Chapter 5

5

Cash

Ican’t concentrate on the upcoming game.

I’m standing in the outfield stretching, but all I can see is Scout in the seat behind the dugout, licking an ice cream. My breaths flow harshly to my ears, deafening me. I’m sweating, even though it’s a cool evening. Cool enough that there is a breeze fluttering the edges of Scout’s short, white pleated skirt. She’s all I can see. All I can think about.

This has been the case since I met her.

But it’s different now. My God, it’s very different.

For one, I never imagined she’d laugh with me. We laughed. In that precious moment in my bedroom, I could see us married, living in a house surrounded by a white picket fence, a dog snoozing at our feet, a fat diamond on her finger.

I groan with pure ecstasy into my leather glove, willing the image to subside, before I get an erection in front of a crowd of thousands. All eyes are on me. I’m the chosen one, the shortstop with the golden bat, the player with the promise of ending up in the majors. Even now, my image and my stats are on the jumbotron, people are calling my name from the stands. But I’m not here. I’m back in bed with my girl. I’m feeling her giggle pass all the way through me…and stab me in the heart like a dagger.

Because as blissfully normal as that moment was, we are not normal.

I am not normal.

I’m Scout’s stalker. I’m violently and irrevocably obsessed with her.

Violent and sick enough to enjoy watching her struggle for breath and wonder if she deserves to be scared as payback for sinking her claws into me so deeply. Ravaging me, ruining me, turning me into a beast that lives to lick her skin, put marks on it. Watch her squirm for pleasure. Suck her whimpers down my fucking throat, so I can own them forever.

Christ, I don’t even know myself anymore.

And even more crazy and unexpected, she doesn’t know herself anymore, either.

Scout enjoyed me being in control of her next breath.

Our sinister playtime excited her.

She was ready to fuck, ready for anything I decided to do to her. In the space of an afternoon, I’ve become her Daddy. Her protector. Her man. She’s looking at me right now, licking that ice cream, and she must know it’s making me hot. She must. I make an excuse that I need to tape my fingers and leave the stretching circle, jogging to the dugout, saluting a group of students who chant my name as I pass. I have tunnel vision, though. See nothing but Scout.

My little submissive.

That’s what she is, isn’t she?

I’m the dominant one and something inside of me must have known she’d be my perfect complement. My only complement. The counterpart I’d need to survive. And the fact that I need her beyond reason becomes even more startlingly obvious as I reach the dugout and we lock eyes over the roof, her tongue covered in white ice cream as she licks, looking right at me. The breeze causes her skirt to dance higher on her thigh and a bead of sweat rolls straight down the center of my forehead. My balls squeeze in my jock strap, which suddenly feels extra tight. Like I could tear the seams if she continues her torture.

And she does.

Maybe she doesn’t even realize she’s doing it, licking her treat and shifting in her seat, but every flip of her hair or flutter of her eyelashes is like a lash of a whip to my sanity. I’m salivating. I’m about to rip the roof off this dugout and all I can think is, why didn’t I skip this game? So I’m being scouted. So what? Nothing matters without her. Nothing matters unless I’m surrounded by her, inside of her, consuming her.

“You all right, son?” my coach asks, coming up beside me, spitting a sunflower seed at the speed of bullet. “You can’t be distracted tonight. We’ve got three major league scouts behind home plate. They’re here specifically for you.”

“I know.”

The coach exits the dugout in order to follow my line of sight. “Ah. I see. It’s a girl that’s taking up your thoughts.”

“You have no idea.”

He makes a sound in his throat. I’m staring at Scout, so I can’t see his face, but I know he’s watching me closely. Maybe even clocks the obsession that I’m incapable of hiding, especially now that I know she likes to be roughed up. By me.

“Listen, son,” he says, dropping his voice. “We’ve got thirty minutes to the first pitch. If you want to bring her into my office to get some relief, we can get your focus back where it needs to be. On this game.”

My cock thickens, my stomach muscles rippling with hunger for that fucking pussy. “But the office is in the locker room. Everyone is going to head in soon.”

He shrugs. “Keep the light off and keep her quiet.”

There’s a part of me that wants to wrap my hands around his throat and choke the life out of him for talking about my female like he knows anything about her. But I’m too horny now. Too desperate and sweaty and hard. And I’m already crooking a finger at Scout, signaling her toward the edge of the dugout. At first, she looks confused, but she does as she’s told, rising from her plastic seat and coming closer. Closer. Until I can catch her by the wrist and tug, hard, toppling her down from the stands into the dugout. Into my arms.

A ripple of shock goes through the crowd, but the roar of starvation is louder in my ears, drowning everything out as I stride down the hallway carrying Scout.

“What are you doing?” she breathes.

Almost there. Office in view. “What I need to do.”

“Which is?”

“Spreading your legs.”

The ice cream is melting down her knuckles by the time we make it into my coach’s office and I kick the door closed behind me. I throw her ass down onto the top of his desk, reach underneath that mindfuck of a skirt and tear open the crotch of her panties.

“Cash!”

“Lick that ice cream again. Do it. Lap it up off your fingers.” I drag her to the edge of the desk, snapping my teeth against her little ripe cunt, watching it clench with mounting lust. Enough to capsize an ocean liner. “Every time you lick that ice cream, I’ll lick your clit. You can have my cock when the ice cream is all gone.”

She’s still reeling from the last minute of her life, but her lashes are fluttering, and her hips begin to twist on the desk, ever so lightly, the prospect of being licked between her thighs too tempting to dismiss. I groan when that pink tongue peeks out and takes a healthy lick of the mostly eaten ice cream. Unable to break eye contact with her, I gently saw my tongue between her folds, parting them and making contact with her sensitive nub.

“Ohhhh,” she whines, arching her back. “Oh, that feels so good.”

“Keep licking and I’ll do the same, angel.”

She nods, eyes unfocused, and begins to lap eagerly at the ice cream, the scoop nearly even with the top of the cone now. Keeping my eye on her and that eager tongue, I mimic her movements, plastering the flat of my tongue over her clit and sliding it up, back, up, back, seeing her thighs flex in my periphery.

Voices are beginning to approach from a distance, no doubt my teammates are entering the locker room for the final pep talk before the game, but I don’t give a fuck about anything but her juicy little cunt and the way she’s licking that ice cream, so lost in the sensation of me servicing her. Vanilla streaks are dripping down her chin, the way my come is going to do one day very soon. God yeah, she’s going to suck my giant cock like she was born for it. Same way I was born to slick the tip of my tongue through her flesh, reveling in the increase of moisture and the heave of her titties, the way she cries out and drops the ice cream cone onto the desk, not a drop of vanilla left anywhere but her chin.

“A-are there people coming?” she asks, twisting around on the desk to look through the wall of windows looking out into the locker room.

“Shhh,” I say, capturing her fragile jaw and turning her to face me again. “You look at me and nothing else. If I brought you here for a fuck, you trust me that it’s safe. Understand?”

After a beat, she nods. “Yes, Cash.”

The controlling predator inside me growls in victory. “You’re a mess, all covered in ice cream, vanilla all over that chin. It’s going to look just like that between your thighs in a few minutes.” I press her knees open wide, licking my lips over the way the ripped crotch of her panties allows me to expose her, not a secret left for her to keep. “But there’s going to be a little cherry syrup mixed in soon, isn’t there, baby?”

A flush appears on her cheeks. “Yes.”

The locker room is full now, my teammates horsing around, shoving each other. Someone has turned on Lil Wayne. If they cupped their eyes and peered into the office, they’d see me and Scout, but my dick is too hard to stop or question the wisdom or depravity of what I’m doing. If I don’t get my seed into her before the first pitch, I’ll be useless. Hell, I might be useless no matter what, because I doubt one fuck is going to be enough to sustain me for the next few hours. I’m going to be a fiend for this girl. I’m going to burn alive forever.

With a snarl, I lean in and capture her mouth, using my tongue to open it wide and accept my assault while I’m unfastening my uniform pants. She’s all worked up from having her cunt licked out, so she kisses me back eagerly, even though there is a room full of men mere yards away. As soon as my cock is free, I recline her back a few inches and guide my tip to her hole, rubbing a circle around that pretty, wet breach.

“Don’t make a fuss,” I grunt, pressing into her tight center, gritting my teeth at the pleasurable pain she’s causing me. “Just take me like God intended. With your thighs open and your mouth shut.”

“Oh…” She squirms at the discomfort. “Oh!”

“Yes, Daddy, is the response you’re looking for.”

“Yes, Daddy,” she hisses, struggling a little as I fill her full of my inches. “Y-yes.”

I inhale her, slanting a kiss over her mouth while I thrust the remaining distance, occupying her completely—and the barrier rips gently, accompanied by her soft cry of my name. And it’s like glass shattering in my head. I’ve blasted through the ceiling of my obsession and blasted into outer space. “Mine now. You are mine. Mine. Oh, my fucking God, you’re tiny here. My tight angel, aren’t you? Jesus Christ. I can’t even believe I got it in. Can’t even pump, baby, don’t lock up on me. Let me ride.”

She shifts against me, her hands dancing around on my shoulders. “I don’t know how. It’s so big. I didn’t know it would be so big!”

“You’ll get used to me.”

“I don’t know...”

“Look at me, angel. Focus on me.” I wait until she does what she’s told, though her tits are still heaving up and down in her tank top. “Ignore the pain and think about what we’re doing. I’m giving you your first fuck, Scout. You made me so stiff, I had to drag you down here to fill you with dick.” I rear back and start to slap home, watching the mixture of pain and curiosity flicker in her eyes. I watch her transform from unsure to brave to bold, looking down at my shaft as it tunnels into her fuck hole, thick and monstrous compared to her smooth, sexy mound. “Your pussy was made for this. Shaped just for me. It was time to let me have it.”

A little moan escapes her. “It’s starting to feel so much better.” Her breath catches, a tremble jiggling through her thighs. “Ohhhh. Keep…keep doing that.”

I gather her closer, keeping the angle but allowing myself to grind on her clit with every thrust and she squeals, literally, the girlish sound loud in the small office. Vaguely, I can hear my teammates wondering out loud about the sound…and now the desk is rocking on the floorboards, too, along with the heavy grunts I can’t control. My hips thrust and retreat, angling down, my forearm corralling her to the edge of the desk, my lower body beginning to unhinge itself, ass swinging back and pounding forward, down, the pace turning wild.

She’s not timid anymore, not a single complaint about pain.

No, she’s looking me right in the eye like she wants it harder. Like she’s fucking challenging me, as if she doesn’t like me holding back. She’s looking at me with a horny, half-lidded little pout like she’s daring me to burn her world down—and I’m all too willing to make that happen. I’ve been going half speed because she’s a virgin, she’s my world, but that ends when I draw her ankles up and prop them on my shoulders, pressing down over her and rutting her tight hole like it offends me. A scream hiccups in her throat, then belts out in a stuttering pattern, and it’s music to my ears.

“That’s right. I’ll fucking wreck you.”

“Ohhhh. Please, Cash! Cash! Harder.”

My coach had begun his pep talk, I see, but it cuts off now.

Everyone turns to face the office, frowning, curious. Some of them are smiling slyly.

“They all hear us now, angel,” I say, my balls smacking off her tight ass. “They think I’m in here, fucking some groupie slut. Because virgins don’t usually scream to get a cock harder. And they damn sure don’t bend over in a skirt and ripped panties for their first time.”

“I’m not…I’m not bent over in a—”

I let her ankles drop from my shoulders, using the momentum to flip her around, pressing her face down over the desk and slamming into her from behind, shocking her onto her tiptoes with a throaty whimper. “Yeah, they think you’re some faceless brat I snuck down here for a quickie, but that’s not it at all,” I say, leaning down to rasp the truth into her neck. “I’m giving it nasty to the girl of my dreams. The girl who locked me down with a smile on day one. That’s who I’m inside of. That’s why it feels so fucking good.” I rake my open mouth all over her. Over her hair, the nape of her neck. “I love you, Scout. Baby, I love you. I fucking love you so much.”

That confession has opened a floodgate of emotion and physical release and immediately, I know I only have a few more thrusts into her slickness before I come. Determined to give her relief first and always, I reach down and massage her clit, which I’m praying is still sensitive from my tongue, and thank God it is, because she orgasms with a moaning shudder, her wet warmth sliding down the tips of my fingers, coating my digits all the way to my knuckles, making me groan like an animal.

She’s perfection.

She’s mine. My life.

I bust. There’s no other word for it. I feel like a bomb goes off in my loins, setting loose a sea of relief so powerful, it busts through every dam, every barrier, my body collapsing forward onto hers, pinning her to the desk while my hips ram her from behind, eager beastly sounds mixing with smacks of stomach meeting ass. Balls bouncing off everything.

“FUCK!” I bellow, feeling turned inside out. Alive. More alive than ever.

Emptied.

But somehow still burning alive with need for her. Starving.

She’s given me an edge so sharp, there’s no sanding it down. It remains.

I start to repeat how much I adore her, love her, but there’s a tentative knock on the office door. “Three minutes to game time, Jenner.”

“Yeah,” I call back raggedly, swiping sweat from my upper lip, turning Scout over in my arms. “Hey.” Why isn’t she looking at me? “Hey. Angel. Give me your eyes. What’s going on?” Panic assails me, spinning the office around me in a circle. “Are you okay?”

“Yes.” Finally, her green eyes shine up at me, earnest and beautiful. “I’m great. I’m incredible. I didn’t know it would be like that.”

“It will only be like that with each other,” I say, kissing her hard.

Making sure she hears me.

“Good luck tonight,” she whispers.

I nod, every cell in my body screaming at me not to leave her. To bring her home, damn the game to hell. But I want to give her everything. I want her to have comfort and luxury and stability. Getting recruited will enable me to do that. “Stay where I can see you.”

“I will,” she whispers.

“For the rest of your life,” I say against her mouth.

And then, though it kills me, I leave the center of my universe to go play a baseball game, knowing my mind will be on her the whole time.

Today, tomorrow, until I take my last breath.