Home Field Advantage Page 7

  God, I am falling in love with him. Even though it had been only a couple of weeks, the feeling hit him hard, and he didn’t allow himself to fight it. He squeezed Caleb’s hand and reached over to pick up the duffel bag sitting on the bed.

  “Let’s get you home.”

  Otis pushed Caleb downstairs in the hospital-required wheelchair, but he’d scouted things out in advance and knew a couple of news teams waited outside to pounce when they emerged, so he let them out the same side door as before. Even with the subterfuge, Toby breathed easier once they were in his car and headed out of the parking lot. He had no idea whether they’d encounter media at Caleb’s apartment, but he guessed that would probably be a safer bet than his own place. Caleb hadn’t been living there long, so maybe the press hadn’t found it yet.

  Things looked promising when they pulled up to the gates—nothing resembling a news van in sight—and soon they were climbing the flight of stairs to Caleb’s place. Toby kept his hands off Caleb, not because he was worried about being seen but because he didn’t want to give the impression that he thought Caleb couldn’t make it on his own. Caleb had been checked, rechecked, and given every all clear in the books, with just fading bruises and prescription painkillers to show for his troubles. He’d be off the field for a little while yet, but daily life he could handle just fine.

  Toby still carried his bag for him, though. And Caleb, he noted, hadn’t protested.

  Caleb unlocked the door and pushed it open. He shot Toby a wry grin. “I guess it’s not going to feel much like home,” he noted, “considering I’ve only spent about a half-dozen nights here.”

  Toby laughed. “Well, it’s a definite improvement over a hospital room, that’s for sure.”

  Caleb chuckled in agreement and walked inside. Toby followed closely behind and shut the door behind them. Caleb dropped his keys on the breakfast bar, kicked off his sneakers, and kept walking, straight into the bedroom. Toby hung back, unsure whether he should follow, but in another few moments, Caleb stuck his head back out.

  “I’m going to scrub the hospital off me.” He let his gaze wander Toby’s body, so much like a caress that Toby almost felt it. “Want to wash my back?”

  Toby’s mouth stretched into a grin, even as he dropped the duffel bag and went after his boyfriend. When he got to the bathroom, Caleb had his shirt and shorts unbuttoned and was bent over, turning on the water. Not about to miss that opportunity, Toby walked up right behind him, cupped Caleb’s hips with his hands, and pressed his crotch, and his rapidly hardening cock, into the valley between Caleb’s cheeks.

  “Shit!” Caleb jumped and then moaned as Toby rubbed harder against him. “Fuck. Toby.”

  Toby bent over Caleb’s back so he could lick his way up his neck to bite his earlobe. “Missed you,” he murmured. The shiver that ran through Caleb’s body sent Toby’s heart rate galloping.

  Caleb groaned. “I want this”—he rubbed his ass against Toby’s crotch—“so fucking much.” He turned his head and kissed Toby’s cheek, his lips soft and warm. “But let me wash the antiseptic smell off first? I don’t want us both to stink of it.”

  “You smell like heaven,” Toby replied. He took a step back and away and attacked his clothes. “But I get it. Get your clothes off, and we’ll take care of that fast.”

  Clothes discarded and water temperature adjusted, they stepped into the tub, and Caleb moved immediately under the spray. Toby followed, reaching for the tiny bar of soap sitting on the corner shelf. He laughed as he reached forward to wet it in the water and started working up a lather. “Did you steal the soap from the Hyatt?”

  Caleb turned his head, and Toby saw he was blushing. “I haven’t exactly had much time to shop since I got here, and I left mine in Pearl.”

  Toby moved in even closer and ran both hands across Caleb’s chest, rubbing the soap across his skin. “You know I’m just teasing you. I like this stuff, though. Smells like you.”

  Toby felt Caleb’s chuckle under his fingers. “I smell like it,” he pointed out. “Especially with you rubbing it all over me.”

  Toby grinned against Caleb’s shoulder. “Not all over. Not yet, anyway.” He let one hand drift lower, working suds into the hair below Caleb’s navel, and Caleb shivered again and leaned back into Toby’s body. Toby stopped any pretense of washing him and just held him there, turning his face into the side of Caleb’s neck.

  “You scared me,” he whispered. “Don’t scare me like that again.”

  Caleb pushed away, making Toby’s heart jerk in his chest, but he only turned around and cupped Toby’s face in both hands. “I’m fine.” His voice was low but strong. “I’m not going anywhere, okay?”

  Toby ran his fingers oh so lightly over the side of Caleb’s beautiful face, now marred with bruises. “You better not,” he said. “I’m kind of getting used to having you around.”

  Caleb smiled. “It’s not like I haven’t been hit by pitches before. Hell, from behind the plate more than at it. They don’t call catcher’s gear the ‘tools of ignorance’ for nothing. We’re sitting ducks.”

  “But a batter doesn’t have a catcher’s mask.”

  “Kind of hard to see the pitcher that way.”

  Before Toby could reply, Caleb bent to kiss him, and Toby could only open his mouth and slide his tongue out to tangle with Caleb’s. The risks came with the game, he knew. What had happened to Caleb was a one in a million shot, and odds were extremely low that it would ever happen again.

  Didn’t mean Toby would stop worrying, but he’d have to learn to live with that.

  Caleb’s lips moved away, sliding across Toby’s cheek to his ear. “Let’s get showered,” he rasped. “Because I think we’re gonna need to be lying down for me to do what I want to do to you.”

  Toby’s whole body tightened at Caleb’s words, and he groaned, the low sound reverberating off the tile. He forced himself to take a step away from Caleb’s warm, wet body, reached for the sliver of soap again, and worked up new lather. He tried to keep his touch impersonal, efficient, but he failed miserably. Caleb’s skin just felt too good under his fingertips, and he lingered much too long on some of his favorite spots.

  By the time they were both washed and rinsed off, they could barely move without bumping into each other’s hard cocks. Caleb grinned down at Toby and shifted his hips back and forth, letting their dicks bounce across each other as if jousting. Toby laughed and grabbed Caleb’s shaft to give it a squeeze. “Trying to start a fire?”

  Caleb hissed and blinked. “Think we already have.”

  Toby brushed a quick kiss over Caleb’s mouth but didn’t release his grip, even as he bent forward to turn off the water and then pushed the shower curtain aside. Caleb followed him out of the tub and reached to snag the towel off the bar, then used it to dry off the worst of the wetness while Toby continued to tease his cock. Toby leaned forward to suck droplets off Caleb’s nipples, and Caleb let out a sound between a whimper and a whine.

  “You’re killin’ me,” he said, and Toby looked up at him from under his lashes as he closed his lips around Caleb’s right nipple. Caleb jerked all over. “Jesus,” he rasped out. “Bed. Now. Please.”

  Toby pulled his mouth away but not his hand, using it to pull Caleb toward the bedroom. Caleb laughed roughly. “Leading me around by my dick?”

  Toby ran his tongue all the way around his own lips before he answered. “It’s working, isn’t it?”

  Caleb grunted, and then he pounced. He grabbed Toby with both arms, trapping Toby’s hand right where it was, and fell onto the bed, dragging Toby down and under him. He came up breathing hard but lying full-length on top, and Toby had absolutely no complaints about his position.

  Caleb brought his hand up to push the still wet hair back from Toby’s forehead. “Want you,” he said, and then he kissed Toby so tenderly and deeply that it simultaneously melted Toby’s heart and stiffened his dick. God, Caleb could kiss. Toby could stay right there and just kiss Caleb forever
and be satisfied.

  But there was so much more they could be doing.

  Toby wrapped his legs around Caleb’s and used the leverage to push his pelvis against Caleb’s, rubbing their cocks together between their bodies. Caleb groaned into their kiss and pushed back, setting up a give-and-take movement that rocked them closer and closer to orgasm. Toby raked his fingernails down Caleb’s back, probably leaving red marks behind, but he didn’t care. He just wanted more of Caleb against him, around him. Inside him.

  “Can’t wait.” Caleb murmured the words against Toby’s mouth and dove back into their kiss, even as he maneuvered them to the side so he could work a hand in between them. He caught their cocks together, the warmth and pressure of his fingers perfect, and Toby gasped against Caleb’s mouth.

  “Fuck,” he breathed out. “Caleb.”

  Caleb made a sound in his throat and plunged his tongue into Toby’s mouth, and Toby opened wide to let him in. He got a handful of Caleb’s hair and a handful of his ass and rode it out, letting Caleb carry them to the edge and then throw them right over.

  They came down together, panting, skin flushed and sweaty, their mixed cum pooled on Toby’s stomach. Toby floated on a wave of sensation, residual shockwaves zapping through him, feeling the warmth of Caleb’s breath against the side of his face. Caleb tightened his arm around him where he still held him close, and Toby’s heart did that little flip again.

  I am so far gone it’s not even funny. Ironically, the thought made him snicker

  “What’s funny?”

  Toby bit back another laugh. “Nothing.” He pressed a kiss against Caleb’s temple, the closest part of him he could reach. “Just rest. We’ll get cleaned up in a bit.”

  God, I hate this.

  Toby stopped outside his grandfather’s office and gave a cursory knock on the frame before stepping into the open doorway. “You asked to see me?”

  “I did.” Ray Macmillan sat behind the desk, just as he had two days earlier, but the look on his face was about a million shades less dire. He lifted his chin in the direction of the chair nearest Toby. “Have a seat.”

  Toby did, noticing as he moved closer that a folder lay open on his desk with what looked like legal paperwork spread out from it. He tensed, waiting for his grandfather to bring the hammer down on him.

  “These documents,” Ray began, “are the ones my lawyer started drawing up for me on Monday. They include a revised version of my will and paperwork related to the ownership of this team.” He looked up, pinning Toby with his piercing gaze. “Every one of them is written to exclude you from ever inheriting or otherwise acquiring any portion of the 60-percent stake I hold in this ball club.”

  Toby nodded. He’d expected as much when he’d defied his grandfather. After talking with his lawyer, Toby knew there was no risk of him losing the share his father had left him, the 30 percent he’d gotten on his own twenty-first birthday. But it didn’t surprise Toby that his grandfather would make sure Toby would never have any more.

  Ray held his gaze for a few long moments, and then he picked up several of the sheets and slowly, deliberately, tore them in half from top to bottom. Toby sat up straighter, and Ray picked up another set and repeated the motion.

  He pushed the ruined paperwork aside, along with the folder they’d been inside, revealing a second folder. He opened this one and pulled out a single sheet of paper.

  “This is the document I had written after I told my lawyer to dispose of those.” He nodded toward the ruined paperwork. “It is a press statement confirming that I am aware of your sexual orientation, and that of Caleb Browning. Further, it states that it is the policy of this ball club not to discriminate against its employees on the grounds of sexual orientation, and that the team will not tolerate any such actions by any of its staff.” He looked away from Toby finally. “It’s being released to the press as we speak. It is all I will have to say on the matter.”

  Toby waited, wondering if his grandfather would have something a little more personal to say. When Ray didn’t continue speaking, Toby leaned forward. “So…. What? You’re not going to cut me out of the team because it would be a bad PR move? What about the fact that I’m your grandson and you’re supposed to actually, oh, I don’t know, care about me?”

  Ray lifted his head, and Toby was taken aback by the weariness on his face. Suddenly, Ray Macmillan looked every one of his sixty-four years. “I don’t…. This is what I can do. I can’t….”

  He trailed off, and despite himself, Toby felt a pang of sympathy. His grandfather was from a different generation, raised under different belief systems and societal structures. Just the fact that he was willing to overcome those learned prejudices enough not to cut Toby out of his life was a huge step.

  Toby decided he could live with that, for now.

  “I…. Thank you,” he finally said. He pushed to his feet. “I’ll see you—well. I’ll see you.”

  He turned and walked out of the office, his heart aching, but not broken.

  “Happy birthday, dear Tooooo-byyyyyy! Happy birthday to you!”

  Toby leaned forward and blew out the candles, to a chorus of cheers. His face hurt from grinning so wide, but he couldn’t help himself. He stood in the middle of the clubhouse after Friday night’s game, surrounding by the team and staff, a huge sheet cake decorated with an elaborate depiction of a baseball game sitting in front of him. He’d expected to get birthday wishes—he did every year—but the clubhouse staff had outdone themselves this time. Even the postgame meal was Toby’s favorite—pulled pork sandwiches with all the fixings.

  Best of all was Caleb, standing next to him and smiling almost as much as Toby. Tonight was his first night back with the team, though he’d stay on the injured list for a while longer, and they’d both been heartened by the many supportive greetings he’d received when they arrived. A few players avoided him, though because they disapproved or didn’t know what to say, Toby didn’t know. Heck, for all he knew, they might have their own secrets they weren’t ready to share.

  “Speech! Speech! Speech!” Toby didn’t know who’d started the chant, but he suspected Marty, from the smirk on his face. Toby waved a hand until everyone quieted down a little.

  “I think I’m kind of speeched out this week,” he said, to several hoots and even a couple of “go, boys.” “So I’ll just say thank you, for the cake and, well, just for being good guys and standing by me. Us.”

  He reached for Caleb’s hand, giving it a quick squeeze. “Now,” he said, reaching for the cake server sitting on the table. “Who wants the first slice?”

  With his friends and coworkers clamoring for first dibs, Toby felt Caleb step up beside him, close enough that Toby could feel his body heat. He didn’t have to look. He knew Caleb would be right there, and that was enough for him.

  About the Author

  Shae Connor lives in Atlanta, where she’s a lackadaisical government worker for a living and writes sweet-hot romance under the cover of night. She’s been making things up for as long as she can remember, but it took her a long time to figure out that maybe she should try writing them down. A member of the Romance Writers of America, Shae was first published in 2010 and has released an extensive lineup of short stories, novellas, and novels.

  Shae won the 2017 Rainbow Award for Best LGBT Anthology/Collection for her novella bundle Hands On and the 2014 Rainbow Award for Best LGBT Anthology/Collection for the multi-author anthology Playing Ball. Her novella Tongue & Groove was a finalist in the Erotic category of the 2017 Kathryn Hayes “When Sparks Fly” contest of the NYC chapter of Romance Writers of America. She also won first place in Contemporary in the 2019 Main Romance Writers Strut Your Stuff blurb contest.

  Shae is part Jersey, part Irish, and all Southern, which explains why she never shuts up. When she’s not chained to her laptop, she enjoying cooking, traveling, watching baseball, reading voraciously, wearing tiaras, and hugging a lot. She’s also the volunteer Director/Editor for the Dra
gon Con on-site publication, the Daily Dragon.

  You can find Shae hanging out on Twitter most any time @shaeconnor, but for the more direct route, you can visit her website at shaeconnorwrites.com or email her at shaeconnorwrites@gmail.com.

  More from Shae Connor

  Hands-On

  Rhythm & Blues

  Tongue & Groove

  Heart & Soul

  Graphite & Glitter

  Anthologies and Collections

  Rogue Nights

  (“The Coffee Shop Around the Corner”)

  Wide Open Spaces

  Short Stories

  “Fringes”

  “In From the Cold”

  Second Editions Coming Soon

  The Sons Series

  Unfortunate Son

  Wayward Son

  Nobody’s Son

  Other Novels and Novellas

  Teaching Ben

  Sand & Water

  En Fuego

  Model Student

  And more…