Page 36 of Stolen Bases

Xx, Talia

“Fuck,” I groan, my cock hardening to stone.

Images of Talia licking her spoon have me racing to the bathroom for a shower. I don’t even bother waiting for the water to warm up before climbing in.

Standing under the cool spray, I grip my dick.

“Naughty little pixie,” I grunt, grasping my heavy shaft and stroking it from root to tip.

She’s going to pay for turning me into a teenager who can’t stop fucking his own hand in the shower. It takes less than a minute for my balls to tingle and for me to come down the shower drain with visions of Talia on her knees and tears running down her cheeks as I fuck her mouth.

Fuck the spoon. She can lick chocolate off my cock any day.

I finish showering, using the body wash my mom got me addicted to years ago. One whiff has me wishing it was the sweet floral scent, like peach blossoms and sex, that hit me when I walked into the house.

After my shower, I throw on a plain white tee and a pair of athletic shorts, and plop down on the bed. My muscles are sore, and I hate that it’s getting harder to snap back after grueling workouts and practices.

I should have stayed back and gotten another massage with the trainers or gone another round in the ice chamber. I need to be extra cautious of injury and spend extra time on my recovery.

Being a professional athlete is not for the faint of heart. It’s not all about fame and glory. At least, not for me. Baseball is my passion, and I plan on playing the game for as long as I can.

The alarm on the front door beeps. My ears strain to hear signs of who it might be.

Please be Talia.

Footsteps leading to the kitchen fade, pause, and then lead to the other end of the house. At the click of a door latch, I jump from my bed and make my way to the living room/kitchen combo.

When I picked this house, I loved the idea of the open-concept kitchen/living room. The orange light of the sunset fills the space,making it look peaceful and homey—one of the many selling points that got me. That and the hot tub.

Smiling to myself, I head for the fridge to grab a water bottle. On the counter is a paper bag, and the smell of food coming from it has me stopping in my tracks. My mouth waters, and my stomach grumbles.

Curious, I slide the bag closer and lift open the flap to take a peek inside.

“I see you found my dinner.”

“Fuck!” I yelp. My heart beats in my throat at the shock of being caught.

When I turn around, I find Talia with her hands covering her mouth, doing a piss-poor job of hiding her laughter.

“You scared the shit out of me, Tals.”

“Oh my god, I’m—” The gorgeous little pixie of a woman, who has me captivated under her spell, bends over—hands on her knees—and laughs harder.

The sight and sound of her laughing are so infectious that I can’t help but laugh along with her. When she sobers up, her cheeks are flushed and her gray eyes twinkle.

“You done now?”

She nods, biting that juicy lip of hers. “I’m good. Sorry for scaring you and making you scream like a little girl.”

“Shut up. I did not scream like a little girl.” I did. But no way am I admitting that to the woman I like.

“Okay, big guy.” The nickname falls off her tongue with ease, and my dick takes notice with a jerk.

She’s not talking to you, fucker, I scold my cock.

Ignoring the war going on between my brain and the big guy in my shorts, I point to the bag. “What did you bring home?”

Home. The word slipped off my tongue like this—us coming home to each other—is an everyday occurrence. Gottasay… I don’t hate the idea.

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