Chapter 64 Distractions Ruin Dreams #2
I move until I feel Drew at my core and slide my hips down over the head of his dick, then back up, then a little down.
I set a rhythm of sliding my body up and down him until he’s fully inside me and I’m sitting on his lap completely.
He’s been touching and kissing me while I drive our passion.
But the moment I’m sitting with him inside me, we both open our eyes and connect.
I roll my hips, and his flutter shut again with a groan of “Annie” on his lips.
It’s powerful being in control of his body, of his lust, and I do it again, earning an “Angel” from his swollen lips.
I can’t help myself; I capture his lips in mine, and his hands wrap into my hair at the base of my neck.
I move my body up and down him in a blinding, pounding rhythm.
I catch fire and explode, moaning his name into his mouth, and he captures all that I have to give.
At some point, Drew starts bucking his hips into me while I still slide myself against him, around him, and the tempo shifts and grows.
At one point, I can’t even understand where he starts and I begin—we feel so connected that it's all the same. There is no beginning or end, we are one. And I know the moment Drew cums because he groans “Annie” into the room and captures me in an all-consuming kiss. At some point, I get fully undressed, the last pieces of the lingerie removed, and fall asleep on Drew’s bare chest, body spent and mind and soul bone-crushingly happy.
***
I wake up the next day to the buzzing of a phone.
I’m still snuggled into a warm body, and I have no interest in worrying about the phone, but the warm body that is my pillow moves, and I can see from my half-open eyes as Drew’s hand reaches out and picks up the phone.
“I have to take this, Angel,” he says but doesn’t move out of the bed.
“Hello?” I can hear that it is a female voice, but I can’t make out what she is saying, “Yeah, Pam, I can make it in today. Yeah, 2 p.m. works for me. Oh, Pam, would it be a problem if I come early and show my girlfriend the ballpark, like the locker room and stuff? Great, thank you.” He ends the call and sets the phone down before speaking.
“So, Coach wants to talk to me. I’m sorry, Angel, I know we thought we’d have the whole day, but—” I cut him off.
He has to go talk to his coach: if I wasn’t here, he’d feel no guilt about changing the plans for his off day.
“Drew, I get it, you don’t have to explain.
What did I hear about a private tour?” I change the subject, and he smiles.
“Yeah, Pam said that I could walk you around the facility behind the scenes. I can even take you to see my locker and stuff if you want before we go.” “I’ve never had a private tour of a ballpark from one of my favorite players…
Count me in,” I say and reach up to kiss him.
***
The private tour has been special. Drew stops and talks to the office staff and coaches we run into and introduces me to all of them.
I can tell that he is well-liked, and he loves it here.
I get a walk-through of where he eats and takes meetings before we head out to the ballpark.
He takes me out to the dugout steps and onto the field.
Before I can take it all in, he takes my hand and leads me to the shortstop position, his position in the infield.
I spin around and take in his view. There are the obvious things on the field: the pitcher's mound, the home plate, the netting behind to protect the fans. There are so many seats, and from this view, he can see so many people, and their reactions—good or bad, fan or rival—would all be in view. “What do you think so far, Angel?” he says, standing closer to second base than to me. “I think you have the best view in the place,” I say, still looking out over the stands. “I know I do now,” he says for a second, and I look over to find him looking at me and not the ballpark. I can’t help my smile.
“What’s next?” He takes my hand and walks me to home base, then he leads me to the box.
I make a show of pointing to the far fence before acting like I’m in position to take a swing at an imaginary ball.
Drew laughs and slides in behind my back.
“I think your elbow should be here to get the best swing.” He checks my imaginary bat, then points out in the direction of the fence.
“Now you're ready to hit that home run, Angel.” I take my imaginary swing, but instead of taking off for first, I spin in his arms and lean up to kiss him.
“Home run,” I say against his lips. “Without a doubt, Angel,” he says back, and we wrap our hands together as we head back in the direction of the dugout and locker room to finish our tour.
***
The locker room is what I would expect, and it’s nice to know now where he is when he calls or texts me after a game.
He doesn’t have a lot of pictures, but the ones he has are all recent.
One of our friends together after State, him and his parents at State, and one of us from the draft night, with him beaming in his new Arizona hat.
As we head out into the hall, we run into another coach, but this isn’t any coach—this is the head coach, and Drew makes the standard introductions.
“Davis, you open now to have that conversation? We can start early, I know it’s your off day.
” Drew looks at me, and before he speaks, I say, “I am fine—I remember the way back to Pam’s office, just down the hall and to the left, right?
” “You got it,” the Coach says. “You sure?” Drew asks with a little pinch in between his eyebrows. “
Completely, you two have your meeting.” I move from his side and start to walk down the hall.
I can hear their conversation start in the hallway, carrying their voices around the space.
“Son, is she the reason you played like you did yesterday? Are you distracted?” I almost flinch as I keep walking.
“No, sir, it was a coincidence that she happened to be here when I sucked yesterday,” Drew replies.
“Davis, you can’t have distractions like that, not now.
You need to show up every game: the organization has high hopes for you.
Before yesterday’s game, I had a call with the Class A coach and he’s looking forward to having you join them next year, but you can’t afford more performances like that.
” I reach the point in the hall where their voices are lost, and I blindly make my way to the secretary’s desk.
She offers me a seat, and I take it and sit in a daze.
I’m a distraction. His coach thinks I’m distracting Drew, and that I could cost him the next opportunity.
My mind spirals and spirals over the next thirty minutes, and then I know what I have to do, what has to happen.
I already feel like throwing up, but I make my fingers move on my phone, setting my horrible plan into motion.
***
When Drew joins me in the office, he isn’t as happy as he was on the field, but he isn’t walking like he just heard his future was on the line.
He must be putting on a show for me is all I can think.
We get to the apartment, and Perez and a few of the guys are over.
I tell Drew to stay and talk with his friends when I move towards his room.
When I’m in the space of his empty room, I take a deep breath, and when I open my eyes, I make myself move around his room, finding all of my things and packing them in my suitcase.
I have to stop a few times, the tears I’m holding in burning my eyes, and the pain in my chest making me feel like I can’t breathe.
I have to, I chant in my head. I’m zipping my bag when I hear the door open.
Drew looks at me with my bag and yells over his shoulder that they can leave without us, and then he shuts the door.
“Annie, why are you packing?” he asks with a confused expression. “You don’t leave until tomorrow.”