Chapter Thirty-three
Razor awoke facedown on the mattress. She felt the warmth of the sun on her back.
A little wiggle confirmed that she was bare except for the sheet bunching around her hips.
She smiled and pushed herself up on her arms, groaning at the soreness in her back and triceps.
That was going to be fun to deal with at practice that afternoon.
They’d awoken somewhere around midnight, scavenging for any kind of food source to replenish their stamina. Appetites appeased by nutrition gave way to appetites of another kind taking precedence and forgoing sleep until just before dawn.
Razor flopped back down and rolled gingerly onto her back.
She giggled as she reached across the space, not surprised when she encountered nothing, but still a little disappointed.
Her eyes opened when she heard the loud clang of pots and pans somewhere down the hall.
She pulled on her discarded T-shirt and boy shorts and, once she’d regained her balance, went to investigate.
She rounded the corner and smiled at the bright blue robe covering the beautiful woman she’d explored moments earlier.
The robe stretched taut over Ashton’s glorious ass, and Razor bit her lip, wondering if she was naked underneath.
The cabinet door slammed shut, and Ashton braced her hands on the counter in a huff.
Razor chuckled then wrapped Ashton up in her arms from behind.
Ashton gasped, then melted back, running a hand through Razor’s hair, humming.
“Good morning.”
“Good morning.” Razor placed a series of light kisses along the column of her throat. “You seem upset about something.”
Ashton arched her neck and granted Razor more access. “I don’t have anything for breakfast.”
Razor nipped her ear and was rewarded with a whimper.
“And…with practice today, after all we did last night, you need the sustenance.” Ashton’s struggle to speak was mildly amusing to Razor as she sucked on her pulse point.
“I have all the sustenance I need right here in my arms.”
Ashton groaned again, whether in irritation or surrender, Razor didn’t know. Honestly, she didn’t care.
“As much as I’m enjoying this…oh God…” All speech left Ashton when Razor untied the belt on her robe and massaged her breast. “As amazing as this is”—she tried again—“you need to save your stamina.”
Razor hummed but didn’t let up on her assault. She moved her free hand down Ashton’s body, pushing the edge of the robe up and rubbing light circles around her clit. Ashton hissed and tightened her grip on the back of Razor’s head.
“Don’t you worry about my stamina. I have enough in reserve to make it through practice and”—she blew on Ashton’s ear—“continue our activities from last night.”
A moan was her only reply.
“As for nourishment, you’re right, we should eat something.” She spun Ashton around and lifted her up on the counter. “Can I start with you?”
Razor crashed their lips together, releasing her own moan with Ashton’s legs wrapped around her waist. They lingered in that space, that moment where everything was right, tasting, devouring, without apology.
Razor quickly divested Ashton of the robe, allowing it to pool around her waist. Ashton insistently pulled at Razor’s T-shirt until she ripped it over her head and tossed it on the floor.
She plundered Ashton’s neck with renewed vigor.
Fingernails dug into Razor’s back. Hot, wet lips bit, sucked, and kissed across her shoulder as strong thighs squeezed her waist. Razor trailed her mouth across Ashton’s chest and took a hard nipple in her mouth.
The cries of pleasure spurred her on as she pulled Ashton close to the edge without falling over.
Ashton’s scratches turned into soothing swipes.
But Razor didn’t want to be soothed. She wanted carnality. And she knew how to get it.
Ashton leaned her head back against the cabinet as Razor planted open-mouthed kisses down her abdomen.
Her legs loosened, and Razor moved lower, blowing hot breaths on her inner thighs.
She felt Ashton’s shudder right before she plunged her mouth into the glistening folds and took all that was offered.
Razor moved her tongue expertly, tasting Ashton’s essence, quickening her pace when hands tightened on the back of her head.
She glanced up, and her heart swelled at the sight of Ashton’s eyes closed, Ashton gasping for air.
It was glorious, so she redoubled her efforts.
She wrapped her arms around Ashton’s thighs, placed open-mouthed kisses on her clit, sucking then releasing, spurred on by the vocal commands coming from above.
Nails dug into her scalp. Razor tightened her grip and sucked hard to the point of pain.
A loud cry and a scrape of nails made Razor groan in satisfaction as fluids gushed all over her face.
Slowly, carefully, she lapped up the juices, easing Ashton back from the physical and emotional edge.
When Ashton’s breathing evened out, Razor wiped her chin and kissed Ashton, her tongue probing deeply to allow her a taste.
When they pulled apart, both their stomachs grumbled, and they burst out laughing.
“I guess I am hungry,” Razor quipped.
“I guess so. How about we go out for breakfast?”
“Do we have to?”
“Based on what just happened, do you really trust we’ll answer the door for food delivery?”
Razor laughed and planted a light kiss on her forehead. “Good point.”
She backed away to allow Ashton to pull on her robe and slide off the counter.
“How about we get cleaned up, and we’ll make a quick run to The Edge for their coffee and breakfast sandwiches,” Ashton offered.
“Sounds great.”
She moved past, then turned with a smile.
“Want to shower together?”
A groan escaped Razor’s mouth as she stalked toward her.
“I thought you’d never ask.”
* * *
By the time they’d showered and dressed, it was closer to lunch than breakfast. Which also put it close to practice, and it meant Ashton couldn’t test Razor’s stamina like she’d envisioned.
Razor was on fire during practice, executing drills to perfection, never hesitating with a throw or catch.
The only sign that the previous night’s marathon affected her was when Razor shook her arms out to stave off the soreness Ashton knew she was trying to hide.
Ashton managed to keep from laughing every time.
When Courtney called it for the day, Razor’s intensity transitioned into something more intimate. The gleam in Razor’s eye, the coy smile on her lips, told Ashton all she needed. And she didn’t hesitate in inviting Razor back to her place.
This time, Ashton made certain Razor was properly fed.
They discussed the season as a whole—where they started, where they were now—all leading up to the final series that coming weekend.
The series that would decide whether they continued playing after Saturday.
While the conversation felt easy and reflective, Ashton noticed a dimness in Razor’s eyes as they cleared the dishes, and Razor immediately filled the sink to wash them.
Maybe Razor had been more affected by their conversation than Aston had anticipated.
Ashton leaned against the counter and observed in total confusion. “Those can wait until tomorrow.”
Razor deposited a plate in the drying rack, then drew out a drinking glass from the soapy water, swiping it generously with the sponge. “It’s the least I can do, considering what I did to you on this counter mere hours ago.”
Ashton felt her face flame. “Hmm. Does this mean you’re going to wash my bedsheets next?”
Razor glanced over her shoulder and waggled her eyebrows, then placed the glass next to the plate. Ashton gave a playful slap on her shoulder, then wrapped her arms around Razor from behind. The hands in the suds stopped, and Razor let out a slow breath.
“While your domestic side is incredibly sexy,” Ashton said, “I can’t help but think something is on your mind.”
Razor pulled the plug on the drain. “Why would you think that?”
“Because I already have a dishwasher.” She reached down and pulled on a stainless steel door. “But I will admit, this new model is a lot sexier.”
A blush crept up Razor’s face. She rinsed the sink out and grabbed a dish towel, then turned in Ashton’s embrace and planted a light kiss on her lips.
She deposited the dish towel on the counter, clasped Ashton’s hand, and led her to the living room, to the championship photo on the mantel of them with their team.
“I’m nervous about this weekend.”
Ashton wanted to ask why, but Razor obviously had something to say, so she was going to let her say it.
“These girls have worked so hard to get here. I’ve watched them grow into a team, and depending on how this series goes, it may be…”
Razor choked on a sob.
“The last time you play with them,” Ashton finished.
“It’s ridiculous. I know. I mean, I feel ready to move on. I fulfilled my goal, but being out there today, knowing it’s my last moments with this group, knowing how far they still have to go—I worry I didn’t do enough. That I didn’t give them the tools they’ll need to win a championship.”
Ashton slid her arms around Razor’s neck and laid her head on her shoulder. They stared at the picture of smiling faces in midcheer, and Ashton knew how to put Razor’s mind at ease.
“Do you remember how we won the championship?”
“Of course. Game three of the World Series. You pitched a shutout into the fifth, then Courtney came in relief in the sixth. Thanks to a couple of two-run homers, we were able to take the lead early and hold on for a six–two victory.”
Ashton shook her head. “That wasn’t when we won the championship.” Razor looked at her in disbelief. “That’s how we won the third game that made it official, but we won the championship in the second game.”
“I don’t understand,” Razor said confused.
“We were down two runs in the seventh. Two on, two outs, and Geoff told you to get up and pinch-hit for Stella. A lot of us thought we were going to lose right then and there. You didn’t. You came off the bench cold and hit a three-run homer to walk it off and push us to a rubber match.”
“What’s your point?”
“I knew after that hit, we were going to win the championship. You came up clutch when no one, me included, had much faith in you. But you delivered. You changed the entire mentality of our team, and we knew we were going to win. You showed us with that one hit that we had something to fight for.”
She clasped Razor’s face and smiled. “No matter what happens this weekend, you have made a difference. You’ve shown them how to win. You’ve changed their entire mentality of how they approach the game. You came up clutch for them. And I guarantee, they will remember you and what you did for years.”
Razor smiled and kissed Ashton. Hard.
“Thank you.”
“My pleasure.”
Ashton melded their mouths together in a kiss born of self-confidence, knowing that whatever might come, they had won.