It’s the bottom of the ninth in game three of the NLDS. If we can get these next three outs without New York scoring, the Troubadours will be moving on to the NLCS next week. Yesterday, we packed all of Taylor’s belongings and moved them to my brownstone on central park west before dinner with our group at the Baker flagship restaurant in midtown. After that, I took Taylor home and we christened the living room and bedroom before the night was over.
I peer over at the stands and find her on her feet with Gabby and Ivory. They’re all holding hands and buzzing with the same energy I feel humming in my veins. Walker, our closer, strikes out the first batter. I join in with the rest of the team in banging on the outside of the dugout fence to cheer him on. He’s in the zone. I remember that feeling of being so locked in that no one and nothing could penetrate that bubble.
The next batter swings, connecting with the ball, but it’s a line drive to short and Chase snatches it out of the air for out number two.
This is it.
Walker winds up and paints the edge of the zone for the first strike. Miller shouts back at him, retrieving a fresh ball from the home plate umpire. Walker catches it, then circles the mound to get ready for the next pitch. This one is a ball slightly inside. The next pitch, the batter swings, sending it deep down theright field line. It turns foul at the last minute, and I release the breath I was holding, shaking out my arms to rid myself of the nerves.
Time slows as Walker releases the ball. It crosses the plate a half second before the batter swings. The echo of the ball hitting Miller’s glove reverberates like a shockwave as cheers erupt. Miller stands and tosses his mask off, running towards Walker who is pumping his fist in victory. Hands shoot up around me as the dugout goes crazy. Players jump the half-wall onto the field as the infield crowds around Miller and Walker. The bullpen starts running in from the outfield to celebrate as streamers and confetti cannons go off.
The Music City Troubadours are going to the National League Championship Series!
I grab Mike in a back slapping hug before we both rush the field to congratulate our team. T-shirts and hats are handed out. Pictures are taken. Hugs and slaps and handshakes are passed around. At some point the girls make it onto the field as well. Taylor leaves me with a promise of a sexy surprise when I make it home later, and then it’s time for the best part of the playoff celebrations—locker room beer showers.
For the next few hours, I lose myself in the camaraderie with the team as we bask in our victory and the first franchise run into the postseason. It’s a night I’ll never forget.
It’s made even better when I get back to my house and find Taylor waiting for me at the foot of the bed wearing nothing but my jersey. That is until she unbuttons it and shows me a fuck-hot lingerie set complete with matching bra, panties, and garter belt—all in the Troubadours blue with red accents.
I’m instantly hard.
“Fuck, I’m the luckiest man in the world. You look like my favorite present, and I’m going to take my time unwrapping you.” I rip off my shirt, thankful I showered and changed at the stadium to rid myself of most of the beer stench that clung tomy clothes and body. My pants fall to the floor next and I step out of them, palming my erection.
“Come and get it, Mr. Davenport,” she taunts, turning around and dropping the jersey off her shoulders. Bending, she plants her hands on the bed and arches her back. That’s when I see the number fifteen on the back of the belt secured around her waist.
Running my finger along the stitching, I grab her throat with my other hand and lift her back to my chest. “Did you stamp this number on the back just for me?”
“Yes, sir,” she purrs, rubbing her ass against my groin. Snaking my hand along the belt, I feel stitching on the front as well.
“What do you have stitched here?” I bite her earlobe and she lets out a moan.
“Why don’t you turn me around and find out?” She turns her head and licks at my lips. I suck her tongue into my mouth, tightening my hold on her and plastering her body to mine, nestling my cock between the perfect globes of her ass. My fingers wander under the belt and tuck into her panties where I cup her pussy.
Taylor whimpers into my mouth, grinding her clit against my hand. Her movements become erratic, and I know she’s close, but I plan to own her pleasure while I watch it all unfold tonight, so I pull my hand out of her panties.
“Noooo,” she protests.
“Let me see.” I reluctantly remove my hand from her throat, instead finding her hip and spinning her around to face me. Starting at her mouth, I swipe my tongue inside again in a bruising kiss and then trail my tongue over her jaw, her neck, across her collarbone and down her chest, licking and kissing a path to her luscious tits. I tug the barely there cups down with my teeth, sucking a nipple into my mouth.
“Fuck, yes,” Taylor pants above me, tunneling her fingers through my slightly damp hair. Her nails dig into my scalp at thesame time as I lightly scrape my teeth around the puckered bud. Releasing her with a pop, I move to the other side, repeating the action while she squirms above me.
Peering up at her, I lick my way down her stomach to the belt just below her belly button. “Now, let’s see what you branded here for me.”
She bites her lip and palms a breast. There, emblazoned in white against the blue garter belt, are the words “Owner’s Wife.”
“Tay baby, did you actually brand your lingerie for me?”
“Do you like it?”
“Fucking love it.” I place a kiss over the words. Pushing her back until her ass touches the bed, I lift her leg and drape it over my shoulder. “I’m going to show you how much I love it, and you, by eating this pussy until you come all over my face.”
With my teeth I bite the top of her panties and snap them away from her body. She bucks her hips, seeking my mouth on her core. Kissing my way down the triangle of lace, I take my time despite her repeated attempts to get me where she wants me.
“Patience, wife. This ismypussy, and I’m going to do what I want when I want with it, and right now I want to edge you until you’re pulling my hair out and you can’t take it anymore.”
I swipe my tongue over the lace covering her center before hooking a finger into the side so I can taste her properly. My eyes roll back in my head as her wetness coats my tongue. Circling a finger around her entrance, I tease the tip inside and continue, “and then I’m going to sink my cock so deep inside this perfect cunt you won’t be able to resist screaming my name when you come as I remind you just how much you own me.”
“Don’t you mean how muchyouownme?” She moans when I suck her clit into my mouth.
