Chapter 27 #2
“I wasn’t happy to see anyone.” Ford exhales and hitches up his arm. “Fucking Romero.” Ford told me how Romero has returned to the team but not without some hatred from the fans. “But you aren’t in my bedroom to discuss Romero, right?”
“Wouldn’t dream of talking about him,” I tease.
“So what do you dream about?”
I’ve never been one who had difficulty expressing what I want sexually but for some reason I can’t seem to explain myself to Ford.
“You don’t want me to touch you,” Ford begins.
“I never said—”
“Then touch yourself and let me watch.”
Surprised, I stare at him a second, hands forming anxious fists at my sides. “You want me to put on a show for you?”
Ford lifts his good arm and crosses it behind his head. A mischievous grin curls his mouth. “Yep.”
“You want me to strip,” I flirt, grabbing one shoulder of my tank top and sliding it down my arm.
“Whatever you want, baby.”
After reaching for the other strap, I dramatically drag it off my shoulder and tip my head coquettishly. “Whatever I want?”
Ford slowly nods to answer my question. His eyes follow the way I trace my finger over the swell of my breast peeking over my tank top then draw around the curve of the other one. My breasts are still covered but my nipples are clearly outlined, sharp and erect, and pointing through my thin shirt.
“I’ll give you a show, but you can’t touch yourself. Not yet.” I want Ford to myself but first I want him so turned on he can’t think.
While Ford doesn’t verbally agree, his chest rises and falls once, a calming move while his gaze zigzags over my body. And Ford is looking at me like I lift the sun and sprinkle the night sky with stars.
Slowly, I turn around, giving him my back but looking at him over my shoulder.
I tease my shoulder strap up and down before leaving it lowered.
Spinning to face him, a sensual song comes to mind, something I’d been working on.
I seductively move, swinging my hips side to side before arching my back, emphasizing my breasts.
Crossing my hands over my chest, I drag them down incrementally.
My palms caressing over my aching swells, catching on hard nipples.
Cupping my tits, I pinch the stiff nips a second, before coasting down my belly to the apex of my legs.
While I’m lost in my head, I risk a glance at Ford.
His hand has dropped to his stomach, his palm flat on his hard abs. I give him a warning glare.
“Tell me, cowboy. Do you touch yourself and think about me?”
With my hands between my legs, I spread my thighs and lean forward, giving Ford a peep show of my breasts. Standing upright, I watch him as he slowly shakes his head.
He hasn’t jacked off to visions of me? The thought nearly stops my performance.
“Figured the real thing would be better.” His voice is strained. He swallows hard.
I step toward the bed and climb on it, straddling the lower portion of his legs.
On my knees, I run my hands across my belly once more and between my thighs again.
Slowly, I stroke over myself, pajama shorts saturated, folds swollen against the fabric.
Turning my head to the side, I raise one arm to hold up my hair while the other hand rubs circles against my clit.
Ford leans forward, reaching out for me but I arch in a way he can’t touch me. “Uh-uh-uh. You wanted a show, mister.”
Ford bites the side of his fist and sits back. The ice pack on his shoulder falls to the bed. “I want to see you.”
I tug the material to the side.
“No panties?” He groans. I hadn’t had any on the other night either.
“No panties,” I repeat, and the loose material of my shorts easily slips to the side, allowing Ford a view of what I’m doing to myself.
Ford spreads his lower legs, forcing my legs wider apart until I collapse backward. Seated on my backside, I lift my knees, my ankles on either side of Ford’s shins. My center is exposed and on perfect display for him.
“I can smell you from here.”
The statement shouldn’t be sexy. “And what do I smell like?”
“You belong with me.”
“Cowboy.” My breath hitches but I tell myself it’s only because I force a finger inward and then drag it back out, using the moisture to continue working myself. With Ford watching me, I’m lost in my head. His mouth on me. His fingers touching me. His tongue doing that thing and—
The release hits me hard and I drop my head back as my fingers still. The pulsing continues, though, and eventually, I clap my thighs together, riding out the wave.
Ford’s hand cups my ankle and slowly my eyes open to meet his. With a heavy breath, I ask, “So you never touched yourself thinking of me?”
“Didn’t want to disrespect you.”
I stare at him, not understanding.
“Figured lots of people whack off to a superstar. I was hoping the superstar would give me a private show instead.” He nods at my body.
I flip to my knees again, balancing on all fours over his legs. “And what if the superstar wants to take care of you?” I reach for the waistband of his shorts.
“Don’t tease me, princess.”
“Princess, huh? What happened to songbird?”
“You’re more like a siren, those mystical creatures causing sailors to leap into the sea. You’re going to be the death of me.” Staring at my hands on his waistband, he’s breathy, anxious maybe, desperate for me to follow through and please him.
I chuckle, scooting forward so I can tug his shorts to his hips, releasing what I didn’t get to see the other night.
Ford is long and thick, and my mouth waters as I stare at the tip, seeping with desire.
Curling my hand around his cock, I lower for the tip.
When I swirl my tongue around the crown, Ford hisses.
His breaths become more ragged, like he’s trying to control himself.
His hand comes to my hair, brushing it back before curling it around his fist.
“Been a long time. I’m afraid I’m not going to last.”
How long? I don’t ask. I only want Ford to remember me and our time together, so I open wide and draw him to the back of my throat.
“Oh, fuck.” His abs flinch. His other hand comes to my head.
Then, I’m working Ford like a candy stick, sucking and licking, and dragging him deep. My eyes water. Ford is bigger than I anticipated but I’m not a quitter. I draw him in until his hips are moving and he’s hissing apologies, but I take him until he can’t take anymore.
“Gonna come, baby.”
Three words, and he spills in my throat. I swallow him down until he’s releasing my hair. With a kiss to the tip of his dick, I release him.
Ford is pinching his eyelids when I glance at him. “You okay, cowboy?”
When he pulls his fingers back, I’ve never seen anything like the flames in his eyes. He starts scooting his body lower, sliding beneath me.
“What are you doing?”
“Fuck no touching. Get on my face.”
“Ford,” I gasp but he wedges himself below me.
“We aren’t stopping until you’ve hit second base and cross third.”
I giggle until I feel Ford’s finger press aside my silky shorts and his tongue unleashes on me once more. And this center fielder gets his homerun as I come two more times.