Page 97 of The Third Baseman

That boy I loved was nowallman; possessive, controlling and unapologetic.

That toned body now rippled with muscle, thick from years of training. Harder, meaner, more refined, and capable of moves I’d never imagined in my wildest dreams.

My aching thighs were proof of that.

Whoever said confidence was sexy had never met Jupiter Reeves. His confidence wasn’t sexy; his confidence oozed from him. It was in the air around him, and it possessed you like a demon the second you breathed it in.

His confidence was why no one ever said no.

How could they?

Goddamn, I hated it when Jupiter was right.

After weeks and weeks of resisting him, I couldn’t ignore it. He owned me, body and soul.

“I know you’re watching me…” came his sleep-roughened voice as one dazzlingly blue eye opened. Mine widened in surprise, accompanied by a giggle.

The arm covered in shooting stars and the date of our first kiss snaked around me and pulled me close so he could plant a big, wet kiss on my lips.

“That noise, Marn.”

“My laugh?”

“Yeah, I could listen to it on repeat and I’d never get enough.” He smiled back, but it wasn’t playful; it was kind of bashful, vulnerable. “Did you sleep well?

“All three hours of it, yes.” I yawned, stretching my arms above my head.

He grinned and threw back the covers. “Wait here. Promise you won’t move?”

I wasn’t sure I had the energy or the skeletal composition to move even if I wanted to, seeing as my bones hadn’t totally regained their full strength after turning to Jell-O.

“I promise.” I yawned again, taking full advantage of the sight before me.

He leapt out of bed, giving me a perfect view of his ass; his tight, very smooth ass. He must do a thousand squats a day to maintain an ass that rivaled a peach for peachiness.

How was I ever thinking I missed his old body?

I was just beginning to doze off while dreaming of it when he returned, two coffees in hand. Or one coffee and one cup of green froth.

“What’s that?”

“Matcha,” he laughed as I pulled a face then waited until I scooched up the mattress so he could slide back in next to me.

I propped myself against a pillow then took my coffee from him. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He watched as I blew away the steam on mine. “I’ve been waiting to do that forever.”

“What?”

“Bring you coffee in bed again,” he grinned.

My heart softly thudded and I looked at him curiously. This wasn’t the Jupiter who’d commanded me with his dick last night, who’d taken control of my body and mind until they bent at his whim.

This was the Jupiter who’d made me hot chocolate to watch the night sky when I was sixteen years old, and set a thousand flickering lights out so we could make love on blankets under the stars; the one who’d pulled me against the tree and begged forgiveness, finally giving me the words I didn’t realize I’d desperately been waiting to hear.

I’m sorry.

No arrogance; just him.

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