Page 43 of Wild Pitch

“Oh my God, I love you,” she whimpers as her inner walls begin to tighten around me. I reach between her legs, batting her hand away and taking over, rubbing tight circles on her clit while she arches her back in pleasure. Her legs become more and more unsteady with every one of my thrusts, so I wrap my free hand around her waist, supporting her weight.

“I love you, sweet thing. Let go and come for me so I can fill you up,” I say, just as her pussy grips me tightly. She cries out and her legs buckle, but I keep going, refusing to let her fall as she climaxes so hard that the pressure almost forces my cock right out. I fight against it,waiting until her muscles have stopped contracting before I finally let myself come, shooting my load inside her with a loud growl. It goes on forever, and I revel in the feeling of filling the woman I love with this part of me, that’ll one day hopefully create another life. The thought triggers an aftershock so intense that I come again, almost dropping us both to the floor where we stand.

Fuck.

I pull out, watching as a mixture of our pleasure falls between our feet before lifting Monroe into my arms and carrying her to the bathroom. As dead as I feel, and as much as I’d love to slide right into bed with her, we made a mess and I can’t let her go to sleep without cleaning her first.

I walk into the shower, carefully sitting her on the bench and turning on the water, allowing it to warm completely. When it’s at a comfortable temperature, I pull down the detachable head, using it to wash her body and hair as she leans back against the wall with a sleepy smile on her face. The permanent marker stays put, but it’ll be a good reminder of who she is when she gets dressed tomorrow. When the words eventually fade, I’ll continue to repeat them to her every day until she’s sees what I see when she looks in the mirror.

When I’m done with her, I quickly wash myself before drying us both and carrying her to the bed. She’s combative the entire way, complaining about how extra I’m being, but I don’t give a fuck. I’m prepared to take care of her until my last breath—and that begins right here, right now.

TWENTY-NINE

RIGGS

“You feeling okay, baby?”I ask, drawing gentle circles with my fingertips along the soft skin of Monroe’s back. We’ve been awake for almost an hour this morning, but neither of us has even made any attempt to move. Last night was intense in so many ways, and I want to make sure she isn’t feeling any leftover emotions from everything she went through. I’m sure it isn’t easy for her to relive all the vile things her father said to her, but my instinct to mend her heart when she’s hurting won’t allow me to let them plague her mind.

She breathes a heavy sigh. “Yeah. I think I need to completely cut ties with my parents. Even my mom. I know she’s the one who told him where I was. She does anything he tells her to, and I can’t trust that my secrets are safe with her anymore.”

“If I had known about them, I would’ve never asked you to do all of this for me. It was only a matter of time before photos of us were taken and plastered all over theinternet. I wish I could’ve protected you from that,” I say, tightening my arm around her body.

“I should’ve told you about my life in California a long time ago, but I hate going back to that place, even if it’s only in my mind.” She pauses, thinking before she speaks again.

“Growing up, I wasn’t shown a lot of genuine love. My parents provided the best of everything for me, and made sure I never wanted for anything, but when it came to being nurtured? I’m not sure they were ever really taught how.

“As a kid, it wasn’t so bad because I had nannies that raised me to know how unique and special I was. But as I got older, and didn’t need them any longer, it was up to my parents to give me the emotional support every teenager needs while they’re trying to figure out who they are. They didn’t even give me a chance to do that. They just told me what was expected of me, and I wasn’t allowed to ask questions.”

I remain quiet, allowing her to continue her story. I’m thankful she’s sharing all of this, and I want her to know that I’ll always be here to listen when she needs me.

“When I was seventeen, they told me I would be marrying a classmate named Conrad Astor. I was to date him throughout college, then we’d have a big, extravagant wedding after graduation. They never asked me if it was something I wanted, or if I even liked him, but I certainly wasn’t given a choice. It was a business move that would make both of our families richer and more powerful in their circle, so we were expected to go along with the plan. They treated me like a little doll, creating the perfect future wife for him. On my eighteenth birthday, they paid for meto have a breast augmentation because they thought it would make me more attractive to him. I didn’t complain because I was young and just wanted to have what society called aperfect body, but looking back, how fucked up is it that they encouraged me to alter myself for a man? Every time I’d try to change my appearance, whether it was a new haircut or a new style of clothing, they’d tell me to ask Conrad first. We weren’t even living together yet, and it was like they were already passing ownership of me over to him.

“I tried to do what they wanted. I dated him, but I knew pretty early on that if I ended up marrying him, my life would be miserable. I wanted to do my part for my family, so I did everything I was told for years, even though I felt in my heart that I was meant for more. Some nights I would stay awake, staring at the ceiling while thinking of ways to make myself disappear. Some of those thoughts were pretty dark, but in the end, I just decided to pack up everything I could…and I left. I was thankful that my parents had allowed me to go to college, even though my father insisted I wouldn’t need a degree, because it gave me the qualifications to get the job at Praya. I waited until everyone was asleep one night, got in my car, and drove across the country with about five thousand dollars to my name. I didn’t know if any of it would work out, but the alternative was something I wasn’t willing to accept for myself. I deserved better.”

I lean down, pressing my lips into her hair, doing my best to hold back the tears that are gathering in my eyes for this poor girl. She was so brave, leaving everything that she had ever known because she knew she was worth more. I’ll never be able to tell her how grateful I am thatshe found her strength, because without it, I never would’ve met her.

She goes on. “As soon as I was out of the state of California, I felt like I could breathe again. Even though the future was uncertain, I knew I had done the right thing. I was so excited to erase every memory of the girl I never wanted to be, that I found a salon along the way and dyed my blonde hair brown. The week after our night in Boston, I was feeling so empowered, that I googled the nearest tattoo shop and had my nipples pierced.” She chuckles under her breath. “It was like a giantfuck youto my parents for expecting me to conform to what they said I should be. It felt so good, that I decided to get my first tattoo immediately after.”

I reach under her knee, dragging her thigh across my lap and ghosting my fingers over the art that covers her smooth skin. I’ve had time to study it, and I wondered what the meaning behind the piece was, but now that she’s telling me her story, it all makes sense. The face of the woman is hers, and the puppet strings attached to her head and arms represent the hold her parents had on her. There’s a blindfold over her eyes as well, no doubt a symbol of her upbringing, being shielded from the great big world that awaited her if she could just find the strength to cut herself free.

Monroe Decker is the most awe-inspiring woman I’ve ever met in my entire life. From the outside, it probably looked like she had it all, but she knew better. She knew that she was too special to be caged up, so she left it all behind to give herself what she deserved.

I use my fingers to tip her chin, dipping down to take her lips in a soft kiss. I breathe in her scent, making apromise to myself that I’ll never let her down. I’ll love her and support her in anything she wants to do, just like her parents should’ve done from the start. Someday, we’ll build a family of our own, and I vow to make sure our children know that whatever choices they make for themselves, their parents will always be there to catch them if they fall.

I was crazy for ever thinking that this wasn’t exactly what life is all about. I spent so many weekends having meaningless sex with women I never intended to be with, but I know now that I was just buying time while I waited for Monroe to walk into that bar and change me forever. I’m not that guy anymore, and I couldn’t be more thankful that my eyes are finally open wide. This woman has become the most important piece of me, and I’ll never be able to thank her enough for allowing me to care for her the way I do. She’s it for me.

“I love you, Riggs,” she says quietly, nuzzling back into my chest as I hold her tightly. “I know with everything that went down last night, I should probably feel immense loss, but because of you, I don’t. If anything, I feel like I finally have a family that loves me unconditionally.”

“You do, Mayhem,” I reply. “You do.”

THIRTY

MONROE

“Oh, fuck off!”I yell at the television, clutching the remote tightly in an effort to channel my anger. The Fury are playing tonight in Atlanta, and Riggs is pitching. The umpire has been calling balls all night, even though he’s hitting the strike zone almost every time. They’re losing by six runs late in the fifth inning, so unless some kind of miracle happens, it’s looking pretty bleak.

“Come on, Val,” I say under my breath, sitting back down on the sofa as I shove my thumbnail between my teeth. It’s practically down to the cuticle at this point, but it’s been a rough game. I either bite my nails, or I heave this remote through the screen. This is a financial decision.

Ace gives the signal and Riggs shakes his head, clearly not liking the call. His catcher tries again, earning a nod right before he stands and winds up to fire the pitch. It’s low and inside, but still a strike according to the white square I’m staring at, yet the umpire calls another ball, and the player walks. I can tell by the look on his face that Riggs is getting pissed. Apparently, so can Clyde, becausebefore the next batter makes his way to the box, he’s on his way to the mound. Ace hops up from behind home plate, joining the men as they speak quietly. Riggs shakes his head, his brows pulling inward as if he’s about to argue before he rolls his eyes and heads to the dugout. The camera follows him as he flings his glove into the brick wall before throwing himself down onto the bench. The crowd above him cheers at his misfortune, and I wish I was there so I could nut punch every single one of them.

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