CHAPTER 10
LAYLA
I miss Gabe more than I thought I would. And, lucky for us, I have a business trip in the same city he’s playing in tomorrow night. I think it’ll be a sweet little treat that we both could use right now. We’ve both been busy; me with a new startup and him on the road for postseason, which may or may not lead to a world series appearance. It’s busy and chaotic. But it’s us. We met on the fly and now we see each other on the fly. It’s just the way it is.
Layla: Care for some company tomorrow night?
Gabe: With you? Always! What did you have in mind?
Layla: It just so happens that I’m in town for a business meeting. My night is open.
Gabe: Here? Fuck woman, that’s the best thing I’ve heard all day. It’ll be late when I get back. Wait for me?
Layla: I don’t care. I just want to see you.
Gabe: I’ll leave you a key at the front desk.
Layla: Perfect.
Gabe:
Layla:
Gabe:
Layla: See you tomorrow night, handsome.
Gabe: Can’t wait, beautiful.
Layla:
Gabe
We lost by one point tonight. I feel like I’ve been kicked in the gut. And I fucking hate the feeling. By now, I should know how to handle the end of a season, but it never gets any easier. The men gave it their all, but it wasn’t enough. Stings like hell. Not only for the players, but for the entire organization. Hell, even the fans are bummed. But it’s part of playing the game.
On the way back to the hotel, the mood on the bus is somber and quiet. I think all the players are just ruminating over tonight’s game. What went wrong and what they could have done better. We’ve all been there. If you let this shit get inside your head, you’ll never be able to effectively play the game. My best advice to anyone who feels the sting of the loss and end of another season: come to terms with it and know that there is always next season.
Exiting the team bus, players file into the hotel lobby, their spirits a tad bit broken. Hopefully the sting will lessen and they’ll go home to their families, proud they made it as far into the postseason as they did. They should be proud of that. A fact that I reiterated in the locker room postgame. I just hope they took it to heart. Sloughing it off, I head to my room. Layla is waiting for me.
“Hello, handsome,” Layla purrs, a glass of Pinot Noir in her hand.
I drop my bag to the floor and go to her. She’s almost as tall as me in her heels. “Mmm, beauty, you taste good,” I growl after sealing my lips to hers.
“Oh?” she murmurs, coquettishly, batting her eyelashes at me, her lips puffy from my kiss.
“Mmmhmm,” I murmur against her neck, my lips on her soft skin as I unbutton her blouse. Kissing down her neck, I place kisses on her collarbone, too. Pushing the fabric of her blouse aside, I revel in the black lace lovingly cupping her tits. Placing a kiss on the slope of each breast, I lick each one, Layla trembling in my arms. She pushes her pelvis against me, seeking relief. I know she can feel how hard I am. “Patience, woman,” I whisper, dropping to my knees.
I trail kisses down her tummy, then push up her skirt. She sways on her feet.
“Gabe,” she whimpers, as I expose the lace of her panties.
I breathe in her arousal. She smells fucking divine. Spanning her waist with my hands, I use my thumbs and rub the space between the top of her black lace panties and her belly button. I glance up at her and her pupils are dilated, her nipples hard peaks. I want a taste of her hard nipples, but I wanted to taste her sweet pussy more. Giving a kiss to the space between my thumbs, I move south, kissing her dripping core through the fabric of her panties.
“Gabe,” she moans, her legs unsteady.
Wanting a preview, I lick the lace of her panties and I’m rewarded when her flavor explodes over my tongue. She shivers, her hands on my shoulders. I’m nowhere close to being done; I’m just getting started. Hooking my thumbs into the sides of her panties, I lower them down her legs, leaving them at her ankles. Her arousal wafts around us, and I can’t wait any longer. Pushing her legs apart, she opens to me, her clit swollen and needy. Using my thumb, I rub her pink nub and her legs shake, her arousal glistening on her thighs.
“Gabe!” she whines, her hands tugging at my hair.
