Page 51 of Fastlander Fighter

She was dropping Ruger at the dugout to put on his glove before he ran out to the warm-up area in the outfield. Captain lifted his chin higher into the air, strode past Ryan and the Asshole Squad, and set up the chairs right behind the chain-link fence that separated the spectators from home plate. It would be the perfect spot for Sloane to watch Ruger hit from, and they were early enough that he could pick the perfect angle for them.

The Asshole Squad got quiet as he passed, and he looked over at Ryan and nodded an acknowledgement. I see you, motherfucker.

Before he’d even gotten the second chair set up, the coach for Ruger’s team came over and talked to him through the fence. “Hey man, can you help again today? My other two coaches are MIA.”

“Yeah, man. What do you need?”

“Help in the dugout? And first-base coach? Third-base coach if you want it. I can tell you know what you’re doing.”

Captain was just relieved he wasn’t asking for him to pitch before the boys went to hit off the tee. He didn’t want a bunch of humans staring at him while his animal was all riled up like this.

“Yeah, assistant coach,” one of the nearby moms cheered. She was a pretty blonde smiling like she knew him. Okay, he got it. He was six foot five, and a shifter, and had that presence. He’d always been acutely aware of his effect on females. Before Sloane, he would’ve encouraged it and probably flirted back, but now? When he was tired and injured? He didn’t want anything to do with her or any of the other moms’ attention.

He ignored blondie and hid his limp as he headed for the dugout. Sloane passed him, but caught him with a gentle grasp of his shirt. “You don’t have to.”

“Don’t have to what?” he asked.

“Coach.” She looked up at him with those pretty ocean-blue eyes. She shook her head. “It’s not your job.”

Shhhhit. She was getting insecure over his attitude, thinking he didn’t want to be here.

“I want to,” he murmured. He leaned down and pressed his lips to hers just to taste her, and to try to settle the inner bear.

“Want me to get you food?” she asked. “They have hamburgers.”

“I can get it for us.”

“You’re hurt,” she said shortly, gripping his shirt.

He wanted to deny it, but her face said she wasn’t having any of his bullcrap today.

“I can tell,” she said softly. “And you’re bleeding through your jeans.”

He chewed the corner of his lip and looked at the dugout, then back at her. “I probably need a few hamburgers.”

“Who did it?”

“Ace.”

She stared at him, her facial expression frozen with disapproval. “Fuck Ace.”

He snorted, and the tension in his shoulders lessened. Ace was a hybrid shifter. A combination of dominant Holland lion—and the true king of the Holland Pride—and vampire. Yep. Vampire. He was a monster, but Captain loved that Sloane was saying fuck that monster for hurting him.

“You should see the other guy,” he teased softly.

She lowered her voice, and her eyes held a glint of teasing. “Would a blowjob tonight make it better?”

“Yep,” he said immediately, and then tracked her movement as she giggled and made her way toward the concession stand.

She was great at blowjobs. Yep, her mouth on his dick would absolutely make literally every problem go away.

He stood there like a bump on a log, watching the curve of her ass as she sauntered away. Oooh, that woman knew exactly what she was doing to him.

“She’ll break your heart,” one of Naomi’s friends said. She was a brunette with those model features that she probably hooked a lot of men with.

“You know Sloane?” he asked.

“I know of her.”

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