Pitching to Win (Over the Fence #1) (5 page)

Sure, he didn’t have my cell, but he knew where I lived and could have probably gotten my number from someone. The first thing he’d thought about was sex, not getting to know me. If that wasn’t an indicator of how truly wrong this whole thing was, then I didn’t know what was.

I don’t even know why I’m so hung up on this. It wasn’t like I wanted to date the guy. I knew how dangerous wanting something like that with someone like him was. He was a total charmer who used girls for what he wanted. A total charmer who was the only other guy I’d ever allowed to do such an intimate thing to me. I inhale a sharp breath, trying to calm my frayed nerves.

And suddenly he was looking at me. Great, I’d definitely been staring too long,
again
. Sitting on opposite sides of the fire, flames obscured my view as they climbed higher into the darkening sky, but I can clearly see his eyes, now a shade of cobalt, glaring at me. Damn, he looks pissed. Was he seriously mad because I wouldn’t let him hit it and quit it?

I was like a deer in headlights. I should probably get up, stop this frozen connection we were having, but I’m stuck, powerless to his visual assault. Bringing his gaze straight to my eyes, he looks into my face. And sneers.

His look is so full of judgement and indignation that I actually flinch from the feeling of disgust punching its way through the air towards me. I must have not hidden my shock well, because he ends our eye-contact with a smug tilt of his head, and then pulls a nearby blonde into his lap. She nuzzles her head into his shoulder while thrusting her chest into his face, and he wraps his thick arm around her tiny waist.

I can feel the embarrassment and anger creep into my face, my skin tingling from the shame. I kick myself for being so freaking naive. Well, there was the confirmation. Someone had told him. My reputation had proceeded me, and it was clear Owen was looking for a good-time-gal, and since I wouldn’t give it up, he’d found someone who would.

Screw this. I’d said I was done letting these people dictate how I lived. I wasn’t going through life second-guessing my every action and distrusting all I saw around me. I down the last of my beer and saunter over to the table Kels and Chlo are playing flip cup at.

“Got room for an extra player?” I ask the guy running the table, adding a bit of insinuation to my tone. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Kels’ jaw nearly hit the floor.

“Sure, gorgeous. But there is a little twist to this game. It’s not just regular ole’ flip cup,” He leans in closer, trying his best to get me to what, giggle or squeal? This guy clearly didn’t know who I was.

Or that having never grown my social butterfly wings, I had no idea what the regular ole’ rules to flip cup were. “Before you down your beer and flip, you have to take a shot.” He wiggles his eyebrows at me. While he was cute in a total surfer dude way, he just wasn’t cutting it for me. Damn you, Owen Axel.

Peering around the table, I notice the tiny shot glasses seated next to every red plastic cup. Reaching for the nearest one, I tip my head back and bring the glass to my lips. The acidic burn slowly rolls down my throat, cheap vodka numbing my veins and anger. Yeah, this is exactly what I need. Slamming the glass down, I catch the shock on my friends faces. They look like statues, they’re so mesmerized by my actions.

“Well, if those are the rules I’d say I’m officially winning. Right?”

F
ield Parties are
without a doubt one of my favorite things in the world. I’ve been coming here for years, ever since Tyler Merry, who graduated a year before me, had started throwing them during my freshman year of high school. Sitting out under the stars in the middle of Nowhere, North Carolina, the fire crackling in front of you, a beer in your hand, hot girls running around in those cutoff shorts intended to tease. There was really nothing better.

These nights could clear my mind of the pressure, the fear, the doubts. The wide open spaces gave me room to breathe, actually free myself of the poison I sucked in daily. The tension in my life was constant; How many strikeouts have I recorded? Could I have thrown the ball faster? Should I add an extra weight to pump up my triceps? What scout would be in the stands today? Is dad going to be disappointed that I couldn’t paint the corners?

I didn’t know how many of these nights I had left.

Which is why I was severely pissed that Minka had officially taken it upon herself to be the one-woman night ruining parade.

I hadn’t seen her since she’d thrown me out of her house. The girl totally freaked and then proceeded to trash me and my skills. And I know, from past experience and her breathy moans as she came around my hand, that my skills were very well honed.

I don’t typically go for chicks who can hold their own, it was easier to bag the easy ones, as bad as that sounds.

So it was strange that I was so turned on by the fact that she was smart, and could hand me my ass in any conversation. That fact that she was insanely beautiful was just an added bonus.

I typically went for hot and easy; girls who knew what I was down for. And that was not a girlfriend. Girlfriends brought pressure and expectations, which I had enough of in spades thanks to baseball and my dad.

I knew I’d moved too fast by getting physical with Minka too quick, but then she started throwing around the word “values,” and accusing me of being some dick who brags to his buddies about all the pussy he scores. She doesn’t even know me. When she’d started hauling assumptions in my face like a bratty two-year-old, I’d decided I was done pursuing her. She could have her “morals.”

But that didn’t mean I hadn’t fantasized about her, 24 hours a day, for the past seven days. It was like she’d taken over my brain and was residing there permanently. All I could think about was the way my hands melded to her smooth, velvety skin. The way her chocolatey eyes widened, and that sexy mouth formed an O when I worked my fingers over her hardened clit. The way she writhed beneath me, clawing at my back as if she was physically fighting me for release. My dick was hard just thinking about it, not that it hadn’t immediately raised to full salute when I’d spotted her across the fire.

Shouldn’t my cock be tired of her? My hand was sore from how much attention I’d been giving it the last week. Remembering her sexy little whimpers was all I needed these days to bust in 30 seconds flat, which was sort of embarrassing. Since I’d kissed her, the taste of berries and mint still lingering on my tongue, I’d been obsessed.

Leave it to me to crush hard for the one chick who didn’t want to straddle me from the minute she heard my name was Owen Axel.

Whatever, I’d learned my lesson, I wasn’t going to try to pet the dog that already bitten me,
twice
. Except that nothing, not even this ditzy blonde on my lap basically shoving her nipples in my face, was helping to get my attention off of her.

And I can’t seem to stop my hands from balling into fists as I watch her sling her arms around this fucking surfer dude’s neck. She was drunk, really drunk. And while I was beyond buzzed, I know what it looked like to be desperate drunk. And Minka fell right into that category tonight. She was trying way too hard to make her problems go away by hitting the bottle. I should know, I had been an expert at times.

Surfer bro reaches down to grab a big handful of her ass, and I’d seen enough. Before I know it, I’m up, the blonde tumbling off my lap into the dirt, and my feet carrying me in her direction. I shove the dude away before his hands can do anymore roaming, and then catch a falling Minka who can’t seem to stand on her own.

“Hey what the heck—” she trails off as she sees its me holding her, her bloodshot eyes narrowing. “Get off me, you asshole.” She spits at me, pushing at my chest. I lock my arms securely around her, making sure she can’t break my hold to stumble off.

“Hey bro, let go of her. What’s your problem man?” Surfer bro gets back up and is gesturing at me. He looks like he’s questioning whether to fight for her or not, but is smart enough not to challenge me. I shoot him a hard look that illustrates just how badly I could bash his face in, and his mind is made up. He hurries off, leaving Minka in my arms and her friends staring at me like I’ve just revealed I’m Superman.

“Hey, we are going to go for a little walk, ok? Don’t worry I will keep her safe and return her soon.” I smiled at them, phrasing it as a question but not really meaning it as one.

They both slowly nod at me, and the one with blue streaks running through her hair rolls her eyes, adding, “Its about time. You were only eye-fucking her for the last three hours.”

I let out a snort. So maybe I had been more obvious than I’d thought. “I like your friend.” I say to Minka. “I’m Owen, by the way.”

“Kelsey, and this is Chloe. We know who you are, baseball god. Now, you can take our girl here. Just know you’re on potential puke duty.” She half-jokes as they walk away giggling.

“Ummmm, I’m not invisible. And I’m also not going anywhere with you, asshole. I was having fun with Brad, thanks very much.” She slurs, her speech coming out in more of a tinkly, high tone than usual. But she’s damn adorable. Acting so bossy and cute, it takes all of my restraint not to scoop her up and crush my lips into hers.

But I wasn’t going there with her again. I was only helping out a girl who clearly had gotten herself into a situation she didn’t want to be in.

I could keep telling myself all night that I wasn’t going to continue pursuing this girl, but that didn’t make it true.

She needs to cool down and sober up. I rub my hand through her silky hair, which hangs stick straight tonight, almost to her butt. God, she looks incredible. She fits so well against my side as I guide her away from the noise. Every time I look down at her, my eyeline has the fucking greatest view of her tits framed by that lacy top. It was not doing anything to tame my swelling dick.

Images of her under me flash through my brain. The way she rubbed her soft, slim body into mine. This girl had made me nearly blow in my pants. And she’d definitely gotten me harder than any of the college groupies I’d boned this year. And now I need to think of anything— dead fish, my grandmother— to get this massive boner to go away.

“Seriously, let me go,” she wriggles against me, breaking free for a second before I trip, pulling her back into me and righting us both. Yeah, no. Boner still on high alert.

“Jeez you’re a mean drunk. Both times you’ve tried to blow me off, and apparently I have some duty to catch you whenever you fall.” I say, half-teasing.

“You wouldn’t have to catch me, or hear my smarty-pants self, if you stopped coming around. Or if you weren’t such a jerk.” She grins, looking pleased with herself for that comeback.

“Honey, I hate to break it to you, but your smart mouth really takes a hit when you’re drunk. Sit with me,” I motion to the log at our feet. I’d walked us a good 75 yards from the party.

She frowns, but doesn’t resist when I pull her hand and her body follows. We sit in silence for a few minutes, me just staring up at the stars and reveling in the quiet, feeling 100 times better now that I had Minka’s warm body pressed into my side.

“Why are we out here? If this is some move to get your hands down my panties, I already told you, I’m not having sex with you.” She huffs, the anger in her voice receding a bit, replaced with exhaustion.

“And why would you think this is some kind of ploy to get you to spread your legs for me?” I bite back, not the calmest, or soberest, myself. She doesn’t respond, only looks at me like she wanted to say more, but then turns away to stop herself. Her brown hair floats on the breeze and I catch the scent of lilacs.

“Whatever, you looked like you were having a great time with Pamela Anderson. Why don’t you get back over there, champ!” She shrugs, rubbing her shoulders as if she was cold despite the 80 degree night. I know she’d seen me sneer at her before, and I mentally punched myself for acting like such an idiot.

I just didn’t expect to see her, and my ego had been severely bruised when she’d practically shoved me onto the sidewalk the other day. So, I’d resorted to being an eight-year-old; symbolically hitting the girl I liked on the playground.

“Its not like you were giving me the warm and fuzzies either, sweetheart. Look, I think we got off on the  wrong foot.” She snorts when I utter the words “got off” and the blood in my dick pulsed. God, her sense of humor turns me on.“Yeah I know, I kind of attacked you the other day, but you weren’t exactly saying no. I don’t know why you freaked, but I meant what I said. I would like to talk, get to know you. And I promise I won’t act like a cocky jerk, or at least I’ll try. Its just hard since I’m so good looking and excel at everything that I do…..” I trail off as she half-heartedly punches my shoulder. But she was finally smiling in a non-annoyed, super-adorable drunk way.

“I’m tired,” she yawns sleepily, leaning into my shoulder.

Her closeness surprises me, but I haven’t felt more at home ever in my life than when her skin made contact with mine. This girl was throwing me for a loop. I barely knew her and yet she felt more familiar than when I stood out on my island during a game.

I wrap my arm around her shoulder, nestling her further into my side. My skin tingles where she wrapped her slim arm around my back, and I’m overcome with this quiet sense of contentment. We stay locked like this, on our own island in the middle of the field, until my eyes begin to droop and I surrender my mind to the abyss.

I
t is so freaking bright
, someone needs to turn that light off. And why does it hurt so fucking bad when I move my head? Am I even moving my head?

At first I think I must still be dreaming, but when I crack an eye open, I know that the hangover fairies have taken root inside my skull. I look over the damp, dewy field, wondering why I’m not in the dry, warm tent with my friends. When I begin to blink the haze from my vision, my heart starts racing.

Me, cradled in Owen Axel’s lap as he sleeps propped up against a large log about 100 yards away from where the party had been happening last night. Me, with my head nuzzled into Owen Axel’s neck and hair that smell like musk and evergreen, my hands on his hard chest that is rising steadily with each breath he takes. Me, as Owen Axel’s arms snake around my body for protection. This is what I see when I wake up.

I shift to get a better look at our position. Ah crap, that was a bad move. Because I can most definitely feel a very large, very hard part of his anatomy poking right up into my butt as I sit on top of him. How did we get out here?

Suddenly, our conversation comes flashing back at me, and I bite my lip to keep from smiling at his sweet words.

He wanted to get to know me. And he’d come over to take me for a walk before I’d made a stupid mistake with surfer dude. Not that these were points in his favor, but they were nice gestures. And now they needed to end, before I could let hope seep into my pores.

“Owen, wake up!” I whisper scream in his ear, trying to wake him quickly but quietly. I didn’t need people to notice us out here. The big rock softly snoring under me doesn’t move an inch. I poke his chest, flick his ear, and pry his eyes open like I’d seen little kids do in movies.

I didn’t know how to wake someone up, I’d never been in this situation. So, I do the only thing left
to
do. I reach down between us and squeez the steel rod between his legs. Okay, so maybe that wasn’t the only thing left to do, but it would definitely get his attention. And I also
maybe
want to feel what he’s packing.

“Mmmm, good morning,” he growls, and snuggles me closer while grinding his hips into my backside.

“No, get up. This isn’t some booty call. We have to get out of here.” I urge, trying to rouse him from his sleepy state.

“Its technically not a booty call if its in the morning, but I won’t fight semantics with you. No more talking,” he nuzzles his face into my neck and begins to lick and bite the sensitive skin under my ear.

Ahhh, that feels insanely good. Sensation zings down my spine, and a groan rips its way through my throat. I really need to get off of him, but my body won’t budge while he is lighting it on fire.

His rough hands rub circles over my stomach while his playful mouth teases and kisses every inch of skin north of my cleavage. I drop my head forward, unable to move or think with his hands on me. It has only been a week since I’d first spoken to him, but I already crave his touch.

“Slumming it now, are we Owen?” That sickly-sweet voice snaps me out of my Owen trance. And its coming from the one person I hate more than anything on this earth.

Scrambling to my feet, I pull at my clothes and hair, trying to adjust them to look semi-presentable, even though I am probably covered in dirt and the heavy eye makeup Kelsey had applied the night before. Owen looks up, still blinking sleep out of his eyes, and scowls.

“What do you want Allison?” He throws her a pissed-off glance as he slowly gets to his feet.

She flicks her long blonde mane over her shoulder as she wraps a hand around Owen’s large right bicep. Allison’s hair, and her appearance for that matter, is always effortlessly perfect. She has the exact amount of wave that made hair fall on the sexy, and not unmanageable, side of curly. Her cutoff jean shorts and red crop top accentuate her Miss Teen North Carolina figure. She wore makeup, but knew how to disguise it so well that it didn’t even look like had it on at all. She was beautiful in a Hollywood starlet kind-of-way. Too bad her insides were so hideously ugly.

Since the incident sophomore year, Allison had been one of the people to ensure I never forgot. She tore me down whenever she could, reminding me and everyone within earshot just what had happened with Gregory.

The day I’d found out just how badly he’d toyed with me, she’d been among the leaders to circle around my locker, basking in the spectacle I’d become.

Gregory had been the one to steal my innocence and ruin me from any future relationship, but Allison had been the one to cement my social suicide. She’d murdered my high school existence and then powdered her nose on my dead body.

“Baby, where else would I be? The real question is, why didn’t I see you at all last night? I had a very special present for you.” She bats her lashes at him, licking her lips and baring her teeth in a move that had her looking more like a feral cat than a temptress if you asked me. “I see you’ve taken a ride on the town bus,” She giggles, hitting his arm. She’s pretending as if I’m not standing two feet from them.

“What the fuck did you just say?” His whole body tenses and vibrates, as if he was tightening every muscle to keep his anger at bay. “You know what, never mind Allison. You’re not worth it. You might apologize for interrupting us, but I know the word sorry doesn’t happen to be in your vocabulary. We have to get going, have a nice summer.” He politely smiles at her while steering me away with a hand at the small of my back.

I turn around just in time to see Allison staring daggers into my back, her eyes full of the promise of revenge.

My chest swells with happiness at Owen picking me in that showdown. He hadn’t even engaged her. I was surprised he’d acted so coldly towards her, but then again, I realized I didn’t know much about him below the surface. I had been judging him this entire time, just like my classmates had always judged me.

“Well, looks like you two are just the best of friends,” Owen gives me a sly, humor-filled smile. “Don’t mind Ali, she’s just mad that her soul is a blackhole of evil. You can’t help feel bad for the girl.”

I choke on my laugh, shocked at what I’m hearing from him.

“So, I take it you two haven’t made out in front of your lockers recently?”

He winces at my bringing up that memory. “Ew, I’m sorry you had to witness those unfortunate moments of my life. It took me way too damn long to figure out that Miss America over there only wants to spend her future athlete husband’s money on Botox and Prada.” His face turns stony, and he looks almost sad. It’s unexpected, but heartwarming.

“So, she interrupted us, huh?” I try to lift him from the funk that has settled over our conversation, but was surprised when I broached the subject of what had happened before she’d so rudely arrived.

“Oh you like me, you don’t have to deny it anymore. Here give me your phone,” he made grabby fingers at me.

“Why?”

“So I can put my number in it. I’d really rather not go a week without talking to you after I grope your ass again.” He deadpans. I narrow my eyes at him, keeping my phone safely in my grasp. “I’m kidding, Minka. I’d like to call you. So, let me give you my number.”

Reluctantly, I hand my phone over. “I’m only letting you do this because you’re so annoying and relentless,” My smirk gives away my lie. So maybe I like him, but I was being cautious, looking for any signs to duck and run.

He taps at the screen on my phone for a minute or two, his cellphone rang, and then he locks my phone and hands it back to me. “I called myself so I have your number. Now we can text all the time.” He winks. I have to bite my lips to stop from smiling at his adorable gesture.

“Well, I gotta get outta here. Summer training waits for no one, especially this stud,” he jokes, pointing his thumbs at his already spectacular upper body. Would it be weird if I asked to watch him lift weights? Perhaps without his shirt on? Yeah, okay, that would be weird.

“Alright…..well, I’m going to go find my friends….I guess I’ll, uh, see you around.” I shuffle my feet awkwardly, not quite knowing how to end the exchange.

Waking on him this morning had been….nicer than I expected. I’d slept really well, surprisingly well, and as weird as it was to admit it, waking up in his arms felt natural. It had me freaking out a little.

He reaches out, using his thumb and forefinger to frame my chin and lift it up so that I’m looking him in the eye. Rubbing his thumb over my cheekbone, he gives me that devastating lazy grin, “Yeah, you’ll definitely be seeing me around.”