all got in the way of the job. I’ve had exactly three lovers in my twenty-eight years, and they’ve all been predictable and fine. Fine is definitely not the word you want to use when talking about sex, but I don’t know how else to describe it.
“Orgasms should always be a central focus of life. At least tell me you have a good vibrator at home, and then let’s devise a plan to get you a real flesh and blood man,” she whines.
“I do have … a friend in my nightstand.” I stick my tongue out at her.
I’m not a prude, by any means, I’ve never been afraid of sex talk or the raunchy things Whitney or my other female cousins would tell me they did before kids. I simply just had no time for it, and if a guy wasn’t serious in pursuing me, I couldn’t be bothered. I’ve never met anyone who really got my heart, or my libido for that matter, pumping.
Well, except …
“Can’t you just hit it and quit it with one of your hot players? I mean, take one down to a training room, or better yet, call them into your office. Show them who’s boss. There are some sexy single guys on the squad these days, if I do remember correctly.”
She wasn’t wrong, and it was a damn shame that there was only one standing out in my brain right now.
Hayes Swindell is too gorgeous for his own good, and that brooding scowl he’s always giving me only adds to the forbidden appeal of it. I’ve had a few daydreams about exactly what a man like that could do with his hands, though I’ve tried to shut the thoughts out. After all, he was right when I bumped into him outside the Buzz the other day; not only would it be unprofessional for us to even maintain a friendship, but fantasizing about sex with one of my players is off-limits. Seriously, even the thought of having thoughts is wrong.
Plus, even though we’ve semi-cleared the air about him loathing my family, he still doesn’t want to be here. I can feel it every time I watch him step up to the plate. He’s playing on autopilot, and that might be good enough for someone with Hayes’ talent. But the reason I loved watching him throughout the years is because of the passion behind his game, and now I find none of that.
I considered letting him go, trading him back to Los Angeles, where he clearly wants to be. But that would look terrible for the Pistons, and even on his worst day, Hayes plays better than seventy-five percent of our team.
“Yeah, because that would end really well for the daughter of the former disgraced general manager if it ever got out.” I roll my eyes, blowing off her ludicrous suggestion.
That didn’t stop the tingle that went down my spine when I thought about those wavy, dirty blond locks hanging to a set of very brawny shoulders.
“Well, fine. Guess you’ll have to find pleasure in Parmesan fries for now.”
“Who ever said fries weren’t just as good as sex?” I chuckle.
Whit cocks her head to the side. “Hm, you might have a point.”
“Now, did you see the latest episode of Below Deck?” I ask.
My cousin launches into a tirade about her least favorite crew member, and I’m off the hook.
At least for now, I can enjoy my night out with good food, company, and a couple too many dirty martinis. Seeing as they would be the only dirty things in my life for right now.
8
Hayes
The fast pitch machine fires off ball after ball, the hard leather coming at my body and brain somewhere around ninety miles an hour.
My arms are sore, tingling with overuse, but I want a couple more good swings before I call it a day. We’re scheduled for a night game at home, and it’s only noon, so I’ll have a few hours’ rest before I truly have to perform. But with my batting average under three hundred, my drive for perfection and statistics has ratcheted up to the next level.
I’ve been in this cage for a week now, every single day, working on stance and adjusting my hips. Putting my left toe over the plate instead of on the corner. Shifting my fingers slightly higher. Anything to increase the odds of hitting to get on base, or hitting one out of the park.
The stadium is somewhat empty, with most of the guys already