Wild Pitch (Daytona Fury, #1)

by C.L. Rose

The Fury’s mascot is supposed to be a dragon. But Friggle? Not a fucking clue.

Poor kid just got his ass beat on national television with nothing to defend himself with except his four-foot flappy arms.

“Oh, shut the fuck up, Valentine. You have a two-point-seven ERA. You have a hundred and one mile-an-hour fastball. If you fuck me out of another World Series this year, you won’t have to worry about the fans because I’ll cut your fucking brake lines myself.”

“How does you beating up that long-armed monstrosity have anything to do with me?”

Something about the fact that he was making perfect sense didn’t sit right with me.

understandable

Either I’ll help Riggs get out of trouble with his team and return home quickly, or I’ll kill the stupid motherfucker and flee the state of Florida without a trace. Both are possible honestly.

Please don’t kill him. I’m not in his will yet.

I have perfect vision, and she seems to get more beautiful every time I blink.

Damn it. This guy is as slutty as they come.

I’ve been noticing how thoughtful he is since I’ve been here. Just another reason he pisses me off.

been there sis

If you aren’t feeling better this morning, stay in bed. I don’t want you leaving unless you’re back to your snarky, sarcastic, radiant self. Take the ibuprofen, eat the chocolate, and I’ll rub your tummy…and any other parts of you that you ask me to…later tonight.

At this point, the next person who disrespects Riggs in front of me is catching these hands—billionaire or not.

“Ooh, I love that trope,” he says, catching me off guard. I raise an eyebrow in question. “My wife listens to smutty audiobooks while she drives. One accidentally started playing through her Bluetooth one day when I was in the car with her, and I’ve been hooked ever since.”

“Best friend’s brother with a little forced proximity?” he says before kissing the tips of his fingers like a chef.

I swallow thickly as the butterflies return, flapping around like lovesick morons at the thought of him.

me falling in love

Fuck, she’s hot. She’s perfection. Wait, I know those tits.

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

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

So what if they all think I’m whipped? I know I’m not. I probably won’t even text her when I get back tonight. I’m a fucking liar. I’m definitely texting her.

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

“Then we’d never make any profit. You may as well just flush money down the toilet at that point. I’ll make sure to tell you what bridge I’ll be living under when I lose everything I own, so you can come visit me.”

“Monroe, that language isn’t very ladylike. I raised you better than that.” “Actually,” I reply smugly, “you didn’t. They’re bitches. Every last one of them can eat my ass.”

“Can I trust you to place the pepperoni evenly?” He scoffs. “What do you take me for? Some kind of degenerate?”

“Taylor just called and said they do it every year. It’s this big competition between all the wives and girlfriends of the players. Whoever’s basket goes for the most money gets bragging rights for the whole year. I’m not letting those bitches beat me, Riggs! I have to win!”

I take my time plating some eggs and bacon, adding a little extra salt and pepper because no matter how much Monroe has been telling me I need to chill on the sodium, she’ll have to pry these shakers from my cold, dead fingers.

I love the way you look in my clothes. I love the way you look in my house. You make me want more.

“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.”

“This is my shirt,” I say, slightly confused. “My used shirt.” “Uhhh, yeah. Your used Bella Simon concert tee. These things were going for like, eight-hundred dollars on the internet at one point. Why do you even have this?” she asks, tilting her head in question. “First of all,” I say, “I don’t love your judgmental tone. Bella Simon is the voice of our generation. And don’t even get me started on her songwriting. Plus, she’s my sister’s friend. I wanted to be supportive.”

This girl is a literal storm, and I couldn’t be happier to be standing in the middle of it.

She makes me want to be someone that this organization can be proud of. That she can be proud of.

“Did you see the looks on their faces?” I say on a laugh as we walk down the hall toward Riggs’ condo. “Not only did my basket make the most money, but it wasn’t even close.” “Trust me, Monroe. Nobody was more shocked than me that someone bought my half-empty bottle of mouthwash and a to-do list that’s been sitting in the kitchen drawer since my rookie year,”

“What a beautiful mess you made, Mayhem,” he says. “I’ve never seen anything prettier than you when you come.”

I can’t tell her I’d get on my knees and beg for a shot if I thought she’d say yes. That I’ve stolen glances every chance I could get when we’ve crossed paths in Hope Harbor, and she’s taken my breath away on several occasions. That the only reason I even touched anyone else after her was to erase the memory of how she felt, knowing I’d never have her again.

Well, shit. Listen to the mouth on this one.

“Shut the fuck up and take this cunt like a good boy.” Gone. Dead. Good-fucking-bye.

Jesus Tapdancing Christ, this man’s mouth is lethal.

“You know it makes me hard when you fight back, Mayhem,” he growls, gripping even harder with his hands as I maintain eye contact with the poor soul who’s literally just trying to do his job. I internally beg the floor to open up and swallow me whole, but obviously, it doesn’t.

“Have a seat, Mayhem,” he says, motioning toward the armchair near the window. “Tell me how to fuck shit up on Instagram.”

“Eighteen hundred and ninety-six days went by that I didn’t get a chance to tell her I loved her. Don’t make the same fucking mistake I did, man. You’ll never get that time back.”

“You’re lucky I have neighbors, otherwise I’d beat your ass right here,” he grits out. “If you ever try contacting Monroe again, I’ll fucking kill you. I promise that nobody would miss your sorry ass—least of all, this angel of a woman you don’t fucking deserve,”

“They told you that you weren’t pretty enough, but you’re the most breathtaking creature I’ve ever seen.”

“I love you, Monroe Decker,” he says quietly. “And I’ll spend the rest of my life reminding you how fucking special you are.”

“You’ll submit to me and let me take what I need in this room. But out there, in the world? You’re my fucking queen. I’ll fall at your feet and give you everything. You’ll never have to question how loved you are, because I’ll remind you every day that you own me.”

I either bite my nails, or I heave this remote through the screen. This is a financial decision.

Last time, I was running from something. This time, I’m running to it.

“There’s no fucking way I’m doing anything with that long-armed dildo. I’d rather take a cleat to the nuts than trade friendship bracelets with him. As a matter of fact, he should be apologizing to me. I only reacted to him booing me in front of everyone.”

“You’re a fucking she-devil, you know that? You’re preying on a weak, innocent man here. How do you even sleep at night?”

“I’ll do it. But if he tries to hug me, he’s getting knocked the fuck out again.”

“Why didn’t you lead with that, baby? I’ve been dying to use your body for all kinds of depraved things,”

“First of all, stop objectifying me, you pervert. Secondly, the only baseball butt you better be looking at is mine.”