Brianna nodded. “Fuck. Yes. I’m yours, Damien. Please, please make me come.”
“Anything for you.”
I leaned back on my haunches, dragging her hips to meet mine and slamming inside her. As Brianna’s back bowed off the bed, my thumb found her swollen clit, pressing deep circles to match my frantic thrusts. She gasped and stared up at me, herpouty mouth forming a perfect circle. “Say it, Damien. I need to hear it.”
“I’m yours, angel,” I said as I kept up my brutal pace. “And you’re so fucking mine.”
My truth sent her hurtling over the edge, crashing into her orgasm with a vicious roar. Brianna’s nails raked down my back, pulling me closer than ever before. But I hardly felt the pain, too busy surrendering to the sensations surrounding me. As she relaxed against the pillows, my release poured out of me, coating Brianna’s walls with my cum. When it finally slowed, I inched back, loving the way it spilled out of her onto the pale sheets surrounding us.
After I flopped back onto the pillows, I pulled Brianna against my chest. We were both slick with sweat, but I couldn’t bring myself to care, not when she’d just destroyed all my brain cells. Instead, I just held her, running my fingers through her brunette waves.
“That was incredible,” Brianna said, exhaustion making her words mumbled.
“Yeah, it was.”
There was so much more I wanted to say—so many more words I wanted to give Brianna. Truth be told, every moment I spent with her was better than the last. Since we’d met, she’d climbed under my skin, and I had no interest in digging her out. This woman owned me, and for the first time in my life, I was happy to hand over control.
The past decade of my life had been amazing. Getting to play ball in the major leagues was a gift—one I was determined to keep every single day—but spending this time with Brianna made me realize how much I’d forsaken in the name of the game. And while I might have made mistakes in my past, ones that cost me more than I even thought possible, I refused to lose this woman in front of me.
Because she was quickly becoming my everything.
A bunch of words rushed through my mind, ones I had no right to say to her just yet, emotions that had started to build but didn’t dare bring up to her. But they repeated in my brain like an anthem.Mi amor, mi vida, mi alma.All names that would have flown off my tongue if Brianna was ready to hear them.
Brianna drifted off to sleep in my arms, and I stayed up to watch her, unable to close my eyes just yet.
THIRTY-TWO
As I stood in the stadium in Miami, the heat beat down along my spine. The sun glared above us, almost as antagonistic as the guys on the field. The tension was thick, muttered curses breaking out into a screaming match as they kept pace with one another.
Even up in the stands, the surge of adrenaline from both teams overwhelmed us. Both Erie City and Miami wanted to come out the winners in this series. With the playoffs starting next week, everyone wanted that edge, but only one team could walk away the winner. With most of the fans decked out in Miami’s color, we were the lone patch of dark green in a sea of aqua blue.
I gripped the edge of my jersey, still trusting my instinct to wear it. Damien left for the stadium long before I woke up, so my wearing it would be a surprise to him. Sure, he’d asked me to, but it was different to actually have it on me.
During a normal game back home, he would have already spotted me, gifting me a cocky smirk that made my eyes roll and my thighs clench simultaneously. But tonight, gone was that arrogant manstrutting across the field, playing up his skills for the crowd. Damien stayed focused, so focused, he’d barely had time to glance up here; he only offered me a slight smile when he saw me waving.
I tucked my lip between my teeth, imagining the spark in his eyes when he saw me wearing it, his rough hands running underneath the fabric, reminding me what it meant to be his. Because me in his colors, with his name embroidered along my shoulders, the number twelve boldly displayed along my spine, told the world I was his, just as much as Damien was mine.
Ollie practically squealed when I showed up at her hotel room, all dressed and ready for the game in her Drobrek jersey. I tried to push in to tell her all about my night, but she ushered me out too quickly, making up some excuse about the room being a disaster.
That was no surprise. The girl practically lived every day like it was a challenge to cover most of the floor with clothes, papers, and everything else she owned. But this was the first time she had ever hidden it from me.
“They need to get ahead of these guys,” Ollie muttered from my side, her thumbnail jammed between her teeth. “Next inning. They’re going to get so many hits during the next one.”
Ollie kept muttering, her words more for herself than for me. As she whispered prayers to anyone who would listen, I zoned out, focusing on the field. While the opposing team worked through their batting lineup, the surrounding group chatted. A lot of the wives didn’t travel for away games, but some other family members showed up and sat with us in the outfield. Most of them didn’t travelfor regular away games, but a couple made the trip down to Miami before the winter months took over upstate New York.
In fact, some seemed more interested in the nightlife downtown than in the game in front of them, but I tuned them out. While baseball had never been high on my list of interests, knowing someone I cared about was playing his heart out on that field made things shift for me.
“Fuck,” Ollie muttered as another player snuck past Parker, making a break for home while he rushed to grab the ball. Her eyes darted up to the scoreboard, frowning as Miami surpassed the Hawks in runs.
“Is Parker okay?” I quietly asked. That was the third ball Parker had let slip through his fingers. “He’s having an off day.”
Ollie’s mouth opened and promptly slammed closed. Eventually, she sighed. “Something’s going on with him, but he won’t talk to me about it. I thought it was just the pressure of the season but…”
“But?”
Her face fell, more solemn than I’d ever seen. “We’ve always been open with each other, even at our worst. And if he’s throwing up walls between us now…” She gave me a humorless smile. “I’m probably overthinking everything.”
Before I could respond, a crack slammed through the air, and my eyes focused on the batter in front of us. He had barely moved, watching the ball to see what would happen next. As if he had predicted it, Cam rushed forward and caught the pop-up in his glove, holding it up to mark the out. The Miami fans groaned as the innings switched and our guys headed back into the dugout.
