Page 7 of Fastball Fever
Her lips quirk into an almost smirk."Just waking you up."
Oh, trust me, baby, I'm awake.Your sexy body keeps me charged up all day and all night, if only in my dreams.
Amy hands me a dumbbell.Her fingers brush against mine, and my dick twitches, though she doesn't seem to notice."A light one for your delicate condition, old man."
"Gonna give me one in pink?"
"Would you prefer sparkles?"She lifts her chin, and there's a dare in her eyes.
I grunt and get started.The reps go smoother than I expect, but by the last set I'm ready to call it a day and possibly a career.Still, there's something satisfying about it too—like proving her wrong is more important than anything else.The burn in my muscles distracts me from the gnawing doubt in my head.I set the weight down with a clatter and a pointed look at her, waiting for more smart remarks.
She doesn't take my bait.Instead, she nods and scribbles something on that damn clipboard of hers."So, what do you think, Braddock?Ready to trade me for someone with bigger tits?"
The question knocks the wind out of me.Is my coach hitting on me?That would be sexual harassment.So I must have misheard her.I pull in a sharp breath before answering."I'll give you two more sessions.If I'm not seeing results by then…"
Amy raises an eyebrow, waiting for me to finish my thought.Waiting for me to crack.
"If I'm not seeing results, you're fired—and so am I."
She smiles with satisfaction as if she expected nothing less from me."Good.Make a decision about your wife before then too."
Her eyes flick down to my left hand.
I stopped wearing my ring the day after my ex-wife filed for divorce and announced she was going back to her maiden name."Alicia is my ex-wife.I rarely see her these days, and I'm not in love with her anymore."
"Glad to hear it."
"You don't need to worry about my love life interfering with recovery.I haven't even dated anyone casually for at least a year."
"Good."Amy folds her arms and squints at me."If there's one thing worse than a has-been, it's a has-been with girl problems."She waves toward the door."Now get out of here.Show up tomorrow ready to work even harder."
I flash her a cocky smile, but my heart's not really in it."You mean ready to whine and bitch?"
"Love that enthusiasm," Amy says with a smirk as she turns away, leaving me with nothing but the cold workout room and my own lousy thoughts.
What she doesn't understand is how desperate I am—desperate enough to beg for help before I leap off the side of the Titanic.But she'll figure it out.One thing I've learned is that Amy Keller is whip smart.Two more sessions?Hell, she'll have me figured out by lunch tomorrow.
I leave the training room, feeling like I've been run over by a truck and then kicked by a mule for good measure.It's a good kind of whipped, though.
Outside, the sun beats down so hot that I start to wonder if my car will melt into a puddle on the asphalt, and I squint into the bright Jacksonville morning.Well, late morning.My body might be spent, but my mind is on overdrive.Maybe I should've mentioned to Amy that my ex-wife popped up again last week and rattled my cage with a sexy offer for tequila shots that we would drink off each other's bodies.The offer was tempting, but…
I'd rather fuck Amy.
Oh, no you don't, moron.Coach Keller is the only one who can get you into shape, so don't screw it up.
No sex for Charlie.Damn.
I settle for a slice of celibacy pie and make my way to the locker room, hoping a shower might rinse off at least some of this defeat.The room's empty, except for a couple pairs of beat-up cleats sitting in the corner like they're taunting me.I fumble with my locker and dig out a towel.
Water beats down on my back, almost too hot but not quite enough to scald out the mess in my head.Amy's voice echoes in my mind—has-been, girl troubles, old man.Everything I already know but don't want to hear.I soap up and try to focus on the fact that I survived day one without falling apart.That's gotta count for something.
Hopefully humiliation burns calories.
Just as I'm about to step out of the shower, my mind decides to torture me with images of Amy's hot body.Those luscious tits.Her toned muscles.The way her stiff nipples jutted.I feel too wired to go home, but I need to rest my muscles.When I glance down, I suddenly realize why I'm wired.
My dick is waving like a flag.
Aw, shit.How long will it take for my cock to go flaccid?Yeah, those are words I never imagined I'd think.The face of my sexy coach flashes through my mind, and suddenly, I'm breathing harder.Only one way to cure this little, ah, problem.
