Page 77 of Off Limits: The Firsts

“Every time I set my helmet in that net shelf, it’ll be my face between your thighs I think about.” Rub, stroke, slide. Her moan fills my ears. The heat of it sears my skin. “Every time I stand at the plate to take a swing, it’ll be you I picture. Naked. Swinging the stick like you own it and hitting that line drive back at me.”

“East.” A sigh of pleasure. My thumb to her clit. Her coming all over my hand.

“And then your little happy dance as you jogged around the bases.” Tits bouncing, hair down her back, laugh filling the gray space.

I angle my body, open her wider, and line the head of my dick up right where I want it.

“No, it will never be the same.”

I push into her. Become consumed by her.

Her feel.

Her touch.

Her sounds.

And I’m well aware that when I speak the last words, when her hands tense on my back and her mouth finds the curve of my neck, I’m not just speaking about my field downstairs.

I’m talking about me.

“Looking great, Easton. I don’t see anything in the X-ray or otherwise that would impede your recovery any further.”

If I could kiss my doctor, right now, I would.

“Whew.” I blow out a sigh of relief. “That’s good to hear, because it’s getting stronger every day.”

“Still stiff?”

“Less and less each day.”

“I don’t feel the click anymore when I move it. I don’t feel any resistance either. Your surgeon must have done a wonderful job, if I do say so myself.” He winks at me and chuckles.

“No complaints here.”

“I’ll file my report with Cory. Let him know I see no reason why you shouldn’t be able to move to the active roster by the end of the month.”

“Music to my ears.”

“It’s up to your PT though. He has the final say, since he’s the one working with you, day-in and day-out. Does the club still have you working with Doc?”

I smile automatically. “I’m working with Scout Dalton.” Images flash through my mind of her earlier. At least I know I was right about the kitchen counter theory.

“I hear she really knows her stuff.”

“Seems to.” I meet his eyes. Hope he doesn’t see that I’m talking about a helluva lot more than just her job.

“Haven’t heard much from Doc though, lately. Rumor is he’s planning on retiring.”

“I’ve heard the same,” I murmur as I stand and pull my shirt back over my head. I think of Scout yesterday, and the tears she tried to hide when she hung up the phone with him. She won’t talk about it, and I won’t push her. That’s her dad. It’s her frustration over wanting to be with him and him being a stubborn cuss and telling her to finish the job first.

To get me back on the field first.

Fathers and their unexplained actions.

I shake Dr. Kimble’s hand and say good-bye.

Let’s hope he’s right. That my arm should be good to go. While the X-rays may be clean, sometimes it’s the things you can’t see that are waiting to bring you down when you least expect it.