“Fuck, Pen.” A groan escapes him as his hand moves faster over his shaft. “Why’re you not here right now? Why am I in Arizona instead of in your bed?” “Because you’re the best goddamn catcher Foltyn has had in years. And because if I was there right now...” I trail off, swallowing. “I don’t think I could stop myself from railing you into the goddamn tile wall of that shower.” “I want that,” he pants, his head lulling back against the wall with his eyes closed. “I want that.”
