Page 146 of Hiding in the Outfield

“Someone was prepared,” Jackson says, a teasing lilt in his tone. He finally turns, and his jaw drops, a strangled noise erupting from him.

I sigh happily and tug down on one side of my waistband. His stare lasers in on the movement. I will never get over the reverent way this man looks at me.

“I-I haven’t seen those before,” he rasps.

I snap the bottom strap of my new jockstrap. “I had a little time to go shopping this morning. One of my favorite underwear stores is out here in San Fran.”

They’re a pretty pattern—Fun Fetti the design is called. And Frankie is very much fun fetti. They’re also very small. Not exactly the jockstraps you see in the locker room. Well, that and it’s missing the main purpose those jockstraps serve. A cup.

Nope. These show off one-hundred percent Frankie.

Jackson drops to his knees in front of me, hands sliding up my thighs and over my hips, fingers trailing under the straps. “Oh my God.” His words are faint and disbelieving, and I might press my hips forward the tiniest bit because a man only has so much restraint.

“I know. I have a pretty package, don’t I?” I tease.

“It’s a fucking crime,” he murmurs, then leans forward and grazes his teeth over the small elastic waistband.

His tongue dips out, and I inhale sharply. He mouths the soft—and thin, might I add—fabric covering my dick.

“You, uh, might want to hurry and remove these before they snap right off,” I manage roughly.

Does he listen? Of course not. He massages my ass and continues to nuzzle and mouth my dick. The heat of his mouth is like a brand through my jockstrap. He traces me with his tongue, and my fingers fist his hair. It’s utter torture, the wicked glide of his tongue, the swirl of it over my crown, but with a small barrier dulling the sensation. Tease. The most tormenting tease. And he knows. The sinful glint in his darkening blue eyes screams naughty boy.

He nips at my hip and then snags my waistband with his teeth. He tugs lightly, eyes still locked on mine. They glimmer with a playfulness that has my heart loosely swooping in my chest like a leaf fluttering to the ground. Then he lets out a soft growl and shakes his head back and forth. A laugh bursts from me. My playful Newfoundland puppy.

I cup his cheek, and despite how hot my body is burning from him, all I feel in this moment is tenderness.

“I love you,” I whisper.

He gently lets go of my waistband, hands coming up to cradle my hips. “I love you, too, Frankie.” His brow furrows, eyes shining beseechingly. I see the question flickering across those blue irises. The quiet fear.

Insurmountable hurdles are rising before us. But there’s only one thing that matters.

“Do you want to make this work?” I whisper.

His fingers tighten, claws digging in as he nods furiously.

I stroke through his dark waves, fingernails scoring his scalp. His eyes flutter shut for a breath.

“We’re going to figure this out, Jackson.” All that matters is that we both want this. “Together.”

His cheek flexes in a movement I know means he’s biting it—hard.

“Not right now, dolcezza. For now, let me love you.”

He drops his forehead to my hip, hand skating in small circles on my thigh.

There is an endless list of things we have to figure out. But for now, I just want to disappear into this safe little bubble of us. To pretend life isn’t complicated, and all that matters is how we feel about each other.

“Okay,” he whispers into my skin.

Then he slowly peels off my underwear. His fingertips slide featherlight up and down my achingly hard dick. He licks the groove where my thigh meets my hip, then drags his lips down to tongue the base of me. He loosely strokes me and pulls me out of the way as he skims wet lips over my balls, tongue gently curling around them until he sucks them into his mouth. A deep, rough groan vibrates through me, and my head falls back.

The hand he still has cupping my ass slides toward my crease. He pauses, fingers latching onto my cheek and squeezing twice. Our little way of asking for permission.

“Not tonight, loverboy.” With all the traveling, fast food, and out-of-routine eating, I’m just not feeling comfortable with that today.

His fingers retreat, and he lets my balls slip from his mouth. He gives the tip of my dick a quick kiss and then stands. He guides me back until my thighs hit the mattress. His mouth finds mine, a graze of lips, then he sucks on my bottom one, flicking his tongue over it.