“Okay, well . . .” She pauses to think about it. “Do you know what I really love? The fresh smell of rain on a ball field.” A girl after my own heart. “There’s something about it that brings back such good memories. Do you know the smell I’m talking about?”
I nod. “Yeah, and I would have to agree with you.” I motion at my body. “Go ahead, touch away.”
With a sly smile, she drags her finger down my face to my neck. She dances her fingertips along the soft skin and then to the hollow of my shoulder, but the entire time her eyes stay connected with mine, never once looking away. It’s not only hot and tempting; it’s forming a deeper connection between the two of us.
“My turn,” she whispers, her leg moving closer to mine. “What’s your favorite thing to do on the Internet?”
“Isn’t it obvious? Porn.”
She rolls her eyes. “I knew you were going to say that. Answer seriously.”
“Uhh . . . I did.” I start to touch her but she stops me.
“Seriously? I thought you were going to say baseball clips or something.”
“Milly, I’m a twenty-two-year-old male who hasn’t had a girlfriend since high school. Porn is absolutely my favorite thing to do on the Internet.”
“You haven’t had a girlfriend since high school?”
I shake my head and move my hand over her shoulder and down her ribcage where I rest my palm against her side, my thumb falling below her breasts, where I stroke back and forth, never touching her breast.
“When I got to college, I knew what my job entailed: earn a degree, play professionally. My dad worked his ass off to get me to where I am today, and I wasn’t going to do anything to screw that up.” I glide my fingers over her stomach and ever-so-lightly graze them up the center of her chest to her breastbone. The swell of her breasts tickles my fingers as her breathing picks up. I continue to mimic the circular motion moving down her shoulder, across her ribcage, up her stomach, over her cleavage and to her breastbone. With each pass, her eyes become heavier and heavier and her breathing becomes more labored.
“Have you been celibate this whole time?”
“Cute, Mills.” I glide my finger over one swell to the other. “I’ve fooled around, but nothing serious. Nothing like what I feel for you.” I draw a lazy circle over the top of her right breast. “My turn to ask a question. Have you crushed on any other Brentwood baseball players beside me?”
“Oh yeah,” she answers without skipping a beat.
“Ouch. And here I thought I was special.”
“You are.” She brings her finger down my pec and circles my nipple with her thumb.
Fuck.
Me.
Just like that, my cock strains against my sweats and boxer briefs, an ache starting at the base of my spine. It’s been a long time since I’ve had any sort of release with a girl. I’m not sure how long I’ll last if we keep up this game.
Trying to take my mind off my hardening cock, I ask, “Who was it? Whose ass do I need to kick for trying to steal the attention away from me?”
“I mean, there are quite a few good-looking guys on your team, but crush, crush. There’s only been two.”
“I better be one of them.”
Her thumb passes over my nipple and I hold back the hiss that wants to escape. “You know one is you, but the other was my freshman year, well, our freshman year. He was a junior, drafted after the end of the season.”
I think back to who was a junior when I was a freshman. There’s only one guy who would have turned Milly’s head. “Brett Dover.”
A small smile passes over her lips. “He was a vision in baseball pants, and he had an accompanying smile that struck me every time I saw it. And his stats alone were a huge turn-on. Still holds the record for most home runs and highest paid rookie contract and signing bonus. Not to mention when he was here at Brentwood, he spent every Thursday at the homeless shelter making lunches. Every Thursday. He even scheduled his classes around it. And those eyes . . .”
I stare at her, blinking a few times when she stops. “Please”—I motion with my hand—“go on. Don’t stop on my account. I want to hear so much more about Brett Dover.”
She chuckles and runs her finger down my chest to my abs. “Are you jealous?”
Her finger toys with my stomach and even though I am jealous, with every pass of her finger, I grow stiffer.
“What do you think?” I ask, my hand sliding down her arm to her backside. I pull her in a little closer and splay my hand across her ass, my pinky finger skimming her bare skin.
She sucks in a short breath, her hand slipping a little farther as her thigh brushes against my erection. Her eyes widen in surprise right before a wicked smile crosses her face.
Fuck. That look is about to get me into some trouble.
“I think you’re excited to play this game.”
A hearty laugh comes out of me. “Yeah, a little too excited.”
“It’s not a bad thing.” Her fingers dance down to my waistline and play with the band of my briefs. She slips the tips of her fingers inside, teasing the ever-loving fuck out of me.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“Cashing in on my touching reward.”
“I think you need to answer another question to gain access to that.”
Her fingers scrape along the sensitive skin right above my pubic line, and it takes every muscle in my body to contain my pelvis from thrusting forward. This is the secret part; I’m totally digging this new, previously hidden facet of Milly. From her shy demeanor, you’d never anticipate this side of her, this secret sexy side that I hope like fuck I get to see more of. It’s hot. She’s hot.
“I’ll have to wait, because it’s my turn to ask a question.”
Christ.
I swallow hard.
“Okay, ask away and make it quick.”
She chuckles and rubs her fingers along my skin, so fucking close to the head of my cock. Just a few millimeters . . . and she’ll be right there. Just a brush, a minor touch, anything to ease the buildup in the base of my spine and the aching in my balls. It’s been so long that I might explode the minute her hand touches me.
“Favorite body part on a woman.”
“Tits,” I answer, letting my hand show her exactly what I mean. Over her shirt, I draw a circle around her ample tit, outlining how voluptuous she is. She has what I like to call sneaky tits—probably because she wears sports bras a lot of the time—but they don’t look that big. They look like they’re a decent size, until she lets them free of their spandex confines and then holy fuck, she’s stacked. So gorgeous—and I’m dying to pull them into my mouth—but this is her game and if she’s going to tease me, then I’m going to tease her.
“There’s something about being able to turn a woman on with a small stroke over her nipple.” My thumb passes a featherlight touch over her already hardened nipple. She sucks in a breath and her body shifts, her fingers moving as well, so deathly close that my entire body hums with need. “I love that they come in all shapes and sizes and that each and every one is beautiful in its own right. And, they seem to define the woman they’re attached to.”