11. Chapter 11 #3
I shift on the bed, parting my thighs. The hem of my shirt creeps higher, exposing more of my bare skin. I dip the phone a little so he can see exactly what I'm doing.
His eyes stay locked on the screen. “Fuck, Whit. You look so good like this.”
“Anything you want me to do next?” I ask lightly, waiting for his next command.
His eyes connect with mine for just a second, and when he realizes I'm just as game as he is to take this further, he starts.
“Slip your hand between your legs and touch yourself over your panties. Tell me how wet you are.”
I slide my hand down, pressing lightly against the lace between my thighs. A small moan escapes me. “My panties are soaked.”
JB’s breathing gets heavier. “Fuck, I love that. Rub your clit in slow circles for me, baby. Get yourself nice and worked up.” He pauses, watching me intently. “When you’re ready, I want you to push your fingers inside that tight little pussy and fuck yourself while I watch—”
Knock. Knock. Knock.
A loud knock suddenly echoes through his room.
JB freezes. “Shit,” he mutters, glancing away from the camera, and I immediately move my hand and clamp my thighs together.
“JB? You in there, man? Open up, it’s important,” a muffled male voice calls from the other side of his door.
“Shit, that's Tate.” JB glances at the screen, giving me an apologetic smile. “Two minutes. I'll get him out of here, and then we can continue where we left off.”
“Okay.”
He places his phone so I'm staring at the ceiling and can still hear him shuffling to the door and opening it.
“Hey, Tate. What can I do for you this late?”
Why is he still rhyming?
“JB, can we talk?”
“Sure, what about?” JB’s hesitant and I can imagine he’s looking at me on the phone.
“Everything.”
Even I can hear the frustration in his voice from here.
“What did Emma do now?”
I hear the patter of feet as the door shuts.
“Don't get me started—”
Tate doesn't finish his sentence.
“Oh,” he says, surprised. “I'm sorry... Was I interrupting a little moment?”
The way he says moment makes me smile. He thinks JB was in here masturbating. To be fair, he nearly was.
“No. No. Don't worry. I was, uh, just talking to Whit.”
“So I did interrupt something. I'm sorry.”
“Don't be.”
“Oh my—” I say when the screen suddenly moves. Instinctively, I pull my shirt up over my shoulder because I've got a feeling I know where this is going.
“See, she's still here.”
It's then that I'm suddenly face-to-face with Tate Sorenson. His dirty blond hair is wet from what I assume is a shower, and he's smiling brightly at the screen.
“Hi, Tate. It's nice to, uh, see you again.”
“Nice to see you again too?” It comes out as more of a question. “Congratulations on your win tonight. That was an awesome homer in the eighth,” I say, knowing any pretense that JB and I might continue where we left off is completely gone now.
Funnily enough, I think I'm okay with it. I like meeting JB's friends and seeing more of his personality shine through. Not that I'd tell him that. It would certainly make him think that I'm falling for him, and I can't have him knowing that just yet.
“Thanks,” Tate says, pulling JB into the frame. “But I can't take all the credit. JB's two RBIs helped.”
“Aw, bud.” JB pulls him in for a hug with a big, genuine smile on his face. That's one of the things I love about JB; he wears his heart on his sleeve.
Shit. Did I just say love?
I meant it figuratively speaking. I'm not in love with JB. It's way too soon for anything like that.
Tate clears his throat, pushing JB away jovially. “And congratulations on your U.S. Women's Open win, by the way. Watched the entire thing and think you're incredible.”
My lip turns up slightly.
“Oh, you watched it?”
Tate laughs and looks at JB, then back at the screen. “Oh, he hasn't told you? JB made us all watch it. At the time he said it was to support Larry and his daughter. We weren't told about his obsession with you until later.”
I crinkle my nose. “Obsession? That feels a little much.”
He shakes his head. “Oh, no. You have our catcher caught up. JB's been down bad for a while now.”
“Hey—” JB tries to start, but Tate elbows him.
“I'm just trying to say that I'm glad he finally got to shoot his shot. The dude's irresistible once you get to know him.”
That he is.
“Traitor,” JB mutters, glaring at his friend, but there's the smallest of smirks growing on his lips.
“Hey, Whit.” Tate keeps going. “Did you know JB once watched a forty-five-minute interview where you talked about lawn maintenance instead of coming out to the team dinner to celebrate a win he was responsible for?”
“No.” I shake my head, my smile growing wider as JB’s cheeks start to redden. He's just so goddamn endearing without even trying.
“To be clear, I was watching it for tips to improve my lawn.”
“You live in an apartment.”
“My future lawn.”
“You know, most people just buy flowers when they have a crush, JB,” I say with a wink.
“Where's the fun in that?”
“You're lucky, Whit,” Tate says. “That interview was the least concerning thing he did when he hadn't met you yet.”
“Is there a reason you're here, Tate? Or are you just trying to cock block me for the rest of my life?”
That's when Tate's smile fades. “Yeah, uh, there was something I wanted to talk to you about, but we can do it later.”
“If you're leaving because of me, don't worry, Tate. I'm beat. I need to get some rest.”
“You sure?” he asks with a raised brow. The fact that Tate came so late to talk to JB must mean it's important to him, and I don't want to get in the way of that.
“Yeah. I'm tired, and I have to do some press in the morning. You guys talk.”
JB pushes Tate out of the way so it's just his face visible. “Talk soon?” he says pointedly. “Need to pick up where we left off.”
My cheeks heat just a little as I give him a small smile.
“Yes,” I say quietly, then a little louder, “Goodnight, boys.”
“Goodnight, Whit,” they say simultaneously as I hang up still grinning.
I set my phone on the nightstand and lie back, staring at the ceiling.
Easy.
That’s what keeps pulling at my heart. Talking to JB is so stupidly easy, and I have absolutely no idea what to do with that.
I’ve never had easy before. I’ve had good, and I’ve had a little fun, but never this.
I’ve never been with someone who makes me feel like I’ve known him for years when it’s only been a few days.
The distance doesn't scare me. I've been alone on the road my whole career and I'm good at it.
It's this that scares me. Whatever this is, because if he can do that to me in a weekend, I genuinely don't know what he's capable of with more time.