Page 35 of The Sweet Spot

He's still looking at me earnestly.

I shake my head and state clearly, “It was not related.”

“And are you willing to take that chance today? On the final round?”

I don't answer.

“We'll lose. If we don't repeat what we did...I don't know if our winning streak will continue.”

“You're insane.”

“I'm a baseball player who believes in superstition. I want us to win, don't you?”

“Of course, but what you're suggesting is the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard.”

“Max is going to come out today and play the best round of his life, because that's what Max does when he loses. I've got no chance against him if my hips tighten up again and my grip is wrong, which means—”

“Oh my God.” I press my fingers to the bridge of my nose. “You're seriously trying to—”

“I just want to win.”

“So do I.”

“Then let's do this and guarantee it.”

Do this... as in let him finger me again.

Would it help us win? Maybe, but not because of luck. It would be because of mindset. JB's superstitious and he's got it in his head that this will help him perform, ergo, if it doesn't happen, I'm not going to get the same player I had during the back nine yesterday.

His fingers dance on his thigh, and my pussy clenches at the mere thought of having them back inside me, stroking me in just the right way.

“Just five minutes. That's all I need to get them wet enough so it really soaks in.”

“What a proposal,” I mutter sarcastically.

On second thought, this could be a win-win for us both. If he gets me off in five minutes, he'd have his superstition satisfied, and I'd be able to get him out of my system. Would it be that bad to feel it one more time? After today, I'll probably never see JB again. I don't exactly have time to be going to near daily baseball games, and who knows how long I'm going to have to wait for my next chance with a guy.

Sighing, I stand from the couch and start walking to the bedroom.

“I cannot believe I'm about to do this.”

“Wait,” he says from behind. “You're—”

“Get in here. You have five minutes.”

I hear him rustling behind me, so I turn, holding up a finger toward him. “But let's be clear. I'm only doing this because I want to win.”

And get myself off.

He raises his hands, unable to hide his grin. “Same. It's all about the superstition.”

His fingers wiggle, making me shiver.

“This does not mean anything.”

“Absolutely not.” He nods in agreement.

“Let's get this over with.” I turn back to the bed and pull the sheets back up so that it's a smooth surface. Then, I sit on the edge, letting my knees part.