21. Casey

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CASEY

It was the last game of the season. But for once, I wasn’t downing antacids like candy. We had a small lead on the second-place team, so even if we lost, we were still in the lead. Our season was in the bag. We were heading to the World Series. And even if we lost that, my career was secured for another year at the very least.

I was finally able to stop worrying about losing and start thinking about winning.

Another thing I couldn’t stop thinking about? Baylor Buchanan. His season was over, so we were safe for the summer, but I wanted to come out about our relationship and take things to the next level. Whatever level that was. But I couldn’t do that without jeopardizing his job.

I glanced up into the stands, and my eyes locked on him immediately. Probably because he was the only one wearing a Padres jersey. The nerve of him! He gave me a small wave, and I tilted my head in his direction. Thank God, he wasn’t calling this game, which meant we might actually have a chance of winning.

The Washington State Woodpeckers were down by four. They still had a chance, unless we could keep our tight lead. Austin ran through his warm-up routine, trading pitches with the catcher until the ump signaled they were out of time. Glancing over his shoulder, he checked his bases, wound his arm back, and let the ball fly across home plate.

The ump motioned for a strike.

His second and third pitches were balls, followed by a hit, but the runner was tagged out before he reached first base. The boys in the dugout cheered Austin.

“All right guys, settle down. I don’t want anything to shake him. He needs to stay focused.”

Austin looked at me, and I nodded, letting him know he was doing great. No matter how incredibly skilled he was, he always sought that boost of confidence from me. He did it with Marcus as well. It told me volumes about the kind of man he was. Submissive, needy, and eager to please. A lot like my Baylor.

Mine ? Yeah, he was mine.

Except there were two striking differences between the two men. Where Austin was a ‘good boy,’ Baylor was a brat through and through.

“I think we’re gonna pull this game out of the bag,” Marley predicted, coming to stand beside me at the fence.

“Hell, we pulled this entire season out of the bag. It’s all icing on the cake from here. ”

Marley laughed. “I’ll believe that when I see it, Coach. Don’t pretend like the World Series is icing. Just a heads up, though: I think the boys have a surprise planned for you if we win.”

“ When ,” I stressed. “ When we win.”

“I almost hope we don’t because I know what the surprise is, and I’m dreading your reaction.”

Jesus Christ. What did they have planned? It was sure to be humiliating if I knew my team.

I had a celebration of my own planned, at home alone with an umpire who had the biggest mouth in the NCAA. I couldn’t wait to get home and get the party started.

Two hours later, my team rushed onto the field when Stavros, our last runner, crossed home plate, ending the game with a three-run lead. Bandy rushed forward with a bag, shoving it at me.

“Congratulations Coach, here’s your celebratory gift.”

I reached into the bag, dreading what I would find, and pulled out a yellow suit covered in feathers. “No, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

“It’s the chicken suit, Coach. Come on, we’ll help you get into it.”

I looked at Marley to rescue me, but he was no help, doubled over laughing. Fuck it. We won! I’d wear the damn suit.

They helped me step into it, securing the back closed, and I tried my damnedest to run the bases without tripping over the big stuffed feet. I could literally feel my tail feathers flapping to and fro as I ran. The fans loved it, and so did my team. That was all that really mattered. I’m sure Baylor loved it even more, understanding and appreciating my humiliation like no one else could. After all, what was more degrading than a giant beak and feathers? I looked like Foghorn fucking Leghorn .

We celebrated at Dixon’s Diner, and I swore three-quarters of the university’s student population showed up. Baylor was there, in the background. It killed me not to drag him to our table and sit him beside me, to share my joy with him. Something had to give.

Buck:

Meet you back at your place.

I found him in the crowd and the look we shared made me hot all over. A promise of things to come.

When I pulled up in my driveway, I was barely out of my truck before Baylor was on me, slamming me against the side. My back hit hard, but I only felt his mouth on mine, his hands in my hair, grasping at me. He suckled my tongue like he did my cock, with hard, greedy pulls. I felt it everywhere, not just in my balls.

When he pulled back to breathe, he gave me a wicked smirk. “You were kind of hot in that chicken suit.”

That was total bullshit. “Oh yeah? How hot?”

“Tell me you’re gonna wreck me.” He sounded breathy and needy, and we hadn’t even gotten naked yet.

“Exactly what I intend to do.” Grasping his jaw firmly, I held his gaze. “Are you going to be my little bitch?”

“Yes,” he breathed, his eyes sparking with heat.

“Do you want me to make you cry again?”

“God, yes.”

Baylor fought against my hold to chase my mouth, and I let him have it. He slid his tongue between my lips, and I practically swallowed it. “Inside, now. While I’m taking Rawlings out, I want you to go upstairs, strip down, and wait for me on the bed.”

As soon as I opened the door, Rawlings attacked me with her tongue. When she saw I was with Baylor, she was beside herself, not knowing who to greet first.

Baylor bent down to cuddle her. “You owe me a foam finger, young lady.” And then he was off to my bedroom while I attached Rawlings’s collar.

Thankfully, it went quickly. She was as eager to return to Baylor as I was. Unfortunately, she would have to wait. I decided to crate her so she wouldn’t cry at the closed bedroom door.

When I walked into my bedroom, Baylor was laid out before me, naked as the day he was born. He was gorgeous, his body made to perfection. Everything about him, besides his smart mouth, called to me. Perfectly sculpted and toned. Just looking at him was enough to make me hard.

Planting my knee on the mattress, I crawled from the end of the bed over his body, fitting myself between his legs. His cock was hard against mine, his body warm, his skin smooth. I fit my mouth to his, sealing our lips. The same rush I always got when I kissed him spread through my body, igniting my blood .

“There’s only one rule I have for you tonight. I want you to agree to it before I even tell you what it is.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because I want your total trust.” One more sweet kiss to his lips. “I want your blind faith. Do you trust me, Baylor?”

“Yes,” he breathed over my lips.

“Whatever happens, whatever I tell you to do, you can’t say no.”

His eyes widened. Was it from shock? Fear? Excitement?

“You can beg, scream, moan, and cry, but you can’t say no.”

“Yes,” he repeated, leaning in to capture my lips again.

I pulled back, trailing kisses down his jaw, nipping at it before kissing down his neck, sucking dark bruises into his skin. When I passed over his chest, my lips latched onto his nipple, suckling each one in turn, until they were aching, hard points. Light teasing kisses down his stomach and at the juncture of his thighs. I nipped at his skin, making his legs twitch. Bracing my arms on either side of his hips, I raised up and then lowered myself down over his cock, lightly sucking it between my lips and releasing it just as quickly. Another push-up and I sucked his tip into my mouth again on the way down.

Baylor chuckled and reached for my head, most likely intending to hold me down on his cock, but I swatted his hands away, pegging him with a hard look. “Don’t touch me. Keep your hands by your sides. ”

I repeated the push-up maneuver several more times, lowering my head enough to give him teasing licks that drove him wild without giving him any satisfaction. His cock was hard and twitching every time my mouth neared. A clear bead of fluid seeped from the tip, and I licked it up. God, he tasted delicious.

Starting at his belly, I traced a path with my finger up his ribs, over his chest, to his mouth. “Suck,” I ordered, dipping my finger between his full lips.

When it was coated with his saliva, I brought my finger to his hole, rubbing it in circles to make it nice and wet. The more pressure I applied, the more he opened for me until my finger finally slipped inside his body. Baylor moaned, clearly loving the feel of the invasion.

“Like that?” He nodded, his eyes closed, head tipped back. I sucked his cock into my mouth again while slipping another finger inside him. “No lube, Baylor. I want you to feel the friction. I want to make you burn. I want to set your ass on fire, so that every time you sit down this week, you curse me.”

“I’m gonna remember the feel of you. Always,” he promised.

He was so perfect. Perfect for me .

My tongue lapped at his sack until he writhed. Sliding my fingers in and out of his body, I worked up to a fast, hard rhythm that had his legs shaking. He tried to bend his knees, to take me deeper, but I held him down.

“Stop trying to call the shots. Remember, I’m in charge, not you. You’re nothing but my bitch. You have no purpose but to follow my orders, take what I give you, and bring me pleasure.”

“Ungh, yes,” he agreed. He loved that shit. Being reminded that he was nothing but a fuck hole.

It amazed me that Baylor, having no previous experience with men, was so open to exploring with me. He was willing to take whatever pleasure or pain I wanted to inflict on him. It exhilarated me, gave me a rush of power, and at the same time, a streak of tenderness toward him for his trust and his loyalty. I felt like we were building something together. Something special. Something that I hoped was a long way from being finished.

“I think you’re stretched wide enough to take my cock. Might be a tight fit, but I’ll enjoy listening to you cry about it.”

He moaned low in his throat, and I smiled, amused that he was turned on by the thought of hurting for me. I wouldn’t really make him hurt, not terribly anyway. The point was to stress that I didn’t care about his pain and discomfort. That his pleasure didn’t matter. It was part of the mindset I needed to put him in, in order to break him down and build him back up again. It was in those moments when he felt lowest, the most exposed and vulnerable, that he could feel the most pleasure.

“Turn over. I don’t want to look at your face. I want to see your ass. Show me my hole.”

“Fuck,” he muttered, scrambling to turn onto his stomach. He even popped his ass up for me and spread his thighs wide. Perfect .

Gathering all the saliva in my mouth, I spit onto his hole, letting it drip down his crease. Using my thumbs, I pulled his pucker wide open and spit again, letting it slip inside of him. Lining my cock up with his ass, I pushed against his rim until it gave way. Baylor cried out, balling up the sheets in his fists until his knuckles turned white.

I slid all the way inside until I bottomed out before slipping back out again. Every time I entered him, I had to breach him all over again, stretching him each time. And each time he cried out. His rim was red and glossy with spit. He looked amazing. When I pulled out, his hole spasmed around the empty space, as if searching for something to fill it back up again.

“You love getting fucked like this, face down, hiding in shame.” I plunged into his body and pulled back out again, smacking his ass cheek and leaving a red handprint behind. “I bet you wish I would fuck you with something thicker than my cock. Maybe a dildo because I know how much you love the burn of being stretched. You’re nothing but an empty hole for me to stick my cock in. Isn’t that right?”

“ Yesssss ,” he hissed as I entered him again. “Your empty hole.”

“I’ve played with you long enough. It’s time to take what I want.” I plunged back in again, gripped his hips, and began to fuck him hard. Brutally hard. His whole body was forced forward, the pillows the only thing cushioning him from hitting the headboard. “Goddamn, you’re tight. Feels so good squeezing my cock.”

“Fuck me, Coach. Use me. Come inside me.”

I thrust into him so hard his knees buckled, and we both collapsed onto the mattress. He bore my weight as I fucked into him, twining my legs around his calves for leverage. My teeth bit into his earlobe.

“Take my cock, take my cum. Gonna make you my bitch. Breed you like my bitch.”

“Yes. Yes, yes,” he shouted.

His shouts drowned mine out as I came inside him, his tight warm ass clenching around my cock, milking it dry. I reached beneath him and grabbed his cock, jacking it until he came in a puddle on the sheets.

Rolling off his body so I could lie beside him, I turned him to face me, resting my sweaty forehead against his. I couldn’t speak, still trying to catch my breath, but I didn’t need to. This was enough. Simply touching him. Listening to his breathing even out. Feeling the heat from his skin.

“You realize when I said we’re dating, that means exclusively. There’s no one else, Baylor.”

“I hope that goes both ways.”

I snorted and looked into his eyes. “Why would I want anyone else? I’ve got everything I need right here.”

He smiled smugly. “I knew if I just kept wearing you down, one day, you would fall for me.”

That didn’t sound borderline psychotic at all. “I didn’t fall for you, you fucking tripped me!”

He chuckled. “Are you trying to pick a fight or flirt with me?”

“How can you tell the difference?” I asked, smiling at him.

He breathed out a long sigh, sounding completely satisfied. “I could lie here with you forever.”

“Forever?” Sounded good to me.

“Or until we get hungry.” He popped a kiss on my lips. “Go get your dog.”

“My dog?”

“Yeah, your dog. I’m done being the bitch. It’s her turn and I want cuddles.”