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“Uh uh,” I smirk. “That doesn’t mean you don’t want to crush the competition.”
He grins. “You’re right. I do.” He pauses, looking me up and down with a wolfish smile. “I’m sorry if it sounds possessive, but… God, I love to see this on you.” Austin tugs on the baseball shirt I’m wearing, unbuttoned over my tank top. It has his name on it.
His hand skates down my lower back, and I can feel him resisting the urge to pull me closer.
“Regretting that whole ‘no-sex-before-the-game’ rule?” I coo, sliding my hands over his naked chest.
He groans. “Damn right I am. Counting down the minutes, baby.”
I laugh. “Shouldn’t you be focused on the game?”
“The game is the last thing on my mind.” He pushes a lock of hair behind my ear, a surprisingly tender gesture for a man who is looking at me like I’m a glass of water on a hot day. “I’ve had time to think about it. I’ve got plans for you, lady.”
“Oh yeah?” I grin. The hand in my hair tugs a little, and I feel a bolt of heat in my core. The moment the game ends, I really might drag this man off the baseball diamond and into a custodial closet.
“Count on it.”
“I do. And that’s why I know you’ll play amazing today.”
Austin gives me a skeptical look. “Because I’m insanely horny for my girlfriend?”
I laugh. “Yes, but you have also have a ton of pent-up baseball energy, after so much time not playing. I know you, and I know you’ll channel that energy into the game of your life.”
Austin smirks. “Nice spin there. Someone should hire you to do marketing.”
“They can’t,” I beam. “I’m taken.”
“Yes, you are.” Austin pulls me closer for a steamy, possessive kiss. Then I pull away.
“Knock ‘em dead,” I say, heading for the door. “And by the way? I’m a big fan of those pants. Big fan.”
It might bemy pep talk, but Austin strides out onto the diamond like he owns it, just as I predicted. I’ve seen videos of him play, and I’ve seen him hit the ball around at the batting cages, but it’s nothing like the real deal today, with a stand full of fans all cheering him on.
I fan myself, watching him step up to the plate.Damn. He’s powerful and confident, totally in his element. And, best of all, I can tell he’s having fun.
“Look at you,” Millie grins. “You’re such a goner.”
“Yup!” I sigh happily. “Here lies Jennifer Walker, slayed by her boyfriend’s hotness. I mean, look!”
“The man can wear a pair of pants,” she agrees.
“I was talking about his athleticism!” I protest, laughing.
“So was I.”
The game gets underway, with plenty of cheers from our section. I’m caught up in the action, rooting for every run. Austin carries the team well, but a few of his teammates have some brutal strikeouts, and by the bottom of the ninth, they’re down by two. And Austin is last up to bat.
I lean forwards, hushing the others as he walks up to plate. I feel as nervous as if I was the one down there on the field.
“Ugh,” Charlie says, wincing. “I forgot how tense this part is.”
“I can’t imagine the pressure,” Grace agrees.
“He’ll be fine,” I tell them quietly. Then, hoping he can feel my reassurance from here, I whisper, “C’mon, baby.”
Austin lets the first pitch fly past—it wasn’t great, but the ump still calls a strike.
“Oh, come on!” Dash yells, as we all scoff.
