Chapter 20
GABE
I get wrapped up in work and before I know it, it’s already been a week since I’ve seen Layla’s gorgeous face.
I want to FaceTime her and tease her some more, but I have to get on a plane and head to Florida for Spring Training.
This time of year is always a whirlwind.
And speaking of Layla, I haven’t heard from her in a few days.
Gabe: Miss your pretty face. Everything okay?
Layla: Oh! Yes. Just busy. This current project has sucked me in deep.
Gabe: You work too hard. But I totally understand. This time of year, for me, is a complete whirlwind. I get lost in meetings and have to start getting back into the groove with the team, and time just flies right by.
Layla: When do you leave for Spring Training?
Gabe: Tomorrow.
Layla: Wow. Already.
Gabe: I know. Every single year, it sneaks up on me.
Layla: I know the feeling.
Gabe: Hey, I need to go.
Layla: Okay.
Gabe:
After texting with Layla, I rub my chest, right over my heart.
I miss her. Ever since I met her, my life hasn’t been the same.
Without her, I feel lonely. Which is saying something, since I’m rarely alone.
Most days, I’m surrounded by players and coaches, and even management.
I’m not one to get lonely. But Layla’s changed that.
I think it’s safe to say that I’ve changed.
In a big way. Not sure how to handle that revelation, I dig into work. Baseball games don’t win themselves.
The week passes by in a blur, games scheduled every day, except one. On the off-day, I join the players in the gym, working on building a camaraderie with the new acquisitions from the off-season. Especially with Phillips and Johnson, a new outfielder and shortstop.
“Hey, man.”
“Coach,” Phillips replies, hefting the weights in his hands.
“Settling in?”
“Pretty much. Ready to start the season.”
I chuckle. Oh to be young and gung-ho again. “That’s what I like to hear,” I tell him, giving him a quick clap on the shoulder. “Let me know if you need anything or need help settling in.”
“Will do, Coach.”
I nod and move on to Johnson, our conversation much the same. Satisfied for now, I make my way over to a weight bench and start my workout. These guys may be younger than me, but they will never be more fit than me.
By the end of my workout, I’m drenched in sweat and feeling good, my muscles loose and slightly tired.
Since I work out regularly, I don’t need to push it to the max every single day.
I’m more in maintenance-mode than build-mode.
All in all, it’s been a good day. And it’s about to get even better.
Because tonight, Layla is going to FaceTime around 9:00 p.m. It’s kind of sad that we have to schedule time for each other, but if that’s what we need to do, then we’ll do it.
I’m lying in bed, in just my boxer briefs, when my phone alerts me to a FaceTime. It’s Layla.
“Hello, beautiful,” I say after I pick up.
“Hello, handsome.”
“How was your day?”
“Busy. Long. How about you?”
“Pretty much the same. It was an off day, but I worked out with the players, getting to know the newest ones a little more.”
She nods.
“How are Cora and Chris?”
“They’re good. They asked when you’ll be back in town.”
I know exactly when I’ll be back. “April 18th.”
“That long?” Layla gasps softly, her phone slipping a bit, showing more of her. What is she wearing?
I grimace a bit. It’s a long time. “That long. Say, what are you wearing?”
She grins, then pulls her arm back, showing me her top.
“Fuuuck, woman,” I grind out, my dick instantly hard. She’s wearing the jersey I gave her for Christmas. The one that has my name on the back.
“I thought you might like that.”
“I more than like it,” I growl, pushing on my painfully hard dick, now almost busting out of my boxer briefs. “Have anything on underneath my jersey?” I grate out, my throat tight.
She bats her eyelashes at me, shaking her head.
“Nothing? Not even…” I start to say, my words stuck in my throat. Layla pans down and shows me my jersey, unbuttoned and perfectly framed between her legs. Fuck. Me. This woman…
“Layla,” I growl, pushing down my boxer briefs. “As much as I love seeing you in my jersey, for the love of God, woman. Take it off!”
She smirks and grasps each side of the jersey, shrugging it off, revealing her glorious breasts and dark nipples. Taking my dick in my hand, I squeeze and stroke down the shaft, pleasuring myself.
“Play with your tits,” I grunt, my strokes getting rougher.
Her hands fly to her breasts, cupping each one. She then plucks her nipples, making them stand at attention. God, what I wouldn’t give to be there, so I could suck each hard pebble into my mouth.
“Gabe,” she moans, leaning back. Good thing she already has the camera sitting up, or she’d be out of shot.
“Now play with that pretty pussy. Are you wet?”
“Yes,” she moans, her fingers between her legs.
“Show me.” She lifts up her fingers, and they’re coated with her arousal.
She’s fucking soaked. “I want to see how pink and puffy it is,” I grate out, my dick now throbbing uncontrollably.
Layla’s fingers move, holding herself open to me.
And, sure enough, her clit is so very pink and swollen.
Fuck, even her clit is beautiful. Layla is beautiful all over.
“Play with your clit,” I husk out, my breathing intensifying rapidly.
She moves her fingers, pushing two into her sopping wet pussy.
She’s so wet, I can hear a sucking sound as her fingers sink into her body.
“Make yourself come.” Her hand starts to move and she starts to whimper.
“I’m close,” she murmurs, her eyes now closed, her hand working furiously between her legs.
“Come for me, baby,” I command. I’m about to blow. Stroking harder, I stimulate the tip of my dick, holding on until Layla comes.
Within seconds, Layla grunts, her orgasm overtaking her, her whole body shuddering. “Gabe!” she moans, her pussy strangling her fingers.
“Play with your nipples.” If I were there, I would be the one sucking her nipples as she climaxes, prolonging her orgasm.
Her hand sweeps up to her tits and she pinches a nipple, causing another mini orgasm to sweep through her body.
Her whole body tenses, then she collapses on the bed, her breasts rising and falling as she sucks air into her lungs.
Watching Layla come is an experience. It’s so good, it sets off my own climax.
Imagining her hands on me, my dick nestled into her ripe body, I grip my dick and pump hard, coming all over my abs, cum running between my fingers.
“Fuuuck,” I mumble, struggling to breathe.
That’s how much Layla affects me. Even from far away.
I watch as she comes down from her climax. Her skin has a rosy glow to it, and her thighs glisten with her pleasure.
“Layla, baby,” I whisper. “I love you.”
Her eyes flutter open, focusing on mine. “Love you, too,” she husks.
We stay on, eventually falling asleep, the video winking out sometime during the night.