he’s rough. I like it rough.”
Sarah rolls her eyes at me. “Yeah we all know, make him be rough. Oh, I love this song,” she turns up the music and begins to sing at the top of her lungs, leaving me to revel in images of his stare. I hope I don’t crash the car before we get there.
After we’ve checked into the hotel, the same one the poker charity event will be held at tomorrow night, we get ready for the game. I slip into some tight jeans and a bright blue jersey of a retired player, left open with a tank top underneath.
We purchase tickets to the lower deck close to the ball pen.
Close enough for me to watch as my target pitcher warms up. His forearms are ropey with muscles that bulge every time he lets the ball fly and pivots on his feet. I’m close enough to hear him grunt when he lets it go, and I inhale sharply. He’s kept in shape during the off season, that’s for sure. In fact I’m pretty sure he’s bulked up even more.
Last year was his debut year in the Major Leagues and he was phenomenal, winning rookie of the year. He caught my eye when he started closing for the team, and winning games.
Sarah laughs and shouts encouragement for the guy who’s currently up to bat.
My pitcher looks up and smiles at me, in response I purse my lips and nod at him. “Well played, Sarah.” I say in a hushed tone.
“Did you eye fuck him?” She gives me a sly, sideways smile, never taking her eyes off of the field. “Go, go. Yes a double, you rock!” she shouts encouragement to the batter and pounds on the railing.
***
“Go get ‘em!” I hear someone shout over the dull roar of the crowd, when I step onto the field. I’m second to pitch and I’m feeling good. We are down two to one, but that’s not bad. I’m confident I can bring us back.
The afternoon heat feels good on my face; it intensifies the smell of fresh cut grass in the desert. After testing my footing on the mound, and a quick glance behind me, I focus on the mountaintop in the distance. Test the feel of the smooth ball in my hands and adjust the stitching between my fingers for a curve ball. A quick inhale and I turn and let the ball fly.
“Strike one!” The ump shouts. Good man. Another shriek from the stands makes me glance over.
I recognize the beacon of red hair as my Asian beauty’s friend, and glanced to her right where the exotic beauty sits. Her friend whispers in her ear, her hand rests on the Asian’s leg as she laughs at whatever her friend is saying. If I were that hand, I’d slide up her thigh to the promise land.
My buddy made a signal, but I missed it. Shit, what was that? Shaking my head, he asked for a slider and I agree. I have to get my mind back in the game.
When I wind up, I can feel that my stance is off. The ball slips from my fingers and right into the swinging back. A thwack and it flies over my head and into centerfield.
The raven temptress shakes her head in dissatisfaction causing my brow to furrow. My new goal is to impress her during this game.
She was right there in my line of sight, and I had to keep thinking about my mom to keep from getting a boner. Not even concentrating on the baseball in my hand helped. The whole time, I’d try not to look but her firecracker of a friend kept shouting, embarrassing her, and drawing my attention their way. She was so cute when her face flushed from embarrassment. Damn.
I gave up two runs in three innings before my manager called me out. Pathetic show, and when I walked off the field defeated, my girl was gone.
Five to one was the final score, what a fucking atrocity of a game, I should’ve been so much better. I couldn’t help it though. When I looked up into the stands and saw that exotic Asian beauty, I lost all concentration.
The off-season makes you complacent to a normal everyday life, and now that I’ve been stuck training for the past month, with nothing but a house full of guys, I was horny.
“Don’t look so
down, it’s the pre-season, and everyone has their off days.” My buddy, John, slaps me on the back. He’s a damn good first baseman, with an even better batting average.
“I just need to get out and unwind, let’s go get a drink.” Maybe my mystery girl with raven hair will be out.
“No can do man, you know I’m in the program.”
“Fine,” I grumble as Jose approaches. “Jose! Let’s go for a defeat drink,”
“I don’t know man, you were playing like you’re already drunk, you sure you need one?” he teases. Great, rub a little salt in the wound.
***
The game is a bit of a disappointment. Our team loses and is in no mood to greet fans, which is a disappointment to me since we’ve placed ourselves next to a family with young boys. Hoping my Baseball Star would come out and sign autographs for them.
“There is always tomorrow,” Sarah encourages. “Stop sulking, it took me two shows to get the Rock Star remember?”
“I know, but he was in such a sour mood when he left. What if he’s still in a bad mood tomorrow?” The pulse pounds in my veins just thinking about him. When he walked off the field his square jaw was set firm and his eyebrows furrowed so far you could barely make out his caramel colored eyes.
“Then you change his mood,”
“Changing his mood might not be the easiest thing to do.” He even kicked the trashcan on his way out, sending the contents flying across the dugout. I’m not going to lie; it made my heart stutter in excitement to see the passion he had. I hope it transfers into the bedroom.
For the time being, I needed to relax and get my head into the poker game tomorrow. If I was sloppy, or distracted, I’d never get past the first round.
We sit around by the pool the following day soaking in the midday sun until I retire to my room to get ready, leaving Sarah by the pool. If my skin got burnt, it’d ruin any chance of an enjoyable night. Sarah eventually comes back to the room to get ready for the night, then we head for the event.
Inside, the hotel lobby is filled with onlookers and players in the tournament. A section of the ball room is roped off for the poker tables. I lead Sarah to the registration table and get my assignment.
Excitement builds in my core, but I have to keep an eye out for my Baseball star. “Have you seen him?” I ask as I chew on my manicured fingernails.
“No, I don’t think any of them are here yet, but stop that.” She pulls my hand from my face. “There’s time to relax and scope out my poker competition, that’s good, go do it. I’ll keep an eye out.”
I sit at the designated table and receive my buy in chips while Sarah goes to the bar to grab us some drinks.
Across the room, I spot him when he enters with two very gorgeous, blonde, toned, women at his side. My heart sinks. I hadn’t anticipated he’d have someone or two someone’s with him, but that’s always a possibility.
“What’s wrong?” Sarah asks when she returns with drinks in hand.
“He’s with someone,” I nod in his direction and she follows my line of sight.
“Oh please? Are you worried about the woman with fake breasts, hair, and tan?”
“Yes, or the other one, she looks all natural. He came in with both of them. It’s over, let’s just play a little poker and have a good weekend.”
“Why are you so down on yourself? Stop it, all you know is he came in with them. They look like promo models to me.”
“Yeah but the one girl’s arms are more tone than anything on my body!” I cry out, louder than necessary and heads turn in my direction. Great, now he’ll think I’m checking out the girls on his arm, not him.
“Fun trumps bimbo any day, just have fun and nature will do the rest.” She disappears into the crowd of spectators leaving me to my own defenses.
My Baseball Star signs a few autographs as he makes his way over to the competitor’s table.
Luck is on my side tonight and I move onto the next round quickly, to the big boys table where my Baseball Star sits.
“Hello gentlemen,” I greet them when I sit down, “Is everyone ready to play?”
“Welcome to the table, you are . . .?” My Baseball Star greets me with a side smile and a questioning head tilt.
“Thank you, and it’s Amy”
As the game progresses, I quickly find out that Lady Luck has left my side, I’m bleeding chips fast. It seems like my Baseball Star refuses to let me bluff. He keeps raising the stakes on me, but at least he’s also losing several hands.
On my final hand, I go all in on a pair of tens, queen high. Unfortunately, my Baseball Star has the other three queens, and he knocks me right out of the game.
“Well played, sir,” I shake his hand as I leave the table. “Next time, you’re mine.”
His hands envelopes mine, and I feel a current run through my body causing the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. Our hands stay clasped together.
“It was great watching you squirm, but I’m sorry I took all your money.” My Baseball Star smirks. For some reason I feel the need to wink at him before I walk away, swaying my hips.
“I feel so stupid,” I cry as the false bravado slips away when I reach the bar where Sarah is standing.
“Why?”
“I winked at him,” I drop my head into my hands, mortified.
“I don’t think that was a bad move, he watched you leave. He’s also not played that well since you sat down at his table.” She laughs.
“He took my chips,”
“Only because you’re smitten with him,”
“Why do we put ourselves through this?” I ask through muffled hands.
“It’s the thrill of the chase; losing control every so often is exhilarating.”
“I don’t think I like it. Can we go back to our college days of seducing trust fund guys, and Ph.D. candidates? Those were so much easier,” I complain.
Sarah does not respond, she simply gazes at me with those jade eyes, one eyebrow raised, and then slides her drink in my direction.
“Fine,” I concede. “This is somehow more fun.”
“What’s more fun?” A baritone voice asks from behind me. I turn to see who has interrupted our private conversation, my eyes glance up and my lungs cease to work. Standing in front of me, in a light blue button down shirt and dark jeans is my gorgeous baseball star.
Everything about this man reminds me of a work of carved stone, except maybe his eyes. They are a soft brown, lightly dusted with flecks of gold. I must think of something to say here.
“That is a woman’s secret,” Sarah helps and then casually turns toward the bar.
“Alright then, be mysterious, but can I buy you a drink? I believe I at least owe you that for booting you out of the game so quickly.”
“I’ve had plenty already, but thank you. You could give us your company instead, if you’d like.” I don’t want to get drunk, I need my wits. Two during the game, and the last of Sarah’s drink is enough for me.
“I’d love to, I have a few interviews I need to do, but until then I’m all yours.” He leans in, and in a hushed voice continues, “Anyway you want.”
I’m pretty sure my heart skips a beat, but I work to control my outward calm demeanor. “Well that’s rather forward of you.” My lips purse in a playful grin.
“I’m sorry, you’re just so beautiful,” his fingertips touch my hip and he moves closer, licking his lips. My body tenses in anticipation.
“I liked it.” I murmur.
He smiles, exposing a set of bright white teeth. “Hey, you look familiar, were you at the game yesterday?”
“We were,” My heart plummets, I thought he was going to kiss me, then he changes the subject.
“I’m sorry you had to see that.” His head lowers in mock shame. Just then, a reporter impatient for her story approaches and greets my Baseball Star.
Attempt number two foiled. I’m pretty sure my face is as red as my dress, desire mixes with anger over the interruption, and I don’t know
what to do. So I just stand there while the intruder begins her interview.
“So you placed third tonight, what does that mean for your charity?”
“Well, the Children’s Literacy Program will get a small donation. I wish I could have done more, and I will be matching the events contribution, but my buddy A-Rod over there is a true supporter, coming out to support his cause even though he’s suspended.”
The reporter’s head snaps around, eager for a front-page story and my Baseball Star seizes the moment. His fingers entwine with mine and he spins on his heels dashing through an employee’s only door.
My feet have to work double time to keep up with his hurried pace. “A-Rod’s not here,” I say giggling as we rush through the hall.
“I know, but she doesn’t,” he winks at me.
It feels like we’re in a James Bond movie, any moment the evil reporter is going to burst through one of the side doors and hold a little field recorder to his head, demanding an interview.
I don’t ask where his place was because I didn’t care. All that matters right now is getting out of this strapless bra and seeing if his hands can work just as much magic on me, as he does with the baseball.
One of the requirements of a perspective target is that they have to be someone who is good with their hands. It’s been a fairly successful rule in weeding out the good from the bad so far.
“My manager is going to be so mad. I promised him I’d do a few interviews tonight, but screw him.” He places a gentle kiss on my hand and my heart skips a beat.
Even his lips look hard and angular, they’re soft on my hand.
I’m stopped dead in my tracks in front of a large silver truck and my Baseball Star opens the door for me. Great, I get to clamor up into this, in a short dress? Men.
The foot rail comes about midway to my calf, so I’m forced to try ever so gracefully to hop into the cab of the truck without being indecent. My Baseball Star, being the gentleman he is, offers his hand to help me up and I graciously accept.
When I’m situated, he runs his hand over the exposed skin on my thigh and I gasp. He gazes up at me, and a wide grin spreads across his face and he raises his eyebrows and wiggles them at me before moving around to the driver’s side and climbing in.
Baseball Star Edition (The Seduction Game, #2) Page 1