The Pitcher's Assistant by Jessa Kane



“You think so?” I raze the side of her neck with my teeth, backing her harder against the locker, rough sounds scraping up both of our throats. “I’m going to check between your legs to make sure.”

After a breathless moment, she nods. “O-okay.”

Not wanting to put any distance between us, I only manage to ease back my hips a couple of inches, sliding my hand around to the notch between her thighs. My teammates are still nearby, boisterous and loud on the other side of the wall of lockers. But as soon as I take hold of her sweet, little pussy, there’s really only me and Pippa. She cries out softly, her head falling back against the locker, clearly as innocent as can be. Never had a man.

Still, she doesn’t protest when I nudge aside the crotch of her panties and drag a knuckle through the valley of her sex, finding her abundant with moisture.

“Soaked,” I groan. “Dripping wet for me, aren’t you?”

Her eyes are concerned when they meet mine. “Is that bad?”

“No, little girl. It’s what’s necessary.” I exhale roughly against her ear. “Have you had an orgasm before, baby?”

“No,” she whispers, pinkening. “I don’t know how.”

It takes every ounce of my willpower not to drop to my knees and tongue her pussy, but I won’t chance someone seeing us. She is for my eyes alone, now and always. First, though, we have to form an agreement. One that will buy me some time to win her over.

“Do you understand what part of your duties will be, as my assistant, Pippa?”

A beat passes before she whispers, “T-to satisfy you?”

“No.”

She pulls back. “No?”

This girl is mine. Not temporarily. Oh no, not even close.

It would be so easy to bring her home and fuck her blind. Today. Now. But I need to know she is sleeping with me because our feelings are mutual, not because I’m paying her. Or because I’m giving her an interview. Until then, I have to come up with an alternate plan to keep her close. To pleasure her until she’s addicted to me and leaving isn’t an option.

“Eventually you will satisfy me, Pippa. Constantly.” I run my nose up the side of her neck, lifting her up with my hips and reveling in her choked gasp, the sound of her heels knocking against the locker. “But for now, you have two main duties as my assistant. One is to interview me for your exclusive.” Our lips meet and brush, grow damp with condensation. “And two, you’re going to learn how to get yourself off. Using my body only. Do we have a deal?”

She blinks several times before answering, her sex pulsing hotly against mine, her breath coming in short bursts. “Yes, we have a deal.”





2





Pippa





Was I crazy to agree to this deal?

Sitting in the passenger side of Cort Mulloy’s truck, I seriously wonder if I drank insanity juice this morning for breakfast. Not only have I lost my highly-coveted job, I am now the assistant to baseball’s most famous—and mysterious—player. And I came willingly!

On one hand, Cort has handed me the keys to the sports-reporting kingdom. An exclusive from this man will put me on the map. No one has ever even come close, and for some reason, he’s chosen me on whom to bestow his private confession. An interview with the tall, dark, handsome and tight-lipped pitcher will fast track my career in a way nothing else could.

However, the second half of what I’ve agreed to is terrifying.

You’re going to learn how to get yourself off. Using my body only.

I wasn’t lying when I told Cort I’ve never had an orgasm. I tried a few times when I was in high school and I just felt nervous. I don’t want to lose control of my body. I don’t want some euphoric feeling to take over. I’m fine the way I am, thank you very much.

The word throes is so alarming, isn’t it? The closest to the throes I’d like to get is watching a grand slam sail out of the park.

Or at least…that’s what I always thought.

Cort’s voice slides into my ear, making me shiver.

I’ll launch your career as a reporter.

But so help me God, I want between your legs for it, little girl.

And apparently, when he gets between my legs, he wants to get me off. Not himself.

Why?

I didn’t understand men when I woke up this morning and there’s no hope of remedying that when Cort Mulloy is the one who I’m going to be learning from. He is getting nothing out of this deal of having me as his assistant. Is he?