Page 28 of West Bound

“At least you didn’t catch them in the kitchen. Right Cat?” CeCe adds.

“Oh shit. I forgot about that.” Bishop cracks up laughing as does everyone else. “Cat caught–”

“Bish.” Vaughan growls from across the table with an intimidating look, but it doesn’t deter Bishop.

“She walked into Cam’s and found Vaughan hiding out in the laundry room…in his underwear…and Cam’s silk robe.” Everyone is back to laughing and this time I join in.

“Why am I friends with you guys?” Vaughan groans and stands. “I’m getting another beer. Anyone want another?”

“If I say yes will you serve it to me wearing a German beer maid outfit?” Hayes asks.

“Fuck off.” Vaughan throws us all the finger and pulls Cami up from her seat, intertwining their hands and walking away.

I think I’m gonna like this group. Just like the team, it seems they have adopted me as one of their own.

Vivian…she’s another hurdle all together. But one I’m willing to jump at.

CHAPTER NINE

VIVIAN

“Players” - Coi Leray

All night long my friends roared with laughter at Phoenix’s stories about his life in New York. He told them about a fan in New York who chased him down a city street, carrying a sign that said “Marry Me, Phoenix” and wearing a wedding gown.

Phoenix said he was lucky to get away from her when an NYPD officer saw the commotion and ushered him inside a building, then stood guard at the door threatening to arrest the woman if she trespassed on private property. After several minutes and a dozen threats, the woman finally walked away with her veil between her legs.

If you ask me, I’d say bride-zilla was the lucky one. She probably would’ve wanted to throw herself in front of a speeding train if she ended up married to Phoenix. The arrogant bastard.

I did my best not to scowl the entire night, but my face had a mind of its own. So while everyone else was welcoming Phoenix into our circle, I was plotting various methods of murder and trying to estimate how much he weighed. Could I possibly drag his body–in a tarp, of course–by myself, or should I clue CeCe in on my plan so she can help me?

I decided I would let CeCe help me since she knows people in other countries and if push came to shove, we could flee. Cami would be too nervous and would spill her guts to Vaughan who would tell Bishop and then, boom! Alibi shot and bail denied.

Lucky for me, I spotted the bartender that I hooked up with a few times and remembered it being quite memorable. And by memorable I mean I was walking side to side the next day.

When I approached Nate, he was quick to tell me he had a break in thirty minutes to which I responded, “does that office have a couch?”. Which it did. And might I add that it was a pretty comfortable couch. My knees were spared from scratchy fabric, and the leather was worn in so there was no worry of burn.

Nate’s moves were better than I remembered. He’s a tall and strong guy, so his repositioning and flipping skills were top notch. When I was riding him, his calloused fingers scraped deliciously over the globes of my ass. He stretched them wide and caressed the line from my ass to where we connected, causing ripples of pleasure and bringing on my first orgasm.

Once I had gotten off, he flipped me off of him and had me kneeling on the cushions and bracing my hands on the back of the couch while he railed into me from behind. With one hand fisting my hair, the other rolled over my swollen clit. The angle he had me in had his dick reaching depths where only few men have gone.

He pumped into me with a speed and force that had my eyes rolling back in my head and, no lie, drool pooling in my mouth. At one point, he did some move with his hips that had his thick cock rubbing my g-spot until I finally exploded into a million little pieces. Nate soon followed after five hard thrusts.

All of that in just twenty-five minutes which meant we had time to dress, make ourselves presentable, and be back out there in time for Nate to return to his shift. But greedy me, deciding that it wasn’t quite enough, invited Nate to come home with me.

When his shift was over, he drove us to my house–since he hadn’t been drinking–where he proceeded to make me scream God four more times before the sun came up. And in the morning, he was quick to grab me a coffee and croissant from the bakery down the street before kissing me to the brink of insanity and telling me to call him whenever I was feeling lonely.

What started off as a day that I wanted to quickly erase from my memory, ended up being one I won’t soon forget.

Now I’m sitting here in my box, game three of the series and thank the Lord, Phoenix is in the bullpen in case they need him to pitch. It has been a blissful evening at the ballpark without having to hear or see that asshole. And aside from Kenrick–yes, he hit on me again–the guys have been loads of fun tonight.

“Viv,” someone calls.

I look over to see Ramirez smiling at me. Damn, he’s hot. Light brown skin that looks like he just stepped off the beach after a weeks long tropical vacation. Closely cropped hair that, I swear, always looks like he just had a fresh cut. Eyes that remind of rich chocolate, and a smile so bright it gleams.

I get all tingly just cataloging everything that sends my pulse racing.

“You coming out with us tonight?” he asks.

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