Scoring With Him (Men of Summer, #1)

by Lauren Blakely

I don’t see the point in being all secretive and shit about who you are. It takes you long enough to figure it out sometimes, but once you do, there’s no reason to hide it.

I’m human. I need connection now and then. And every once in a while, I need some intimacy.

“I’m already jealous of the possibility of you fucking someone else,” he says, a plain admission that scorches me.

Declan’s jealousy sets me on fire. Every square inch of me burns for him. “You are?” “I am.” His voice is smoke in the desert night. “And what you said this morning?” he prompts, like I didn’t remember it perfectly. “Yeah?” I ask, letting him lead this conversation wherever he’s taking it. “Grant,” he says, his tone shifting, full of vulnerability and heat. “It’s driving me absolutely crazy.”

He’s the sexiest man I’ve ever met, and it’s not just his body, his face, or his eyes. It’s . . . him. Who he is. How he is.

And now I know my knee is an erogenous zone, and Grant Blackwood has claimed it as his own territory.

“I’m vers, rookie. All the way.”

“Fuck it.” I inch closer, lick my lips. “Kiss me, rookie.” He smiles. “Hell, yes.”

The sound of it makes it clear baseball is way more than a career for him—it’s a reinvention of his soul.

He’s doing it again. Turning me on, breaking me down, making me ache for him. I ache everywhere.