to one and quickly removed the foil cage.
“We won the division!” He corked the bottle and shook it violently, spraying champagne everywhere.
Clubhouse assistants handed out swimming goggles to everyone for protection while the champagne sprayed through the air. I grinned while the team ran around getting each other wet. Everyone was hugging and having fun. Even Domingo, although I saw with a smile that he had a bottle of sparkling grape juice since he was still underage.
Suddenly something cold ran down my back. I yelped and jumped away, but Rafael was still holding onto the back of my shirt while pouring champagne all over me.
“Stop it!” I squealed playfully. “You’re getting me all wet!”
“Wouldn’t be the first time!” He grinned behind his goggles.
I quickly looked around. “Someone is going to hear you if you’re not careful.”
“Don’t care. I’m too happy. Natalie, we won the division!”
We hugged and celebrated in the clubhouse with the rest of the team.
Later that night we celebrated at home, too. Darryl pulled out one of our larger toys and warmed up my ass while Rafael made love to my mouth, grabbing hold of my hair and holding me down on his cock until his muscles tightened and he cried out, filling my mouth with his sticky come. Then Darryl spread my legs on the bed and fucked my ass missionary style. The sensation of having my ass filled while I gazed up at Darryl, his tattoos bulging with strength, drove me to an orgasm where I raked my fingernails across his chiseled chest and screamed like I was dying.
After, we all relaxed on the couch and watched SportsCenter. They showed footage of all the teams that clinched today celebrating in their clubhouses, including ours. I leaned forward and squinted but couldn’t see myself in any of the footage.
“There we go,” Darryl said. “The playoffs are set.”
An infographic appeared on the screen. The Rangers, Indians, and Yankees all won their divisions, while the Astros and Red Sox held the two wildcard spots. The Indians had the best record in the league, so they would play whoever came out of the wildcard game. That left the Rangers to play the Yankees.
“I think we match up well against them,” Darryl said. “They have a lot of left-handed pitchers. I crush lefties.”
Rafael scoffed. “Easy for you to say. You don’t have to pitch to Aaron Judge and Giancarlo Stanton.”
“Fucking right I don’t. That’s why I became a first baseman.”
The broadcast switched over to the National League. The Dodgers had clinched their division a week ago, so they weren’t included in the celebratory highlight reel. But they were shown on the schedule matchup, and Joel was one of the players highlighted when they did a Dodgers-specific breakdown of the team. He was a big reason they were so successful.
“At least he went somewhere good,” I said. “Someone in the playoffs.”
“I bet they’re eliminated in the first round,” Rafael mused.
“Against Atlanta? No way,” Darryl replied.
I smirked at them. “Have you seen Acuña lately? He was two homers short of the first 50-50 season in history. My money is on the Braves too.”
“You’re talking out of your ass,” Darryl said.
I leaned over and kissed him. “After what you did to me tonight, I can barely sit down on my ass, let alone talk out of it!”
We laughed and joked about all the things the guys wanted to do to me sexually, trying to ignore that we were heading into the most stressful part of the season.
The post-season.
30
Rafael
I was more nervous than I had ever been in my life.
We had a few days off between the final game of the season and our first game against the Yankees. I tried to treat the days like any other—I threw a bullpen, did some mobility stretches, and focused on what I ate and drank. Preparing my body for the playoffs. Sure, baseball wasn’t the most physically strenuous sport. But I still needed to be in peak condition to throw a baseball ninety-five miles per hour at a target sixty feet and six inches away.
But no amount of relaxing, eating, and fooling around with Natalie could distract me from the fact that I was the game one starter for the ALDS—the American League Division Series. If we won that series, we would move on to the ALCS—American League Championship Series. And after that was the World Series.
I was potentially four or five starts away from pitching in the World Series, and it freaked me the fuck out.
Finally