Page 7 of Stalked By the Umpire

“Motherfucker,” I grunt out as I finally snap and drive my hips back and forth, fucking into her ferociously as my mind churns with thoughts of possession.

Mine, mine, mine!

Kaitlyn is mine.

"I’m not going to last long, baby. I need you to come for me. Can you do that, you pretty little thing?”

I reach down and flick my thumb over her clit, and Kaitlyn goes off beautifully.

Her pussy flutters around me as she screams and clutches onto me, and then I lose it.

And when I come, it’s like hitting a home run in Hawkins Stadium—exhilarating, triumphant, and damn satisfying. I ride her through our orgasms, pumping every last bit of cum from my balls into her until it’s dripping down onto the bed.

But then I hear a sound like strikes the fear of God into me.

It’s Nate, and he’s mad as hell.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

CHAPTER

SIX

Kaitlyn

The door slams open. Heat floods my cheeks, and I'm scrambling for the sheet, trying to shield my nakedness from Nate's blazing green eyes. Jake's heavy breath hitches against my neck, and I can feel his heart hammering, a wild rhythm that matches my own.

"Jesus, Kaitlyn!" Nate's voice is a whip crack in the opulent bedroom of the Hawkins estate. The scent of roses does nothing to mask the thick aroma of sex hanging in the air.

"Fuck, Nate, I..." My words trip over themselves, lost in the chaos.

He doesn't hear me. His gaze, sharp as the pitches he's famous for, skewers Jake. "Are you planning on marrying my sister, or are you just fucking around?"

Jake stiffens above me, and it's not just his body that freezes. It's his soul, his everything. I search his piercing blue eyes for something, anything, that speaks of our tangled sheets and whispered promises.

But he's silent. A statue. And those eyes that I've drowned in a thousand times over are suddenly shallow pools I can't read.

I shove at Jake's chest, a desperate need to escape clawing its way up my throat. I stumble out of bed, grabbing whatever clothing I can find. My heart pounds, a frantic drumbeat drowning out the shouting match brewing behind me.

I run, barefoot, down the grand staircase, each step echoing like a gavel sentencing me for sins of the flesh and heart. I'm outside now, the manicured lawns a blur under the moonlight, my tears mixing with the night's dew.

Guilt claws at me with sharp talons. Guilt for what I've done to Nate, for the sacred bond I've tarnished.

And Jake... oh God, Jake. Was I just a conquest? A fling for the umpire who calls fair and foul with unerring precision but couldn't give me a straight answer when it mattered most?

"Shit," I whisper into the darkness, the word stark against the silence of the estate. Nate's estate. Where I've always been the little sister, the princess in the tower. And now, I'm just Kaitlyn, the girl who might have mistaken lust for love.

I collapse into a heap and sob, tears streaming down my face.

What have I done?

I slam the door of my car with a force that mirrors the chaos in my chest. My hands shake as I grip the steering wheel, knuckles white, breaths coming in short, sharp gasps that match the erratic thumping of my heart.

I shut my eyes tight and try to summon the cold detachment I desperately need. It’s been three days, and I still can’t shake him.

Memories flash like lightning—Jake's touch, his skin against mine, the way he made me feel alive and wanted. But that’s all they are now, memories tainted by the sting of betrayal and doubt.

I don’t know how long I drive. I don’t even know where I’m going. And this is what I’ve done ever since that night I gave Jake my virginity.

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