Page 106 of The Change Up
Continuing my assault, I alternate between licking and sucking while pumping and laving up his taste.
“Wildflower,” he grits out the words, thrusting against my face as I hum around his shaft. His cock hits the back of my throat again, and this time it forces me to come up for air. With a deep inhale, I descend back down only to be stopped. Quirking my eyebrow, I look up at the mess of a man before me.
His thumb skates across my swollen lips. “As much as I love these pretty lips wrapped around my cock, I need to be inside you.”
Standing to my feet, I watch as Cody slips the condom on. He looks up at me with desire across his face and love in his eyes. There’s no doubt in my mind that after all the hell we’ve been through, the two of us are going to make it through whatever life throws at us.
“C’mere, baby.” His voice softens as he reaches his hand out for me to hold while I straddle his lap—in a dugout.
Placing my hands on his shoulder, he lines himself up with my needy entrance. I slowly sink down on his waiting cock. We both moan at the contact as my pussy swallows his erection until I’m fully seated. Our lips find each other, and in that kiss, we pour everything we have into it.
Love. Desire. Lust. Hope. The future.
With his hands gripping my hips, I begin to ride him. Euphoria and white-hot desire spur me on. Rocking my hips slowly, I build the pressure between us knowing that it won’ttake either of us long to get to the finish line. In this position, Cody fills me up and hits that spot inside me that has me ready to come. Tightness coils in my stomach, and I chase the high. My clit knocks against his pelvis bone, and I have to crash my lips to his to keep from screaming out.
Slipping his hands under my dress, his rough, calloused fingers kiss my skin until he reaches my tight pebbled nips. Twisting and tweaking my peaks between his fingers, my back arches, pushing my boobs closer to him. The action causes me to sink even more on his cock as my head flies back.
“Cody,” I grit between my teeth. “It feels so good. Oh my god.”
“I know, baby,” he pants. “Touch yourself. I’m so close.”
Reaching between us, my finger massages my bundle of nerves, and it’s seconds before I’m detonating. I continue riding out my orgasm as I feel Cody pump his release into the condom. Chests heaving, we stay like that until both of us have come down from the euphoric, earth-shattering orgasm.
“I love you, Wildflower.”
“I love you, too, Cody Jacobs. Now let’s go get you a championship.”
Hands cup around my face as my knees bounce up and down. The anticipation and stress of this game has me wound tight.
It’s the top of the ninth inning; Cody is on the mound with a three-to-one lead over Oklahoma Central University. This game has been a battle of strikes as both pitchers have been throwing their best games. Even though we’ve given up a run, Nolan and Cody have been in sync all evening with their pitch calls.
Speaking of Nolan, today has been a remarkable game for him. Not only has he manned behind the plate with excellence, but he’s hit not one, but two home runs. And even though they were home runs and not grand slams, I still stood at the top of the stairs that led out to the field and did my celebratory dance.
The crowd has been insane this whole game. Beer showers have rung out from the stands after each shut-out inning, or home run, coating the fans around them in warm, sticky beer. The feeling has to be getting quite gross considering it’s been in the mid-80s all day with the sun beating down on us. Nothing like caked-on amber liquid coating your already sweaty skin. Hard pass.
The crack of the bat has me snapping my head back to the game before me. I watch with bated breath as the ball sails in the air down the left field side. Exhaling a deep sigh of relief, I watch as the ball lands foul in the stands.
“Shake it off, Jacobs,” Coach Weber yells from where he’s leaning on the dugout fence. Cody’s gaze finds Weber’s, and he gives a quick nod, his face hidden behind his glove. I watch as Cody’s shoulders lift and lower as if he’s physically shaking off the pitch.
“Come on, Cody,” I whisper the words out loud for only myself to hear. But it’s like the words flew through the air and straight into Cody’s ears. His head turns back toward the dugout, and I swear our eyes lock. With a wink, he turns his attention back to home plate where the batter is waiting.
Shaking off the pitch Nolan called, he finally shakes his head yes at a pitch. This could be it. One more strike will give us the last out in the inning, and since we are the home team with the lead, we won’t need to bat again. One more pitch could end the game.
From my position in the dugout, I see a slight tweak of his lips into his favorite smirk, the one I love so much, and I know what he’s going to throw.
With his feet lined up on rubber atop the pitcher’s mound, I watch with my breath caught in my lungs as Cody’s feet stride forward. His arm cocks backward as he releases the ball at the same trajectory he always does; however, the velocity of the pitch is much slower than normal.
The batter doesn’t see it coming. In one big swing, the bat slices through the air as the ball sails after his swing.
A perfect change up.
The umpire’s arm flies out to the side before coming back into position in the signature movement of calling a strike.
A strike.
Strike three, and the batter’s out.
That’s it.
