Page 91 of The Third Baseman

This was better than checking my cell every twenty seconds. Much better.

Five yards out, and I stopped. Not because I didn’t want to invade her personal space, but because when I said she was dripping wet, I meant it. Every item of clothing was soaked through, including the white Lions t-shirt she had on.

The one which clung to her body, accentuating the curve of her perfect tits that I knew fit just as perfectly in my palm, and the very clear outline of her nipples. It wasn’t just me that noticed either; my dick was paying very close attention.

And I now wanted to kill every single guy who’d seen her like this, including…

“Not that I’m not overcome with happiness to see you dripping on my doorstep, but how did you get up here?” I leaned against the wall as casually as I could.

She looked at her feet. “I showed your doorman my Lions pass.”

Yeah, and I bet he got a good fucking look.

“Inventive,” I gritted out, trying to keep the jealousy from my tone. “Marn, what are you doing here?”

“I wanted to talk.”

“Where’s Coffee Douche?”

She pursed her lips, the annoyance I knew so well flashing across her face. “You left me with a lot of questions to answer, you know.”

I smirked, I could imagine. I could also imagine Marnie had been less than happy answering them. “I’d say I’m sorry, but you know me too well for that. I think I’ve used up all my sorries today.”

She was quiet for a second and her hands began twisting nervously. “Did you mean it?”

“Yes, Marn,” my bag fell to the floor; two large quick strides and I’d eaten up the space between us. My hands cupped her face and I met her stare, “Of course I did. I meant every word.”

“I’m sorry about the game,” she whispered.

From the way she was looking at me, she was just talking about the rain-out. “You watched?”

“Yeah, I was up in the box.” She hesitated, catching her bottom lip in her teeth. “It’s where I’ve been watching this week.”

“I’ve been playing like shit.” I searched her face, her green eyes gazing up at me. “I thought you’d skipped them all because you were mad.”

“I am mad!”

I dropped my hands and picked my bag up with a sigh. “Marn, what are you doing here?”

“I told you, I wanted to see you and I want to talk.”

“Look, I know you’re pissed at me, but I said I’d give you space and I meant it.” I dug into my pocket for my front door key and stepped around her, hoping to avoid inhaling any more of her scent; that freshness of apples and a freshly mown field. It was making me lightheaded. “Even if it’d be easier to rip a limb off,” I mumbled.

“What?”

“Nothing.” I pushed the door open, holding it for her to walk through. “But if you’ve come here to yell at me, please save yourself the job. I had a shit game, and I’m not in the mood to hear it. You can do it tomorrow instead.”

She stopped on the threshold. “I haven’t come to yell. I came to talk.”

I was suddenly overcome with exhaustion and finding it very hard to look at her when she was standing there, arms crossed over her chest which pushed her tits up so all I could think about was sliding my dick between them. I stormed over to the couch, picked up one of the blankets Emerson had left me, and tossed it at her.

“Put it on. I can’t talk to you when you’re all… like that.” I jerked my head at her, hoping she’d get my meaning without me having to say it.

She didn’t and her eyes flashed, switching to angry Marnie once more. “Are you making fun of me again?”

“No.”

“Then what is that supposed to mean? What is… ‘like that’?” she jolted her chin as I had.

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