25. My Number Looks Good On Her

TWENTY-FIVE

MY NUMBER LOOKS GOOD ON HER

Garrett

My phone buzzes on the coffee table, and I immediately glance at the screen, hoping it's Dessa. When I see the name, my chest goes hollow. It's not her. I debate on answering, but if I don't, there's a good chance Sam Henderson, the third baseman for the Warblers, will only keep calling or worse, stop over. I pick up the phone and press talk.

"Hey, man. What's up?"

"Are you back in town now?" Muffled electric dance music plays in the background.

"Yeah, I flew in earlier this week." I lean against the couch and kick my feet onto the coffee table.

"And I'm just finding out now? I'll forgive you since this is perfect timing. Come out with me and Stallman tonight." Marcus Stallman is the left fielder and on most nights is Henderson's wingman and vice versa. In fact, they try to convince every single guy on the team to go out with them.

I scrub my hand over the scruff on my chin. "I don't know. It's been a busy day. I want to relax at home." And drown myself in misery since I'm not with Dessa.

"Are you still moping about the championship game? Look man, it happens. We'll kick all their asses next year. In the meantime, I have a couple of ladies who are excellent at making you forget all your woes." Faint chatter sounds through the phone speaker.

"Nah, man. Thanks, but I'm not feeling it tonight. I'm just going to stay home."

"Are you sure? These girls are ready to go."

I laugh. Any woman he picks up is ready to go. All he has to do is mention he's the third baseman for Seattle, and they flock to him like seagulls. With that power comes a lot of responsibility, but that's not a word in his vocabulary. Like the one time he unknowingly hooked up with the coach's daughter of our biggest rival.

"Yeah. I'm good."

"Alright. You're missing out. I guess I'll have to occupy both these ladies."

Everyone likes to call me the Home Run Playboy, but Henderson is the biggest playboy in the entire league. He lives by the potato chip motto: you can't have just one.

"Well, actually, I'm kind of seeing someone," I spit out for no reason, because we are seeing each other, right? I'd make her my girlfriend in a heartbeat, but I'm not entirely sure where her head is at.

"Shit! Are you back with the Brazilian model?"

"Camila. "

"Yeah. She's smokin'."

"No. Actually it's not her."

"Oh shit. You should give me her number."

"That's not happening. She's way too good for you."

A boisterous laugh sounds through the speaker. "You're probably right. So, who's the mystery woman?"

I sit up and rest my elbows on my knees. I scrub my hand down my face, trying to determine how much information I want to feed him. "Actually, I know her from my hometown. We grew up together."

"Like a childhood sweetheart?"

"Something like that. I don't know. We're seeing where things go." That's the truth. While we've never discussed our relationship, we definitely have the orgasms down pat.

"Enjoy your night alone, jerking off to some childhood crush fantasy. I'll be out having someone else jerk me off."

I huff out a laugh. "You're such an asshole. Keep your dick in your pants."

"It's more fun when it's not."

I shake my head. He's going to find himself in a heap of trouble, and I'll laugh in his face when he does. "Later." I disconnect the call.

As soon as I set down my phone, it rings again. I'm convinced it's Stallman trying to convince me to go out, but instead, Dessa's name flashes on the screen with a FaceTime call. A wide smile spreads across my face.

"Hey, Tates."

Dessa's beautiful face fills the screen. "Hey. How are you?"

"Much better now that you called."

Her sweet laugh sounds through the speaker. "So, you've been waiting around for me to call?"

"Do I sound desperate if I say yes?"

"Desperate looks good on you." She gives me a sweet smile. "Don't feel bad, I've been desperate to talk to you too. Oh! And I found my notebook earlier today."

I fake cough into my hand to fight the smile that wants to break free. "Where did you find it?"

"It was on a shelf in my kitchen I never use, wedged between two cookbooks. Apparently, my drunk self wanted to play a cruel joke on my sober self." She giggles. "Also, thank you for the present. I got it today. In fact, I'm currently wearing it."

After I ruined her Minnesota jersey, I told her I'd buy her a new one. A better one. Mine.

"Let me see."

She slowly lowers the phone. Her slender neck comes into view, followed by her ample chest. The buttons on the jersey are undone, exposing the valley between her tits. My dick twitches, knowing she's wearing nothing but my name on her back. I reach down and adjust myself in my gym shorts.

"Fuck. Tates. You look amazing. Number seven looks good on you. My dick went instantly hard."

A sparkle twinkles in her dark irises as she nibbles on her bottom lip. "Show me."

"You want to see how hard you make me?"

Her lips press together as her head jerks up and down. "Yes."

I pan the camera to the bulge tenting my shorts. With my hand, I tamp down the fabric to give a better view of my dick. I pull my phone away just enough to catch her tongue peeking out between her luscious lips and sliding her hand over her chest. Her fingertip caresses the edge of the jersey. When she reaches the middle of her chest, she slides the fabric away, exposing her plump breast.

"What are you doing, Tates?" I growl .

Her lashes flutter closed as her fingers circle her nipple. "I wish you were touching me right now."

Somehow, my dick grows achingly harder. I groan, palming myself in need of a little relief.

"I miss you so much, Garrett," she purrs, her teeth sinking into the corner of her bottom lip.

"Fuck, Tates. You look so hot touching yourself while wearing my jersey." I slide my hand into the elastic waistband of my shorts and wrap my fingers around my dick. I squeeze the head, and a bead of pre-cum pearls at the top. Smearing it over my crown, I realize this won't be enough. "If I was in bed with you, what would I be doing to you right now?"

"You'd kiss my neck and then move to the swells of my breasts."

"Show me." While she talks, I rise to my feet and stroll to my bedroom to get more comfortable. I prop myself on my bed against my headboard and bend over to pull a bottle of lube from the nightstand. My gaze follows the trail of her finger over her soft and creamy skin.

"You'd wrap your lips around my nipple and suck." Her back arches when she pinches her stiff nipple.

With one hand, I flip open the top of the bottle of lube and squirt a generous amount on my leg. My body flinches at the cold, but it's better than squirting it directly on my dick. I swipe one hand through it, doing my best to collect it in my palm while still holding my phone with the other. With my fingers wrapped around my fully hard dick, I leisurely stroke myself. "What do I do next?"

"You continue to kiss your way down my body until you reach my pussy." Again, her hand runs down her body until she reaches the apex of her thighs.

My grip on my dick tightens as I continue to leisurely stroke myself. "Is that all I do?" My voice is strained as I anticipate what she's going to say next.

She slides two fingers down her slit. Her breath hitches when she brushes over her clit. "N-no. You run your tongue across my pussy, nipping and sucking me."

"Fuck." I groan. My grip tightens as I increase my speed. "You taste sweet as hell. You got me so hard for you." I lower the phone as I continue stroking myself, so she can see how much she turns me on. When I lift the screen, she has two fingers inside her, thrusting in and out. They're glistening with her arousal. Somehow my dick grows harder. "Keep fucking yourself with your fingers. Pretend it's my dick inside you."

Her head falls against the headboard, and she moans. "Oh! Garrett!" She alternates between rubbing her clit and spearing herself with her fingers.

"Tates. Just like that."

The camera trembles as she moans out her orgasm. I can't take my eyes off her plump lips as they fall open. My name is a whisper on her lips. I imagine it's my fingers thrusting in and out of her pussy, giving her pleasure. I squeeze the base of my cock, picturing her mouth wrapped around me, sliding up and down. A tingle starts at the base of my spine and catapults to my balls as my orgasm roars through me. Ribbons of cum erupt over my stomach.

When we've both catch our breaths, she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. "That was… wow. I can't say I've ever done that before."

I slide my shorts over my hips and use them to wipe off the cum before tossing them on the floor. Tomorrow will be laundry day.

"That was a first for me, too." I grab the edge of the blanket, covering myself from the hips down.

"Is this how it's going to be? You on the road. Me at home. In bed all alone. We'll call each other for phone sex one hundred sixty-two days out of the year."

"I'm sorry. I know it's hard. I want nothing more than to be there with you right now. To hold you in my arms, kiss your neck, and bury my face between your legs."

This time, she lets out a full laugh. "I want that too, so bad."

"It won't be forever."

"You have at least ten more years of playing baseball in you. If that's the case, it's like one thousand six hundred and twenty days of this."

"Are you planning on doing this for ten years?" Maybe she does want more. You don't talk about being in someone's life ten years in the future if you don't expect to be in it.

A pinkish hue flushes over her cheeks. "Hypothetically speaking."

"I have three years left on my current contract, then I don't know what will happen. If I play well enough, they might offer me a new one, or I could get traded."

"Perhaps to Minnesota?" She flashes me a hopeful smile. "Then you'd be somewhat closer."

"Maybe. Their catcher sucks." I wink.

A downward smile tugs at the corners of her lips. "Now I miss you even more. This talk has taken a sharp turn down Depression Drive. How about a change of subject?"

"How about this? Soon I'll see you wearing my jersey, with nothing on underneath, in person."

Her eyes go wide. "Wait. Are you coming back?"

"I'll be in Harbor Highlands on the twenty-third for Christmas." My plan was to surprise her with a visit. Show up unannounced and lock us away in her bedroom for at least twenty-four hours, but the wide grin on her face right now is worth spoiling the surprise.

She squeals. "I might have to buy another Minnesota jersey, so you can rip it off me."

"I will gladly rip off anything you have on. It's like unwrapping my very own present."