Hardball by CD Reiss Page B

a month ago that I was going to let a man put his fingers on my pussy then in my mouth, I would have made a lemon-face. But I wanted those fingers. It felt good to suck them and see the way he clamped his jaw tight and breathed through his teeth.
    “I like you, Dash,” I said when his fingers were out. “But I have to be honest. You scare me.”
    He straightened, making sure I didn’t fall. He put his arms around my waist and pulled up my pants. “You don’t scare me.”
    I buttoned myself up. Reality pushed against the walls of my fading orgasm. He’d opened me as if I had a latch and hinges. If I’d known he could do that, I would have run down that hill so fast the sidewalk would have broken under my feet. If I’d known he’d expose me so definitively and, with his warmth and gentleness, make me all right with it, I would have stood stock still at the front door and not known what to do. None of this was what I had expected. He was supposed to be a cavalier jerk. He wasn’t.
    “All right,” I said, having thought it through at the worst time and in the worst way possible. “But I want to warn you I’m not cynical or casual. If I start to…” I searched for the words, and they were all too loaded or too cold. None accurately described the breadth of my fear. “If I start to have feelings or if you’re careless with me, I’m cutting it short. Just for self-preservation.”
    “You’re risk-averse.” He gently pulled down my shirt.
    “Yeah. Also, I know what we just did, but no guarantees on the first date.”
    “I have to do something tomorrow. Let’s do Friday night. Let’s not waste time.” He smirked as if he knew damned well he was getting my clothes off on the first date.
    I was pretty sure I wouldn’t be able to resist him, but I didn’t want to rush. Even looking back on him having his hand down my pants scared the living hell out of me. The thought of going so far, so fast made me shake.
    I would just ride the break the next time I saw him.

fifteen
    Dash
    I had no idea what the fuck I was trying to do. I was a man who had control of his impulses, who knew what he wanted. A man who had made fucking decisions about his fucking life, not a fourteen-year-old with an amateur pituitary gland.
    But I’d kissed her the whole way down to her car, and now, an hour later, I still stood watching the spot where it had been. A Lexus was parked there now, but all I saw was that deathtrap of a Nissan. I’d never cared about teachers’ salaries until I saw that car.
    I could still smell her pussy on my fingers. I didn’t want to jerk off. I wanted her. I wanted to want her as much as I wanted her to just disappear so I could live my life.
    I wasn’t supposed to have a girl in LA, but I’d figured it wouldn’t be a big deal if it ended in the spring. Then I’d agreed to continue past that. Well, I’d agreed to not dismiss the idea. I’d keep up my end of the deal with her. I wouldn’t end it definitively or give it an expiration date. I couldn’t imagine I’d have any interest from Arizona though.
    But man, she was something. I got in the shower to get the sweat off me and took one last whiff of her before handling the soap.
    I didn’t chase after women generally. They chased me, which was convenient, or I did without. I didn’t do without very often.
    I wasn’t an asshole. Or maybe I was. I didn’t want to get attached when all I did was practice and travel, and nothing was going to come before the game. Nothing. Being clear with myself about what I wanted from a woman was a virtue, not a sin. And I was honest with every one of them every time. It was easier that way. I was a shitty liar.
    Getting involved with Vivian was a rule-bender, but she had something.
    I jerked off anyway.
    By the time I was dressed, I was late. I had an assistant to help me manage my time with the team, but when I was alone, time management was a struggle. I lost track of how long things took and wildly over- or