Page 38 of Pitcher Perfect (Big Shots #4)

the moment where he rolled an unclothed Skylar onto her back and fucked his tongue into her mouth, her thighs spreading open

for his hips, their trembling intakes of breath so unique, so powerful to him. A sign there were depths there he’d never plumbed,

but desperately needed to.

“Are we officially removing the ‘maybe’ in ‘maybe fucking’?”

“I couldn’t even spell ‘maybe’ right now.”

He huffed an uneven laugh against her chin. “Was it ever a maybe, Skylar?”

“No,” she whispered, fingers in his hair. “You were never a maybe.”

Robbie had to bury his face in her neck, because he couldn’t judge his own expression. Just knew it had to be too revealing

on top of every confession he’d just made, especially when his body was so primed he could barely leash his response to her

touch, her scent, the fact that she was going to let him inside of her.

Inside of Skylar.

“First things first,” Robbie managed. “What kind of birth control are we working with? I have condoms in my bag. Are you on

anything?” His forehead rolled side to side on top of hers. “Fill me in, because I’m going to have a real hard time thinking

in, like, thirty seconds.”

“I’m on the pill. And my parents made me get a physical before the Page Stakes.”

“That’s psychotic, but great?” He could hear the pain in his own laughter. “I’m all clear, too, as of last week if—”

“Yes.”

“Really?” Robbie almost wept with joy. He’d never, not once in his life, had sex without a condom, but he felt the pressing need for tonight to be different than anyone or anything else that came before. “No condom? You’re sure.”

Skylar nodded, her eyes full of trust that, frankly, humbled the shit out of him.

“Then let me get you ready, girl,” he muttered thickly into her neck, his teeth locking around her ear, sucking the skin beneath

while he eased to the side enough to get his fingers between her legs, using his thumb to slide down from the top of her slit

to that wet bud, rubbing it gently, teasing it until it started to swell, her head throwing itself back on the pillow, lips

parted on hot intakes of breath. “God. You get wet so fucking fast.”

Eyes closed, she shook her head.

“Just for me?”

She nodded. “Yeah.”

His chest crowded with flawed but honest male pride and he sank his middle and ring finger inside of her in response. Deep. “Keep it that way.”

Skylar pulled him down for a kiss, part punishment for his being high-handed, part necessity because there was nothing else

but each other in this moment, his fingers pumping gently but deep into her slick cunt, their tongues seeking deeper and deeper

recesses of each other’s mouths. His dick hurt in ways he couldn’t have imagined, waiting to be buried in this girl, and he

would, he would find out what it felt like any second, but he was growing addicted to the whimpers she made every time his tongue did a lap

in her mouth, his fingers fucking her now a little on the rough side, but she liked it. She loved it. Bit his bottom lip and

tugged, mewling, reaching down to press his fingers deeper.

“ Fuck , you are so hot,” he growled between kisses, hard sucks of her neck. “Can’t wait to sit in the stands at your game. I’ll be the only one in the crowd who knows how wide you open your legs to get fingered.”

She moaned into their next frenzied kiss, before breaking away. Looking him in the eyes with glassy brown ones, her lips plump

from being mauled. “Wait until you see how wide I’ll open them when you fuck me.”

Robbie couldn’t remember a time in his life when he’d gasped. Like gasped out loud . But he did in that moment, because he almost busted. Had to slip his fingers out of her perfect heat and grab the headboard,

bearing down on his lower body so he wouldn’t finish on her thigh. He was that turned on by her pouty challenge—and that was

it for his control. No more waiting and no fucking finesse.

He suctioned her lips with his own and pumped his cock home, muffling her cry with his mouth, gritting his teeth, and going

still when he found her tighter than expected. Oh. Oh my... God. Motherfucker , that wet grip and clench she surrounded him with defied words. And then she rocked and whined, as if he felt good, but maybe

too big, too deep too soon and his control nearly slipped then and there, because she was ringing his cock just by breathing.

With every little shift or movement. So good.

“Are you okay?” he choked out.

“Yes. Yesyesyes. ”

“Thank you, God. I need to...” Robbie drew back and dropped his hips again, digging his feet into the mattress to leverage

himself and get extra deep. He couldn’t get deep enough and yet the way she fit him was almost excruciating in its perfection.

She was already snug, but she pulsed on top of that, milking his inches in a rhythm he’d feel in his bones for the foreseeable

future. “I should flip you over and spank you for being so fucking tight. My God . I could come without moving.”

“Move, though,” Skylar whined. “Move.”

“Okay, baby,” he gritted out, easing into his typical starting pattern. Two pumps and a grind. Two... grind. Two what?

The pattern dissolved along with any rational thoughts. His hips took over. There was no rehearsal for this girl; she was

the only experience of her kind, gutting him with lifts of her hips, the brightening of awe in her eyes at how good it felt.

Yeah, he didn’t even have to ask—what was happening between them was unquestionable. The best they’d ever have. The best,

period. “You’ve got me locked in here so good, you fucking angel.” His stomach muscles started to seize up, one by one. “Might

need you to ride me for a little while so I don’t blow.”

This girl practically threw Robbie onto his back without ceasing their breakneck pace, her hips on fire, hands planted on

his chest, tits bobbing while she worked the drenched suction of her pussy up and down his length, giving no quarter. No time

to breathe or recuperate or savor the mind-blowing sensations. His only option was to reach up and grip the slats of the headboard

and watch the girl of his dreams buck her hips, sweat forming on her beautiful body, her breath beginning to hitch.

“I’m coming, Robbie.” Skylar leaned forward, digging her nails into his shoulders and grinding—oh shit, grinding on his dick

and contracting so swiftly, so repeatedly, his back arched off the bed. “You made me come. You make me come.”

Now the girl was on her back again and he had no memory of putting her there. Only that her thighs were flat to the bed, her

knees pointing at opposite walls and she was encouraging him by saying things like that’s it, baby, leave a mark in his ear.

Use it. Use me. And he was now a fucking bull in a China shop, grunting into sloppy sucks of her neck, his lower body moving at a demon’s pace, flesh smacking flesh, the bed creaking beneath them, as if he could worry about something so inconsequential when he was seconds from letting go.

This place, with Skylar, where he felt like his authentic self, giving up a part of himself because she was the right person, the only person, to trust himself with.

“Skylar,” he said, gravity in those syllables, his body falling onto her like a beggar, gathering her close and rubbing his

open mouth over her hair, across her forehead, moving on total and complete autopilot. “I’m in trouble, baby. I’m in so much

trouble over you.”

“It’s okay,” she whimpered. “We’ll make it okay.”

“ Please. ” Robbie choked on that word as he erupted, the release starting in the soles of his motherfucking feet and rocketing up to

his groin, the pleasure so intense he yelled into the next kiss, his lower body rolling furiously, trying to get free of the

pain, and it only subsided when she wrapped her arms around him and started planting kisses in random spots on his face, throat,

and shoulders, as if she needed to do more when her cunt was seized up, throttling his body and his heart and everything that

made him up. “Please, please, please,” he kept chanting while the headboard cracked off the wall, no idea what he was begging

for, only that she was the only one who knew how to give it to him.

And finally, he collapsed, a human in the form of vapor, no idea if he’d ever move again. But even in his replete—and frankly,

love-drunk—state, the irony wasn’t lost on him. He’d set out to teach her how to attract and keep a man, but she’d ended up

teaching him about himself, instead. What he valued most. Who he wanted to be.

Where he wanted to be and with whom.

The answer to that had been obvious this morning, but now?

Now he had hope. A potential chance.

He wasn’t going to squander it.