Chapter 22 Bennett
Bennett
Nothing humbled a catcher faster than a double-header in ninety-hundred-degree heat.
Thanks a heap, global warming.
For some guys, spring training was like summer camp—a month-long, hedonistic house party free of responsibility. For me, it was the quickest path to feeling like an arthritic eighty-year-old, an unpleasant side effect from squatting for hours on end.
I tucked a towel beneath my legs before propping myself up against the headboard and reaching for my phone. The ice packs strapped around each knee helped ease the pain. The extra-strength Tylenol would take an hour or so to kick in.
It wasn’t pretty, but it worked for me.
Even better, the rest of the guys sharing the condo would be out drowning their sorrows for the next few hours, leaving me plenty of time to rest and video chat with Bella.
Our calls had become another part of my routine as of late. The best part, in fact. We’d missed yesterday’s thanks to her trip to Awful—a town where apparently, cell service went to die—which made tonight’s feel even more necessary than usual.
By the time her face appeared on my screen, my knees were throbbing.
“I saw the cutest cows yesterday,” she said the second the call connected, eyes bright. Not hello or are your joints still attached to your skeleton? Just cows.
I smiled despite the pain. “That’s awesome, baby.”
She was already in her pajamas, a tiny pair of cotton sleep shorts and one of the shirts she had stolen from my closet. It was impossible not to notice the way her perfect tits bounced beneath the fabric with every animated gesture she made.
“You are not going to believe the size of Parker’s family farm.”
“How big are we talking?”
She held her hands up like she was about to describe a fish. “Huge. Like . . . acres? Many of them. I forgot the exact number, but it was a lot. And the cows. Gosh, I wanted to pet every single one.”
I let myself relax into the sound of her voice. “Did you?”
“Only two. Parker said some of them get nervous around strangers, and I didn’t want to be rude.” Her eyes sparkled with pride. “But it looks like they’re going to supply the milk for our skincare line.”
It was easy to forget the ice burning into my skin when she looked that happy. I’d give anything to keep her that way for the rest of our lives.
“You guys work fast.”
“Well, Parker does,” she corrected, pushing her hair behind her ear. “I mostly followed her around, taking notes and trying not to get in the way.”
“Hey, the honey is all yours,” I said. “She’s lucky to have you.”
She grinned. “Thank you.”
I shifted the ice packs, wincing. She noticed instantly.
“You’re hurting.”
“It’s fine,” I said. “Just a hazard of the trade. I’m okay.”
Her gaze softened, concerned but not hovering. She was gentle like that. “Are you sure?”
“Promise.” I paused. “It wasn’t our best day, though, so let’s not talk about the games. Tell me what you did today.”
“Oh.” She perked back up. “Well, I talked to two retailers who might be interested in our Bee Intimate line. One is that little eco-boutique in Longview, and the other—”
I cocked a brow when she hesitated.
“Yes?”
“It’s an . . . adult store in Portland.”
I blinked. “Like a sex shop?”
“Mm-hmm. They already sell a few edible body products, but they’re especially interested in stocking goods from queer and women-owned businesses.”
I tried—and failed—not to imagine Bella in a sex shop. Her curiosity, her cheeks warming, her fingers toying with things. The mental image shot straight through my body in a way the team’s physical therapist would definitely advise against.
“Have you ever been in a sex shop?” I asked, careful with my words.
She shrugged. “Sure, a few times.”
My eyebrows rose. “A few?”
She mistook my tone for casual interest instead of where I actually wanted this conversation to go.
“I was curious. It’s not just toys, you know. A lot of them have great resources about sensory stuff and relationships.” She tilted her head. “You should go sometime.”
“Maybe we could go together.”
I let a long beat pass, giving her all the opportunity to read between the lines. When her brows knit together, I knew she might need something more direct.
“Did you buy a toy during any of those visits?”
“Oh.” She sat back against her mountain of pillows. “Yes.”
“More than one?”
“Yes.”
Yes.
Just that, nothing more, nothing less. Like we were talking about whether she owned a slow cooker.
I wet my lips. “Tell me more.”
“They’re . . . useful.”
“Useful,” I echoed, fighting a smile. “What kind do you have?”
She opened her mouth like she was about to give me a detailed product comparison chart.
“On second thought,” I said slowly, lowering my voice. “What would you say to a little show-and-tell?”
She blinked. “You want to see my toy drawer?”
An entire drawer. Fuck. Leave it to my girl to go the extra mile with her sexual education.
This was going to be fun.
I shifted, the ice packs sliding a little. “Fuck yeah, I do. I want to see what you like when you get yourself off.”
Her cheeks went pink. Her eyes widened incrementally.
Fucking beautiful.
“I—” She pushed her hair behind her ear again, flustered. “Are you saying you want to have phone sex?”
“Yeah,” I murmured.
“Right now?”
“Preferably.”
Her breath caught, sugar-sweet and startled. “Oh my god. I can’t believe I didn’t realize that’s what you were hinting at.”
“That’s probably my fault for trying to be subtle.”
“I’m really bad at subtle.”
“But you’re fucking perfect at honest,” I said warmly. “So be honest, Bella. Do you want to get off with me?”
She swallowed, her gaze flicking down as if her body answered before her mouth did. “Yes,” she whispered. “I— I want that.”
My heart thudded once, deep. “Good girl,” I said. “Go get your favorite toy. We’ll save the rest of the drawer for next time.”
She hesitated, cheeks flaming. “Bennett—”
“Go get it, baby,” I repeated gently. “And then lie back down.”
She disappeared from the screen for a moment, the soft rustle of drawers and the faint clink of something plastic against wood filtering through the speakers. When she came back, she held up a sleek, curved vibrator in soft lavender silicone.
Nothing flashy or too intimidating. Not for my girl.
It was exactly the kind of thing I could picture her researching meticulously, reading every review before purchasing because it promised “gentle, consistent pressure.”
Because research is sexy.
She sat back against the pillows, a bit more hesitantly than before. Her fingers twisted in the hem of my stolen T-shirt.
“I’ve never done this,” she admitted, voice small but steady.
“You trust me?”
“Yes,” she said, barely missing a beat.
“We’ll go slow.” I kept my tone low, soothing. “You tell me what feels good, and I’ll talk you through it. Okay?”
She nodded, biting her lip. “Okay.”
I reached down and tugged the waistband of my sweats lower, just enough to free myself. My cock was already hard, aching from the sound of her voice. I wrapped my hand around the base and gave a slow stroke, letting her see.
Bella’s eyes went wide. “You’re so pretty like that,” she breathed.
I let out a rough laugh. “Pretty?”
“Uh-huh,” she said, completely serious. “The way the vein on the side stands out. And the head gets darker when you’re turned on. I love it.”
Jesus. She’d cataloged every detail of my cock the same way she did everything else.
“Strip, baby,” I begged. “Let me see you.”
She set the phone to the side, no doubt leaning it against whatever library books were piled high on her nightstand. I squeezed my cock again, groaning when she peeled the T-shirt over her head, revealing her soft belly and heavy tits.
Her nipples were already tight and flushed pink. She squirmed when her thumbs brushed over them.
“Shorts too,” I murmured.
She hooked her fingers in the waistband and shimmied them down her thighs. No panties. Just smooth skin and the soft triangle of dark curls between her legs, already glistening.
“Fuck.” I barely recognized my own voice, thick with need. “You’re so beautiful.”
She picked her phone up again and lay back.
“How do you want me to—”
“Just show me what you like.”
She reached for the vibrator, then paused. “I usually . . . start with my fingers. Work my way up to the toy.”
“Then use your fingers.”
She settled back against the pillows, knees falling open in a way that made something primal and reverent twist in my chest. One hand slid down her stomach, over her mound, and two fingers parted her folds. A soft, breathy sound escaped her when she brushed her clit.
“Yeah, just like that.” Her eyes flicked back to the camera. “Tell me how it feels.”
“Warm,” she whispered. “Wet. Really wet.” Her hips shifted as she chased her own touch. “I might’ve been thinking about you before you called.”
I stroked myself in the same slow rhythm, matching her. “I love seeing you like this. You’re so gorgeous when you let go for me.”
Her cheeks flushed deeper, but she didn’t look away.
“Only for you.”
My chest tightened, equal parts lust and something softer, fiercer.
“Good girl,” I rasped, stroking myself from root to tip, in the same rhythm.
She kept circling, her soft stomach rising and falling with each shaky breath. A whole world of curves and warmth and softness. Bella had the kind of body that deserved worship, and tonight, she was letting me see all of it.
“Okay, I’m ready for more.”
I nodded. “Go ahead. Grab your toy.”
She reached for the vibrator again, thumb brushing the button until it hummed to life on the lowest setting. The sound was soft, almost shy.
Just like her.
“Start on the outside,” I ordered. “Don’t push it inside you yet. I want to watch you tease yourself.”
She nodded, eyes locked on mine through the screen.
She trailed the buzzing tip along the crease of her thigh first, slow and shivering. Then lower, skating it over her outer pussy lips without quite touching where she needed it most.