CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE NICK
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
NICK
The last thing I need to do is fumble a ball before this game even starts.
One that Dean passed to me.
One that my boyfriend, who traveled across the country, passed to my sorry ass.
All of my focus is on my left hand, willing it to keep a hold on the ball that might as well have been slicked with some kind of oil. Shaking my head, I try to conjure up some more energy, and I consider slapping myself a couple of times to confirm if I’m actually seeing this for real.
“Hey, are you good?” Dean asks, leaning against the railing above the dugout.
A gentle breeze wafts through the air, ruffling his dark hair that’s glowing red in the strong sunlight.
The shades he’s wearing reflect my stunned expression, and the smile I’ve missed so much?
Seeing it in real life is something else, and it snaps me back to reality.
Every plane of reality. He’s waiting for me to sign this ball right now, and he’s also waiting for me to grow the hell up.
He says he wants to stay here, and I wanted to give him an out in case he was settling.
The fact he flew here, probably on a horrible red-eye flight like the one I took from Boston, says everything I need to hear.
I knew he liked me. I knew he missed me. I just didn’t know I deserved any of it.
“Holy fucking shit,” I eke out, because those are the first words that come to mind.
Solomon drives a hand onto my back, waking me up. “That isn’t how you greet your man, Russell,” he says, chuckling and shaking me before turning away.
Right. Yeah. I should thank the guy who’s probably balls-deep in finals for visiting me, the day after I made him think I wanted to break up.
“You came,” I get out. “You’re here. Thank you.”
Dean smirks, nodding at the marker in my right hand. “I did. I don’t have anything signed by a pro athlete, so if you could get to it, I’d appreciate that.”
I scoff weakly, scrawling my signature onto the baseball before throwing it back. “Wow, you’re so demanding. Coming all the way here to make me do work.”
He catches the ball with a clean sweep of his hand, and it lands with a satisfying thwack. “Awesome. Thanks!”
Then he turns away, grinning.
Not on my watch. There’s so much I need to say, and to apologize for. I reach up and grab his departing ankle, giving it a pull and making him turn around. Seizing my chance, I step on the bench and scale up the fencing, balancing myself on the thin strip of concrete so I’m face to face with Dean.
“Is there something else?” he asks, leaning toward me.
I let out a deep breath. “Yeah, fuck. I’m sorry. I needed to get a grip, and I didn’t.”
He nods once, his expression soft, and he reaches out to place a hand on mine.
“It’s okay, Nick. I know you think you don’t deserve to be happy or whatever, but you do.
I need you to know that.” The thumb he’s running along the top of my hand sends tingles up and down my spine.
“And if I can prove it, I will. You’re so important to me. ”
Aw, hell. He’s gonna make me bawl my eyes out in front of my teammates. And maybe…I don’t care that much.
If I say anything, the waterworks are gonna start, so instead, I bend my body forward to plant a kiss on his lips.
The instant our mouths brush, every ounce of achy solitude, every second I spent missing him, and every last scrap of nervous apprehension leaves my body in a needy groan that spills out of my throat.
I’m well aware we’re in public, in full view of my teammates, but a little kissing never killed anyone.
A bunch of the guys brought their partners to training, and now mine is here, too.
“How long are you in town for?” I ask.
“For the week.”
His confession gets me to throw my arms around him. He’s here for a week.
“My god, Dean,” I murmur, my voice catching. “I love you.”
“Nick.” He tightens around my shoulders and pulls back a little, before pressing his forehead to mine. “I love you too. So fucking much.”
“Aww, isn’t that just adorable?” someone below calls out.
I turn my head to find out it’s Jax. The shy little fucker’s apparently found his voice in time to rib me.
What I also see is every last one of my teammates looking at me and Dean with identical subtly interested smiles.
“Stop staring!” I yell, grinning back down, hoping the elated tears pricking my eyes don’t show.
“Why? Y’all are cute,” Solomon says back. I can’t argue, so I turn around to face Dean again, lifting his shades so I can see all of him.
He squints while snickering at me. “Ow. It’s so bright here.”
“Deal with it. I wanna see every part of your smile.”
That gets him to grin, granting me my wish. It’s already too hot here, and his smile is so radiant, it might render the whole damn state uninhabitable—if I were a little meaner, I’d prank him with a Gatorade shower.
But I’m not about to piss off my loving boyfriend who’s forgiving my dickish behavior.
Instead, I grab his cute face and kiss him again, making sure to tangle my tongue with his so I can steal some of his energy for the game ahead.
He gasps and sighs gently through it all, running his hands along my back to hold me in place, gripping my muscles like he’s trying to remember what they feel like.
“Enough with the handsiness,” I complain quietly, pulling back. “Don’t make me hard in my uniform.”
“Fine, fine.” He lets go, planting his hands on the railing, and I cover them with mine. His skin is so damn soft, and the heat behind it is palpable, even in the scorching sun.
“I, uh, should get back at some point,” I say. “The game’s gonna start.”
“Yeah. I’ll let you go. Score a run for me, babe.” He pecks my forehead, and I melt inside.
“I’ll try my best.”
We share one last, short kiss before I climb down to rejoin the team, already missing Dean but excited for the game ahead.
“Get over here,” Jax says, grabbing my shoulder. He’s about to do the typical camaraderie-coded ass slap, but his hand hovers mid-raise. “Is your guy gonna get offended if—”
“Nah, go ahead, but only if you use a paddle!” Dean calls out, and I flip the bird at his laughing, retreating figure.
Then I get a smack to my rear, jolting me back to warmups. We’ve got a game to win, and I owe my boyfriend a run.
Today was one of the best days I’ve had in ages. Dean surprised me, of course, but afterward, I scored two runs, we won our game against Chicago, and then I came back to my spacious hotel room to make out with my boyfriend until we were both breathless.
And now we’re both half-naked, fully hard, and waiting for room service.
“Come on, let me go,” Dean protests as I lock my arms around his body, letting my weight pin him down on the bed.
“I don’t think so.” I kiss the back of his neck and slide my legs beneath his. “I’m keeping you here.” Feeling his bare skin against mine is fucking unreal.
“You’re an ass,” he mumbles, stilling under my touch and sinking face first into the soft hotel mattress.
Perfect. He’s right where I want him. “You’re such a good boy when you obey.”
“You’re lucky I’m underneath you because I swear to god, I want to spank you until you scream.”
“That’s my team’s job. With a paddle.”
He groans, rolling his head backward into my face. “Are you gonna stop being gross after we have sex?”
“Finally. I knew you’d catch on eventually.”
He wriggles out of my grasp and turns to face me, his dick brushing against mine as soon as we discard our shorts.
“I don’t know about you, but I’ve been miserable for the past few weeks,” he says, reaching around and digging his fingers into my ass.
“I just wanna warn you—I might be a tiny bit feral.”
“Were the shower pictures not enough for Your Royal Highness?” I clench my cheeks the way he likes. “Needy fuck.”
Dean scoffs a minty breath. “Hey. You’re hot, but feeling you is miles better than seeing you on a screen. And you’ve gotta be getting bored of your hands by now, right?”
My cheeks heat. “Yeah, definitely. Uh, I bought a…something, but I haven’t used it yet.”
“A something?” He cocks his head, grinning. “Care to tell me what it is?”
Powering through my blush, I reach into my open suitcase and retrieve an opaque, solid-colored cardboard box.
“A sex toy.” I pause when Dean doesn’t laugh, then I clarify, “A dick stroker. I didn’t have space to bring my old stuff, but I got horny one night, and then I regretted it because it felt like I was trying to replace you. ”
“Nick.” He shakes his head. “That’s touching, but you really need to stop torturing yourself.”
“Huh. Maybe I won’t let myself come until we move in together.”
Dean narrows his smiling eyes at me. “Stop it. There’s no way you’d last for longer than two days.”
He isn’t wrong, and he knows it. A sneaky hand finds its way to my erection, fondling it and filling my core with twisting heat and making my breath catch.
“Why don’t I use it on you?” he suggests.
I tilt my head. “But…you’re here.”
He shrugs. “Yeah, but we have a week together. Maybe if I work you over, it won’t feel like you’re replacing me when I do have to leave. Condition you a little.”
“I’m not a dog. Come on.” I swat his head, laughing, before saying, “It’s not a bad idea.”
“Put your hands behind your head,” he instructs, his face lighting up. “I wanna see those sexy biceps.”
I comply, leaning backward and flexing for him. He runs warm fingers over my arms and over my chest, his mouth curving up at one side, before he unpacks the stroker.
“Think it’s gonna be big enough?” he asks, eyeing the plastic and laying it next to my dick that’s definitely gonna fit. I chuckle and bat his hand away, rolling my eyes. “Alright. I’ll rinse this out and get it ready. Don’t you move.”
“Sure thing.”
I leer at his tight ass walking him into the bathroom, resisting the urge to reach down and stroke myself. The sound of running water makes my brain stutter in anticipation, and my breaths grow shallow. I can’t fucking wait.