Page 85 of Blind Date with a #FORMERPLAYER
He grips my ponytail, holding my head , his fingers trembling on my scalp. “Fuck, Layla, I’m going to come, baby.”
My hands move to his firm ass and I hold him to me, doing everything I can to make him lose control. Then he does, exploding, a hot stream of salty cum shooting into my mouth. Licking, and swallowing, I keep my mouth sealed over him, sucking him dry. Then, I lick my lips clean and fall back on my heels with a small smile as he stares at me through hooded eyes. “Was that okay? Anything likeyour fantasy?”
He bursts out laughing, his arm falling over his face. “You are fucking perfect, Layla Romano. Absolutely, perfect.”
Epilogue
Levi
Staring down at my hand, I admire my ring, still in shock that we beat the Lions in the World Series last season. Being one of the closing pitchers during the series against my former team brought a mix of emotions. Some of the men have remained good friends, while others I could do without. Besides, they were the ones who traded me, but with this on my hand, I no longer harbor hard feelings.
The ring is yellow and white gold adorned with our Mustang Logo created with diamonds, rubies and sapphires in the center and the words, World Champions circling it. The year is emblazoned on one side with previous wins listed below and our stadium on the other with National written in script over the stadium. Inside is personalized with my name, number, and position.
Now that we’re headed into the next season, it’s time to look forward. It’s time to put a ring on Layla’s finger and I’m nervous as hell. We’ve talked about the future, but actually proposing has me trembling. If I can close out a game in the World Series, I can ask the love of my life to marry me.
Taking a deep breath, I stride into the training room, smiling at the sight of Layla standing at the counter doing paperwork. She’s dressed in black leggings, a thin ivory sweater and sneakers with her hair pulled back in her familiar ponytail. As I step into the room, she lifts her gaze, her eyes sparkling and a wide smile brightening her flawless features giving me goosebumps. “Hi, Levi.”
“Hi, beautiful.” Blushing, she looks away. “I need to steal you for a little while. Are you almost done?”
“I’ll finish up for you, Layla,” Jordan, one of her colleagues offers. I spoke to Bill earlier to share my plans and he said his staff would be happy to help however they could. I'm grateful this is one of those ways.
“You don’t have to do that,” Layla argues as expected.
“I’m waiting for Calabra to show up anyway. It gives me something to do.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
She reaches for her bag and I wave her off. “We can come back for your things.”
“Okay,” she says dragging out the word, her eyes narrowing.
Holding out my hand, she takes it and I entwine our fingers together. Lifting her hand to my mouth, I brush my lips over it and lower it between us feeling her stare.
“Are you all right, Levi?”
“Yeah, why?”
“You seem edgy.”
Forcing a laugh, I claim, “I’m fine. I promise.”
She quirks her brow but doesn’t push. As I take a step down the tunnel leading to the baseball field, her steps falter. “We’re going on the field?”
“Yes, but don’t worry, we have permission.”
Stepping out onto the ballfield with the stadium lights illuminating the diamond, she looks around in awe. “I’ve never been out here when it’s empty like this. It’s beautiful.”
“So are you.”
Giggling, she teases, “Such a charmer.”
“Only for you, Layla.” She grins, letting go of my hand and spinning around in a slow circle, taking it all in. My eyes never waver from her. The way she finds beauty and joy in the small moments is one of the reasons I love her.
“Come on,” I prompt, holding my hand out once again. “I want to show you my view when I’m playing.”
“Okay,” she readily agrees, clasping my hand.
Strolling towards the pitcher’s mound, my hands start to sweat, my heart pounds and tingles crawl up my throat. We step up on the mound together and she releases my hand, smirking. “How’s my form?” she asks, her tone teasing. Then, she proceeds to pretend to pitch.
