Cleat Catcher (The Cleat Chaser Duet Book 2) (11 page)

Slider. Slider.

His arm whipped around, and he released the ball. It was the pitch I wanted.

I rolled my shoulders back and took an inside-out swing just as the ball broke sharp toward the outside corner.

I smashed it.

It was a hard shot down the first base line. I dropped the bat and sprinted toward the bag as the first baseman laid out, reaching for the ball. It cleared his glove by a matter of inches and curved hard. It landed roughly two feet inside the foul line and then bounced into the right field corner.

Air rushed into my lungs as I sprinted toward first. The crowd thundered around me.

What the fuck?
I felt a soft pop in my knee and I stumbled, suspended in the air like I was in slow motion, before planting face first in the chalk line.

I raised my head up to see the right fielder scoop up the ball next to the foul pole. My teammate that was on second was rounding third and heading for the plate to score the winning run. But there were two outs, and I had to make it to first base, or the game was over. We’d lose.

I sprang to my feet and a dull pain radiated from my thigh down to my toes.

The front office is watching. An injury and they will cut you for sure.

I ran as hard as I could to first base, somehow fighting through the pain ripping through my leg. The right fielder fired the ball toward first base, knowing that throwing me out was their last chance at getting the win. I leapt for the bag just as the ball arrived.

I couldn’t see anything above me as I stared at the base and stretched my arms as far out as humanly possible. My fingers slid over the top of the hard plastic, and my body followed right behind. Unable to see the umpire, I listened for the crowd to tell me if I’d made it in time.

A split second seemed like a thousand years. Then the place went fucking insane.

Safe
.

I clapped my hands out in front of my face, sending a dusty dirt cloud straight up my nose. Adrenaline coursed through my veins, and I hoped it would carry me off the field without limping. I had to keep everything normal until I could figure out what to do about my knee.

My teammates were rushing after me, smiles plastered to their faces, some of them screaming and jumping.

Fuck a goddamn duck.

I had to play it just right. If they tackled me they might fuck up my knee worse, but if I didn’t let them, the front office would know I was possibly injured. Easton was in the front of the pack and I locked eyes with him. I glanced to my knee, before holding my hand up slightly to let him know to slow down when he got to me.

He nodded.

When the stampede arrived, Easton took me to the ground, and I landed with my bad knee in the air to avoid impact. He propped himself on all fours over my knee and took the entire weight of the dog pile onto his back. How he did it, I had no idea.

We were face to face. “Nice fucking rip, man.”

“Thanks, buddy.” I strained to lift my head toward his ear. “Help me as much as you can, but don’t let anyone see.”

“Okay.”

After a few moments, the dog pile finally cleared, and Easton helped me to my feet. My knee was pretty fucked, but it could easily just be a bad bruise that would heal on its own in a day or two. I’d play through it like usual. The shit happened to catchers all the time.

While surrounded by all the guys, Easton kept his arm out for me to hold onto for support as I walked. When we were about ten feet from the dugout, everyone scattered, and I nodded at him.

He let go. I gritted my teeth and walked the last ten feet to the dugout on my own like nothing was wrong. It hurt so fucking bad I couldn’t even look at Nik. That crushed me more than anything.

Easton and Coach stood in front of me after most of the players had gone. People had big mouths, and I couldn’t risk any information getting back to the GM.

Once sure everyone had left, Coach turned to me. “How bad?”

“It’s not that bad, Coach.”

“The fuck.” Easton drew out his syllables, and he turned to Coach. “I had to take the weight of the pile so they didn’t land on him. And then help him off the field until the guys scattered. I still don’t know how he walked the last ten feet like that. He didn’t even look at his girlfriend, so I
know
it’s worse than ‘not that bad.’” He shook his head. “You can fucking trust us. We’re on your side. But you need to tell the truth. Stop trying to shoulder everything.”

Coach folded his arms over his chest and scowled. “He’s right you know? For once.”

“Oh, eat me.” Easton chuckled, as did I.

“Look, it could be bad. It could be bruised. I don’t know.” I pulled off a cleat.

“Did you feel a pop?” asked Easton.

I dropped my gaze to the ground.

Easton ran both hands up behind his head, and he arched his back as he looked up. “He has to go to a doctor.”

“Fuck you.” I tried to stand up and hobbled for a second. “I’m not going to a doctor. Ain’t happening!”

“Boys. Calm the fuck down. This shit doesn’t solve anything.”

Easton paced back and forth. “He felt a pop. You heard him. His knee—”

“What’s that about a knee?”

The three of us turned our heads in the direction of the voice. Rick Ingram, the general manager of the team, walked in. He was mid-thirties and the smuggest fuck on the planet. He’d been a big time sports analyst, and had devised a system using math and statistics to value baseball players. He saw us as numbers, not people, and gave no points for any intangibles like leadership or character. He was a cunt-o-potamus rex.

“Huh?” Coach’s voice boomed as Ingram strolled over.

“I heard something about a knee. What’s up? You okay, Braden?” A devilish smile formed on Ingram’s face.

“Just fine, sir.” I prayed he wouldn’t ask me to stand. I needed ice in the worst way, and then a whirlpool soak, and then for Nik to sit on my dick. Then I’d be fine.

“VanDerbakken.”

We all stared at Coach.

“What?” He shrugged. “He tore his ACL last week. Catcher for the A’s. That’s who we were talking about.”

It was true. I’d read about it a couple days ago.

“Oh, right.” Ingram brushed off the sleeve of his suit with distaste. He acted as if he hated having to come down and mingle with his lowly players. He turned his stare from Braden to Coach, and he motioned toward Coach’s office.

“Yep. You guys behave. But enjoy the win. Great fucking hit, Braden. You really
saved
our asses tonight. I don’t know what we’d do without you.” Coach glowered at Ingram as he spoke, then stomped over to his office.

Finally, they shut the door and I whipped my head up to meet Easton’s stare. “Get me out of here, quick.”

N
IKKI

“
I
WISH I
could get in bed with you.” I sighed and fastened the back to my earring. My mom had called and invited me, just me, for dinner again. I’d refused. Then she sent my dad, who claimed my mom wanted to apologize, to visit me at work. Worry had laced his voice and crinkled his forehead. The scene the prior week had them on edge about Braden.

I couldn’t hide from Mom forever, unfortunately, so I intended to get it over with. Maybe they’d listen to me if I could talk to them one on one. Braden was going to be a part of my life with or without them. I just had to make them understand.

“You look beautiful.” Braden placed his hands behind his head.

I twirled so he could see all of me. My white top draped along my breasts, and my navy skirt fell to the middle of my thigh.

He made an
mmm
sound. “Good enough to eat. Speaking of that, come sit on my face.”

I arched a brow at him and put in my other earring. “You are having a majorly lazy day. Have you even been out of bed? You’re in the same spot you were in when I left for work.”

He shifted lower so he was lying flat on his back. “Come on over. I haven’t shaved in a couple days either. So this is officially a mustache ride.”

I giggled and walked through the bathroom and into the closet to find some shoes.

“I’m serious,” he called.

“No, you aren’t. You’re just trying to make me later than I already am.” I snagged a pair of strappy, silver sandals and returned to the bedroom.

“If you don’t get over here, I’ll drag you.” He raised up on an elbow and gave me a smoldering stare that went straight to my pussy. His broad chest was covered with a light dusting of dark hair, and the covers had slid down to reveal his muscled abs. The sheet began to tent over his cock.

I licked my lips and rubbed my thighs together. “Braden—”

“Tell me no again and you’ll get a spanking. Then you’ll have to explain to Mommy and Daddy why you can’t sit down at dinner.”

My knees went weak. “Oh my God. You’re awful.”

He leaned back and grinned. “Yes, yes I am. Now get that pussy on my face.”

My nipples hardened painfully against the molded cups of my bra. I wanted a spanking, of course, but I also wanted to be able to sit normally when I met with my parents. Then again, it seemed obvious that, when faced with having my pussy eaten or not having my pussy eaten, I should always go with having my pussy eaten. Even if it made me late to dinner.

“Nikki—”

“Okay, okay.” I slid my panties to the floor and walked to the bed. Before I could climb on top, Braden grabbed me around the waist and lifted me onto his chest.

He shoved my skirt up to my hips and stared between my legs. “I’m starving.”

“Braden.” I put a hand to my throat, my heart suddenly beating too fast.

“Show me your tits.” He grabbed my ass and pulled me toward the head of the bed.

I moved my knees so they were above his shoulders, my pussy hovering right above his face. He wrenched the fabric of my skirt tight around my stomach and stared up at me as I lifted my shirt and pulled my bra down. My pussy tingled each time he exhaled, and goosebumps rose all over my skin as he stared at my tits.

“Pinch your nipples.” He kneaded my ass.

I did as he said, pinching my nipples and moaning from my own touch.

“That’s my good girl.” He wrapped his hands around my upper thighs and pulled me down onto his mouth.

“Oh, Jesus.” My head fell back when he licked me from my entrance to my clit. I tried to lift up from him a little, to give him some space.

He wasn’t having it. His hands tightened on my thighs, pulling my full weight down onto him as he growled into my wet skin. He licked again and stopped.

I peered down at him, and he began swirling his tongue around my clit, but when I looked at the headboard, he stopped.

“You want me to watch?” I pinched my nipples harder and rocked my hips against his lips as he nodded.

I kept my gaze locked on his as he pressed his tongue inside me. His kissing skills translated well from my mouth to my pussy. I cupped my tits and let my hips go, riding his face in long, slow movements.

He increased his tempo, focusing on my most sensitive spot and gripping my thighs hard enough to leave bruises.

Each swipe of his tongue sent a jolt of pleasure through me, and tension pooled low in my hips. My movements became shorter and faster as he ran the broadside of his tongue against my clit again and again. I closed my eyes for a moment. When he stopped, I wanted to slap him. Instead, I opened my eyes. The skin around his eyes crinkled as he smiled against me and began licking again.

“Fucker.” I glared and then squealed as he popped my ass with a smack.

He intensified his efforts, and I rode him hard, the way he liked it. I ground my pussy down on him, giving him every bit of me to lick and suck. My thighs began to tremble, and I kept my gaze firmly fixed on his hazel eyes. He did that thing where he flicked me with the tip of his tongue, then bore down and sucked. I was gone, moaning low in my throat as my hips seized and I came with a thumping orgasm. He shook his head back and forth, sending tiny explosions rocketing through my body until every circuit was overloaded. I leaned against the headboard and finally closed my eyes.