My First and Only Crush

by Chloe Maine

Ankles, Trick? Really? My mouth waters. Yes, her fucking ankles. I’ll lick her there as I hook them over my shoulders, and keep licking until I find her sweet, breedable pussy.

It’s always been baseball for me. So who the fuck is this girl, and why do I want to drag her into the nearest alcove and bury my cock between those lush little

legs? Breed her our very first time, to make up for lost years. Get started on that family I thought might one day happen.

Daddy wants to be licked almost as much as he wants to do some licking.

But I would know if I’d already met the woman I’m meant to claim as my own, right?

I’m in love with a girl who doesn’t even want to get text messages from me.

I want to kiss her like I want to fuck her, with everything I have. A bull finally let loose in a sunny pasture.

because all it took was a single, haunting glance and I knew she was the only girl I’d ever want.

Happy birthday, Sinclaire. I’m gonna win you the World Series tonight. Then I’m going to track you down and find out how to make you less sad.

And that man is my entire world, not that he knows it.

Trick Lowry will never know just how much I love him, but that doesn’t matter in this moment. I’ll know I did this for him. I did it the last round, too, just in case that was his last win, because I have a sneaking suspicion he’s retiring this year.

But her absence is ten times worse. It drove me through the season, to this moment, and on the other side of tonight, I’ll be free to hunt her down and make her mine if she’s willing. And if she’s not, I’m taking vows and becoming a priest.

scuffed-up cowboy boots I’d like to see kicked over my shoulders.

The noise in the hallway fades into the distance as Sinclaire lifts her head, the brim of her hat revealing her face for a fleeting second. And it’s really her. My perfect Sin. She’s here.

I got myself off twice this morning looking at blurry reflections of fingers. Alone with the most off-limits woman in my life? I could do much, much worse.

When it comes to her, my instincts are one hundred percent wrong.

“I want a present first.” Anything.

It’s not a kiss that she asks for, to my shameful disappointment.

I catch her hands and pry them off my body, every nerve firing under my skin, howling in protest at the loss of her touch. Her wrists feel so fucking good manacled in my fingers.

The words slide out of her on a breathy little whisper, and they’re followed by a thud, because I’ve backed her up against the concrete block wall. Now we’re protected from the crowd. But who’s going to protect Sin from me?

Even if I secretly like his concern for me, I’d like more adult attention, too, and I’m never going to get it, so I won’t feel bad for having a vibrant fantasy zinging around my head as he braces one arm above me and leans in even closer.

“You don’t have to be nervous,” he mutters. “I’m not nervous.” “Then is my texting game that bad?” “I—” “Did it ever occur to you that I’m just a big dumb jock who gets tongue-tied?”

“Trust me, I’m well aware that you’re not a child. And I’m only trying to protect you from myself.”

Stroking one out to the thought of fucking your daughter against a concrete wall.

I need privacy with my cock and a fantasy of fucking Sin into the next century while she calls me Daddy. Maybe my hand squeezed around her throat, making her desperate to come before she passes out. Something truly twisted to make a clear distinction between real life and my secret desires.

Once upon a time, it was my social anxiety. This past year, it’s been my obsession with her.

My brain substitutes that pressure for a mental picture of her tight, off-limits cunt grinding against me in the shadows of that alcove as I praise her for being Papa’s pet, such a good girl…

I grunt. He means in the off-season. Unloading a playoff’s worth of seed into your daughter’s bare little pussy is the wrong answer.

Like moving to Sinclaire’s college town in California, just to be nearby. In case she needs anything. Or in case I need a secret hit of her sunshiny laugh. I can see myself hulking behind the library stacks like a pervert. So, Jeff, I’m actually thinking of stalking your daughter in my retirement.

But as I lean over and pick up her panties, I can’t help but growl, “Okay, little mouse. Where are you hiding?” Not a peep. I prowl into the room. “Come out, come out, wherever you are.”

“I told you to leave because I didn’t want anyone else looking at you.” Silence falls again. He groans. “Fuck, Sinclaire. I shouldn’t look at you, either.”

He grunts. “Didn’t say I didn’t like it. You can stare all you want. I told you, this is a safe space for you.”

Then he braces one hand on the bed and leans the rest of the way down, bringing his mouth close to my ear. “I know why you’re wearing my jersey, little mouse. And you aren’t the only one who’s filing things away in a spank bank.”

Sinclaire has no clue what really goes through my head when I look at her. I need to warn her more clearly. I need to show her exactly who I am. She thinks she’s a grown up now? Then it’s time for us to share grown-up secrets.

Her breath pants in warm, shallow little bursts next to my cheek as I reveal parts of myself I assumed would forever stay locked tight. “I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing, pet. But I am a man who picks your panties up off the floor and breathes in the perfect, innocent scent of your off-limits cunt before I start hunting you down. Are you sure you want to spend the night in my room? Celebrate with me?”

Clearly, I haven’t shown her enough of me, then. “There’s only one reason why a young woman gets naked in an older man’s hotel room. You doing that, and then putting on my jersey? Rifling through my stuff, looking for something that smells like me? You were horny. That’s why you’re wearing my jersey. And maybe I interrupted your play, and that’s why you want some champagne. Yes?”

“You don’t need to lie, little mouse. Tell Daddy the truth.”

“Did you touch yourself right here on my bed?”

I trail my fingers up her soft, bare thigh, stopping just short of her panties. She moans. My heart squeezes so hard at the sweetness of that sound. One I don’t deserve, one I won’t hear again.

Part me wants to say fuck it, and just be whoever she wants tonight. I will keep all of her secrets, forever, no matter what. But I can’t let her give herself to me without knowing who I truly am. She needs to know that from the moment she skipped back into my life, I’ve been obsessed with her. It’s like she’s a completely different person. Not the little girl I once knew. Not my friend’s daughter. But a vision and a temptation I can’t get out of my mind. So instead of softening my voice and making her moan again, I move my hand up to press against her stolen jersey—and her quivering belly beneath it. “Did you wrap yourse...

A wild possessiveness surges through me. I want to be the only man to ever know that pleasure.

“Take off my jersey.” It comes out as a harsh order. Good. Let her think that I’m bossy and demanding, rather than knowing the truth, that I would fall on my knees and beg her to show me her secrets.

Now it’s my turn to lick my lips. “Not fully. I gave you back your panties. Made you cover up that hot little cunt because it was too tempting for me.”

“I told you,” I rasp. “If you want a sip of champagne, you have to take off the jersey. I want to see your ripe little tits.”

“Only every day since spring training,” I growl. “You want to know what I did first thing this morning? I stalked your Instagram account and stroked my cock. Every fucking day, Sinclaire. Okay? I want you. I want you so fucking much, and it’s a fucking miracle that you didn’t figure it out sooner. But in the morning, you won’t want this to have happened.”

“Because I’m scared by how much I want you.” “Oh.” She gives me a little, crooked smile. “Is there such a thing as wanting someone too much?” “Yes.” I swallow hard. “Why?” “It would be all consuming.” A sharp awareness flashes in her eyes. “Ah.” She inhales and nods. “Can we maybe just have tonight, then?” And before I can stop her—no, we can’t just have one night, I need so much more than that, I need forever—she

She passes the bottle back, but I don’t want to drink from it again. I want to drink from her. I set it down, then push the jersey off her shoulders. She stands on the bed in front of me like a nude goddess who should be out of reach, but through some miracle of circumstances, is right there. I just have to grab her. But if I lay hands on her again, I’m never letting go.

“Tell me what you need.” He’s panting, too. He cradles me in his arms as he rolls onto his back, pulling me on top of him. Both of his hands come to my chest now, and he makes a low, unholy sound as he cups my tits together. “You like my touches here?”

He grins and tugs on my nipples. “You’re on top now, Sin. If you want to kiss, come down here and take it.”

His hands tighten on my breasts, going from a confident, teasing pinch and pull on my nipples to a rough, possessive squeeze of my entire flesh. “Jesus, Sin, don’t say things like that.”