CHAPTER 12 DANNY
I don’t ever want to move. I’m still inside her, and I’m still hard as if even my dick is on board to just sit tight in there forever.
I know logically, this moment can’t last forever…
but I also know I’ve never cared about the next part.
I got mine, she got hers, we’re both happy. That’s how it’s always been.
But right now, I want to care for her. I want to hold her in my arms and make her feel what I’m feeling. I want her to know that she’s it for me, and even though there are obstacles and challenges, we’ll see our way past them.
We have to.
It was one fuck and I’m hooked, but the truth is…I was already hooked long before tonight.
She’s collapsed on my chest, which is heaving, and we’re both in that glorious moment of afterglow that is far, far too short.
I hold her to me so she doesn’t make any sudden movements, and we both breathe deeply, almost as if we’re breathing in each other. She’s becoming a part of me, a part of my soul, after what we just did.
And bareback?
Holy. Fucking. Hell.
I’ve never done that before. Ever.
I’m a smart guy, and the last thing we need is little Brewers running around. The last thing I need is some disease that follows me around for the rest of my life.
So while I’ve lived life to the fullest when it comes to the variety of women I’ve taken to bed, it’s always been with a condom.
Always.
Except for one.
Alexis Bodega.
And Jesus, what a one to lose my bareback virginity to. Her cunt is like the sweetest, softest velvet, and the way she squeezed my dick like a vice was the most insane thing I’ve ever felt.
And I’ve felt some things.
Her mouth was perfection, but it was like she sensed that I wanted to come inside her.
I had a condom in my pocket, and I was going to tell her that.
It all happened so fast.
I hope she’s on the pill.
But if she isn’t, I can’t help but think…would it really be so bad?
We both have careers to think about. We both have plans and goals and dreams.
But one time in her body might’ve just altered my very make-up. It changed those plans and goals and dreams to include her.
I never wanted monogamy…until I met her.
And maybe I never wanted kids…until I met her.
But the thought of seeing her pregnant with a baby I put in her does things to me that I’m not quite ready to define.
The thought of being tied to her for the rest of our lives because we brought something new into this world out of the passion we feel for one another gives me the type of feelings I can’t define.
I’ve never felt them before, so I’m not sure how to put a name to them other than simply terrifying.
And knowing we can’t have a real shot at this right now because we’re sneaking around behind the backs of people important to her tears at me.
There’s another man in the picture.
Whether or not it’s real is irrelevant. The fact of the matter is that he asked her to marry him, and she publicly said yes the day after I publicly kissed her.
That shouldn’t hurt as much as it does.
I try to ward off those thoughts. I try to remember what she told me before we started kissing. I try to remember that I’m who she wants to be with.
But none of that will matter if we’re caught. All that will matter is the scandal we brought on ourselves when we knew we should’ve handled things differently.
Still, I had one hit last night. One more hit tonight.
I’m fucking addicted to her.
And addiction makes people do things that go completely against their own moral code.
Eventually I soften and slip out of her, and my come drips out of her pussy and onto my leg. Knowing that it came from me, went inside her, and ended back on me is hot in a way I can’t really understand.
I shift her off me and onto the bed, and I head to her bathroom to grab a towel to clean her up, but she beats me to it, groaning sleepily as she passes by me and closes herself into the private water closet.
I head back to the bedroom and pull my boxers back on, but not the shirt or the jeans.
I lean up against the headboard and wait for her, and I think of all the times I stepped out after sex rather than spending the night with a woman.
This is different. From the moment I met her, it was different, and I have to believe it’s because she’s my dream girl. I told Cooper that months ago, and now here she is in the flesh.
I watch her walk out of the bathroom and grab something to sleep in—a long-sleeve black shirt and matching black shorts—and as she moves onto the bed beside me, I can’t help but feel a wave of sadness.
Dreams aren’t supposed to be contingent on other men.
When I said her name to Cooper back when he asked me about my hall pass, she was the first and only name that came to mind. Now that dream is becoming a reality, except…it’s not at all how I thought it would be.
In some ways, it’s even better.
In other ways, it’s far worse.
She slides down, facing me, and rests her head on her pillow. She lets out a soft sigh. “Better than I ever dreamed, Brewer,” she murmurs. She looks sleepy, and I slide down onto the pillow on my side of the bed and face her.
Her eyes are open and they find mine. I give her a tender gaze before I reach over and wrap my arm around her, pulling her closer. I drop a soft kiss on her forehead. “Better than anything I’ve ever felt before, Bodega.”
She chuckles at my use of her last name, but she gets serious. “You mean that?”
Her eyes search mine as I confirm that I do.
“I’ve never meant anything more than I mean that.”
She’s quiet a beat, closing her eyes and moving even closer to me, and I hold her tightly against me.
“What are we going to do?” she asks into my chest.
I let out a soft sigh. “I have no idea. But right here, tonight…nothing else matters.”
She kisses my chest then pulls back to look at me again. “Tell me something nobody else knows about you.”
I twist my lips a little as I try to come up with something. “I have a bunch of baseball superstitions.”
“You do?” Her eyes light up a little. “Like what?”
“When an inning starts, I play with the dirt with my spikes. I sweep it to the right, and I keep smoothing it over and sweeping it when things are going well. If something changes and takes a turn, I sweep left to fix it.”
“Okay, well that’s adorable. Does it work?” she asks.
I shrug. “We just won the World Series, so I guess it worked this year.”
She chuckles.
“Now you go,” I say.
She wrinkles her nose. “Okay. Um…I have some superstitions, too.”
“Such as?”
“I always step onto a stage with my right foot first, so it’s funny that yours is a right foot thing, too.
And I always have to touch the curtain backstage for good luck before I head out.
There was this one time I didn’t touch it, and when the second song started, I completely forgot the dance I was supposed to be doing.
I froze. So I’ve never missed touching that curtain since. ”
“What if there isn’t a curtain?” I ask.
“Oh, there’s always a curtain. I bring one as part of my set-up now.”
I chuckle. “I also never step on a foul line.”
“I drink the same tea before every show.” She raises her brows as if she’s made her move, so now it’s my turn.
“I wear the same hat until we lose,” I counter.
“I eat grilled chicken and broccoli for lunch every gig day.”
“I buy a new pack of gum for every game, and if the other team scores, I toss out what I’m chewing, and I have to get two new pieces.”
“What kind of gum?” she asks.
“Trident bubble gum.”
“Okay, you win.”
I laugh. “Either way, I guess we’re both superstitious.”
“More things in common with the bad boy of baseball when I thought we were complete opposites.”
“The bad boy of baseball,” I echo. “Do you really believe that?”
“I believe you’ve done things I never have,” she says. “I’ve seen the photographic evidence. I wouldn’t call you a good boy.”
“I called you a good girl when you were sucking my cock,” I murmur, shoving my hips toward her as my cock seems to recall that delight just a short while ago.
Holy hell. Am I already ready again?
I think I might be.
She runs a ring around my chest with her fingernail, and just her touch is enough to turn me on again. “I am a good girl, despite what you really meant in that moment. I don’t do drugs. I rarely drink. I don’t get to have a dating life. You’re my biggest secret.”
“I don’t want to be your secret.”
“And I don’t want you to be. But until this merger…” she trails off and sighs as she pulls back and lies on her back, staring up at the ceiling.
“Yeah, I know. The merger.” I say it with a heavy dose of disgust. “How else are you a good girl?”
She clears her throat as she glances over at me then tosses an arm over her eyes when she speaks her next words. “You’re only the second guy I’ve ever slept with.”
My jaw drops practically off the bed. “What?” I manage to choke out.
I can see the red spreading into her cheeks at the admission.
“And it’s been four years since the last guy,” she admits, her arm still firmly in place over her eyes.
I yank on her arm until she lowers it, and she finds my face hovering over hers. She blinks up at me, clearly mortified, and I’m not sure what to say to make her feel better.
I never would’ve guessed might come off sounding like I thought she had a lot of sex.
It didn’t show might sound overly sympathetic.
I’m not usually one to overanalyze my own words, yet here I am, wondering what the hell to say to that.
And then the words tumble out of my mouth. “Who’s the first guy so I can fucking kill him?”
She giggles, and the moment is suddenly a little lighter.
“He was my old drummer. We got close one summer on tour, and it was kind of just a friends with benefits sort of thing. I didn’t love him or whatever, and my dad found out and then started the rumors about Brooks and me.
Steven was never asked back on another tour, and I’ve made appearances with Brooks ever since.
” She lifts a shoulder. “It sounds so dumb, but in my line of work, with my level of dedication…I’ve never had time for a relationship. ”
“Do you now?”
She shakes her head. “Nope. But this time, I want to make time. And that’s what makes you different.”
I know the feeling all too well.