Page 51 of West Bound

Images of CeCe running through the back hallways of Wrangler Stadium in her sky high heels and pencil skirt has me giggling a little. She’s so tall, she probably looks like Wonder Woman or one of the Amazonian women running into battle.

Minutes pass when I hear the clipping for heels barreling down the stairs. I turn around to see CeCe pushing past fans and media to get to me.

Her feet barely come to a stop when she heaves out, “what the fuck do you mean you let Phoenix finger bang you?”

“Shhhh! Will you keep your voice down?” I scold. “Get in here so I can tell you. Jesus, loud mouth.”

I stand up from my stool and open the gate that keeps me in and the riff-raff out.

“Spill, you little hoochie.” She stands there with her arms crossed over her chest and a stern look on her face.

“Okay first, let’s lose the attitude Judge Judy.” She drops her arms and the look on her face softens…a little. “Second…”I pause and take a deep breath, then proceed to fill her in on all that happened from being manhandled and tossed into the trainers room like a prisoner–maybe I exaggerated a tad–to the mind blowing orgasm Phoenix gave me, to the words he said that had me re-thinking the meaning of life. Because really, if I’m considering another rendezvous with Phoenix, I must be in another dimension.

“He called you a dirty little slut?” she asks.

“Not a dirty little slut. His dirty little slut. And who cares about that. I need to know what to do.”

She taps a long red nail against her matching lips and her eyes stare off into the distance. It’s her thinking face so what she’s about to say must be really good.

“So he fucked you stupid a couple weeks ago, then fingered you into oblivion just now and you’re mad about that? I’m…really confused.”

I punch her arm and slump back in my stool. “I’m mad because I don’t want to want him. I don’t want to like it. But goddammit every time that jerk is within twenty feet of me, my brain shuts down and my vagina kicks into high gear.”

“Hmm,” she murmurs, folding her arms across her chest. “That is a problem, seeing as he’s a giant dickhole. I mean, it’s one thing if you just wanna fuck him and chuck him. But it seems like maybe…there’s more?”

My jaw dropped and so did the feeling in my stomach. “How dare you make such ludicrous accusations. I should titty twist you for that but I won’t…because I’m a professional and because there are too many people watching.”

CeCe holds up her hands and I flip my head to focus on the field. An announcer is on the field talking about a group of kids that were there as part of a charity event. I try to focus on the kids but I’m hyper aware of CeCe staring at me, as well as the dugout that is filling with big bodies.

“What?” I finally ask her.

“Nothing. I completely agree that this is a bad position for you to be in. You hate him–completely justified–but your body wants him. I feel your pain. We are both kind of sitting in this same conundrum. Hating that we want what we want.” CeCe gets this far off look in her eyes, and I nod and stare out to the empty pitcher's mound.

“And now. The starting line up for your Houston Wrrraaanglers!” The announcer's voice cuts through our moment and we bring our focus back to the game. The booming voice announces each player and their position while their walk-up song plays and the crowd goes wild.

“And your starting pitcher for tonight…Phoenix ‘Wild Wild’ West!” The stadium goes ballistic and I wonder when he got saddled with the new nickname.

His song starts to play and I feel my stomach churn. Pony by Ginuwine blasts, the bass bumping hard, and I watch as Phoenix makes his way out of the bullpen and towards the mound. As he draws closer, his eyes laser focus in on me and a cocky, beautiful smirk spreads across his stupidly gorgeous face.

I can’t help but think this is a tongue-in-cheek nod to when I called him pony boy our night together.

Of course it is, dimwit.

His eyes stay locked with mine and as he passes, gives me a wink then runs his fingers under his nose, inhaling deeply and closing his eyes like the scent that remains is the best he’s ever experienced.

“Did he just–”

“Smell the fingers that were inside of me? Yup, he sure did.”

My nipples harden and my core tingles remembering how he felt inside of me. My body is already buzzing when he’s near, like it knows he’s the only one who can make it feel more than just satisfaction.

But I hate him!

CeCe was one hundred percent correct. My mind hates him, but my body sure doesn’t. And more than anything, I hate that I want him.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

PHOENIX

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