9. Bash
Chapter Nine
BASH
I arrange the final candlestick on the polished oak bar, stepping back to survey my handiwork.
The Silver Coop gleams, soft light illuminating the framed photos and memorabilia adorning the walls. Everything has to be perfect for her arrival.
The door creaks open behind me, and I spin around, my breath catching.
Melissa glides in wearing a flowing lavender sundress that hugs her lush curves in all the right places. The fabric sways around her long, tanned legs as she walks towards me, a warm smile curving her plump, pink lips.
“Hey there, slugger,” she purrs, hazel eyes sparkling with mischief. “I was promised dinner and a show?”
I close the distance between us in two long strides, wrapping an arm around her slim waist and tugging her close. She gasps softly, her hands coming up to rest on my chest. I can feel the heat of her touch through my thin t-shirt.
“Oh, I’ll give you a show, alright,” I growl playfully, capturing her mouth in a searing kiss.
Melissa melts against me instantly, lips parting as she kisses me back.
Fuck, I’ve been dreaming about this moment all day.
We finally break apart, both breathing hard. I drink in the sight of her - cheeks flushed, lips swollen, desire darkening her stunning eyes. My cock throbs almost painfully, straining against my jeans. But I force myself to focus. Plenty of time for that later.
Tonight is about romancing my woman the way she deserves.
“You look beautiful, baby,” I murmur, tucking a stray curl behind her ear. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
“Me too,” she whispers, tracing my stubbled jaw with her fingertips. “I couldn’t wait to see you. To see the place you’ve poured your heart into.”
I lace our fingers together, bringing her hand to my lips and softly kissing her knuckles. “Come on, let me give you the grand tour before dinner. I want to show you everything.”
Although Melissa has been here for the last few days, I’ve held off on bringing her to the Silver Coop.
I wanted everything to be absolutely flawless before she laid eyes on it - the decor, the ambiance, the menu. I even closed the entire bar down today. I needed it to live up to the vision I described to her over our long phone calls.
“Well, what do you think?” I ask, nerves fluttering in my gut as I gesture around the space. “Does it match the picture I painted in that overactive imagination of yours?”
Melissa steps out of my embrace, moving further into the bar.
Her gaze roams over the polished mahogany, the vintage baseball prints, the gleaming bottles lining the shelves behind the bar. I watch her take it all in, holding my breath.
“Bash, this place is incredible,” she gushes, running her hand along the gleaming wood. “I can’t believe you did all this yourself.”
“Well, I had some help,” I admit with a grin. “But yeah, it’s been a labor of love. Somewhere I could make my own, you know?”
She nods, understanding shining in her eyes. “I get that. It suits you perfectly.”
She stops in front of a large black and white photo of me mid-pitch, Guardians jersey stretched tight across my shoulders.
“I remember this game,” she murmurs, fingertips grazing the glass. “It was the night you threw that perfect game against the Red Sox. Gosh, you were incredible to watch.”
I quirk an eyebrow at her. “You remember that game?”
“I remember all of them. I watched every single one of your games,” Melissa confesses softly. “Even when I told everyone I hated you. I never missed one.”
Emotion clogs my throat. Fuck, even when she hated my guts, she still cared. Still supported me in her own way. I swallow hard.
“I wish I had known that back then,” I rasp. “It would have meant the world to me.”
“Well, you know now,” she says simply, squeezing my hand.
I lead her towards the back of the bar, to a small nook I’ve been saving for last. It’s a framed photo of us sitting in the library during one of our tutoring sessions, looking young and bright-eyed and so damn hopeful.
“You kept this? All this time?” Melissa whispers, fingers hovering over the glass reverently.
“Of course I did,” I murmur, wrapping my arms around her from behind and propping my chin on her shoulder. “It’s my favorite picture of us. Of you.”
I’ve carried that picture with me for years, through every up and down. A reminder of what I lost. What I’m determined to win back.
She turns in my embrace, looping her arms around my neck. Her eyes are suspiciously shiny.
“I don’t know what to say,” she breathes.
“You don’t have to say anything,” I assure her, cupping her face tenderly. “Just let me show you how much you mean to me, starting with dinner.”
I take her hand and lead her upstairs to the deck, anticipation buzzing through my veins. When we step outside, Melissa gasps. A table set for two awaits, complete with flickering candles and a single red rose in a delicate vase.
“Oh, Bash... it’s perfect,” she breathes, wonder shining in her eyes as she takes it all in. “You did this for me?”
“Of course I did, baby,” I reply gruffly, my throat tightening with emotion. I’d do anything for you. You know that.”
She blinks rapidly, and I realize she’s fighting back tears.
Ah hell. The last thing I want is to make her cry, even happy tears. I pull her into my arms, nuzzling her temple. “Hey now, none of that. Tonight’s about making new memories, baby. Not dwelling on the old ones.”
Melissa nods against my chest before tilting her head back to meet my gaze. “You’re right. I’m just overwhelmed. In the best possible way.”
I pull her chair out and she settles into it, her dress riding up to reveal a tantalizing stretch of toned thigh. Then I pour us each a glass of her favorite Moscato before taking my seat across from her.
“Did you cook this yourself?” she asks, eyeing the spread appreciatively.
“You know it, babe. Nothing but the best for my girl.”
I lift the silver dome with a flourish, revealing a steaming plate of spaghetti Bolognese. Melissa’s eyes widen.
“Aw, I can’t believe you remembered. You know spaghetti Bolognese is my favorite.”
“I remember everything about you, Melissa,” I reply seriously, holding her gaze. “Every single detail.”
We tuck into our food, rich flavors exploding on my tongue.
“You know, I really think I’m start to like this town,” Melissa admits as she twirls pasta around her fork. “I like the slower pace and the friendly faces. It’s a nice change from the grind back home.”
My eyes flick up to meet hers. “Move here with me.”
Her fork clatters against the plate, and her eyes fly to mine. “What? Bash, we just started dating.”
“So?”
“So, that’s crazy!”
I reach across the table and take her hands in mine, rubbing my thumbs across her knuckles. “Is it? I love you, Melissa. I’m so damn sorry it took me this long to man up and admit it. I was an idiot in high school. A coward. I cared way too much about what everyone else thought. But I never stopped loving you. Never.”
A tear tracks down her cheek, and I swipe it away with my thumb. She leans into my touch, eyes fluttering closed. “I love you too,” she whispers. “I always have. But this is... it’s a lot, Bash. I have a life in Houston—my family, my friends.”
“I know it’s a big decision,” I assure her quickly, not wanting to spook her. “I’m not asking for an answer tonight. I just want you to know that I’m all in. Completely. You’re it for me. My endgame.”
Her eyes shimmer with emotion. “I just need a little time to think it through, to be sure.”
I nod. “Of course, baby. Take all the time you need. I’m not going anywhere.”
After dinner, I reach for Melissa’s hand and pull her to her feet. “Dance with me,” I murmur, tugging her close.
She comes willingly, melting against my chest as I sway us gently to the soft music drifting from inside. Her hair tickles my chin, the scent of her perfume wrapping around me like a seductive cloud. I bury my nose in her neck, brushing a kiss against her racing pulse.
“You feel so good,” I groan, splaying my hands across her lower back possessively. “I’ve been dreaming about holding you like this all day.”
Melissa hums, pressing even closer. I can feel every lush curve, every delicious swell. My body responds instantly, growing hard and heavy. She has to feel it too, the evidence of how badly I want her. How much I crave her.
“Bash,” she breathes, and the needy rasp in her voice nearly undoes me.
I walk us backward until her ass hits the railing, caging her in with my arms. Her eyes darken with desire, her pink tongue darting out to wet her lips. I track the movement hungrily before swooping down to capture her mouth with my own.
The kiss is hot and deep and messy, all clashing teeth and tangling tongues.
Melissa whimpers, fisting her hands in my hair as she arches into me wantonly. I wedge a thigh between her legs, groaning at the scorching heat I find there. She grinds down, seeking friction, and pleasure sparks up my spine.
“Need you,” I pant against her lips. “Right fucking now.”
Melissa mewls her agreement, and I hoist her up, encouraging her to wrap those gorgeous legs around my waist.
Then I carry her back inside the empty bar and set her on the edge of the pool table, shoving her dress up around her hips.
Jesus fuck. She’s not wearing panties.
My control snaps.
In a second, I flip her over so she’s bent over the pool table on her tiptoes with her bare ass cheek in the air.
I palm each one, squeezing the supple flesh and reveling in the way she pushes back against my hands, seeking more.
“Fuck, Melissa, you drive me wild,” I growl, landing a light smack on her right cheek. She gasps and wiggles her hips. My little minx loves the sting.
I run my fingers through her slick folds, groaning at how wet she is already. “And always so ready for me, aren’t you, baby? Such a good girl.”
“Am I?” she pants, grinding back against my touch. “I wore this dress just so you would fuck me in it.”
I unzip my jeans and pull my dick out, giving it a few rough strokes. Then I notch the swollen head at her entrance, rubbing it up and down, coating myself in her arousal. We both moan at the delicious friction.
With one smooth thrust, I bury myself balls deep.
“Goddamn, baby,” I groan, my eyes nearly rolling back at how good she feels wrapped around me. Hot and slick and gripping me like a vice.
I start pumping my hips, setting a hard, driving rhythm that has the pool table creaking beneath us.
Melissa meets me thrust for thrust, her ass jiggling deliciously with every impact. I dig my fingers into her hips hard enough to leave marks.
Mine.
“That’s it, take my cock,” I praise, angling my thrusts to hit that spot deep inside her that makes her scream. “Gonna fill this sweet little cunt up. Mark you from the inside out.”
“Please, Bash!” Melissa chants, pushing back against me frantically. “Harder!”
I comply with a snarl, pistoning into her with brutal force. Our skin slaps together obscenely, the filthy sound echoing through the empty bar along with our escalating moans and grunts.
“Play with your clit,” I command, voice ragged. “Make yourself come on my cock like a good girl.”
Melissa obeys instantly, snaking a hand between her legs. I feel her fingers brush my shaft as I drill into her, and it makes my balls draw up tight.
“Bash! Oh god, I’m coming!” she wails moments later, her pussy clamping down on me rhythmically as her orgasm crashes through her.
The rippling pressure is my undoing.
“Fuck, Melissa, yes!”
Then I slam home one last time with a roar.