A device at the other end shoots out a ball, and he swings at it. The crack noise follows as his bat makes contact with the ball, sending it flying across the cage.
He readjusts the bat, bends his knees, and another ball flies directly at him. Once again, he hits it, making a grunting sound.
I find a long bench against the wall underneath a rack of baseball bats and sit down.
He hasn’t noticed me. But I’m easy to ignore.
Another ball shoots out and he swings, missing this one. He lets out a curse under his breath as if he’s playing in a game and letting his team down.
The next ball is launched at him, and he swings, hitting it.
I watch the way his back muscles tighten in his stance. The way his jaw sharpens right before he swings. And the way his abs tense when he sucks in a breath.
The man is gorgeous. It’s so unfair how attracted I am to him, knowing that he’s just going to walk away from me once this is all over. That my time with him is limited, and who knows when that will be.
He hits one more and then stands to his full height. Dropping the bat to hang down by his side, he turns to exit the cage, and his eyes land on mine, making him pause.
I stay silent. What is there to say at this point? He’s avoiding me, and I’m stalking him. Seems pretty obvious to me who is the one obsessed here.
He clears his throat and exits the cage. Walking over to me, he hangs the bat up and grabs a towel off a shelf, wiping his sweaty face.
“Do you come down here often?” I break the awkward silence.
“Not as much as I’d like.” He surprises me by answering.
“It’s nice,” I say stupidly. It’s exactly what I’d expect a King to have.
“We all have one,” he adds.
“Batting cages?”
“Basements.” He points over at a door in the corner of the far end. “There is a tunnel that runs from each house.”
Of course, there is.
“Grave has a bowling alley. Cross has batting cages like me, and Titan has a shooting range.”
I have a feeling none of them get used often. Dropping my head to avoid his stare, I, however, can’t avoid the elephant in the room. “Why are you avoiding me?” I ask softly.
Feeling his hand grab my chin, he forces me to look up at him. “I’m not avoiding you.”
“Then where have you been?” I hate that I care what he’s been up to. That he’s taken up my mind. Filling it with thoughts that he’s been with someone else. A woman that he wasn’t forced to have a fake relationship with. “I can leave if you want me to.”
His dark brows pull down. “Why would I want that?”
“So you can come home,” I answer. “I don’t want you not to come home because I’m here.”
Letting go of my chin, he grabs my hand and yanks me to stand. “Dillan—”
He cuts me off, his lips on mine. The kiss is tender, and it doesn’t make the situation any better. Just makes me even more confused as to what we’re doing. There’s no reason to kiss me right now. No one to show off to. I’m overthinking it, and I know it. But I’m not a fuck ’em and leave ’em kind of woman. He has to know what he’s putting me through.
He picks me up off the floor, and I wrap my legs around his waist, and he sits down on the bench. Pulling his mouth free of mine, he rips my shirt up and over my head. I undo his jeans and pull out his dick. He’s as hard as I am wet.
Fuck, I should not be this attracted to this man. I shouldn’t need him as much as I do.
His hand goes to my hair, pulling my lips back onto his. His other hand grips my ass, his hips rocking back and forth while my hands fall between our bodies.
“You’re not leaving me,” he growls, pulling away from my now swollen lips again.
“No?” I ask breathlessly.
“No.” His hand drops between us, and he pushes my underwear to the side, sliding his cock into my pussy, making me whimper. “You’re staying here. With me. Forever.” His hands fall to my hips, and he moves my body, rocking them back and forth, fucking his dick. We’ve never done it like this before. But even though I’m on top, he’s the one controlling me.
“Okay,” I agree. My head falls back, giving his lips access to my neck. Being his prisoner sounds pretty good to me. “Just don’t stop,” I whimper.
“Never.” He grabs my hands and shoves them behind my back, holding them hostage in one of his while the other comes up and wraps around my throat, taking away my air. I don’t fight him, giving him whatever he wants. Dillan Reed can do whatever he wants with me, and I realize I’d beg him for it.