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“I have to get ready.” It’s game day and for the first time in my life I wish I didn’t have to play today. I’d love to crawl back into bed next to her and make love to her all day long, breaking only for sustenance, which would mean she’s walking around my place naked. Sounds like a good day to me.

“Thank you,” she says sweetly, causing me some confusion.

“Why are you thanking me?”

“Because you didn’t slam the door in my face when you had every right to, and for what you did for my grandfather. He was so happy yesterday.” Her eyes mist up and she tries to hide her face, but I stop her. I don’t want her to cry.

“I like you, Daisy. A lot, actually, and when you wouldn’t return my phone calls or text messages I had to do something to get your attention. It’s a win-win all the way around. We’re together and your grandfather is happy. I’ll do it for every game if you want.”

She nods. “He’d like that.”

“Consider it done,” I say, moving closer to kiss her. Once our lips meet there’s no turning back. Her hands are everywhere - in my hair, down my back gripping my ass and finally to my erect cock. The moment she starts stroking, I’m a goner. Daisy knows I’m not leaving this bed until we’ve both found our release. She already knows how to press my buttons and make me submit to her.

“Aren’t you sore?” I ask as she continues to drive me toward the edge.

“Yes,” she says breathlessly. As much as it pains me, I move out of her grip and lay beside her.

“Don’t think you have to do this. If you’re sore, you should rest.”

She turns on her side to face me. “What do you do when you’re sore after a game? Do you stop and rest? Do you wait for the ache to go away or do you continue to play?”

“Play,” I say, winking my eye.

“Let’s play, Ethan. Come hit a homerun,” she whispers against my lips.

Her baseball analogy has me scrambling to my bedside table and yanking the drawer open, dropping it to the ground. The contents start to spill out, but not before I can grab the string of condoms. Yanking one off and ripping it open, I quickly sheath myself. Daisy’s focus is on me, her eyes are full of lust and her bottom lip is pulled between her teeth. My dick jumps with excitement, knowing that it’s about to be buried deep between her tight walls.

When Daisy sees me moving toward her, she’s kicking off the sheet that was barely covering her and spreading her legs for me. I love how it’s automatic, how she knows what she wants. She’s not shy or hesitant about having sex again and I really like that, especially considering this was her first time.

I tease her briefly before dipping my head in and pulling back out, letting my thumb tickle her clit. We’re short on time or I’d be working her body over, bringing her to the brink before pounding into her.

“This is what we call a quick-hitter.” I thrust quickly, pushing our rhythm faster than I want to.

“You’re already scoring,” she says, biting into my shoulder.

I love that she’s a sports fan, but I never knew that it would turn me on so much. My fairly new bed is creaking with each thrust. Daisy is moaning as her fingers dig into my back. Each grunt I give brings me closer to the edge, and when her eyes look into mine and her back arches, I start praying that she’s close because I’m about to fucking explode.

Adding slightly more pressure to her clit, she starts to buckle and move her hips faster. The squeezing of her walls around my throbbing dick is all that I need to let go.

“You’re late,” Kidd says as I stagger into the clubhouse. The other guys are talking amongst themselves and aren’t paying attention to me. To say I’m hung-over would be an understatement even though I didn’t drink an ounce of booze yesterday. I’m tired, my muscles ache in both good and bad ways, and the euphoric high I’m feeling right now makes it seem like I’m floating.

I quickly glance at the clock and see I have about thirty minutes before we’re supposed to take the field and by all accounts, I really am late. I’m usually one of the first to arrive, often getting in some cardio before it’s time to change, or teasing the reporters in here because it’s fun and easy to get the women to swoon with a simple wink.

“Had stuff to get done today,” I say, slipping my watch off my wrist and placing it in my locker followed by my phone.

“Oh yeah, what’s her name?”

I shake my head and reach for my uniform, which is nicely folded and waiting for me. It’s too bad that the in-house laundry can’t wash the rest of my clothes because I hate doing laundry.

“Was she a hooker?”

I choke and start coughing. Kidd pats my back while laughing his ass off. Fucking jerk.

“I think I’m capable of picking up women of the non-charging kind.”

“Stripper?”

I shake my head no as I take off my shirt and hang it up. I instantly regret getting undressed in front of him.

“Son of a bitch, you fucked a vampire.” He’s seen the bite marks Daisy left on my shoulder and chest. I didn’t mind them then and I don’t know. I honestly don’t give a shit what Kidd or anyone else has to say about them either. Last night… I don’t want to be cheesy and say it was magical, but damn if she wasn’t made for me. We fit together perfectly, even if the elephant in the room sat there mocking me while I got my rocks off. We need to clear the air about the whole blogger bullshit before it escalates. Sarah says she should be allowed to read it because they’re fun and can give you a different perspective of what’s going on. We’re famous and need to accept that people want to know everything about us. I hate to think Sarah is right, but I know she is.

Everyone in the clubhouse stops talking. I don’t need to turn around to know that everyone is staring at me. I can feel their eyes boring into my back.

“You’re an ass.”

“Yes, but you knew that. Spill. Let’s be girls and gossip.”

“No thanks,” I say as I focus on getting dressed. Kidd finally drops the inquisition. I know it’s not over and he’ll be up my ass again, but for right now he’s quiet.

As soon as my cleats hit the concrete walkway out to the dugout, my heart starts racing. I’m anxious to see her and even though I see her almost every day, everything is different. Sex changes everything. The only time it doesn’t is when it’s a hook-up and you never intend to see that person again. I intend to see Daisy every fucking day until she tells me to stop.

The moment I climb the steps I’m looking left. She’s there with her grandfather. I’m not close enough to see his expression, but that’s about to change. I can’t help the movement of my feet as I walk over to her. Kids come rushing down for autographs and I oblige each and every request, looking at her briefly in between each signing.

When the usher stands by the gate blocking people from being near her, even though that’s not really what he’s doing, I know it’s my opportunity to talk to her.

She stands when she sees me walking toward her. I wave to the usher, who nods and moves up a few steps so she can come over to the gate.

“I really want to kiss you right now,” I say, clasping my hands together in front of me. My cup prevents anyone from seeing the semi forming in my pants.

“I think the staff would frown on such behavior.”