Quit Your Pitchin' (There's No Crying in Baseball 2)

Dodger had never been a part of Micah’s life—or our life as a married couple. He was there when I was a better story after our divorce, but that wasn’t because he was checking on me. He just wanted the story.

A story in which I had never wanted to give him.

Who wanted to relive their worst moments in life?

I knew for sure that I didn’t.

“I’ve been busy,” Dodger hedged. “And this is all your fault anyway.”

I frowned and turned slightly in my seat to look at him.

“All my fault?” I asked incredulously. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

Dodger bared his teeth. “Ever since my boss found out that my sister was married to you, I’ve been forced to do these fucking pieces on you and only you because you’re so goddamn popular. Why the hell does it matter? Why are you so fuckin’ special lately?”

I wish I had the answer to that myself.

“I got nothin’ man,” I admitted. “I’m sorry that I hit you in the nose.”

That was a lie.

I wasn’t sorry for a goddamn thing.

Not even hitting his sorry ass.

“Whatever,” he muttered.

My lips twitched.

The door to the cruiser I was currently sitting in opened, and the cop gestured for me to get out.

“Sorry about that, Mr. Hoffman,” the officer apologized. “We reviewed the security tapes like you suggested and saw everything. You’re free to go.”

I got out, offered the cop my hand, and said thank you before heading into the building.

I didn’t stop until I was at the apartment door.

Knocking once—since I still didn’t have a key—I waited for Wrigley to open the door.

Something in which she didn’t hesitate in doing.

She looked worried.

But the moment that she saw it was me, she threw herself into my arms.

“God, George,” she whispered. “I was so scared.”

I wrapped my arms around her and shuffled us so that we were inside, and then shut the door and locked it.

The moment my hand was back around her shoulders, she started to cry.

“Don’t cry, honey,” I murmured roughly. “It’s okay.”

“That could’ve been so bad,” she moaned. “You could’ve gotten hurt. Micah could’ve gotten hurt again.”

I wholeheartedly agreed. “That’s why I want you to move back into our home. That’s also why I’m considering getting a security detail for you.”

Her eyes widened.

“You think we need one?”

I nodded against her face.

“I think so, too.”

The fact that she agreed told me exactly how bad it’d gotten.

I turned my face in and pressed my lips to her throat, feeling the strong and steady pulse against my tongue.

She shivered and pivoted her body until she was touching me from breast to knees.

I could feel the pebble of her nipples, and the increase of her heart rate against my tongue.

“Is it too early to tell you that I want to get married again?” I asked, hoping and praying that I wasn’t rushing this.

She pulled away and pinned me with an even stare. “I’ve regretted my decisions for a really long time now. It would make me the happiest woman alive if you allowed me the chance to rectify my poor choices.”

My lip twitched in amusement.

“Vegas?”

She nodded. “Vegas.”

Lucy barked.

Apparently, she agreed, too.

Then we didn’t say much more.

After checking to make sure that Micah was still asleep, we became reacquainted with each other’s bodies.

Hers more than mine.

I was still exactly the same.

Her, on the other hand…

“When did this happen?” I asked, pressing my lips to a particularly sensitive spot just underneath her breast.

“I have no idea,” she admitted. “But I’m glad that you found it.”

I chuckled and circled my tongue up to round the peak of her nipple, then pulled back far enough that I could blow on the path I’d just taken with my tongue.

She shivered, and her nipple pebbled even harder.

I grinned and switched to the other breast, doing the exact same thing.

“God,” she breathed, arching upward. “You’re not even doing anything down there, and I can feel it.”

I bit down gently, and she wiggled.

“Please, hurry,” she ordered.

I sat up on my knees and pulled her panties off her hips, tossing them in the direction of the door.

My pants soon followed hers, followed shortly by my shirt.

And suddenly I was blissfully naked, with my cock resting once again at her entrance.

“Put it inside me,” she pleaded.

I did.

My cock slid home, and the groan that left me felt like it was ripped straight the hell out of my chest.

A gasp tore free of Wrigley’s lips, and suddenly, nothing felt wrong anymore.

Everything, everything in the entire world, just felt right.

I pumped inside of her, faster and harder than the time before, until both of us were on the cusp of falling over the edge.

And the first one to come—me…it was always me—took her along for the ride.

She clamped down on my cock, massaging the head and shaft and pulling every single last drop of cum from my shaft.