Page 44 of Bad Call
I humped my fist, increasing my pace even though he hadn’t told me to. I was desperate to come. My head tipped back, my eyes rolling back in my head, and my mouth hung open as I breathed heavy and loud.
“Do you feel it? Are you nearly there?”
Was he kidding me? I’d been there for twenty minutes. My balls were starting to hurt. “I’m there,” I grated, sounding all raspy and dire.
Casey chuckled, running his finger down my calf. “You’re so much fun to fuck with.” Then he pulled my leg hair, and I almost kicked him reflexively. “I would love to drag this out and edge you, to make you hurt, to make you cry and beg for release, but I’ll go easy on you, since this is your first time.”
Easy? Nothing about this had felt easy.
“Go ahead, my sweet bitch. Come for me.”
That one word did it. I brought myself right to the point of explosion, and then let go, planting my hands beside my hips on the mattress so that he could watch my cock pulse without being touched.
“Oh my God, you’re fucking beautiful,” he whispered, sounding amazed.
My hips bucked, and I moaned long and loud as I came, rope after rope of hot, thick cream crisscrossing over my stomach in a sticky mess. And then he blew mymind. Casey crawled over my legs and licked my skin clean. He dragged his tongue through my cum, lapping it up like a kitten with a bowl of cream. And then he licked his lips and gave me a devious smirk before dropping a kiss on my lips that was mostly all tongue.
“Next time I’m gonna fuck you.”
Yes, please! I was free tomorrow and the next day and the next.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CASEY
“Come on!”I scrubbed my face, hoping that when I looked out onto the field again, I was watching a different game. “What is he doing out there, Marley?”
“Tanner, Coach?”
“No, not Tanner. Blue! He can’t be serious.” Why had I been under the false impression that just because Baylor had submitted to me in the bedroom, he would be nicer to me on the field? Nothing could be further from the truth. Then again, he was also giving Marcus’s team the same bad calls. Poor judgment ran in the man’s blood.
Baylor blew his whistle, motioning for my runner to return to second base.
“He stole that fair and square!”
Marley shrugged and sighed. “It’s going to be a long game, Coach.”
I reached for my bottle of antacids, popping a handful in my mouth. “It sure fucking is,” I agreed.
If we lost this game, that would put Marcus’s teamahead of us. We weren’t out of the running for the World Series, but we also weren’t looking our best.
“Objectively, it was a close call, Coach,” Marley said, playing the Devil’s Advocate.
“Bullshit. Keep that up and you’ll be coaching from the parking lot,” I warned. Marley laughed. He was used to my empty threats by now. Austin was up to bat. He widened his stance and raised the bat above his shoulder, ready to put some power into his swing. “Come on, Healey. Show them what you got!”
The Cougars’ pitcher threw a fastball, but Austin struck it with his bat, the crack reverberating across the field. “Hell, yeah!”
It was a close call as he ran all out for first base. Baylor motioned that he was safe as his cleat touched the plate just as the first baseman caught the ball. It was the first time this evening I hadn’t wanted to throttle him.
“There you go, Coach,” Marley encouraged, clapping me on the back. “We’re making a comeback.”
“We’ll see about that,” I grumbled, taking a swig of dietsoda to wash down the chalkiness of the antacids.
I looked out across the field, my gaze colliding with Baylor’s. I couldn’t stop remembering his mouth wrapped around my cock, his face covered in frothy saliva, and his eyes, red-rimmed and teary. He gagged so beautifully for me, and he fucking loved it. How had I found a man brand new to cocksucking, who loved it so immediately and intensely?
Baylor was… addicting. A recurring thought I couldn’t shake.
I thought of him night and day—when I was working, when I was driving, when I was coaching. I couldn’t get him out of my head.