Curveball(32)

“I’m so sorry you had to go through that, babe.”

“That case is why I finally gave in to you.”

The corner of his mouth turns up into a cocky-as-fuck smirk, making me want to straddle him in the restaurant. “You mean, it wasn’t my big cock and winning charm? Because that works every time.”

I roll my eyes and shake my head, laughing. “While your big cock had a lot to do with it, I’m not so sure you were charming.”

“Not even a little bit?”

I shrug against his muscular chest and fall further into his embrace. “Maybe. Tonight, you have been unusually charming. In the beginning, you were a total pig.”

“You are the first girl I’ve kept around for more than a day or two.”

As I glare up at him, my eyebrows rise in disbelief, though I have no idea why after knowing how Mark is with women. “Ever?”

He shakes his head. “Nope. Never. You are my first actual girlfriend, and this is my first date in a restaurant, like an adult. You have this weird effect on me.”

“If I remember correctly, you never called after the first night. Would you have called me if I hadn’t come to your race with Donna?”

“I thought about calling you after I left your apartment, but I’d never done repeats before I met you. At some point, I guess I would have hit you up for a booty call. Who knows? I guarantee, you would have gotten a drunk text or a dick pic at a bare minimum.”

“You’re horrible, you know that?” I smack him on the arm.

He grabs my hand and then bends down to kiss my neck, pinning me in place so that he can torture me as he continues leaving kisses that burn my skin.

“Keep that up, and we won’t make it out of this place without fucking on this table.”

“If that’s what you want,” he whispers against my neck, “I can make that a reality. Just say the word.”

I suck in a deep breath when he places my hand on his erection, and because the combination of his kisses and giant cock excites me, I massage him over his pants. My panties are so fucking wet, I want him to take me into the restroom and bend me over the sink, like we did last week at school.

All the impromptu sex we’ve been having makes me feel as if I’m back in college, due in part to my boyfriend still being in college, which makes me sound like such a cradle-robber. But, for the first time since we met, what we’re doing is real, official.

I’m about to shove his hand beneath my dress when the waitress comes back with our salad, interrupting our under-the-table action.

“Dig in,” Mark says, stabbing at the lettuce with his fork. “Unless you’d rather eat something else.”

Removing my hand from his lap, I lift my fork and roll my eyes. “Let’s save that for dessert.”

He smiles and shoves the lettuce into his mouth, still grinning like a damn fool as he chews his food.





Chapter Thirteen





Mark





“Looking good, Montgomery,” Coach calls out from behind me, watching as I repeatedly hit the target on the practice net.

After I throw the last ball, he comes up beside me, radar gun in hand, and clamps his other hand down on my right shoulder. “Ninety-three miles per hour. I don’t know what you’ve been doing lately, but whatever it is, keep up the good work.”

I nod, thinking, Tell me something I don’t already know, as I slide my glove off my left hand. “I’ll be ready for Penn State. I’m not driving all the way up there to have Schultz outpitch me.”

“That’s what I like to hear, kid. Just make sure you do your conditioning. No more screwing around until after you sign on the dotted line of a contract. We only have a few more days until our game against Penn State. I got a phone call this morning, and scouts will be there.”

“Sweet. I’ll be ready, Coach.”

We walk toward the rest of the team, who are scattered around the gym, set up into stations and running different drills. With how shitty the weather has been, we’re still stuck inside. Coach stops to bend over and pick up a few of the baseballs from the floor, handing one of them to me with a smile. I haven’t had much of a male figure in my life, apart from Luca’s father, which makes Coach the second closest I’ve had to a father.

“Proud of you, kid.” Coach pats me on the back as I roll the ball in my palm, looking off into the gym and checking out the team. We look good this year and much better than last. “I remember when you first showed up to try out for the team. You were one cocky son of a bitch.” He laughs to himself. “Still are. And, now, you’re about to make it big. You’re not the first player I’ve coached who will make it to the majors, but you’re the most promising of them. Most of the guys who make it can’t hack it their first year.”

“I won’t be one of them, Coach.”

“No, you won’t.” His tone is confident, strong. “We just need to get you through this last season without any injuries. Go hit the weight room, and grab Matthews on your way there.”

I nod, clutching my glove at my side. “You got it.”

“Matthews,” I call out.

Chase Matthews turns around to face me.

“Let’s go!”