Page 55 of Hiding in the Outfield

I’m silent for a while, and we just watch each other.

“Why are you hesitating?” he finally whispers.

Because I’m jealous of the imaginary guy who’ll one day get to experience that with him. Which is ridiculous. I’ve just admitted it’s not really my thing. But I think I’m a little bit greedy when it comes to this man. I’ve wanted a piece of him for so long, and now that I’m getting my chance? I want all the pieces.

Frankie doesn’t share.

Not when it comes to Jackson Elliot Olander.

“I promise. But it’s not off the table. I’ll just let you know if it’s ever something I want. How about that?”

“I think I can live with that.”

I huff out a laugh. “All right. What about you? Obviously, we have fingering and frotting and blowjobs, oh my.”

He chuckles. “That’s a very different Wizard of Oz than I’m used to.”

“A more fun one.” I wink. “But do you want me to top you?”

“Ummm…Yes?”

“Don’t sound so confident, love.”

“Sorry. I do want to try. I think I’m just a little more nervous than I already was after what you just said.”

My hand flies to his chest. “No. Jackie-babe. It’s completely an individual thing. And I know for a fact it had more to do with me picking some real winners or not communicating. If we get to that point, I promise I will do everything possible to make it mind-blowing for you. Trust me, I know many men who love bottoming. I know quite a few women who love anal too. And, hey, if it’s not your jam, then you’ll know.”

He instantly melts back into the bed and kisses my shoulder. “You’re right. I’m in good hands with you.”

I bite my lip. “You have no idea, love,” I whisper. “These hands are going to take the best care of you.”

His lips curve against my shoulder. “This is why I wanted it this way and not…with some random.”

“I got you, boo. Frankie at your service, for whatever servicing you require.”

His deep chuckle fills the room.

“Also. If you do ever want to talk to a man who loves being dicked down—just to get another perspective—I recommend talking to Shaney-babe. If I’m not mistaken, he has a shrine dedicated to Jed’s dick.”

TWENTY

JACKSON

That’s an interesting thought. For more than one reason. It’s been almost a week of this with Frankie: the sleeping over, kissing, being cozy on the couch together—in front of everyone. It was tough to let go like that, but it was what I needed. Everyone here, even a reluctant Nebs, has let me gain my bearings with nothing but support. It almost felt like each day I was able to remove one more layer of armor I’d built around myself.

Jerking off together was hot as all hell. It was the perfect way to ease me into this, and Frankie’s perceptiveness just adds to the trust I have in him. Which means…

I’m ready for more.

But…after what Frankie just admitted, the competitive athlete in me is rising to the surface. I want to make sure whatever we do together is good for him. What he described sounded horrible. I know he’d speak up now, so there’s that, but with my inexperience I’m sure to fumble. Or just be completely unaware of something I could be doing. I think I need to bring in some back up. Go to the veterans.

I check my phone. It’s 9:30 a.m., and it’s Saturday. Urgh. We have an evening game, so the rest of the guys are probably still sleeping. Hopefully, they don’t hate me too much for this.

I plant a quick kiss on Frankie’s lips. “I’ll be right back.”

I hop out of bed and head for the door.

“Where are you going?”