Epilogue
ONE YEAR LATER
“You’re going to be late to practice,” I sighed happily, leaning back against Cash’s broad chest. His hands settled on my hips, helping me ride him in slow, deliberate strokes.
“We’ll be fast,” he said against my ear.
“The two of you have never been fast,” I moaned.
Sawyer crawled toward us on the bed, looking sated and happy. Cash and I had taken turns torturing Sawyer for an hour. Sucking his cock, teasing him with our tongues and fingers as he writhed on top of the sheets. Edging him until Cash had ordered him to come.
And he had, gloriously, looking so wicked and rumpled afterward I wondered, yet again, how I’d gotten so lucky.
“She’s right, you know,” Sawyer said. He rose up to draw my nipples between his lips, sending a spike of pleasure through me. “We don’t do quick.”
Cash grabbed Sawyer’s hand. Together, they both began rubbing my clit, Cash kissing my neck. Sawyer, swirling his tongue around my nipples and sucking harder.
“How could I ever be quick with the two of you?” Cash said. “I could lock us in here and fuck you for days and still want more.”
Waves of sensation rolled through me. Cash was jerking me up and down on his cock, and I couldn’t stop whining for him to go faster. Sawyer kissed down the entire length of my body. Then his tongue found my clit, lavishing my pussy as I took Cash deeper and deeper.
“Oh my god,” I panted. “Sawyer don’t stop…please.”
He sucked my clit between his lips with a moan. Cash’s breath was harsh in my ear and I knew he was close.
“Are you gonna come on this dick for us?” He growled. “Are you gonna show us what we fucking live for?”
“Yes, yes, yes, yes,” I chanted. Then he and I climaxed within seconds of each other, shuddering and gasping through a release that wouldn’t end. Sawyer brushed tears from my cheeks before kissing me.
“So, so beautiful,” he said. “You have no idea how lucky we are.”
I collapsed back onto the bed, wrung-out and grinning. “Right back atcha.”
He and Cash laughed, wiping me down and smoothing back my hair.
Authenticity. Once we leaned into it, everything became easier. We didn’t do anything specifically, really, except not be ashamed of who we were. Of our relationship. Of our all-consuming love.
For every person in the past year who didn’t support us, another ten people did. Slowly, positive reactions drowned out the rest.
Plus, it helped that Cash and Sawyer were having a hell of a second year. They continued to smash records and charm the crowd. The three of us traveled constantly for our careers—sometimes together, sometimes apart — which meant a quiet Sunday morning like this was used wisely.
We never did hear anything from Cash and Sawyer’s family or hometown. I liked to hope it meant they were starting to change for the better, although we’d never truly know. That was okay in the end though. Every single thing we’d been through had led us here, to this singular moment.
“Come to practice with us today, ace,” Sawyer said, tossing me a wink.
I laughed. “Maybe. Although I’m tempted just to stay in bed all day.”
“Here’s an idea,” Cash said, wrapping the two of us in his arms. “Bring your tape recorder. We can do an interview in the locker room for old time’s sake.”
We kissed for a long time after that – until I was shoving them out the door of our airy Philly condo before they were late to practice for the fourth day in a row.
On days like this I was convinced I was living in a vibrant erotic dream.
A dream where two men continually serviced me.
Pleased me. Made me laugh and held me at night.
Cooked me dinner and sent me wildflowers when I had a bad day.
Left me long, dirty voicemails when they were on the road.
Washed my hair in the shower and stayed up all night with me when I was on deadline.
And baseball always brought us back to one another. On the road and at home. During early-morning practices and late-night games.
I never grew tired of watching Cash and Sawyer on that field, embracing their passion, their joy, the simple pleasure of a well-loved game on a sweet summer day.
THE END