Page 156 of Hiding in the Outfield

My muscles tighten, and that all-too-familiar buzzing starts up under my skin. My balls ache so badly I swear they feel like they’re going to explode, my dick swollen and angry, throbbing with need. I’m so close.

Frankie abruptly backs off. I fall limp to the bed, panting like I just got done with sprints. And the look he sends me. Fuck. His eyes are so dark, they’re nothing but black. His lips are shiny, cheeks flushed. His hair is falling dangerously over his brow, and he looks like he wants to eat me. I suppose he kind of was.

He slowly swipes the back of his hand across his lips. “You taste so good, amore. There’s a reason I call you dolcezza.”

My cock jerks, muscles locking tight. “Nrgh. Fuck, Frankie. You can’t look at me like that.” I can feel that look. It slides over my dick, tantalizing, teasing, torturing.

He smirks as he squeezes some lube on his fingers. “Me looking at you like that is what started this all to begin with, Jackie-boy.”

Isn’t that the truth. One look. And I was hooked.

For life.

He leans over me, planting one arm on the bed, the other falling between my thighs. He drags his lips over mine, and I pick up a slight hint of me on his mouth.

“There’s nothing sweeter than your taint, loverboy.”

“I h-hadn’t realized that was a thing,” I say breathlessly.

His grin is wolfish. “Maybe next time I’ll make you come that way. But for now…”

His fingers start massaging in slow circles. Zings skitter over my skin, my nerves crackling. My body instantly relaxes, and an ache I’ve never felt before builds, an empty ache. Like my body’s anticipating those fingers breaching me, knows what bliss it’s about to get.

He sinks one finger in, and I squirm. Not enough. Not fast enough.

“More,” I beg.

So he does. I take a second finger easily, and he slowly works me open.

He groans into my mouth as he skims lightly over my prostate, which has me bucking on his fingers.

“Fuck.” His forehead falls to mine. “I think you’re going to kill me.”

He continues stretching me, his thumb slipping up to press on my taint. My body jolts as white-hot pleasure streaks through me, there and gone so fast it’s like whiplash.

“I’m g-going to kill you?” I ask hoarsely. “Think it’s the other way around.”

I literally don’t know how much more of this I can take. There’s a messy puddle of precum on my stomach, my dick is such a violent shade of red I probably should be concerned, and if he puts too much pressure on my prostate, I will blow my load, and this will be over before it’s begun.

“Need. In. Now,” I grit as I do my best to keep the rolling pleasure from cresting.

He grabs the lube and squeezes more into his palm. He goes to spread it over his own swollen shaft—and freezes. “Shit. Condom. I don’t have a condom.”

“Oh my God!” I screech. “We don’t need a fucking condom. Just fuck me already, Frankie. There was no one before you, and there’s definitely not going to be anyone after you. There damn well better not be for you either. So. Fuck. Me. Now.”

He blinks at me. Then he props a hand on his hip and arches a brow. “Wow. Bossy bottom, Jackie.”

I bare my teeth and growl.

His lips curl, and he shoots me a wink, then adds a sexy little lip bite at the end. I swear to the baseball gods, I’m going to shove his dick in me at this point. He’s taking too long.

He coats his dick, his rich chuckle rumbling through the room, and I just glare at him. He presses his tip to my hole and rocks his hips. My nerve endings light up.

“Remember what we’ve talked about,” he murmurs. “Relax for me, baby.”

I press against him, and he sucks in a harsh breath. He slips past the tight ring of muscles, and it does burn, but it’s a good burn. I’m an athlete. I know what that satisfying stretch of muscles feels like. I know the relief that comes after. I let out a breath, and bear down, will myself to go completely lax.

He slips farther in and slams his eyes shut. “Okay,” he says tightly. “I am not going to last long.”