Page 132 of Just for the Plot

“Fucking perfect,” is all he says as he snaps his book shut and then gently lifts me up before he stands from the couch.

He’s leaving again?

He must see the confusion in my eyes, because he smirks down at me, and then once again brings his fingers to his mouth, where he sucks them for a second longer before he says, “Tastes like fucking joy.”

Then with a wink, he heads toward the door and I don’t know what possesses me, but I hop off the couch and head toward him, blurting out, “You’re just going to leave?”

“Have to get to the stadium but going to need to take care of some business beforehand.” He glances down at his lap, where his cock is pressing so incredibly hard against his jeans that my mouth waters. “Catch you later, beautiful.”

And then with that, he’s gone.

CHAPTER 23

BENNETT

“Why the smile?” Nolan asksas he sits next to me while Asher warms up in the cages. I’m next, so I put my batting gloves on and get ready.

“Am I smiling?”

“Big time,” Nolan says as he pulls a toothpick from his pocket and places it in his mouth.

“Didn’t think I was,” I say as I feel my cheeks stretch, a smile most definitely on my face.

“You’re still doing it. You’re smiling.”

“Can’t I smile while watching Asher hit?”

Asher doesn’t even glance at me when he says, “No,” in his gruff, take-no-prisoners voice.

“See, you’re making the scary man uncomfortable.” Nolan gestures to him. “So either cut the smile or tell me why the hell you look like a goddamn clown.”

Keeping my voice down, I say, “Things might have gone a little further with Bower.”

He slaps his hand to my chest and shouts, “Shut the fuck up. Did you bang her?”

“Dude.”

“Can you two fucking leave?” Asher asks, looking like he’s ready to shove his bat up our asses.

“Sorry,” I say and then get up and head to the hallway, Nolan remainingwhere he is and crossing one leg over the other, playing with the toothpick in his mouth.

“What the fuck, man?” I ask, hands spread.

“Do you want me to come with you?”

“Why else do you think I got up?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugs. “Bathroom?”

“Get the fuck out of here,” Asher shouts, gripping his bat intentionally, like he’s going to snap it in half over Nolan’s head.

“Jesus,” Nolan says, getting up. “Get laid, man.”

Then he joins me in the hallway and leans against the wall. “He’s such a dick. You shouldn’t let him push you around like that.”

“I’m giving him space.”

“He doesn’t need space; the dude needs friends.” Whispering, Nolan says, “Can’t trust guys with no friends, like what the fuck does he do with his spare time? Work out? Have you seen his forearms? They’re like fucking bazookas.”