Chapter 4

There’s nothing like a largemouth on my rod.

-Fishing t-shirt

Hancock

So, I wasn’t the most stable of men in the world.

Call me a hothead. I didn’t give a fuck.

You fuck with my pitcher. You fuck with me. Simple as that.

“Watch your face when he comes after me,” Gentry laughed. “Seriously, just look at it.”

I did.

Gentry threw the first pitch, and nearly hit Crouse.

Crouse ducks, tosses Gentry a glare, and then readies for the next pitch.

Gentry, obviously not in the fucking around mood tonight, throws the pitch again.

And hits him.

Like he’d been intending to do the first time.

Not that we’d ever admit to that.

But Crouse was a fucking douchebag.

He never let you forget that he thought he was the superior catcher, even when he wasn’t.

That, of course, was a good trait to have. At times.

When you were at bat, and talking shit to the other team’s catcher, wasn’t one of those times.

Before Crouse could even make it to Gentry, though, I was tackling him from behind.

The other man on second base, Diaz, headed for Gentry. Something that I hadn’t seen at the time, due to the fact that I was busy beating the shit out of Crouse.

Diaz came at Gentry like a fucking battering ram, but Gentry caught him with a hooked arm around his neck, brought him down into a headlock, and proceeded to beat the shit out of him in return.

I’d just gotten Crouse on the ground underneath me when I got slammed from behind, my breath leaving me in whoosh.

It took ten minutes for the field to be fully cleared.

***

“Yo,” someone snapped.

Sinclair, the other trainer who I didn’t like, came up to me and started to touch me.

I immediately shook my head at him.

“Where’s Sway? I asked. “You need to go check on second string.”

Sinclair’s jaw worked.

“Sway is currently being reprimanded,” Sinclair’s grin wasn’t obvious, but I could read into his words.

“For what?” I barked.

“For entering the fight,” he replied jovially. “You sure you don’t need me?”

A shake of my head had him moving to the other men across the room, and I turned to glare at Gentry.

“She didn’t enter that fight,” I told him.

“How do you know?” he asked, leaning back in his ice bath.

I stood up and grabbed the towel next to my ice bath, and stepped out.

Once it was around my hips, I went in search of Sway, finding her in the coach’s office.

“I didn’t enter the fight, Coach,” she was saying as I walked up. “I was in the dugout the entire time.”

“That wasn’t what Sinclair informed me,” Coach Siggy replied. “I know you’re protective of the boys, but we can’t have personnel entering the fight, when we need them to set us straight after.”

Coach Siggy was sporting his own shiner, and I wanted to laugh at the irony of the situation.

“She was in the dugout the entire time,” I told coach. “Sinclair was mistaken.”

“And how would you know?” Coach asked me.

I held up my bandaged arm.

“She wrapped this for me,” I told him. “When I went looking for her, I found her biting her fingernails in the mouth of the dugout.”

Coach Siggy sighed.

“You know I can’t give you any special treatment here, darlin’.” he said to her. “Keep your head up and your nose clean.”

Sway smiled at Coach Siggy, and a rare smile crossed his face before disappearing again.

“How’s my brother doing?” he asked.

Sway grinned.

“The last I checked in, he was winning his fantasy league and was extremely excited about it,” she explained.

Coach snorted.

“Get out of here, girl. I’m sure you have a room full of men to take care of right now,” he pointed to the door.

That’s when Sway finally looked at me, and her eyes bugged out.

“Yes, Uncle Siggy,” she whispered.

When she went to move past me, I turned to the side and barely stifled a groan when she passed.

Her sweet, tempting ass passed over my crotch so deliciously that I nearly moaned in delight.

It took everything I had not to grab a hold of her supple flesh and bend her over the coach’s desk.

And now that I knew they were related, it might not be such a good idea to follow through with those thoughts.

“’Scuse me,” she muttered, tossing me an apologetic look.

I gritted my teeth, and her eyes went down to my cock, which a second ago hadn’t been nearly as hard as it was right now.

“You’re excused,” I lied through my teeth.

She smiled timidly, then raced off, her delicious breasts bouncing as she went.

Sweet Jesus. The way her ass swayed with each step had my mouth salivating.

When she was no longer in sight, I turned back to the coach to have him staring at me accusingly.

“Keep yours paws off my niece,” he growled at me.

I held my hands up in the air.

“I would never.”

He looked at my hands, moved to my face, and then went further down to the towel.

“Sure you wouldn’t,” he grumbled. “Get the fuck out.”

Needless to say, I got the fuck out.

Then went straight to a certain someone.

I had a few aches and pains that needed to be seen to.

***

I laid down flat on the bench and stretched my legs out in front of me.

My head rested on the flat padded pillow while my feet hung off the bottom.

“What can I do for you today, Mr. Peters?” Sway’s gentle voice cut into my thoughts.

I opened my eyes and nearly groaned.

Today she was wearing her jersey.

Usually, by this time in my evening, I was about two beers in, staring out over the lake with my feet kicked up on the balcony.

I lived off of Caddo Lake. My house was right off the water.

In fact, I was about as far out into the lake as I could be without having an actual houseboat.

Why I was here instead of at my place was beyond me, but I was here. I was horny. And I wanted Sway to come home with me.

Which might be the reason I was here acting like I was hurt and not at home with my beer.

“My leg feels like it’s being stabbed,” I pointed to my thigh where I’d caught a knee just below my groin.

She frowned and looked at it.

“Does it throb, or is it more of a constant sharp pain?” she asked. “Do you mind if I touch you?”

I shook my head, indicating my leg with my nod. “Feel free to touch all you want,” I murmured. “As for the pain, it’s more of a sharp pain.”

My dick, however, was throbbing.

Thank fuck for my compression shorts I had on underneath my knit shorts that I’d changed into once I’d left coach’s office.

“Did the ice bath help?” she questioned, placing her hand on my thigh.

My gut clenched in reaction to her hand being on my body, even if two articles of my clothing separated us.

“It did,” I nodded my head. “But now that I’m not in there anymore, it’s aching a lot more.”

I wasn’t talking about my leg at this point.

No, we were in dick territory now, and I wasn’t quite sure how to extricate myself from the situation I found myself in.

I was already covering up my dick with my hand.

There was absolutely no way that she would miss it if I stood up.

“Show me where it hurts,” she held out her hand for me to take.

Coach’s niece. Coach’s niece. Coach’s niece.

I chanted the words as she felt me up.

I reluctantly took her hand, and I had to clear my throat to cover the groan at the feel of her hand in mine.

It was so soft, and it would feel perfect wrapped around my cock.

“Listen,” I started to sit up. “I forgot I had to tell Coach something…”

She rolled her eyes and pushed me back down when I went to sit up.

“You’re not moving until I inspect this sore spot.”

And she did just that.

Twenty minutes and a fucking massage on the inside of my thigh later, and I was practically sprinting to my truck.