The Lineup(58)

I tug on her ponytail. “No, just sit back and relax. I’ll let you know when they’re done.”

And when my libido has calmed down, because it seems that Dottie Domico can defeat the chill in the air and cause my dick to harden regardless. As I said, breathtaking.





Breakfast was good but uneventful. I made pancakes peacefully in the kitchen while Dottie hung outside. She looked so calm, so relaxed, that I didn’t bother her when I saw her head lull to the side and she fell asleep for a few short minutes.

We shared breakfast on the deck, staring at the lake, not really saying anything to each other. It was a comfortable silence I haven’t shared with many people. After breakfast, she cleaned the kitchen and I took a shower where I took matters into my own hands again, because the minute we were back in the house, Dottie dropped her blanket and showed off that little nightgown she packed for the trip. I swear she did it with pure torture—for me—in mind.

After a nice long shower and a rather quick release—I apparently transformed into a teenager the minute we hit the woods—I spent time catching up on some reading for the foundation. Thanks to no Internet, I can’t tackle any of the emails Natalie sent, but I did draft some things for later.

I close my computer as Dottie appears from her side of the house looking like a mountain goddess. Skinny jeans with hiking socks halfway up her shins, denim long-sleeved shirt, fresh face, and hair in high ponytail.

“Want to go for a hike?” she asks, sitting down on the couch with some hiking boots that she starts to strap on.

“Hell yeah. Let me grab my shoes and a jacket.” I take off toward my room, snag the things I need, and meet Dottie in the foyer. She has on a jacket as well and a backpack strapped to her back.

“What’s in the bag?”

“Snacks, water, a box cutter.”

“Box cutter?” I lift a brow.

“You know, self-defense.”

I hold up my fists. “That’s what these are for, sweet cheeks.”

“Oh, okay.” She rolls her eyes and opens the door.

“What?” We walk out of the cabin and lock up. “You don’t think I can do damage with these?”

“Oh, I’ve seen you do some damage on the playing field.”

She leads the way to a trail that flanks the side of the cabin. I fall in step with her, loving the still air and quiet sounds of nature still waking up. It’s stunning, and I get to experience it all with an equally stunning woman.

“You have, have you? Keeping track of me? Let me guess, you know my stats by heart.”

“No, not even close. Are you even good?” she asks, joking around.

I pull her in by the shoulder and give her a squeeze. “You know I’m fucking good, so don’t even pretend.” She pushes me away playfully.

“You’re all right. But I did see that one fight you got into with the Catamounts. That punch was all over the Internet.”

I chuckle to myself, thinking about that day. “I think that was the one and only time I actually blacked out from rage. I’m a pretty easygoing guy and can take a lot of shit, but that pitcher was asking to get punched. He’d pegged our players left and right all season, and when he tattooed my ribs with seams, I was over it.”

“You tossed your bat like a boss. I’ve seen the look on your face in slow motion. I’m pretty sure you were ready to eat that pitcher’s head off his shoulders.”

I casually shrug. “Don’t fuck with my team and don’t be a bitch on the mound.”

“You don’t seem like a fighter, you know. The footage surprised me.”

“You don’t think I’m tough?” I ask, flexing both arms for her, but she doesn’t give me the appreciation I was looking for. Instead, she shakes her head at me and keeps walking forward.

“You’re tough when you want to be, but most of the time, I think you’re just a giant teddy bear. Super sensitive, but also knows how to take a joke.”

“Sensitive isn’t a bad thing.”

“Never said it was. I think I need to work on my sensitivity a little.”

“Nooo, I would never say that about you,” I say sarcastically. “You’re the most sensitive person I know.”

She pushes me but barely makes me budge. “I can be sensitive. I just don’t cry over everything.”

“I don’t cry.”

“Puh-lease. You probably wept yourself to sleep last night over how beautiful the night sky was.”

No, I wept myself to sleep while jacking off to the image of you in that nightgown.

“You have me pegged all wrong. I don’t boo-hoo just for the hell of it. Something has to really get my emotions working for me to start up the waterworks.”

“Like what?” She pushes a branch to the side so it doesn’t whack me in the face. The farther we walk, the farther we dive into the woods, the dirt trail shrinking, making it a tight fit for the both of us to walk side by side, but we still maintain the position, even if our shoulders are now brushing against each other. I’m tempted to reach down and take her hand in mine. What would she do if I did? Rip her hand away? Snuggle closer? Give me a what the hell look?

I’m thinking maybe the third option, so I refrain, even though I feel the need deep within my bones, this almost uncontrollable urge. We need a few more flirty moments before I pull a stunt like holding her hand.