26. Pink

Pink

W hoever had come up with idea of grown adults paddling oversized pumpkins across a river deserved a fucking Nobel Prize.

It was the day of the Giant Pumpkin Regatta, and I, for one, was thoroughly enjoying myself. Delicious drinks, fall festivities, and a beautiful woman by my side—it didn’t get much better than that.

“Go, June, go,” Nessa screamed. I leaned away when she cupped her hands around her mouth. “ Move your ass! ”

I had never seen this competitive, fangirl side of her before, not even at my games. Then again, even I could admit that pumpkin racing was more entertaining than most baseball games.

“She gets like this with board games, too,” Clarke whispered.

“Oh, really?”

She nodded. “She’s a menace when it comes to Hedbanz.”

“Are you talking about me?” Nessa snapped at us.

“No,” we answered in tandem.

The withering look she shot my way should have made me quiver in my khakis. Instead, it turned me on. If Nessa wanted to punish me, you wouldn’t hear me complaining. She could spank me any day of the week that ended in “y.”

For the next few minutes, we watched as June paddled herself to victory, ruthlessly taking down a twelve-year-old in the process. She rushed over to us after the race, waving her plastic trophy over her head like Rocky Balboa.

From what Nessa had told me, June had been one hell of an athlete in high school and college. Judging by that performance, she still was. She had even extended an invite to join her CrossFit class after the season ended.

“Are you proud of yourself?” Nessa asked her. “You made Miles and Myron’s granddaughter cry.”

“Well, she should have known better than to mess with the reigning champ.”

“Brutal, dude.” She enthusiastically returned my high five.

Nessa bounded over to me and threaded her arms around my back. She shivered when I brushed the loose curls away from her neck and nuzzled the spot with a featherlight touch.

The last few days with Nessa had been a welcome distraction from the week ahead, not to mention the dreams that had kept me up late. I hadn’t dreamt of my father in years—talk about shitty timing—and yet for three nights now, I had woken up in a cold sweat before five a.m.

The only thing that seemed to help was Nessa—nobody else would do. When I was with her, I craved her touch. When we were apart, all I could think about was the next time we would be together.

I fell asleep thinking about her hands in my hair, her peachy lips tracing my tattoos. Hell, her presence alone was enough to ground me.

She traced my lips with her fingers after June and Clarke excused themselves for some celebratory bao buns.

“Want to make out in the corn maze?”

Laughter shook my entire body. “You know me so well, angel.”

We walked hand in hand toward the corn maze. Today’s Buns and Roses festivities took place on the outskirts of Rose City, on one of the farm properties we had toured during our triple date with Soren, Clarke, Kaylani, and Ryan. Only this time, Nessa was my real girlfriend.

“Alright, baseball boy,” she teased when we reached the entrance to the maze. “Right or left?”

“You designed this.”

She had shown me the aerial view of the maze just the other night. The field of corn had been strategically cut into the shape of a rose, with the words “Rose City” written above it.

“Did you think I was going to give you clues?” She clucked her tongue. “Besides, I’m kind of hoping you pick the wrong direction. You know, for more privacy.”

I held her chin steady with two fingers. “You want to ravish me in the cornfield, angel?”

“Absofuckinglutely.”

After a few wrong turns, we finally found our first arrow. They were set up throughout the maze along with some quirky trivia questions about Rose City. The correct answers dictated which direction to take next.

But neither of us cared where we ended up. In fact, we had barely come up for air since entering the cornfield.

“You know,” I said between kisses. “I think I had a dream like this once.”

“Got a thing for scarecrows?”

“Typically? No.” My hands coasted over the lush curves of her ass. It would be so easy to lift her skirt up and bury my knuckles inside her weeping pussy. “You dressed as a scarecrow?” I shrugged. “I might be able to get on board with that.”

“Speaking of dreams . . .” She hesitated before adding, “Are you going to tell me what’s been keeping you up at night?”

I cleared my throat. “You noticed that?”

She nodded. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No, but I will.”

A woman and her two children raced past us, doubling back for a quick photo and autograph. It was the reprieve I needed to gather my thoughts. Thinking about my dad was an emotional struggle unto itself; talking about him usually ended in tears.

“I’ve been dreaming about my dad,” I told her when we were finally on our own.

“Woah. That’s unexpected.”

“Yeah.”

This wasn’t the first time we had discussed my family. I talked about Bella and our mother all the time, but Dad was a different story. Nessa knew about the emotional and financial abuse he had put us through, but even then, I had kept the details as vague as possible. She didn’t need the extra emotional burden. She wasn’t my therapist. In fact, it had been a while since my last session with Dr. Dave, though after the recent disruption in my sleep patterns, it couldn’t hurt to give him a call.

I clung to Nessa’s hand like a lifeline. “It’s going to sound stupid, but with the playoffs and everything, I guess . . . I wish he were around to share this phase of my life with me.”

She smiled weakly. “That’s not stupid.”

We stopped when we reached another dead end. How fitting.

“I don’t think we ever grow out of the whole ‘kids wanting to make their parents proud’ kind of thing,” she said. “I know I haven’t. I constantly think about what my mom and GG would say about my choices. Too much, probably.”

“And would they like me?”

Her smile widened. “Too much, probably.”

I walked us backward until her plush bottom collided with the next arrow with enough momentum to spin it in the opposite direction. Looks like some children are getting lost in the corn today.

“I don’t know if it will make a difference, but just so you know, I’m proud of you.”

“Is that right?”

“Mm-hmm,” she mumbled just before her lips met mine. “You never cease to impress me.”

She hummed low in her throat when I kissed her back. The sound hit me like a bullseye straight to the dick. I skimmed my fingers through her hair, wound them through the long copper strands, and tugged. Not too roughly, just enough to tilt her head back and deepen our kiss.

Forget late-night showers and mounds of potatoes slathered in cheese. There was no better feeling than this. I pitied the fools who had never known the taste of Nessa’s lips, who would never know what they were missing because she was mine. All mine.

When her hand scraped across my erection, I tore my mouth from hers. “What about the maze?”

“Would you rather finish the maze or fuck me?”

“Maybe I want you to fuck me.”

Her eyes flared with heat. She knew exactly what I was asking for. I’d had my eyes on that dildo of hers since the first time we’d fucked.

She blinked once, twice, and then tugged me into the corn, back toward the direction we’d come from.

“Um,” I said around a laugh. “Pretty sure the exit is the other way, angel.”

“Forget the exit.” My cock threatened to bust free of its confines when she turned over her shoulder and grinned wickedly. “I know a shortcut.”

She edged me for over an hour. There was a good chance I might never make it to the World Series because I was going to spontaneously combust any second now if she didn’t let me come.

“ Fuck , baby.” My fingers clenched in her hair as her mouth bobbed up and down my cock. “Can you take me deeper?”

She looked up at me from the bottom of the bed and gave a soft hum of approval.

It turned me on to know that she was enjoying this as much as I was. Her enthusiasm knew no bounds . . . and neither did her gag reflex. Nessa was a world-class cock sucker—ten out of ten, no notes, would come again. Literally. Assuming she let me come now first.

Saliva pooled in the corners of her lips. This time, when I guided her head back down, she took me all the way to the back of her throat.

“That’s it, angel,” I told her, my chest heaving with every stunted breath. “Just like that.”

My vision blurred when she swallowed around my length. She didn’t stop there. She continued licking and sucking, laving me root to tip, all while teasing my balls with the hand that wasn’t wrapped around the base of my dick. And just when I thought she might finally take me over the finish line, her lips popped off me altogether.

“ Nessa, fuck.” She laughed and wiped at the string of saliva drawing a line to my cock. “Are you trying to torture me?”

“Maybe a little.”

She licked her lips, looking entirely too pleased with herself. There was no confusing who was in charge here.

“Are you ready for more?” Her smile made me feel invincible.

“I’m ready for everything.”

She got up from the bed and adjusted her Velcro waistband. I had helped her slip into the harness earlier, in between me eating her out in the hallway and her giving me the blow job of the century. She looked powerful—goddess-like, even—clad only in the jock-style strap-on harness, complete with the purple dildo she kept in her bedside drawer.

Thick thighs. Round belly. Perfect tits.

Was there a goddess of dildos and strap-ons? Pegadosia, perhaps.

A sudden image of her book club rattled through my mind, and even though I was still turned on—painfully so—there was no stopping the laugh that ripped out of me.

Chekhov’s dildo.

“What’s so funny?”

I gestured to the dildo in her hand. “Chekhov’s dildo.”

“I told you so,” she said around a cheeky smile.

The things I wanted to do to this woman. The things I wanted her to do to me. Only Nessa could make me laugh like a moron while waiting to get my ass fucked. My gaze never wavered from hers even as she lubed up her silicone cock. Her eyes, on the other hand, were glued to the hand wrapped around mine.

“Angel, my eyes are up here.”

“Yeah, but your dick is down there.” She looked up at me through a hooded gaze. “Have I told you lately how perfect your dick is?”

“Not since yesterday.”

She pursed her lips. “Don’t let it go to your head, baseball boy.”

My fingers flexed around the thick head. “Too late.”

Nessa took over from there, inching first one, then two fingers inside my ass while she palmed my cock. Her fingers retreated, only to gather the precum leaking from my tip and drag it back through that tight bundle of nerves.

Fuck, she’s good at this.

I was no stranger to anal play, but having been on both the giving and receiving end hundreds, if not thousands of times, I could safely say that Nessa knew what she was doing. I was already very much looking forward to returning the favor someday soon.

“Enough.” I grunted. “Please, angel. I’m dying here.”

“Well, we can’t have that, can we?” She climbed back onto the bed and pushed my knees back. The dildo bobbed between us. “I’m going to fuck you just like this. With you on your back, legs in the air, looking up at me. Do you want that?”

“Fuck yes.” My fingers looped through the harness, dragging her closer. “I want you, Nessa.”

With a soft growl, she wedged the dildo against the rosette of my ass and began to push. Past the tight ring of muscle, inch by glorious inch, until finally the base of the dildo bottomed out against my taint.

“Holy fucking shit, baby.”

I groaned, squeezing my eyes shut against the sudden onslaught of sensations. The six inches of silicone pressing against my prostrate, her hand wrapped around my cock, her lips peppering my torso. It was almost too much.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

I nodded. “More.”

It was a race to the finish after that. Her hips pistoned against me, driving the dildo in and out of my ass with each punishing thrust. My grip on her hip turned bruising when she surged inside me again, this time hitting that spot that was sure to drive any guy wild.

“I’m not going to last, angel.”

That was an understatement. I could barely breathe.

“Come for me, Jared.” She bent over me, grabbing the back of my neck with one hand while jerking me off with the other. “Come all over me.”

She didn’t have to tell me twice.

I tightened my hand around hers and gave my cock a few final tugs, working it from root to tip until my release rocketed out of me. The first spurt of cum landed between her tits. The next painted her lips. Nessa rode me through wave after wave of my orgasm, all the while letting me paint her body with my cum.

My eyes closed on a groan when she slicked a finger down her nipples and smeared her release into her skin. She wore me well. She wore me out, too. All the stress from today seemed to melt away just like that. All thoughts of my dad or the team or the World Championship Series, long forgotten.

Nothing else mattered except here and this and us.

Her teeth nipped at the curve where my neck met my shoulder. “Still with me, baseball boy?” She kissed the underside of my jaw.

I turned my head, needing to feel her lips on mine. “Absofuckinglutely,” I whispered into her mouth.

That night, we both slept like the dead. And we didn’t wake up until the alarm went off at nine the next morning.