Page 23 of West Bound

“Viv, we need to get set up.” He plops down a small stool that I didn’t notice him holding, right next to me.

I scrunch my brows and look at him with confusion written all over my face. He nods his head at Vivian and I look to see her stepping up onto it, bringing her gorgeous face and tight body several inches closer to me.

“Well goddamn. If that isn’t the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.” Armand shakes his head slowly and bites his lip.

This fucker is begging to eat a knuckle sandwich tonight.

“Time to go. See you later,” I growl and turn my body just enough to block her from their view.

They hustle off the field and I give one hundred percent of my attention to Vivian. I can smell her and just like earlier during our faceoff, her scent makes my cock jerk.

She runs her fingers through her hair, fixing a few stray strands, then picks up the mic. Her cameraman positions himself in front of us and they both press a finger against their ear, listening to what is being said through the earpiece.

I lean into her and lower my voice. “Heads up, Armand is an asshole and I know for a fact he isn’t packing what I am. Just thought I’d save you from a wasted night.”

She drops her hand to her side and throws me that glare from earlier. “I’m really not in the mood to continue this fight with you, so let’s pause this until tomorrow. As for Armand, or any other guy for that matter, I fuck who I want to fuck and neither your concern nor advice is needed. Okay?”

I clench my fists and force myself to count backwards from ten to stop from grabbing her and planting my lips against her pillowy ones. This woman makes me fucking angry and turned on with her smart mouth. It makes me want to spank her ass red, then fuck her until she’s moaning my name.

“I meant to ask you earlier,” I whisper. “Are you a screamer?”

Her mouth drops open, eyes wide, and I realize that was a bad move because now I just want to put my hand on her head and push her to her knees to worship me from below.

“In four, three, two…” I blink out of my daze and watch Vivian transform from angry little tart, to professional mode in a snap.

“Thanks, Richard. It was a great night at the ballpark, and an even better debut for our newest Wrangler, Phoenix West.”

She stares straight into the camera and rattles off a few highlights of the game including my seven inning shutout.

“And now, the man of the evening. Phenomenal pitching tonight, Phoenix. How is your arm feeling after throwing an alarmingly low ninety-eight pitches?” Her fake smile is one perfected over years of being “on” when the camera is.

It isn’t the same flirty smile she was giving Armand just minutes ago, nor the joking ones she exchanged with the players in the dugout.

“I feel great. No pain at all, and the crowd tonight really sparked a fire in me.”

“Speaking of the crowd, you were very well received by the city of Houston. Has it been the same with your new teammates?” She points the microphone in my direction again.

“They’ve been really welcoming. The atmosphere of this club is something I haven’t experienced before. These guys are a full on support system and work seamlessly with one another. It’s only been a day and already I’ve been brought in like a family member and not a guy who’s sent more than my share of strikes their way.”

She continues to smile and blink and listen to the words I’m saying, looking completely unaffected by our close proximity. I want so badly to see her slip from this controlled demeanor, so I do the one thing that I think will do just that.

Out of view from the camera, I brush the back of my hand against her hip and feel her body tense. Her eyes flare and her smile quivers but to anyone watching on the other side of the lens, it’s imperceivable.

I continue to talk about the game and answer her questions. When she speaks, I take to flicking my fingers against her thigh. I lick my lips then sink my teeth into them. I lean in closer when I speak into the microphone, and each time I do something I watch as she falters just slightly. Never anything anyone but me would notice, but I get the greatest satisfaction from watching her flub and knowing it’s because of me.

When she thanks me for my time and ends the interview, the smile she kept in place falls and so do the niceties.

“You asshole. Don’t fucking touch me, again. You’re lucky I’m a goddamn professional or else I’d have stuck my Louboutin so far up your ass, you’d need search and rescue to dig it out.”

I let the lopsided grin I’ve been holding back take over my face and it only spurs the heat in her eyes. “What’s the matter, sweetheart? Can’t handle a little challenge? I saw the way those perky little nipples of yours practically reached out for me every time I touched you.”

“Fuck you, Phoenix,” was all she said after I witnessed, yet again, the way her body reacted to me.

She hopped down from the stool and stomped off, not giving me a backwards glance. I smiled and gave myself a pat on the back for ruffling her feathers that are no doubt usually tucked tightly into place.

“Dude, she’s going to fucking ruin you.” I turn and see the cameraman rolling up his cables. “She’s a maneater, that one, and if you come away from this unscathed, you should thank your lucky stars. She’s destroyed a few guys for less than what just happened between you two.”

“I’m not worried about her. I can handle Red.”

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