Page 79 of Praising the Pitcher

I rest my chin against his body and inhale. I smile slightly, but I’m not sure if it’s a sad smile or a happy one. When it comes to those words, it can go both ways.

“My pitching coach has said it to me from the very first day I worked with him,” I whisper, the sound of William’s voice in my head, clear as day. “But it’s also something my mom used to call out to me when I was on the mound. A reminder, I guess. She never said it in a way that made me feel like I was screwing up the game or showing my opponent I was nervous. It always felt more of a reminder that I should stand tall. Like … I deserved to.” I smile, thinking about her warm voice and how soothing it always was. She had a way of calming me down even when inside, there was a storm brewing. My smile fades when I think about who else used to say it. “And my dad. He’d say it, but not in the same way. He’d call it out through gritted teeth sometimes. Never when he thought I was doing good, and not as a way to encourage me.” I sigh. “Instead, it was to snap at me to act like I belonged out there when he thought it looked like I didn’t.”

His fingers brush against my back, his gaze on me.

“You got it for your mom, your coach, and yourself then?” He swallows. “Right?”

I’m quiet for a moment, thinking about all the reasons why I chose the words I did. “I got it for them, and I got for my dad too.” I breathe out a sad laugh. “Well, I got it in spite of him, I should say. Because even when he expected me to crumble under the pressure, even when he yelled those words out as a way to tell me I was failing, I chose to stand tall anyway. I straightened my spine. I lifted my chin. I told myself what my mom always had. I belonged on the mound, and it was my right to carry myself that way.”

“Damn right you do, baby,” he utters, and I can hear the emotion in his voice.

Suddenly, he sits up, tugging me with him.

“Come on,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to my temple.

“Where?” I say, holding the sheet over my naked body, as if he didn’t just see it all. It’s midnight now, and he just got done saying we’re stuck here.

“We’re going to shower before bed,” he says, matter-of-factly. “Because for weeks, I’ve fucked my hand to thoughts of you in the shower, water running over your body. And now, I get to live that reality.” He winks. “So be a good girl and follow me.”

Scurrying up, I head toward the bathroom. Because hell no, I don’t need to be told those words twice.

NOAH

I comb Gigi’s hair out with my fingers, rinsing the conditioner out and trying to ignore my dick standing tall and her ass brushing against it when she leans forward to wash off her face.

Goddamn, her ass is so beautiful; I’d love to sink my teeth into her ass cheeks before kissing my way further and slipping my tongue inside.

She turns slowly to face me, lifting her hands to cover her soaked tits, but I shake my head and grab her wrists.

“No way, beautiful girl,” I tsk her. “You’re not hiding any part of your body from me.” I lean forward, kissing along her jawline. “Not when it’s a wonder of the world, and I want to explore every inch of it.”

I lean further down, bringing her left nipple into my mouth and sucking. The water from the showerhead drips down her breast, soaking my lips as a soft moan slips from her throat.

I hover my lips so close to hers they almost touch. “Never hide from me, Smoke. I’m begging you.”

I kiss her before I stand up straight, placing my hands on her waist.

“I’ll try my best,” she croons shyly, and as my long, hard cock stands out straight, it brushes against her, catching her attention.

Her eyes angle down, and her soaked lips part as she drags in a breath through her teeth.

“That’s what you do to me, Smoke,” I rasp. “You make my dick so hard. It’s fucking throbbing at the sight of you.”

Her eyes float back to mine, but only for a second. A hint of something flashes in her eyes, and her nipples pebble.

Slowly, she sinks down before me, and when I realize what she’s wanting, I shudder.

“What are you doing?” rushes out of my mouth just as she hits her knees.

My shy, unsure, beautiful girl stares up at me.

“I want to …” She stops, looking away, but I reach down, forcing her gaze back to mine. She’s such a beautiful sight on her knees, water pelting off her hair and down her back.

“Just ask, beautiful.” I bite the words out, my dick jumping. “Whatever it is, I’ll give it to you. Just tell me.”

Her whole life, she’s been taught not to trust her own judgment. She’s unsure of herself at every turn, and all I want is for her to be comfortable with me.

Comfortable enough to say the words out loud that are going to make my dick jolt.