Page 73 of Playboy Pitcher

She’d let me do anything to her. Face fuck her. Gag her. Come in her mouth. Not because she gives a shit about me, but to gain exclusive entry into the “I blew Big Ben” fan club.

I’d rather jerk a callous into my own hand.

I press my palm to the small of her back and steer her toward the bar. “Drink first. It’s been a long night, Kelly.”

“Kenly.”

“Oh, you want to bring a friend?” I shrug and pull out two barstools. “Why the hell not?”

Fifteen minutes and two shots of tequila later, Kallie is starting to piss me off. I thought plying her with alcohol would chill her out, but instead it caused her to grow fucking tentacles. All eight of which keep trying to grab my dick right here at the bar.

A week ago, it would’ve been hard as a rock for her.

A week ago, I didn’t know Willow McBaine.

Every few minutes I sneak a glance at her. She hasn’t moved from the table where I left her. She watches, detached and aloof, as the blonde tries to climb into my lap. Every so often, we pass heated looks back and forth, a thousand words tucked into that one brief moment.

None of them are pleasant.

Kassie pushes a full shot glass away, sloshing perfectly good liquor all over the bar. “I don’t want any more tequila,” she pouts.Good. More for me.However, my body goes rigid as she leans forward and slides both palms up my thighs. “But I’ll show you what Iwillswallow, Playboy.”

Nope. That’s the end of the line for you, honey.

Grabbing her wrists, I push her away. “Look, Katie, you’re a nice…” I pause, searching for an appropriate adjective. “You’re a friendly girl, but—what the fuck?” Out of the corner of my eye, I catch a flash of a dark buzzcut as someone slides into the chair next to Willow.

Cruz Serrano.

My first baseman. My friend. My teammate.

Every muscle in my body tenses to the point of snapping. Kiki keeps yapping about something, but all I hear is white noise as Willow bites her lip and smiles at him.

She fuckingsmiles.

I shouldn’t care.One night.We have no claim on each other. That piece of paper means nothing. Right? Then why does my chest feel like it’s being crushed under an eighteen-wheeler?

The closer they get, the less I can breathe.

My girl and my friend.

My wife and my teammate.

Don’t react.

But the moment he tucks her hair behind her ears, primal instinct already has me out of my chair and across the bar. I don’t think as I grab Serrano’s arm and wrench it to the side like a crank. “Walk away,” I bite out between clenched teeth.

Willow leaps to her feet. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Me?” I growl, releasing Serrano as she bows up to me. “What the hell do you thinkyou’redoing?”

“Socializing.” Glancing toward the bar, she smirks. “Same as you.”

Serrano stands, chuckling to himself as he watches us in amusement. “Told you,” he says, giving Willow a knowing wink. “Take it easy, boss lady.”

I watch him return to the bar, then turn toward Willow. “What the hell was that?”

“Nothing,” she mutters, waving a hand.

Nothing? She thinks that’s nothing? Me passing up a chance to kick his asshole halfway up his throat, now that’snothing.