Tears blurred in her eyes as he strode toward her, lifting her into a bear hug. She laughed without restraint as he spun her in a circle around home plate, her arms clinging to his neck. “Show-off,” she breathed into his ear. “How did that feel?”
“Good.” He shook his head. “No. Great.”
She held him tighter, sensing them walking but uncaring of where they ended up as long as he kept her wrapped in his arms. Remembering their morning conversation about wanting her touch, a dam inside Georgie split down the middle and burst open. She licked a stream of rain off his neck. Her thighs itched to climb higher on Travis’s hips, so she let them and then twisted her fingers into his shirt collar to keep him in place for a kiss.
“Thank you.” His eyes ran laps over her face, his fingers stroking the side. “How do you do that? You . . . accept me. Exactly as I am. But you still change me for the better.”
I love you. That’s how. She couldn’t say it out loud, so she leaned in for a kiss instead.
When their mouths joined, it wasn’t just a kiss. It was gratitude and adrenaline. Excitement and support and love. And it was frantic, rain-soaked glory. Georgie sank so deep into the kiss, she didn’t realize they were in the dugout until Travis fell onto the bench, her legs still fashioned around his waist, their faces a mere centimeter apart. Breathing heavy. The change in position brought her aching center down on Travis’s erection, catapulting her into a deep abyss of lust. She clung to his wide shoulders and worked herself up and back on the rigid flesh, encouraged by his biting curse.
“Please. Please, baby girl. Don’t grind that little thing on me unless your pants are off,” he growled against her mouth. “I need inside that pussy.”
“You can have whatever you want,” she whispered brokenly, drifting into that mind space that made her the hottest. Let Travis put his needs on display so she could be the one who took care of them. And after last night, she knew giving led to Travis worshipping her in return. Giving until his body couldn’t anymore. The promise of that made her all the more eager to match his hunger now. “Tell me what you want.”
Travis’s energy shifted and he lifted her off his lap with a harsh expletive, yanking down her yoga pants and practical white bikini underwear. Revealing her flushed sex. With a groan, he lowered the front waistband of his shorts, taking out his thick arousal, stroking it once in that big hand—never taking his eyes off her. “Get on your knees and suck this cock.”
Georgie dipped, her legs losing their ability to keep her upright. She caught herself on two powerful, hair-covered thighs, her face level with Travis’s lap. His scent was earthy and masculine, musky from their run—and hell if that didn’t turn her on more. The filth of it. Having her bare knees in the dirt, perspiration still cooling on their skin, while a curtain of rain sealed them tight in the darkness. It was wrong and forbidden, and she craved it.
Travis reached out, riding his thumb along the crease of her lips. “Give me somewhere sweet to put this.”
She’d imagined this scenario so many times. Driving Travis to the point of pain with her mouth, then relieving him. Such power in being on her knees. Her stance widened in the dirt, her hips tilting in a need to draw his eyes. After a breath for courage, she wrapped her hands around the ruddy base of his erection, her mouth closing over the head in a drawn-out pull, her grip twisting like a locking mechanism, the way she’d seen women do in videos.
“Oh. Fuck,” Travis gritted out, his thighs jerking, feet lifting and landing back in the dirt. “Go easy, Georgie baby. Jesus. You’ve got a fucking mouth on you.”
Go easy? Easier said than done. The taste of him, salty and raw, hit the back of her throat and she couldn’t get enough. His hair tickled her wrists and cheeks as she delved in for another hard suck, her right hand pumping busily. A spurt of liquid landed on her tongue and she moaned, taking him deeper, seeking more.
“Hot, wet little mouth. You’re killing me with it.” Travis came to his feet with a shout, one hand on the back of her head, the other wrapped around a dugout rafter. His thighs crowded either side of her face, half of his smooth bulk buried in her mouth. He rolled his hips back, bringing all but the tip of his arousal out of her mouth, before pumping back in slowly, deeply, her lips stretching around his flesh. “That your limit, baby girl?”
Georgie saw the underlying concern in Travis’s gaze and nodded, nuzzling her cheek in the hair on his thighs. Encouraging him to thrust into her mouth again—and Lord, he did. With a guttural sound, he fisted the hair at the back of her head and started a soft pound, never going past the line they’d drawn, but taking filthy advantage of everything leading to that point. His hips punched, filling her mouth with sex, and every inch of Georgie—inside and out—reacted to the perfection of it. With her head tipped back, knees in the dirt, a man using her mouth, she’d never felt more like a woman. The more his fist tightened in her hair, the more she took of him, letting him invade her throat. Listening to him bark dirty words, the force of them echoing in the dugout. “Need” was a pitiful word for the state she entered and became immersed in, her thighs shaking, belly hollowing.
“Up,” Travis shouted, jerking Georgie to her feet. He ripped the shirt over her head, desperate hands shoving the sports bra up to her neck. Their panting mouths met and molded as he fell onto the bench, ripping a condom from his sagging pocket and rolling it down his arousal. He grabbed Georgie’s bottom and urged her onto his lap, shooting forward to take one of her nipples into his mouth. “Fuck me. Ride me.” His right hand came down and delivered a mean slap to her backside. “Do it now.”
His hand moved between them, and Georgie sobbed when the thick head of Travis’s erection found her entrance, wedging inside. She was a little swollen from last night’s first time, the intensity of it, but she worked her hips and took Travis’s full length, sinking down and down until her backside hit his thighs. “Oh God. So big.”
“That’s right. I got big . . .” Eyes glazed, he licked at her mouth. “And you got tight. That’s why you’re going to spend a lot of time with your panties hanging off one ankle.”
Out of necessity, Georgie shifted to find a comfortable position, gasping at the zing of friction on her clit. She rubbed herself against his hard flesh again, her mouth open and moaning on Travis’s shoulder. The movement naturally rode her up and down on Travis’s pulsing erection, and his enjoyment was on full display, his head tipped back, eyes blind. Something didn’t quite allow Georgie to drop into the moment, though. Just like that time in Travis’s bedroom, she ached for the thrill of being pinned.
“I don’t know if I can . . .” She broke off in a whimper when Travis began kneading her bottom, coaxing her into a slick, erotic rhythm, her sex riding up and down his length. God, it felt so good, the give and take of soaked flesh, their shallow breaths mingling with the pelting rain, his chest hair abrading her nipples. But her mind wouldn’t turn off the way it did when Travis was on top. She wanted him to hold the reins. “I don’t think I can . . . like this.”
“The hell you can’t.” Travis sat up straight, yanking her hips closer. He took her face in his hands, breathing heavy against her mouth. “You might be on top, but I’m still in charge, aren’t I?” He kissed her long and hard while those words sunk in. “If I wanted to flip you onto your back on this bench and break you off, I wouldn’t ask permission.”
While he spoke, Georgie’s hips began to move of their own accord. Out of pure necessity. Her thighs flexed, bringing her up, body rolling, ears dying to hear more. Because he was right. She wasn’t running the show. On top or not, her pleasure was Travis’s to give.
“Hey.” He caught her chin in a firm hand, tilted his hips with a groan—wicked intention in the set of his jaw, the curl of his lips. “My dick aches so bad. Make it stop.”
There was no hesitation after that. Only deep, wild lust. This was the part she needed so desperately to play. The embodiment of relief. The only one who could make him erupt. Georgie closed her eyes, using her index and middle fingers to toy with her nipples, all the while lifting and twisting back down on Travis’s thickness. His choked sounds, the chafing of his hungry, calloused hands on her thighs and bottom, all turned her desire up to the highest decibel. He grew larger inside her with every stroke of their joined bodies, his groans turning to punctuated grunts—and already she knew that signaled the end of his tether.
And that’s what broke her, along with the mind-blowing friction, the pressure in her nipples and clit—Travis giving in to the inevitable. Not being able to stand the pleasure. His arms flew wide to grip the bench, his teeth clamping down hard on his full lower lip. “Can’t hold it in. Can’t hold it in. Fuck, you’re working my cock so good, baby girl. Spoiling me.”
Georgie pressed her naked breasts to Travis’s heaving chest, letting her mouth linger a breath away from his. Lapping at him once. “I want to make you come so hard.”