Third Base (The Boys of Summer 1)

Everyone laughs and I half expect Daisy to turn away, but she’s focused on me.

“Steve wanted me to let everyone know that he’s sorry he couldn’t be here, and was kind enough to write my speech. Thing is, I didn’t read it beforehand and I’m not sure it works for tonight.

“We’ve all come together for one reason – to raise money for the community. I’m not going to ask you to open your checkbooks and start scribbling your name. Instead, I’m going to ask that you think about what it means to give back, because sometimes it’s not always about the money. When I’m not playing, I’m walking the children’s wing of the hospital or I’m down at the community center helping to repair a swing set or painting over the graffiti’d walls. I could just give them money, but without volunteers to actually do the work, that money is being spent on contractors when it could be spent directly on the children. My mom always used to say ‘Give a man a fish and you feed him for a day. Teach a man to fish and you’ll feed him for life.’ Even though I know we’re not teaching these kids to make their own meals, I’d like to think that the same applies here.

“So tonight, when you’re asked to open your checkbooks, please consider volunteering your time as well. One is good but without the other, neither one will go nearly as far.”

Daisy is the first one to stand and start clapping. Others quickly follow her, as the applause grows louder. I’ve had standing ovations before, but this one is by far the best.

“That was amazing,” she says as she molds herself into my arms. Holding her has to be the best thing on earth, and especially right now. I have no doubt, that after tonight, other things are going to start ranking up on the best list right along with her.

I’m nervous about taking her to my place. All night I’ve thought about how I would ask her to come to my place. Only for our night to end before the words could be said. Call me a chicken or a coward, but it’s just hard to grasp whether she likes me or not. Sure, tonight she was on par with the likability, but there are times when I can’t read her at all.

The driver stops and suddenly my hands are twitching and my pal

ms are sweating. My mouth is dry and my tongue feels like its three feet thick in my mouth. My fear is that when I finally have the guts to speak, I’ll be too hard to understand and she’ll make fun of me.

“Is this your place?” she asks, breaking the ice. God, she’s amazing and perfect. I don’t know if she senses my unease or what, but she has a way of making me feel comfortable.

“Yes. I thought we could go in for a bit and celebrate your birthday.”

“I’d like that.” Even in the dark of the back seat I can see her smile. As soon as I pull the lever to open my door, the driver is out of the car and opening the door for Daisy. I stay seated, watching as she takes his hand to get out and her dress falls perfectly into place. I groan, thinking about what’s underneath, wondering if I’m going to get a visual or have to rely strictly on my imagination.

“Will you be needing my services?” The driver asks when I come around the back to meet Daisy.

“No, thank you,” I tell him. Daisy will have to go home eventually, but I’ll be driving her there and walking her to her door like a proper gentlemen.

I hold Daisy’s hand and walk slowly up the steps to my brownstone. I have a feeling she already knew where I lived, but was playing along to save my dignity. Once inside, she lets go of my hand and walks straight into my living room. I have the lights on timers to ward off burglars. Plus, it’s nice coming home to a few lights on after a game. Makes me feel like someone is waiting up for me.

“Feel free to look around.” I set my keys on the table and slip off my tuxedo jacket as I follow her around. She moves from the living room into the kitchen, touching various things. I stand in the doorway when she walks into my room, watching her take everything in.

When she turns, I’m already undoing my bowtie. The air between us is crackling with a combination of what I can only hope is sexual tension and nervous excitement. We each take one or maybe two steps and then our mouths are crashing into each other. I hiss at the contact. My skin burns when we touch and my ache grows. My desire for her is fueled when her tongue seeks permission to enter my mouth. There’s nothing slow about this kiss. It’s nothing like I ever imagined it would be. Her fingers are in my hair and my right hand is cupping her face while my left arm is holding her to me. Her hands start roaming up and down my chest, and with the slightest tug of my buttons, I’m walking her backwards toward my bed.

I hate tearing my mouth away from hers, but I only do so to enable me to take off my shirt. With each button that comes undone she eyes me, watching me work. I capture her mouth again, our tongues meeting and working to increase the passion between us. She tugs at my undershirt, causing me to stand back up. I pull my hands through my sleeves, popping off my cuffs links. They clank somewhere in the room, no doubt to be found by my housekeeper later. Daisy kicks off her shoes as I pull off my undershirt. She scoots to the middle of my bed. The vision of her lying there is sending all the blood in my body to my increasing bulge.

My pants stay on, but I shed my socks and shoes before climbing onto the bed to join her. I don’t know whether to lie on top of her or beside her. Everything I know about women is all for naught because this girl is different. Her eyes are rapturous and I want to ravage her. I want to feast on what she’s bringing to the table and never let her go. I trail my finger down her chest and run it along the top of her dress. Daisy takes my hand, kissing my palm, before sitting up and turning around. Her head turns slightly over her shoulder and she looks at me with nothing but pure desire.

Her zipper moves painstakingly slow. My fingers glide along the back of her shoulders, pushing her straps down. It’s only then that I take in what’s she’s wearing under her dress: A black lace bra with the sexiest pair of black panties. Secretly, I’m happy she’s not wearing a thong because now I have more to imagine.

I pull her dress up over her head and lay it behind me, near the edge of the bed. It’s as delicate as she is, especially since I heard her tell one of the ladies tonight that it was her grandmother’s. I pull her to me and press my lips to her neck then her collarbone. Her breathing is rapid, causing me to pause.

“What’s wrong?”

“Not…” she clears her throat. “Nothing.” She tries to smile, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. I turn her around so she’s facing me. Her eyes are downcast, avoiding me.

“Daisy,” I say as I lift her chin to look at me. “Please don’t shut me out.”

She closes her eyes and tries to relax. “I’ve never done this before.” Her words are matter of fact and have me both rejoicing and freaking the fuck out. I can’t let her see that I’m panicking though.

“We can go slow, or we can put our clothes back on. Nothing has to happen.” I’m such a liar. I want her legs wrapped around my waist in the worst way.

“I want to try. Maybe not all tonight, but I want to try with you.”

“Are you sure?” My voice breaks like a puberty stricken teenager.

She nods and lets her fingers dance over my skin. With each touch, she leaves a path of intense feeling behind. I don’t know what it is about her touch, or about her, but my body enjoys the ache she brings. It welcomes her with open arms, begging for her to be near.

This time our kiss is slow as I cradle her face in my hands. I nip at her lower lip, teasing her and myself until I can’t take anymore. My tongue glides along her lips asking for entrance into her delectable little mouth. She moans when our tongues meet and her hand tugs at my hair. I pull her closer to me until I’m leaning over her and we’re falling back onto my bed.