Wild Pitch (Daytona Fury, #1)

by C.L. Rose

I can’t see how stunning she is. I have perfect vision, and she seems to get more beautiful every time I blink.

“My dumb lie got us into this mess! What if they ask questions about our relationship and the word-vomit just starts coming out? I can’t be trusted, Monroe! I’m a liability!”

“Look at me, Riggs.” As soon as she says it, I bring my eyes up to hers, and even though she looks annoyed with me, it’s calming. My heart rate slows, and I take a deep breath in through my nose, exhaling through my mouth as her gaze stays on mine.

I can’t stop staring at where we’re connected. Even though I touched this woman on almost every inch of her body that night, for some reason, holding her hand feels more intimate than any of that.

“I’m Monroe Decker, Riggs’ girlfriend.”

“She is,” I reply, unable to take my eyes off her. “I think I’ll keep her.”

“It was a whirlwind at first, but he ended up winning me over. Now I can’t imagine my life without him,” I say, glancing over my shoulder at the table where he’s talking to his teammates. It’s not a complete lie. Our night together was definitely a whirlwind. So what if the events that have happened since aren’t exactly the stuff of fairytales? Fake it till you make it, right?

The woman next to me—Sasha, I think her name is—scoffs quietly. I slide my eyes over in her direction, narrowing them slightly because what the fuck is this bitch’s problem?

“That man over there,” I say, lifting my chin back to the table where he sits, “is amazing. He’s selfless, loving, and would give the shirt off his back to anyone in need. It’s a shame you’re too bitter and spiteful to see it.” I turn to the others. “It was nice meeting you all. I should get back to my date now.”

Without even giving it a second thought, I put one hand on the back of his chair, lean down and press my lips against his. I’m sure they’re all still watching, so I put on a show, using my tongue to trace his plump lower lip until he opens for me. His hand ghosts over my waist as we kiss, and just that simple touch is a reminder of the way he made me feel two years ago.

He swallows thickly, nodding before grabbing my wrist and pulling me down into his lap. I can feel his thick cock pressing up against the back of my thigh. I try not to act surprised, but can’t help the wetness that begins to gather in my panties, knowing that one kiss turned him on so much. He must’ve wanted me to feel it, otherwise he would have just let me sit down in a different chair.

But I’ll be damned if I don’t make it clear to all these people that they’re lucky to have a guy like Riggs Valentine on their team.

Her eyes go wide as she grabs my arm and attempts to pull me up, but I resist. “You’re clipping your toenails in the kitchen!” she shrieks. “That’s disgusting, Riggs!”

“What are you doing?” I ask, not loving the smug expression on her face. “I’m texting your mother,” she replies. “Imagine how disappointed sweet Libby Valentine will be to know that her pride and joy is out here acting like he was raised in a barn. You’re going to break her heart, you know that, right?”

I hear the whoosh of the message being sent and I bare my teeth at her in frustration. And to think I was almost softening for her a little bit. She’s the same snarky bitch she’s been since I’ve known her. Clearly, that’ll never change.

“Riggs Sebastian Valentine, please tell me you aren’t clipping your nails at the table in the presence of a lady!” my mom yells, practically blowing out my eardrum. The woman is a saint, but if she knows we’re doing something we shouldn’t be, she’s the first to call us out. “I’m not,” I deadpan. “I’m doing it in the presence of Monroe.” The wretched creature beside me chokes on a gasp and I look up to see her jaw practically hitting the floor. Even though I’m getting yelled at by my mother, who can still manage to make me feel like a child from a thousand miles away, the shock on my fake girlfriend’s face at my response is worth all of it.

When we’re in public, I’ll make goo-goo eyes at her and tell everyone how smitten I am. But inside these walls? Not a chance.

I wanted him to be the asshole that I made him out to be in my own head so badly. But he just isn’t. I’ve seen him with family and friends, so I knew he had a caring side, but when I was the one needing help, I expected the bare minimum. When he picked me up from where I collapsed in the hallway and didn’t leave my side all night, I was shocked. Then, finding my favorite candy and a note that was equal parts snide and sweet, made my heart thump harder in my chest.

“Mayhem is the perfect nickname for you,” he quips, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and leading me down the hall. “You’ve got me acting crazy out here.”

“Your pussy is a drooling mess for me, Mayhem. It doesn’t matter if you like me. She does.”

“What a needy little slut you are, Mayhem. You say you hate me, but you open right up when I pin you down. You wanted this, didn’t you? You wanted me to lose control.”

“Tell me you’ve missed this cock so much that you’re about to slut yourself out and come all over it when we’ve barely even started.”

Because whether she likes it or not, she’s mine just as much as I’m hers.

I want her. In any way that she’ll have me. If she’ll have me.

I don’t know how this girl managed to turn me into a giddy teenager, but she did.

Monroe is a strong, independent woman and I threw her over my shoulder and fucked her like a caveman because I couldn’t stop my possessive side from taking over.

Just as I’m about to obliterate every ounce of self-respect I have left by double-texting her, my phone vibrates, lighting up the space beside me. I unlock it quickly and find a text from Monroe. Thank fuck.

She’s so fucking beautiful like this, and it’s a challenge not to say it out loud. Her long, brown hair is gathered into a bun on top of her head, with little wisps hanging down, framing her heart-shaped face. Her plump lips shine, probably with that berry flavored lip mask she keeps on the bathroom counter, and I wonder what it would taste like if I kissed her right now.

“Actually,” I reply smugly, “you didn’t. They’re bitches. Every last one of them can eat my ass.”

and my heart picks up speed at the way he’s looking at me as if none of this is fake. It doesn’t even feel fake anymore, to be honest.

I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m having an amazing time with Riggs Valentine.

I step into the closet doorway, leaning against the frame and crossing my arms over my chest. I watch her for a few seconds, unable to stop a silly smile from pulling at the corners of my lips. I'd never say it out loud, mainly because it would probably piss her off, but she's adorable like this.

Monroe is a knockout, seven days a week. But first thing in the morning, when she’s all mussed from sleeping? That’s when she’s the most beautiful. I love the way she does her makeup for a night out, but there’s something about her bare face and wild hair

“Don’t you worry about me, Val,” she says confidently. “I’m about to make the best basket any of those bitches have ever seen. They’ll be sorry they ever stepped into the ring with Monroe Decker.”

“Mhmmm,” I reply, pretending to be annoyed as I pick up my bottle of mouthwash and unscrew the top. I’ve barely taken a swig before her hand reaches back out and snags it from my grip. “Okay, byeeeee!” she sings, leaving the room with half my shit as I stare in shock. This girl is a literal storm, and I couldn’t be happier to be standing in the middle of it.

I can’t stop the cocky grin that blooms across my face as I turn and drop my mouth to her ear, speaking quietly enough so only she can hear. “I’m only a bad boy for you now, baby,”

She may be the boss here, but tonight, I’m in charge.

but I had already been ruined for everyone else. My body knew what it wanted. It still does.

“You’re fucking perfection, Monroe. Thank you for letting me be who I am with you. I’ve never let go like this with anyone else,”