The Perfect Pitch (Indianapolis Lightning Book 1) Page 5

  “God damn, woman. You can’t say shit like that to me and not have me fantasizing about watching you pleasure yourself with said device, or better yet, let me be in control of it and teasing you with it.”

  “Sorry?” I say, almost as a question, as I give him a shit-eating grin and shrug my shoulders. He laughs, an honest-to-god real laugh. I haven’t heard him this carefree in I don’t know how long, but it’s refreshing and makes me think the man I fell in love with all those years ago is actually making a comeback.

  “You’re a little cock-tease. You know that?” he says, still laughing so I know he’s just teasing me.

  “Not on purpose, I promise.”

  “While I’m not a fan of blue balls—and let me tell you, you’re giving me one hell of a case of them tonight—just like when we first started dating, I’d never pressure you into something you’re not ready for. Just as you can use your B.O.B. to get yourself off, my left hand works just fine. Not my favorite way to come, but when necessary, I make it work,” he says, a smirk on his lips.

  “Oh, I’m aware. I’ve cleaned your shower for years now. I know how often you like to get one off while showering,” I tell him, rolling my eyes.

  “But the moment you give me the green light to touch you again, prepare yourself, sweetheart, because I will rock your world. Preferably all night, and the entire next day. So, when you’re ready, maybe find a sitter for the girls. I want you all to myself with no distractions.”

  “You’re sure confident,” I tell him, but know, deep down, he’ll make good on his promise.

  He winks at me. “You know it.”

  “Okay, big guy, off you go.” I point to the front door. “I need to get to bed—alone,” I state, stopping him from interrupting me as I know he wants to do. “So that means that you’ve got to go home.”

  Telling Derek to go home sounds so foreign coming from my lips. His home used to be here, and it’s still weird to think this isn’t his home anymore. At least, not for now.

  “Such a ballbuster.” He chuckles as he stands and stretches. His t-shirt rides up and shows off a small sliver of his V muscles that usually have me dropping my panties and begging for him with just one look, but not tonight. Tonight, I will be strong and not give in to my wants. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he says as he stops in front of me. He drops a kiss to my cheek before heading to the front door. “Think of me when you get yourself off tonight. I can promise you that I’ll be thinking of you when I come in the shower.”

  Then, he walks out the door. I stand there, staring at the door long after it closes. What the fuck just happened?

  I shake myself from my trance when I hear my phone chime from the kitchen. I stop and lock up the front door, then check to make sure the garage door didn’t get left open. I grab my cell off the counter and see a text from Derek.

  Derek: If you need me to talk you through that orgasm, feel free to call me once you’re between the sheets. I’ll gladly listen to you come over the phone.

  Jillian: Goodnight, Derek.

  Derek: Come on, baby. You know you used to enjoy phone sex before the girls were born. We’ve talked each other through many orgasms over the years.

  He’s so cocky and sure of himself, it’s almost starting to tick me off just a bit, so I ignore his last text and flip my phone to silent. I grab the remote from the end table and turn off the hockey game he’d been watching. He’s been friends with a few of the guys on the team for a while now. I really miss his agent, Madison, who’s now married to one of the guys who used to play for the Eagles’ hockey team and is now part of their broadcast team. She decided to leave the workforce recently, since they’re expecting twins. Derek really spiraled without her guidance, but I get her wanting to be home with her babies. Having two less than two years apart was hard enough; I couldn’t imagine having two at once.

  I finally make my way to bed and force myself to fall asleep without fantasizing about what Derek’s tongue or cock could be doing to me right now. No, I force myself to fall asleep, all alone in this big cold bed.

  Seven

  Derek

  I make it home, still hard as a fucking bat, but on cloud fucking nine knowing I’ve got a chance at getting Jillian back. I knew she didn’t really want the divorce, but I had my head shoved so far up my own ass I couldn’t see that until it was all taken from me. Well, I’ve pulled my head from my ass and I can see clearly. Not being with my family right now fucking sucks, and I’ve got no one to blame but myself. I don’t blame Jillian for doing what she did.

  I bypass my kitchen and living room and head straight for the master bathroom. I reach in and turn the water on, giving it a minute or so to warm up while I strip out of my jeans and t-shirt. I toss my baseball cap on the counter, then give my cock a good few tugs before I walk into the shower. The water hits my back and my muscles relax instantly. I plant one palm flat against the shower wall, the other gripping my cock, and I think of all the things I want to do to Jillian’s pussy. The way I’d devour it with my mouth. Bring her right to the edge, then pull back, only to bring her right back to the edge a few more times, prolonging her orgasm to make it that much stronger once she does detonate. The way it would feel when I finally slide my cock back inside her tightness. To feel her muscles clench around me. Even after pushing out two kids, she’s never not felt like a vise grip latching on to my cock.

  I stroke faster, gripping tighter as I work myself from base to tip, making sure to circle around the tip every few strokes. I call out her name as I tumble over the edge and let my orgasm claim my body. My chest is heaving as I coat the wall with my cum. I haven’t come that hard in a long-ass time, and I’m a little shocked at how labored I am because of it. I collapse against the wall, making sure to avoid the result of my release sliding down the wall.

  Seeing it coating the wall makes me laugh at her comment about being the one to clean the shower I’ve used for years, and knowing how often I’d rub one out in the shower. I reach up and grab the removable showerhead, then point it at the wall to help wash away the evidence of my orgasm. Satisfied it’s all gone, I replace the showerhead and reach for the body wash to actually take a shower.

  I slide beneath the sheets, with only a pair of boxers on, after the nice, hot shower. I flip the TV on and watch the highlights from the Eagles game. They’ve had a rough start to the season, and recently had to start using their back-up goalie, as their main one got injured. I haven’t met this new kid, Beckett, yet, but he looks pretty good between the pipes, so I hope they can find their mojo once again. They’ve been such a powerhouse team the last decade that it’s hard to see them struggle this season.

  While I might not play their sport, I not only want to cheer on the other local sports teams, but a lot of us players end up at the same charity events or industry parties that span multiple sports, not to mention the number of players from both organizations who use the same agent or agency to represent us. It’s nice to have someone local. A lot of my friends have used larger sports agents that are all located in LA and New York City. They can be hard to become acquainted with, and many feel like they’re just another number in the agent’s column.

  When Madison was my agent, she practically knew every breath I took. She did a pretty good job of keeping my ass in line and I sure miss her now that she’s off being a mom-to-be and wife. A player, of all people, locked her down. I was never interested in Madison since, by the time I met her, I was already married to Jillian, and never have seen Madison in that kind of light. Today, she and her husband, Richard, are pretty good friends, but she’s probably heard by now about the separation and divorce situation.

  I’m glad to see the final highlights showing the Eagles pulled off the win, one they desperately needed tonight. I’ve been in that situation and all it takes is just one win to turn your season around. I click the TV off and force myself to drift off to sleep. I want to text Jillian one last time, but I think I pushed her a little too far earlier. I was trying
to be playful, but maybe I didn’t go about that the right way. She does that to me, occasionally, but I need to keep that in mind for the future.

  I wake up the next morning, ready to start cooking up a game plan to win Jillian back. She gave me the small opening last night and I won’t waste it, nor take it for granted. I make a quick protein shake and down it on my way to the gym. Lifting some weights will help me focus and figure out my game plan. It needs to be perfect.

  “Hey, man,” Jose, one of our outfielders, greets me as I walk into the locker room.

  With this being the offseason, many of the guys go back to wherever they’re from, but Indianapolis has truly become home to Jill and me. Once the girls came along, we really started staying put during the few months between seasons. We’d travel to visit family or whatnot, but we stopped packing up our lives for the few months I’d be off and not required to report. But, since we’re here, the facilities are all accessible to me as a player.

  “How’s it going?” I ask, bumping my fist against his.

  “Can’t complain. Just trying to bulk up a bit before next season.”

  “Understand that. Are you going back home at all during the break?”

  “Yeah,” he says, lifting his ball cap off to scratch his head, then sets it back in place. “I’m flying out at the end of the week. My mom wanted me to bring the kids, but Jessica put her foot down that we can’t be taking them out of school whenever we want, nor for an undisclosed amount of time. So, it’s just me going for a couple weeks, and our compromise was that I’d fly my mom back here for the holidays and then she can see the kids.”

  “Sounds like a good plan.”

  “You got anything going on?”

  “Trying to convince Jillian to not only take my ass back, but I also sprung the idea of a Disney World trip for the four of us on her for the week after Thanksgiving.”

  “You don’t tread lightly, do you?” he asks, laughing.

  “Not really.”

  I walk over to one of the treadmills and set it up, then jump on it and get a good warmup run knocked out. With my blood pumping hard after ten minutes on the machine, I head for the free weights and start working the muscles. I like to hit all the muscle groups rather than focus on an entire muscle group for a day and nothing else.

  I finish up my arms and move on to the leg press, working on my legs. As a pitcher, I not only have to have strong arms to throw the ball at the rate I do, but I also need powerful legs to help give me the power I have to transfer into the ball when I release it from my hand.

  With my workout out of the way, I stop in the locker room to shower and change before I leave. I check to make sure I didn’t miss any calls or texts while I was working out.

  Jillian: Any chance you’re free this morning? Penelope woke up with a fever, swollen throat, and has puked. The whole nine yards. I’m suspecting strep, but I need to take her in to the doctor this morning and would prefer to not take Addison with us if you’d be able to stop over and hang out with her, or take her with you today.

  The text from Jillian is from about fifteen minutes ago, so I hope she hasn’t already had to leave for the doctor.

  Derek: I’m on my way. Can I pick up anything on my way for any of you? Coffee? Medicine? Bleach?

  The bubbles pop up instantly as I walk out of the building and to my truck. Her text still hasn’t come through by the time I’m pulling out of my parking spot, so I toss my cell in the cup holder and hit the button on my dash screen to just call Jillian from my truck’s Bluetooth.

  “Hey, sorry for bugging you, but I’m in the truck and couldn’t read or reply to your text. Did you need me to grab anything before I come over?”

  “I think we’re good for now. That might change later, but for now, we’re good.”

  “Okay, I’ll be there shortly,” I tell her before disconnecting the call, and haul ass over to the house.

  I let myself into the house from the garage. I still have the opener programmed to my truck. When I first walk in, I’m greeted with complete silence. That doesn’t last more than thirty seconds as I hear Pen start to sob as she pukes again. It’s obviously freaking her out by the way she’s crying. I quickly find them in the master bedroom, Jillian holding a bowl under Penny’s chin. I almost lose my protein shake when my own body’s gag reflex triggers as I hear and smell her puking. I head for the bathroom to grab a washcloth, getting it wet so Jill can place it on Penny’s forehead to help cool her down as her body fights whatever it is that’s plaguing it.

  “Here, take this,” I say quietly, handing over the wet washcloth.

  “Thanks.” She wipes Penny’s face with it as she falls back against the pillows, her little body collapsing into them as her eyes drift shut. From the way they’re set up in here, it looks like this has been happening for a while, and it just twists the metaphorical knife to my heart that I wasn’t here, yet again, when my family needed me during the night.

  “What time is her appointment?” I murmur, not wanting to wake her up.

  “Eleven thirty.”

  “Okay, has Addison had breakfast yet?”

  “No, she’s still asleep, if you can believe that. Actually, can you go in and check on her, make sure she isn’t running a fever? I’m expecting her to come down with whatever this is since they obviously share germs, so it’s only a matter of time before that happens,” Jillian says, the exhaustion obvious.

  “Of course.” I grab the thermometer off her nightstand and head for the girls’ room. I find Addison awake and looking at a book while she lays in bed. “Morning, baby girl. Are you feeling okay?” I ask, as I sit down on her mattress.

  Rather than answer me, she just shrugs her shoulders. I reach a hand out and feel her forehead. Unfortunately, she’s burning up. I don’t even need the thermometer to tell me she’s got a fever, but I still slide it over her forehead so I can tell Jillian how high it is. “Looks like you’ve got a fever, just like your sister. Does your stomach or throat hurt?” I ask, and she nods her head.

  “My throat,” she croaks out.

  “Okay, you sit tight, and I’ll go get you something to drink and some medicine that will help you feel better.”

  I stop in the bedroom and relay this information to Jillian. She hands me the kids’ ibuprofen and I head for the kitchen to grab a water bottle for Addison to use while in bed. I watch as she chews the tablets and downs some of the water. “Are you hungry at all? I could make you some toast if you feel like eating anything.”

  “I just want cuddles,” she says, obviously not feeling well.

  “I’ll tell you what. How about we go stretch out on the couch and turn on a movie, and Daddy will cuddle you the entire time. Mommy is in cuddling sissy since she’s also sick.”

  “Okay,” she agrees, and I scoop her up in my arms, blankets and all, and carry her out to the living room.

  “Do you need to potty before we get settled?”

  “Yes,” she says, so I bring her to the bathroom. I leave her to do her business and grab a bowl to keep in the living room, just in case she follows in her sister’s footsteps and starts to puke. I want to be prepared.

  I settle us both in on the couch and flip on the TV, going right to the Disney Jr. channel, which I know is the girls’ favorite one. Addison cuddles into my arms as we lay together, and the heat radiating from her fever is causing me to start sweating. I do my best to uncover my body from her blanket, but it doesn’t do much good since she’s plastered to me and is burning up.

  I nod off for a while with Addison in my arms, only waking up when Jillian shakes me. “I was able to get Addison added to the appointment, since I’m sure they both have strep at this point and will both need antibiotics.”

  “Okay, still the same time?” I ask, wiping a hand down my face, attempting to wipe the sleep from it.

  “Yep, so I need to get them packed up in about fifteen minutes. Is there any chance you can come with us to help me carry one of them in?” she asks hes
itantly.

  “Of course. I’m all yours for the rest of the day. You just tell me what you need for me to do.”

  “Thanks, having a second set of hands is necessary when they’re both sick like this. I just hope that they don’t pass it to either of us.”

  “Let me go to the bathroom quick, and then I can help you get them loaded up. Do you want to take the truck and I can drive?” I offer. Seeing how tired Jillian is, she probably doesn’t need to be driving right now.

  “Sure, that’d be great, actually.”

  I grab her hand and link our fingers together, squeezing them quickly. “I’m not going anywhere. You can lean on me. We’ll get them over this little snafu and having them back to our normal, giggling girls within a few days. I can stay the night to help, if you’d like. I can sleep on the guest bed.” Stopping her from protesting, I enunciate the last part once again. “The guest bedroom. No funny business going on. I just want to help, and it looks like you need some sleep, so just accept the help, Jillian.”

  Her shoulders drop as she gives in to my request. “Thanks, Derek. I really appreciate it.”

  “They’re just as much my kids as they are yours. This all shouldn’t have to fall on your shoulders. I want to help, so just accept that reality and let’s get ready to head to the pediatrician.”

  Eight

  Jillian

  “Your suspicions were spot-on. They both are positive for strep,” Dr. Dunn says as she walks back into the exam room we’re all in. The girls are both passed out on our laps, after having been examined and then waiting on the test results.