Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 25708 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 129(@200wpm)___ 103(@250wpm)___ 86(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 25708 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 129(@200wpm)___ 103(@250wpm)___ 86(@300wpm)
I can’t wait to live every single depraved second of it.
EPILOGUE
Scout
Five Years Later
My eyes are trained on the television screen, on which my husband is playing in game two of the World Series. The voices of the commentators fill the dark hotel room. The only other sound is my measured breathing, in and out. In and out. Cash’s face comes up on the screen and I make an eager noise, my knees pressing together, my wrists pulling on the bonds that attach me to the bed. I writhe my naked body in the sheets, imagining what he’ll do to me when the game is over. When he returns.
After Cash was drafted, I left school to go on the road with him. Of course, there were a lot of objections from my brother and parents, but there was no other solution. We can’t be away from each other. Even now, as I watch his jaw grind on the screen, I know he’s thinking of me. I know he’s counting the minutes until we’re together again. To the untrained observer, that wild flame dancing in his eyes would look like competitive spirit, but I know better. He’s on the verge of madness from not being able to touch and smell me.
“I love you, I love you, I love you,” I whisper, arching my back in the Egyptian cotton sheets, the cool air causing my nipples to stiffen, the flesh between my legs growing wet in anticipation. Ninth inning.
One more out and Cash can leave. Honestly, he’s done more than enough on the field today to earn them the win. He’s a future hall of famer, my husband. He’s driven and talented and there isn’t a pitcher in the league that wants to face him from the mound. I get keyed up watching him play—and he knows it. It’s one of the reasons I’m tied to this bed right now.
The other reason is simple. I’m his. He does what he needs to do with me to stay sane. And that includes bringing me on the road, keeping me hidden away in various luxurious hotel rooms, tied up, waiting for him to come home and ransack my body.
The pitcher on our team throws the final out and my breath immediately begins to grow thin, my breasts heaving up and down in the television light. I’m an addict for my husband and it has been six hours since he was inside of me. I’m aching and growing more delirious with need by the second. On the screen, I watch Cash leave the field. He’s the first one off. He won’t stick around to do press or listen to post-game talks with the coach. He won’t even shower. He’ll grab his things and drive back to me, his withdrawals equally as bad as mine.
These accommodations were part of his contract when he signed with his current team. We’re a package deal, me and Cash. I travel with him to every city, though we travel separate from the rest of the team, because he can’t stand his teammates looking at me. Nor can he keep his hands off me long enough to take a flight. We learned that the hard way the first time I traveled with the team on their private plane and Cash took me up against the bathroom door, my moans carrying all the way to the cockpit.
I slither my body in the expensive sheets, enjoying the pain of the bonds around my wrists, picturing Cash as he’ll appear in the doorway, sweaty, still wearing his uniform, his erection curving the front of his white pants. I can’t wait for the season to be over so we can spend some time at home. I’ll garden and read and walk on the beach—and Cash will watch me do all of those things. He’s always watching.
My head turns to the left so I can smile for the camera, preening and stretching out to tempt him, knowing Cash is watching me on the screen of his phone.
Is our behavior sick? Is our addiction to one another healthy?
A lot of people would say no.
And we’d agree with them. It’s why we decided against having children. Before we were even married, Cash admitted he liked the idea of getting me pregnant, but he hated the idea of me having to remain home with a baby while he went on the road. Having to share me. Not being able to have access to me at the drop of a hat. I didn’t want any of those things, either. I only need him. Wolfishly. Therefore, our family will always remain at two and I couldn’t be happier with that decision. It’s the responsible one, considering who we are.
How we…engage. Like animals.
I lie in the stillness and count my breaths, needing Cash to come put me out of my misery. It’s agony without the weight of him pressing me down, anchoring me. Without his body on mine, I feel insubstantial, like I could float up through the ceiling and out to the sky.