Winning Streak (The Beasts of Baseball #4)

“Going,” I quickly answered, pulling myself back to reality and out of the dream where I’m single and get to explore what it’s like to have a woman like her.

“That’s a pity.” She pouted, pushing her bottom lip out and moving a step closer, lifting a hand to my shoulder. “I can’t tempt you to stay for just one more?” Her hand slid down my arm, squeezed and stroked in that same motion from earlier. My cock twitched.

“No, I’m sorry, I’m already late as it is.”

She sighed a long exhale. “Yes, of course, the girlfriend. An exciting celebration together, can’t miss that.” Her tone was almost sarcastic but still sweet. “Enjoy.”

“Your car, sir,” the valet said as he opened the driver’s side door and stepped out. I took his place behind the wheel and watched as Caroline disappeared into the bar. I felt a twinge of jealousy as I worried that Ace would make her his main course.

I was thankful the night air had cooled off, sobering me even further. The image of Ace and Caroline together was irritating the piss out of me. I tried to convince myself that a woman like that wouldn’t fall for Ace’s silly games, and he was far too drunk and full of himself to seduce her properly. I knew he could, but tonight he was already on a roll.

Whitney sat on the couch with her knees bunched up against her chest as I walked in. Her hair was in a ponytail, her face was already washed of any makeup, and she was dressed in one of my t-shirts. She was cute, adorable really. I smiled and dropped my keys on the side table near the door.

She jumped up from the couch and rushed to me, her arms wrapping tightly around my neck as she tiptoed to give me a kiss. The scent of her vanilla perfume was soothing and calmed me from the thoughts I had on the drive home. This is where I wanted to be, who I wanted to be with. Not some random chick who flaunted her pussy to any player who wanted to see, or Caroline Black, who quite honestly, was probably a real high-maintenance bitch. My lips pressed against hers, and it felt like home.

“Are you hungry?” she asked cheerfully, running her fingers through my hair.

I nodded even though I wasn’t exactly hungry after chowing on the appetizers the chef made. I followed her to the kitchen anyway and sat at the table while she pulled a casserole dish from the oven.

“What’s this?” I asked, staring down at a tuna casserole with crushed potato chips crumbled on top.

Her smile fell. “You used to love my tuna casserole.” I could tell by her tone she was hurt.

After having tasted all those delicious flavors at the bar, this just seemed drab and boring.

“Yes, I did. I mean, I do,” I quickly corrected myself.

It was too late. She sat down beside me and pulled her knees to her chest to sulk. I think she muttered, “Asshole.”

I noticed the bottle of cheap wine on the table, one you would find at the supermarket for a few bucks. “It’s just, we don’t have to eat tuna casserole anymore, or drink cheap wine with screw off caps,” I said in a tone I thought was kind and thoughtful. The look on Whitney’s face told me I obviously didn’t say it kind or thoughtful enough.

Her tongue ran over her teeth, and her nostrils flared. Shit!

“So, even though you used to love tuna casserole, now that you can afford something else, you don’t want it? It’s not good enough for you?”

Oh shit, she’s pissed. What the hell did I do wrong?

“I do want it, I’m sorry.” I did my best to back out of this fight I had no idea how had gotten started. “It was just a special night.”

Her eyes welled up with tears.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

“Baby, please don’t cry.” I reached towards her chair and pulled it close to mine. I wiped the tears as they fell from her cheek and lifted her chin so she would look at me. “I didn’t mean anything by it,” I promised. “I love you, and if that means eating tuna casserole every night, then I will.”

I really didn’t mean that, so I hoped she wouldn’t take me at my word and force feed me this awful concoction every night, or ever again. I reminded myself that she was young, and her cooking wasn’t exactly edible. This was the first thing she’d ever made that wasn’t half bad. It still wasn’t good.

“Really?” Hope bloomed back on her face.

I gulped and nodded. “Really.”

I stifled a groan and kept a wide smile plastered on my face as she scooped a large helping onto my plate and then poured me a glass of the cheap wine. I had finally gotten her calmed down, so I had to force myself to finish every last bite.

“Now for dessert,” she tempted, pulling me from the chair.

Please don’t have one of your dry cakes hidden in the oven.

She bit her bottom lip and guided me to the bedroom. My belly was growling with anger at what I had just put into it. Her hands slowly slid the t-shirt from her body, exposing her firm, full breasts. My mouth suddenly wanted to eat again and I moved towards her flesh quickly and aggressively as she giggled. I took her breast into my mouth, sucked hard as my tongue flicked at her erect nipple. Her hands worked the zipper and button on my pants and pushed them down over my hips. I helped her remove my boxers and kicked my shoes and my clothes to the floor.

I picked her up by the waist, tossed her onto the bed and quickly slid off my shirt. My mouth dove back into her flesh, first her neck and then her mouth, tasting the cheap wine she’d drank as it entangled around hers. An image of Caroline shot into my head as I slid Whitney’s panties from her hips. I pushed it out as quickly as it appeared and returned my attention to the woman I loved.

“We need to get you some sexier panties,” I whispered as I tossed her cotton ones to the floor.

My tongue burrowed through her pink flesh and entered her body with a force. I pushed it in and out of her sweetness, watching her as she squirmed and my cock hardened from her taste. I pressed my thumb against her clit, rolling it as my tongue slowly lapped at her inner thighs. She squirmed and moaned as I left her pussy empty, only teasing it with a soft brushing of my tongue as I slid it to her other thigh. I loved teasing her.

Come one, baby, say it. Don’t make me ask you…

My tongue skipped past her pussy again, this time moving upward to her belly. She ground her hips towards me, raised her ass off the bed, and let out a soft moan.

“What do you want, baby?” I whispered, moving between her legs again, blowing gently against her wet pink skin. She knew what I wanted her to say, what I needed her to say.

“Fuck me, please,” she groaned and stared at me with hungry eyes.

My mouth lowered to her clit, sucked it into my mouth, and sucked hard enough to make her come on command if I hadn’t let it go. Her moans grew louder and louder as I shoved my fingers inside her warmth. I worked them in and out as she pushed hard against my hand.

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