Chapter Ten #3
He reaches around me, pulling a bottle of soap from a little alcove in the shower wall. He lathers up his hands, the scent of cedar and citrus filling the steam, and turns me around to face him.
His eyes are soft now, all the fierce, commanding energy melting into fondness and affection.
He rubs his soapy hands over my chest, working the lather over my shoulders and down my stomach, washing away the sweat and the leftover mess from my climax.
His touch is gentle, his thumbs swiping over my collarbones, his palms smoothing down my sides.
I won’t complain about being spoiled like this.
I take the bottle from him, squirting a dollop of soap into my own hands, and wash his chest in return.
I drag my slippery hands over his pecs and down the hard ridges of his abs, cleaning the sweat off his skin.
We stand there under the spray, washing each other quietly, the empty locker room fading away around us.
Aiden steps back to rinse off, dragging his hands through his wet hair. He looks at me, water dripping from his eyelashes, a soft, satisfied smile curving his lips.
“You sure you don’t want to come to practice with me every day?” he teases, turning the shower dial off.
I laugh, grabbing a towel from the stack by the door. “If that’s the cool-down routine, you’re never getting rid of me.”
We ride the elevator up to the penthouse in comfortable silence, the vibration of the Camaro’s engine still buzzing in my chest. I’m feeling good, riding the lingering high of the locker room shower and the adrenaline from the batting cage drills.
We walk into the apartment, the door beeping as it unlocks.
Ash sits alone at the sprawling kitchen island with a spread of takeout sushi cartons open in front of him, chopsticks in hand.
He’s shed his suit jacket and tie, his white button-down unfastened at the collar with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows.
He looks up when the door chimes, an easy, welcoming smile spreading across his face.
“Look who decided to show up,” Ash says, his brown eyes crinkling at the corners.
“You’re eating without us?” Aiden drops his keys onto the counter and wanders over to the fridge, pulling out a couple of beers.
“You didn’t text me to say you were on your way,” Ash points out. He pushes a container of spicy tuna rolls toward the empty barstools. “Grab a seat. There’s plenty.”
I slide onto the stool next to Ash, feeling that familiar, warm flutter in my chest when he bumps his shoulder affectionately against mine.
Aiden pops the cap off his beer and leans his hip against the counter opposite us, snagging a piece of sashimi with his fingers before Ash can smack his hand away.
“Jax has a hell of a swing,” Aiden announces, chewing and swallowing. He takes a long pull from his bottle. “You should’ve seen him. Stepped into the cage and started launching line drives like he’s been playing in the minors for years.”
“I wasn’t that good,” I protest, feeling my face heat up. I grab a pair of disposable chopsticks and peel the wrapper off. “It was mostly luck.”
“Bullshit,” Aiden says, pointing the neck of his beer bottle at me. “I barely had to correct his stance. He crushed a fastball into the back netting and nearly took Miller’s head off in the process. The guys were hyping him up the whole time.”
Ash laughs, turning to look at me with delight. “Is that so? We’ve got a secret athlete living on our couch?”
“He’s exaggerating,” I say, nudging Ash’s arm. I pop a California roll into my mouth, chewing quickly so I can defend myself. “I swung wild on the first one and missed by a mile. They were laughing at me until Aiden showed me how to correct my hands to the bat.”
“Hey, coaching is part of the job,” Aiden shoots back with a wicked, teasing grin. “I had to make sure you knew how to handle your equipment.”
The double meaning hangs in the air, obvious and loaded.
Ash laughs, shaking his head as he reaches for his water glass.
The banter flows easily between the three of us while we finish off the leftover sushi.
It feels so domestic, just hanging out in the kitchen, trading jokes and stories.
I don’t feel like a stranger anymore. I’m just part of the space they occupy.
Once the containers are empty, we toss the trash and wipe down the countertops.
The casual energy in the room starts to shift, humming with a different kind of tension.
I know the schedule. Tonight is Ash’s night.
The thought sends a thrill of nervous excitement through me.
I enjoyed getting tossed around and fucked raw by Aiden in the locker room showers, but I’m also craving the careful, attentive way Ash puts his hands on me.
Ash dries his hands on a kitchen towel and tosses it over the sink. He catches my eye, giving me a soft, knowing look.
“You ready?” Ash asks, his voice dropping.
“Yeah,” I say, my breath hitching a little.
Ash smiles and turns, heading down the hallway toward his bedroom. I push off the counter, turning to follow him.
I don’t make it two steps.
Aiden’s hand shoots out, his long fingers wrapping tight around my wrist. He doesn’t yank me, but the grip halts my momentum. He pulls me backward. I stumble on my feet, spinning around, and collide with his chest.
His hand slides to the back of my neck, his fingers tangling in my hair to hold my head in place.
He brings his mouth down on mine in a dirty, wet kiss, full of heat and sudden demand.
He parts my lips and pushes his tongue inside, sweeps my mouth in a slow, claiming slide, groaning when I automatically part my teeth to let him in deeper.
My pulse skyrockets. I brace my hands against his waist to steady myself, kissing him back, my body eager and responsive. He kisses me like he owns my mouth, dominating the exchange, making sure I don’t forget whose cock I was coming on a few hours ago.
He pulls back just a fraction, his lips brushing against mine as he breathes. His other hand drops down, cupping my ass. He pinches the meat of my cheek in a sharp, stinging squeeze that makes me gasp into his mouth.
“Can’t wait to get your sweet ass back in my bed,” Aiden murmurs against my jaw.
Heat rushes up my neck, a flush spreading across my cheeks. My cock stirs in my jeans, swelling hard against the zipper. Aiden smirks, his dark eyes flashing with satisfaction, and lets go of my waist.
He steps back, grabbing his beer from the counter like he didn’t just scramble my brains, and tips an imaginary hat to me.
I swallow hard, my heart hammering against my ribs, and hurry down the hallway after Ash.
I touch my bruised lower lip as I walk down the hall, my skin burning from the flush Aiden put there. I push Ash’s bedroom door open and step inside, letting it click shut behind me.
Ash is waiting by the bed. He ditched his work clothes while I was getting ambushed in the kitchen, swapping his slacks and button-down for a pair of soft gray sweatpants that hang loose around his hips.
He stands barefoot on the rug, his blonde hair slightly messy from running his hands through it.
He turns when he hears the door close and catches the look on my face. A slow, knowing smile spreads across his mouth, his eyes sparking.
“Look at you,” Ash teases, walking over to me. He reaches out, tracing a thumb over my blazing cheekbone. “Got some color in your cheeks. What did Aiden say to get you so flustered out there?”
“He’s a menace,” I mutter, though I can’t stop the sheepish grin from breaking across my face.
“I know he is,” Ash murmurs. His gaze drops to my mouth, and the teasing glint in his eyes gives way to a darker look.
He doesn’t wait for me to say anything else.
He steps into my space, wrapping his arms around my waist, and pulls me against his chest. He kisses me, a softer, warmer touch than Aiden’s aggressive claim, but there’s a clear, hungry intent behind it.
Ash parts my lips with a slide of his tongue, tasting me, coaxing a soft sigh out of my throat.
I melt into him, wrapping my arms around his neck, my fingers sliding into the soft strands of his hair, his mouth hot and eager against mine.
He walks me backward toward the bed, kissing me the whole time. My calves hit the mattress and I tumble backward, sinking into the plush duvet. Ash follows me down, climbing over my legs and pinning me into the sheets. He hovers over me, one knee planted beside my thigh, his chest brushing mine.
His hand drops to my waistband. He pops the button on my jeans and slides his palm past my zipper, his warm fingers dipping beneath the elastic of my underwear. He cups my balls, his thumb tracing the sensitive skin between my legs, sliding back to graze the cleft of my ass.
“Did Aiden clean you out?” Ash asks, his breath ghosting over my wet lips.
I nod, my hips tilting up into his palm. “Yeah. In the showers.”
Ash groans, a rough, appreciative sound that vibrates against my jaw. “Good. Because I’m in a hurry tonight.”
That eager, impatient energy surprises me.
Ash is usually so patient, taking his time to warm me up and stretch me out, but tonight he acts like he’s starved for me.
He pulls his hand from my pants and grips my waistband, yanking my jeans and boxers down my legs.
I lift my hips to help him, kicking my clothes onto the floor.
Ash strips his sweatpants off just as fast, tossing them aside.
He grabs a bottle of lube from the nightstand, coats his cock in a few quick strokes, and settles back over me. He guides himself to my hole and pushes in without much more fumbling.
I gasp, my fingers digging into his shoulders. He doesn’t ease in a little at a time; he slides in deep, a fluid, continuous push that fills me up in seconds. The stretch burns for a fleeting moment before it blooms into hot pleasure.