Read Fastball Online

Authors: V. K. Sykes

Tags: #Romance, #sports romance, #sports romance baseball, #baseball romance, #baseball hero, #athlete hero

Fastball (22 page)

Maddie stirred restlessly. “Hurry up, Jake.
God, I want you in me now!”

Stifling a shaky laugh, Jake unrolled the
condom, then rubbed his fingers over her clit one more time. She
was totally wet and ready, so he surged into her with a powerful
thrust of his hips. Maddie cried out beneath him, but he knew it
was a cry of pure pleasure, not discomfort.

He continued to thrust, stroke upon stroke,
his cock filling her completely. Maddie pushed her bottom against
him, moving her hips to match his rhythm. She murmured sweet
encouragement in a low, breathy voice, and every word made him
wilder still. Pleasure and need built in an overwhelming
crescendo.

Just as he thought he couldn’t hold back a
second longer, Maddie bucked her hips and cried out in a long,
joyous wail. Jake gave in to the now-unstoppable urge and exploded
inside her. He held tightly onto her hips, increasing the contact
as she moaned softly beneath him. Then he slowly collapsed on top
of her slim, damp body, stunned by the intensity of their shared
climax.

They lay in a tangled heap for several
minutes, then Maddie slipped out from under him and walked
unsteadily to the kitchen, returning with a large bottle of San
Pellegrino and two glasses. Jake gratefully took the drink she
poured for him and drained the tumbler in one long swallow.

“Hell, that was hard work.” Jake hauled
himself onto the sofa and indulged in a satisfied, lazy stretch.
“But my dad always says hard work is good for you. He’s sure right
about that.”

Maddie looked at him with a pained expression
on her still-flushed face. “Sometimes you are so corny, Jake
Miller. But I love you that way.”

Jake suddenly didn’t feel so relaxed. “Did I
just hear you say you love me?” he blurted.

Maddie blinked and her lips parted in a
surprised oval, as if her own words had caught her unawares. “Um, I
didn’t exactly mean to say that. I was saying I love it when you’re
corny.” She looked down at her glass, as if embarrassed, but then
sat on the couch, carefully apart from him. “But now that you’ve
asked, the answer is a qualified yes—I think I
am
falling in
love with you, which actually scares me to death. I don’t know how
this is going to end up for us, but I promised myself that I would
always be truthful with you. No lies and no holding back.” She
finished with a hesitant, sweetly vulnerable smile.

He felt an inconvenient stab of guilt as he
thought about the stuff he was holding back from her, but he
managed to shove it to the back of his mind. Robbie’s problems
didn’t have anything to do with their relationship, anyway. And
right now, Jake wanted to enjoy the hell out of what she had just
revealed.

Reaching across the gap between them, he slid
her across the sofa and scooped her up into his lap. She let out a
nervous giggle as he kissed her forehead, her nose, her chin and
then her lips. He finally whispered in her ear. “I feel the same
way, baby. And don’t worry, because we’ll work it out somehow. I
know we will.”

CHAPTER
FOURTEEN

 

 

Jake returned home well after midnight, but
Robbie’s problems kept him from falling asleep. He knew only too
well how mercurial his friend could be, as well as stubborn and
even self-destructive. This wouldn’t be the first time Jake had to
pull him out of a jam, but it was a bigger mess than he’d ever had
to confront before. There was too much riding on it for him to
fail, including the team’s reputation. If Robbie’s problems went
public, they could trash the best season the Patriots were having
in a long time.

After a restless night spent tossing and
turning, he decided to approach Robbie during the on-field workout.
They could be relatively private there, but the presence of the
other players and staff would, hopefully, keep Robbie from wigging
out.

As he pulled on his uniform in the locker
room, Jake kept an eye on Robbie, whose stall was on the other side
of the room. He could see right away that his friend was in rough
shape. Instead of joking with the other guys as usual, he was
dressing quietly with his head down. When another player asked him
why he looked in the dumps, Robbie waved him off with an obviously
forced laugh. With a sick feeling in his stomach, Jake figured
Robbie was one short step away from disaster.

On the field, after the players finished
their stretches and sprints, he ambled over to where Robbie was
standing near third base. Jake smiled and clapped him on the
shoulder. “How are ya, little buddy? You’re looking a little
grim.”

Robbie paled under his tan, his gaze looking
haunted. Jake knew right away there would be no quick repartee
between friends today. “I’m okay,” he answered evasively. “I just
feel a little crappy, that’s all. Maybe I’m coming down with
something.”

Nope. That bullshit wasn’t going to work.
“Rob, we need to talk. Can we get together tonight after the
game?”

Robbie frowned and took a step back. “Uh, I
don’t think so. Sorry, Jake, I’m going to be tied up.” His gaze
darted nervously off to the side.

“Well, you’ll have to get yourself untied,”
Jake replied in a voice that left no room for argument. “Because
I’m not taking no for an answer. We have to talk, and you know
it.”

Robbie’s face turned crimson. “What’s so
goddamn important that you have to get on my case when I tell you
I’m busy!” he snarled, his voice rising.

Glancing at the other players, who were now
watching them with curiosity, Jake gave Robbie’s shoulder a warning
squeeze. “Just meet me after the game and we’ll talk. I’m on your
side, Rob. Don’t ever forget that. But I’m not going to let this
go, so get used to it.” Jake turned and walked away. Behind him, he
heard Robbie curse loudly and kick a spray of dirt.

 

* * *

 

Maddie threaded her way through the cheerful
chaos of the press box, exchanging quick greetings with the other
reporters. As she took her regular seat, she automatically began
scanning the field for Jake. She loved watching him play, zeroing
in not just on his fabulous body, but also on the skills that were
a testament to his strength and control. Okay, maybe she
was
zeroing in on his body first, but no one could blame her for that.
Jake was a sex god
and
a sensitive lover, and she was still
amazed by the way her body reacted with eager anticipation at the
sight of him. She didn’t know whether it was a tingle, an ache, or
a fire—or some combination of all three—but she knew she’d never
felt anything remotely like it. Add in his intelligence and his
genuinely decent nature, and the man was turning her world upside
down. Sometimes she thought she’d simply burst with the joy of
it.

Last night had been a true turning point in
their relationship, since they had finally acknowledged that what
was happening between them was more than a casual affair. Admitting
that she was falling in love with him had initially scared the crap
out of her, but Jake had come right along with her. Now, a future
together was no longer a theory. They had risen to the level of
genuine emotional commitment. She was overwhelmed with happiness
but, at the same time, huge obstacles remained to be overcome and
Maddie couldn’t help but worry.

Of course, worry
was
her middle name,
but challenges were part of life, as her mother used to say.
Nothing came without sacrifice and some pain, most especially love.
Mom had always said love was worth the risk, and Maddie figured it
was her turn to learn that lesson once and for all. With Jake, she
thought she could do just that.

The game was about to start, so she forced
herself to stop mooning over Jake and focus on work. As she booted
up her computer, the Patriots starting nine raced out onto the
field. Jake took his position in right field, and Nate jogged to
the mound, grabbed the rosin bag and pawed a trench in front of the
rubber to give him better traction when he released the ball. While
Maddie found it hard to tear her eyes away from Jake, she had to
admit Nate was an incredibly imposing presence on the field. Nate’s
and Jake’s combined skills and leadership were guiding the Patriots
to one of their best seasons in years. Maddie couldn’t count the
ways she was lucky to be part of it, not only in her personal life
but in her professional life, too.

As she took a closer look at Jake through her
binoculars, she was surprised to see him frowning, his jaw set in a
grim line. It wasn’t his usual game face. She’d seen him play often
enough now to know how he held himself, how he moved, how he talked
chatter to his teammates. Today he looked on edge and jittery, and
she couldn’t help wondering if his mood had something to do with
the meeting he’d had yesterday with Nate. He’d told her it was no
big deal, but it had been important enough to cancel their trip to
the countryside that he’d been looking forward to as much as she
had been.

Her instincts began to stir. Something was
wrong with Jake, and it was something she didn’t think she could
ignore.

 

* * *

 

Baseball was all about focus, Jake grimly
reminded himself. Focusing for nine long innings was one of the
toughest things to do—a lot tougher than most people gave players
credit for. Even if life off the field was a complete fucking mess,
a ballplayer had no choice but to block all that out if he wanted
to stay in the lineup. Jake had been playing pro ball for twelve
years, and he still found that hard to do.

Tonight, he was dogged by worries about
Robbie and what he was going to say to him after the game. The fact
that his friend was playing tonight, crouching in the shortstop’s
position on the left side of the infield, made it even harder for
Jake to put the coming confrontation out of his mind.

From the very first inning, Robbie had been
making a hash of things. After Nate retired the first two Braves’
hitters on strikeouts, their right fielder hit a hard grounder in
Robbie’s direction. Robbie moved to his left, fielding the ball
cleanly, and Cal Jones, the first baseman, moved into position to
take an easy throw from him for the out. As Jones stretched to
extend his glove toward the incoming ball, Jake had watched in
dismay as Robbie’s rising throw passed four feet over Jones’s head,
the ball ending up in the stands. Robbie’s careless error led
directly to the first run of the game—an unearned one—as the
Braves’ player jogged down to second then scored on the next play
when the cleanup hitter stroked a single to right.

In the fifth inning, Robbie booted a grounder
for his second error. By then, Jack Ault had seen enough, and at
the end of the inning benched Robbie for the rest of the night.
Robbie erupted like a geyser, kicking his glove across the dugout
and hammering his fist into the water cooler, knocking it over. In
a second, Ault was practically standing on Robbie’s toes, yelling
full in his face as Jake and the other players looked away.

Fuck.
He knew that Robbie would now be
in a totally lousy mood for their talk, and wasn’t that just
special? Jake sat as far away from Robbie in the dugout as he
could, hoping the dumbass would cool down by the time the game was
over.

Mercifully, the last four innings passed
quickly, as Nate mowed down hitters while the Braves’ starter did
the same thing to the Patriots. The Patriots got to the Braves’
reliever in the bottom of the ninth, though, and scratched out a
hard-earned run for a 2-1 victory. The players celebrated the win
with high fives on the field, as always, but Robbie skipped it and
headed directly into the clubhouse.

When Jake pushed through the clubhouse door a
couple of minutes later, he could see Robbie sitting in front of
his locker stall, head hung, staring down at the floor. He wasn’t
entirely surprised that the guy continued to sit there,
fully-dressed, not moving. Jake knew Robbie had two very different
ways of dealing with the aftermath of a frustrating game. One was
to rage around the clubhouse, punching anything inanimate and
hurling a steady string of F-bombs. The other was to withdraw into
a silent shell, filling the whole room with his gloomy negative
energy. Today, it was clear he’d picked the latter mode. Maybe he’d
already done enough damage in the dugout to fill his rage quota for
the day.

Jake took his time showering and getting
dressed, not wanting to leave ahead of Robbie. He slowly toweled
himself off, dried and brushed his hair, and put his street clothes
back on. Robbie was
still
sitting in front of his locker,
obviously hoping Jake would get tired of waiting and leave.

Eventually, only Robbie, Jake, and the
equipment manager and his assistant remained. When Robbie continued
to mope in front of his locker, head down, Jake’s patience finally
ran out and he stalked over to him. “Come on, Rob. I told you I
wanted to talk after the game. Let’s go.”

“Screw that.” Robbie shot back with a scowl.
“Leave me alone. I mean it, Jake. Go bug somebody else.”

“Sorry, pal, you’re coming with me.” Jake
grabbed him by the shoulders, easily pulled him to his feet and
shoved him toward the door. That drew alarmed looks from the
equipment guys, but Jake waved them off with a grin, as if he and
Rob were just horsing around. Holding firmly onto Robbie’s
shoulder, Jake marched his unhappy friend down the long passageway
that led to the lot where the players parked their vehicles. But
well before they reached the end of the corridor, Jake stopped and
turned Robbie around to face him.

“We might as well talk here, my friend.
There’s nobody around now, and nobody can see us if they’re still
hanging around the parking lot. So, this can be a completely
private chat.”

Robbie stayed silent, staring sullenly at the
ground. His surly attitude was starting to piss Jake off. “I know
you’re in trouble,” Jake bit out between clenched teeth, trying to
keep his temper. “Don’t bother trying to deny it. And I know
why.”

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