Home Field Advantage Page 4

  Caleb had ended the call before Toby could respond. He stared at his phone, wondering whether this whole let’s-be-friends thing was such a good idea. Because his first reaction to the idea of Caleb calling him again tomorrow was how long it would take for him to have Caleb naked and moaning in his ear.

  Shit. He stared down at his crotch, where his dick had decided it liked that idea way too much. Sighing, he pushed himself up, grabbed his phone, and shoved it into the pocket of his gym shorts before gathering up his folded towels. Get these put away and go to bed—to sleep. No fantasizing about what you can’t have.

  He doubted any part of him would listen, but he could earn that A for effort, right?

  “Until this week, I honestly can’t remember the last time I had a hotel room to myself. Hell, in the low minors, we were stuck three or four to a room in some towns. And you try shoving four grown men into a room with two doubles and see how that works out for you.”

  “Ouch.” Toby winced at the thought and switched his phone to the other ear. “Never really thought about it, I guess. I mean, I’ve been around the big ball club all my life, and I keep up with the talent on the farm teams, but I’ve never spent much time actually around the minors.”

  He lounged against the headboard of his bed, where he’d been listening to Caleb’s low, near-exhaustion voice for almost an hour now. Not the worst Saturday night he’d ever had, he admitted to himself.

  Caleb had started tonight’s call by noting that housekeeping kept replacing the “ungodly” number of pillows on his bed every day in Denver, even though he’d stacked them neatly on the side chair, obviously unused. The conversation had wandered from there, but they’d circled back around to hotel rooms again.

  “That could be something to look into.” Toby heard rustling as Caleb shifted on the other end of the phone. “I’m not complaining, not really, but it’s hard to get by. Most players have off-season jobs, but those are tough to keep when you’re playing ball from April through September. I’ve already made more the last two weeks than I did all of last season.”

  Toby blinked. “Holy crap. I knew the pay was lousy, but that’s worse than I thought. They should do something about that.”

  A low chuckle came through the phone, sending shivers down Toby’s spine. “‘They’? Didn’t you say you’d own part of the team in another couple weeks?”

  Toby smiled slowly. “Not a majority, or anywhere close to it.”

  “But enough to give you a voice.”

  And not just about pay for minor league players, Toby thought, though he kept that to himself. While he knew Caleb was comfortable with his sexuality, they hadn’t talked about what it might mean for him to come out. Hell, they hadn’t talked about what it might mean for Toby to come out, and he wasn’t the one who then had to go out on the field and face not only opponents and fans who could be hostile for any of a number of reasons but also the potential for backlash from the people with whom he shared a uniform. And, maybe more important, a clubhouse.

  Toby shook off that train of thought. It didn’t matter now, not when there wasn’t anything to tell. Knowing Caleb would see right through him, he changed the subject anyway. “Did you hear O’Malley got suspended? You’d think these guys would figure out the steroids aren’t worth the trade-off for eighty days out of uniform.”

  After a long pause, Caleb finally spoke. “Yeah, I don’t get it. Not so much of a problem with the guys who did it back before they changed the rules. I mean, it wasn’t smart then, but it didn’t mean losing half a season.”

  Caleb went on, but Toby only half heard him, listening more to the warm, deep cadence than to his words. It should freak him out, the contentment that came just from hearing Caleb’s voice, but instead, it soothed him. He relaxed and let the sound wash over him.

  He wasn’t sure when he fell asleep, but he woke up in the wee hours with his phone still in his hand and a text from Caleb waiting for him.

  Sleep tight. Don’t let the bedbugs bite.

  Smiling, he set his phone on the nightstand, turned off the lamp, and rolled over to hug a pillow, trying not to think about what—who—he’d rather have his arms around.

  “So Damon’s cutting up and waving the bat around, and he misses taking out the Polish sausage by, like, two inches. I don’t think the guy ever even saw it, but I’m betting ESPN will have it on a highlight reel.”

  The silly-fun, between-inning races between four people wearing different sausage-based costumes in Milwaukee had been the highlights of the week for Atlanta, who’d dropped three so far in the series. They had a day game up next, and Caleb was set to start, so he should have been going to sleep—shouldn’t have called at all, really—but Toby couldn’t bring himself to hang up. They’d talked for nine of ten nights now, only missing Monday night, when the game went fourteen innings and didn’t end until nearly 2:00 a.m. Toby had still been awake, even though it had been an hour later in Atlanta, and when he’d finally dropped off around four, he’d slept only intermittently.

  Once again he’d woken up the following morning to find a text from Caleb waiting: Did you get the number of the beer truck that hit me? Damn, I’m glad the day game isn’t until Thursday.

  Now here it was, Wednesday night, and they were up late again anyway, though Caleb’s voice sounded like it was starting to slide off toward dreamland. Toby’s mind was headed the same direction, his thoughts starting to drift away.

  “Toby?”

  Caleb saying his name drew Toby’s attention back. “Hmmm?” he murmured.

  “Can I ask you something?”

  The change in the timbre of Caleb’s voice told Toby that, unlike much of their conversations had been, this was no idle question. Toby was suddenly more awake, and he swallowed, his mouth dry. “Sure.”

  “When we get in tomorrow night… can I come over?”

  Toby knew he should say no. He knew even thinking about anything but friendship with Caleb was playing with fire. But the only thing their conversations had done, rather than cementing a friendship, was make him want Caleb more. Toby’s heart took over, and there was only one thing he could say.

  “Yes.”

  I need a longer hallway.

  The absurd thought almost made Toby laugh. He paced back and forth, spinning on his heel after far too few steps, wishing for another twenty feet or two hundred yards or two miles to walk. Maybe that would have half a chance at calming his nerves.

  Caleb would arrive any minute, and Toby had no idea what to do about it. His body and his heart warred with his mind. Any kind of relationship with Caleb beyond friendship had the potential for so much damage, and Toby had no illusions that Caleb was planning just a friendly visit.

  But he’d never felt a connection like he had with Caleb, and not just the explosive sexual chemistry of that first night. He’d looked forward to their nightly chats and spent more time thinking about those than he had the feel of Caleb’s warm, smooth skin under his hands.

  His skin tingled at the sense memory. Okay, yeah, he’d thought about that too. Quite a bit, and he had the dirty sheets to prove it.

  Well, formerly dirty. They were clean now.

  Despite all his qualms, he had high hopes they wouldn’t stay that way long.

  Predictably, the knock at his door nearly made him jump out of his skin. So calm, cool, and collected, he was. Laughing at himself, Toby walked to the door, took a deep breath, and opened it.

  “Hi.” Caleb smiled at him, looking better than should be legal after playing nine innings and sitting through a three-hour flight. Toby’s last rational thought threw up its tiny hands and slunk away in defeat.

  “Hi,” Toby murmured in reply, even as he grabbed the front of Caleb’s shirt with his left hand and dragged him inside. He slammed and locked the door with his right hand, but Caleb was already kissing him by then, and Toby couldn’t spare another thought for such silly considerations as home safety.

  Toby wound his arm around Caleb’s neck,
digging his fingers into his hair, and they stumbled across the room in the general direction of the sofa. Toby almost fell over backward when he bumped into it, and he managed to tear himself away from the feast that was Caleb’s mouth.

  “Bedroom,” he said, and he redirected them down the hallway that suddenly seemed about ten times too long.

  It took them about ten times too long to make it to the bed too. They kept stopping to press each other against walls, doorframes, furniture, whatever they could find that would allow them to brace and kiss deeper, rub against each other harder. Buttons and zippers were navigated with shaking hands between grasps and moans, but when the backs of Toby’s legs hit the side of the mattress, he still had on his jeans, though they were open and sagging toward his knees. Caleb had a hand shoved down the front of Toby’s boxer briefs, working his cock toward full hardness, so Toby just kept kissing him, heedless of anything but the feel of Caleb’s touch.

  He snapped out of it about the time he bounced on the mattress, thanks to a hard shove from Caleb. Toby glared up at him, but Caleb just grinned back, lifting his eyebrows, and stripped Toby’s jeans and boxers out of the way.

  “There.” Caleb crawled onto the bed to hover on hands and knees over Toby. “This would’ve been easier if you’d just been naked when I got here.”

  Toby laughed, playfully dodging Caleb’s mouth as it tried to recapture his. “I would have, but I had this silly idea we might actually talk or something absurd like that.”

  Caleb growled and raised one hand to grasp Toby’s jaw, holding him in place. “I think we’ve done enough talking, don’t you?”

  He kissed Toby hard, tongue driving deep, stealing the breath from Toby’s lungs and every thought from his head. Toby groaned low in his chest and wrapped his legs around the backs of Caleb’s thighs, pulling himself closer to Caleb so their cocks bumped and brushed between them. The kiss went on and on as they serenaded each other with the sounds of their moans and the harsh pulls of air they managed through their noses, unwilling to break apart even for breath.

  Toby wrapped his fingers around Caleb’s asscheeks, intending to pull him closer, when a stray thought escaped the cloud of lust, making him smile into their seemingly endless kiss. Instead of yanking, he lifted one hand and brought it down sharply, the sound of the slap echoing loud in the room. Caleb gasped, finally jerking his mouth from Toby’s, and Toby just giggled and did it again.

  “What the hell?” Caleb flailed a hand back to grab Toby’s, but Toby just let him have it with the other hand. He kept up a rain of smacks, none of them particularly hard, just playful. He broke into full-out laughter as Caleb twisted and jerked above him.

  When they finally came back to rest, Caleb had his hands wrapped around Toby’s wrists, pinning them to the mattress on either side of his body, and his legs pressed against either side of Toby’s, holding them in place. Toby still shook with laughter, and Caleb was grinning like a loon, but when Caleb narrowed his eyes and said, “You’re gonna get it for that,” Toby had all of a second to brace himself before Caleb’s mouth descended onto Toby’s right nipple.

  Toby lost track of time while Caleb tortured him, sucking and nipping and licking at his nipples until both were red and throbbing, then biting his way down Toby’s abdomen to tug at Toby’s pubic hair with his teeth. Each little zing of sensation sent Toby’s arousal higher, and he writhed under Caleb’s assault, as much as he could with Caleb holding him down. And that? Only made it all hotter.

  When Caleb finally responded to the pleas that poured from Toby’s mouth and wrapped his lips around the tip of Toby’s cock, it took every ounce of willpower in Toby’s body not to come on the spot. He strained against Caleb’s grip on his wrists, but he didn’t really fight to free himself, or ask Caleb to let go. He liked it. Not in a way that meant he wanted to do it all the time, but right now, with Caleb holding him while he sucked his brains out through his dick, it was perfect.

  And then Caleb’s mouth and hands disappeared, and Toby actually heard himself whimper.

  He pried his eyes open, not even sure when he’d closed them, and what he saw when his eyes focused had him scrabbling for self-control again. Caleb had leaned back on his heels, and both hands were working as he rolled a condom down his own cock. When he finished, he looked up, and Toby caught his heated gaze.

  “Roll over,” Caleb rasped, and Toby didn’t hesitate to comply.

  Once he hit hands and knees, Caleb gave him a cursory few strokes with slicked fingers to lube him up before setting his cock against Toby’s hole and pushing inside. Toby pushed back, letting his head hang loose as he concentrated on relaxing everything so he could get Caleb all the way inside him as soon as possible. It burned like hell, but he didn’t care. He knew how good it would feel in a few minutes.

  Caleb’s hips soon rested fully against Toby’s ass, and Caleb paused there while Toby breathed through the residual pain. It didn’t last long, and soon Toby rocked his hips back, letting Caleb know without words he could move.

  And move he did. Caleb drew back and then slammed home. A surprised yell burst out of Toby as he scrabbled with his hands to brace himself more firmly, and Caleb didn’t let up, fucking Toby fast and hard, like he’d been holding back the tide and the dam had finally burst. Maybe it had, their phone conversations over the past week and a half building up between them until something had to give. Apparently it was Caleb’s control.

  Not that Toby had any complaints, except that this was going to be over a lot faster than he would have liked. He couldn’t spare a hand to jerk himself off, but that might not even matter, at the rate Caleb was going. And even if Caleb came first, it wouldn’t take more than a few strokes for him to follow.

  Caleb shifted his hips then, and Toby lost his train of thought as the new angle hit just the right spot deep inside. Oh hell, maybe he wouldn’t need a hand at all. He threw his head back on a moan, arching his back, feeling Caleb dig his fingers into his hips. One corner of the sheet popped off the bed, dragged loose by Toby’s grasping hands, and just when he thought he couldn’t take it another second, Caleb moved again, reaching around to grab Toby’s desperate cock.

  Three more seconds stretched into forever and then Toby was finally there, making an incoherent sound as his body seized in pleasure. He jerked and shot over Caleb’s hand and onto the mattress, and before he’d finished, Caleb slammed deep into him and groaned out his own release.

  Panting as if they’d run a marathon, they slumped sideways onto the mattress in a tangle of sweaty limbs. Toby throbbed pleasantly from head to toe, and while he had a fleeting thought of getting cleaned up, his brain decided it liked the idea of sleep better.

  Halfway through the next day—after three more rounds of sex, breakfast in bed consisting of Pop-Tarts and coffee, and a thrown-together lunch of whatever leftovers in Toby’s fridge weren’t too old for consumption—Toby decided he kind of liked this sleepover thing. He’d rarely spent an overnight with the few men he’d been with before Caleb, and even then, one of them always ended up doing the Walk of Shame the next morning. The actual sleeping part of sleeping with Caleb wasn’t so easy, other than a couple of postcoital naps. He kept waking himself up just as he started to doze, afraid he’d snore or drool or do something embarrassing that would scare off his bedmate.

  Caleb didn’t seem inclined to go anywhere, though. After they’d cleaned up from their lunch, Caleb had trailed him over to the sofa and then settled in close while Toby turned on the MLB Network to find out who was playing that afternoon. With Baltimore and Tampa in a pitcher’s duel for background noise, they talked.

  “Believe it or not, the main thing I remember about my dad isn’t him taking me to baseball games.” Toby slid his hand along Caleb’s forearm where it had ended up lying across his hips. “It’s not baseball at all. It’s sitting on the front porch on the swing and watching him shuck corn. Helping when I got a little older, though it probably took him a lot longer with me ‘helping.’ Co
rn on the cob was his favorite thing in the whole world, and he’d buy it by the bushel in high season and freeze it so he’d have it all year-round.”

  Caleb laughed. “There’s a lot of corn in Indiana,” he said, voice wry. “We ate it almost every meal in the summer. I boycotted once. Preteen rebellion. I loved the stuff, still do, but for some hormonal reason I thought, ‘I’ll show them.’ Cut off my nose to spite my face, but Mom never flinched. Never even mentioned it. I lasted about a week.”

  Toby shifted closer to Caleb’s long, warm body. “Guess I skipped the rebellious stage. Unless this counts.” He ran a hand down Caleb’s stomach to brush over his crotch, and Caleb gave a soft moan.

  “Better late than never,” he murmured, bringing his own hand over to press on top of Toby’s. Toby felt the flesh under his palm firm and grow, and his own body responded in kind. He shifted again, pulling himself up to lie half on top of Caleb so he could look down into the other man’s deep-blue eyes.

  “Viva la revolución,” he said just before he kissed Caleb’s full lips.

  Another freakin’ weird start time.

  Toby grimaced as he pulled himself out of his car much too early on Saturday afternoon and headed toward the clubhouse. He couldn’t believe they’d gotten hit with two late-afternoon games two weeks apart. The gods of baseball broadcasting must hate me.

  At least he knew Caleb would be on time. Toby’d stood over him while he programmed a reminder into his phone before Toby left that morning. Toby had rewarded him with a deep, lingering kiss and then headed home to shower and change. He would’ve taken a bag with him to Caleb’s, but even after they’d spent almost two days together at Toby’s place—most of them in bed—he hadn’t thought when he went to the ballpark the evening before that a few hours later he’d be laid out on Caleb’s bed, getting fucked to within an inch of his sanity.

  Toby forced his mind away from that train of thought, which led to nowhere he needed or wanted to go in public. He focused on his pregame prep, which went smoothly, and sure enough, Caleb showed up on time, pausing just long enough to shoot Toby a heated glance and a big smile before heading to his locker to dress for the game. Even the stragglers arrived with enough time to hurry into their uniforms before batting practice, and game time came and went with no major glitches. Toby breathed a little easier then.