Pitch Please (There's No Crying in Baseball 1)

Giggling, I was just picking up my shirt when a knock sounded at the door.

But instead of whomever it was waiting to get permission, they just walked right in.

“Listen, Sway,” Sinclair was saying before he’d even looked up. “Croft is having some lower groin issues that I think you should take a look…”

He stopped as I hastily yanked my shirt down over my breasts. My unbound breasts.

“Get out!” I screamed. “And it’s customary to freakin’ wait for a knock to be answered before you just come busting in!”

“Well, Hancock just came out— so I assumed you were done checking his groin for injuries,” he sneered. “It’s only fair that you check Croft, too.”

I narrowed my eyes.

“Get out,” I snapped. “And it’s your job as my assistant to take care of the non-starters. Always has been, always will be. Now get out.”

Normally, I would’ve looked at it.

I did not care who started and who didn’t. I treated them all equally. Croft, however, gave me the creeps. He also tried to come on to me more than once while Hancock was away. Normally, that would be fine, I could handle it. I had handled it from other players and staff before.

However, this time, Croft had seriously squigged me out.

So much so that I was glad I was staying at Hancock’s place that had security in the form of an alarm and a big, bad half-breed Husky to protect me.

Sinclair’s eyes went to my unbound breasts behind my t-shirt, and I was just about to tell him to get out again when a hand flashed into the room, gripped Sinclair around the neck, and yanked him back out of the room.

The smile that lit my face was likely a mean one, but there was nothing for it.

Hancock was a freakin’ dream come true. He was everything and anything I could’ve ever asked for.

He protected me even when I didn’t realize I needed protecting.

“Thank you!” I called out. “I’ll be out in just a few minutes so we can leave!”

“You’re welcome,” came Hancock’s gruff reply.

***

“I think your parents like me,” Hancock mumbled as he curled into me. “Do you think they liked me?”

I sighed.

“They loved you, Hancock. Or they would’ve never invited you to their place,” I informed him for the fifth time. “Promise. Now go to sleep.”

He rolled so he was on top of me.

“What if I didn’t want to go to sleep?” he asked, wiggling his big body until he fell between my thighs.

I lifted my hips to grind my unclothed nether regions into his thickening cock and raised my brows. “What did you have in mind?”

His mouth lifted at the corner, and then he took my hands and pinned them above my head.

“I guess I’ll have to show you.”

And he showed me. Multiple times throughout the night.

Sleep was overrated anyway.

***

“Tell me what happened.”

He shook his head. “I don’t want to talk about it right now. Right now, I just want to hold you.”

“But you’ll tell me?”

He nodded. “When I can.”

And I gave him that, because that’s what happened when the man you loved asked for more time.Chapter 23Masturbation is a form of stress relief. So, go fuck yourself and check the bitch at the door next time you visit.

-Hancock’s secret thoughts

Hancock

“Can we help?” I called to the woman who was stalled in the middle of the road.

Gentry stopped next to me, panting heavily, just like me, from our run, and stared at the lady with concern.

The woman started to cry.

“That would be wonderful,” she wiped her tears. “My son is in the backseat, and I’ve been trying to get out, but every time I do, a car whizzes by.”

We were on a main road in the busiest part of Longview, during rush hour, when everyone drove like assholes to get home.

So yeah, I could understand her hesitation to get out of the vehicle.

“Put it in neutral,” I hollered. “And keep your foot off the break!”

Once we were sure we weren’t going to be run over—because that would be a lot fun to explain to our coach—Gentry and I got behind the SUV and started to push.

Gentry cursed, and I looked over at him to see him shaking out his left hand while he pushed with his shoulder and right hand.

“What?” I asked, straining.

The SUV started to roll slowly forward, but eventually started to gain speed giving us a small break, and I grunted.

“Jesus, it feels like there are bricks in this thing,” Gentry grumbled, sweat pouring even more heavily down his face.

I looked up in time to see the parking lot ahead, and I yelled out over the din of traffic.

“Turn the wheel!”

She turned the wheel, and we managed to push it the last few feet into the parking lot before it stopped completely.

“Damn,” Gentry said, backing away.

The woman hurried out of the SUV, and she ran to the back hatch where we were leaning heavily.