Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 85838 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 429(@200wpm)___ 343(@250wpm)___ 286(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85838 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 429(@200wpm)___ 343(@250wpm)___ 286(@300wpm)
“You want something from me?” I ask playfully.
He leans in, offering me his lips. “I got hurt in the game, and I need you to give me a kiss to make it better,” Zane says.
“You are such a ham,” I deadpan, but I cup his cheeks and kiss him before the entire baseball stadium.
Because he’s my ham.
34
THE OTHER NIGHT
Maddox
After the game, I wait outside the ballpark for a tired but uninjured first baseman. He strides out of the players’ entrance, marches over to me under the streetlamp, and wraps an arm around my shoulders. Apparently, he hasn’t gotten the PDA out of his system, since he gives me another hot kiss. “Making up for lost time,” he murmurs.
“You say that like it’s been years of you wanting to kiss me in public,” I say as I walk him to my car.
“Feels that way to me,” he says with a shrug.
I duck my head, feeling naked, and loving it. What can I say? I’m an attention hound, and he gives me what I’ve always craved.
When we reach my car, I open the door for him. Once I’m behind the wheel, I click the start button, but Zane’s hand comes down on my wrist. “I have some news for you,” he says like he’s about to share a big secret he’s been hiding up his sleeve.
“Tell me,” I say, damn curious.
“You know Trace Woodson?”
“Of course. We talked to him last night.”
“He wants to join you when you start your one-man shop.”
I blink. I didn’t see that coming. Maybe I should have, but I sure didn’t think Zane would be greasing wheels for me. “He said something to you?”
Zane nods proudly. “He got your follow-up text today. He said he appreciated it, and when I talked you up, he said he wants to work with you. He’s so over big agencies.”
I’ve heard that before from others, like Braxton. But Trace seems real. And technically, I won’t be violating my contract with CTM if I sign Trace, because he hasn’t been approached by anyone at CTM. “So you really talked me up?” I’m not shocked, but I am ecstatic.
“I was busy before the game, handsome.” With a smug smile, Zane taps his chest. “Playing first base, I kinda know everyone. I chat the guys up when they visit me in the games. I have lots of friends in the league. So yeah, the All-Star Game seemed the perfect time to make the rounds. I spread the word that the best agent in the biz is building a brand-new client roster, and he’s only got room for a handful of elite players.”
My jaw comes unhinged. “You said that?”
“Well, it’s true. You told me at the pool earlier that you’re starting a real boutique shop. You want to focus on a select group of clients—”
“—I know. I’m just amazed you did that!”
He scoffs. “Really? I fucking love you. You put your job on the line for me. To be with me. Did you really think I wouldn’t do something for you? I’m getting you some clients, sweetheart,” he says, leaning in, brushing his nose against mine. “I’m helping you start your one-man band. Cohen with the Comets is looking for new representation. Tanner isn’t happy with his sitch. And that Sutton dude who barreled into me is looking for a new rep.”
Zane pulls back, then rattles off a few more names of guys looking for new representation. “I told them I had the best agent in town,” he says with a frown. “I’ll miss working with you.”
“Me too, but it wouldn’t be right,” I say. I can’t take him. He’s Vance’s. I won’t violate my employment contract with CTM. Fortunately, I fall under the ninety-day window. Either party can terminate without cause in the first three months. The only thing I can’t do? Take clients that belong to CTM. Clients that I didn’t bring over. But I don’t need to poach. I’ve got a big brain, a ton of chutzpah, and whole lot of big dick energy when it comes to my job.
Most of all, I have something else. This man who went to bat for me. Just like I did for him.
Zane waggles his wrist, wincing slightly. “You know, Mad…this still hurts. You know what that means?”
“No sex for you?”
“Please. I’ve got a strategy for every at-bat on the field and in bed.”
The strategy is this—no weight on his wrist.
There is no scene tonight. Just us in the dark, on my bed, me on my side and Zane spooning me. He’s deep inside me, sliding my knee up to my chest. Wrapping an arm around my pecs, burying his face in my neck. Kissing and fucking.
He’s taking me apart thrust by luxuriously slow thrust. With each pump of his hips, he kisses my neck, my shoulder, my hair.