Naomi bit her bottom lip and nodded. She traced the movement ofhis arm as he pulled back for an underhanded lob. The ball soared toward her, and she turned her whole body as fast as she could, spinning like a top while the ball crashed against the backstop.
Okay, so she wasn’t a natural.
Ethan abandoned the mound and jogged toward her.
“Probably should have given you a demonstration first. Watch me.” He picked up a bigger, longer bat and then moved to stand in front of her, and wow, did Naomi not have to be told twice.
Why wasn’t he moving behind her and positioning her hips like they did in the movies? This really seemed like a perfect opportunity for her to press her ass back against his dick and—
“Hey,” he said, noticing she was completely not listening. “Stay with me here. We don’t have much time.”
“Right.”Don’t look at his dick. Don’t look at his dick.“Sorry.”
“See how my knees are slightly bent and my back elbow is up?”
Okay, but did the pants have to be so tight? Surely that was restrictive rather than helpful? Did they wear cups in baseball?
She swallowed. “Yes.”
“So, your front leg stays planted, and you just wanna pivot on the toes of your back foot.” He swung a few times, slowing down so his body moved like he was slicing through water. If she didn’t get to spank that ass at least once in her lifetime, it would be a crying shame.
Naomi attempted to mimic him, torn as to whether she should purposely mess up to get his arms around her. Just when she was ready to thrust her butt out in a way she knew was a fan-favorite position, he headed back to the mound.
“That’s looking better.” He put down his bat. “Let’s try again.”
This time when the ball reached her, Naomi made contact, sending it almost straight up into the air. Hey, it was an improvement, even if Ethan ducked under it and caught it easily.
“Okay, so,” she called. “I’m probably never going to be an all-star, but I can run.”
It was one of the perks of being, like, seventy percent legs.
He studied her form, his gaze heavy. “Let’s try bunting.”
Naomi had zero clue what that meant, but when he came and reached for her, his big warm hands wrapping around her wrists and positioning her arms, she decided she liked it.
“So when I give you the signal, you can square up just like this, and then all you have to do is tap the ball with the bat and try to get it to go between the pitcher and the catcher. That way they have to move, and you can hustle to first base. I’ll put you in the top of the lineup.”
“Got it.” She tried to match his somber tone. “Don’t worry. I’ll bunt the shit out of it.”
Finally, he smiled. “Hey, I’m glad you’re here.”
“Even though I might be terrible?” She tipped her head to the side.
Ethan nodded. “Even though you might be terrible.”
“And even though I might embarrass you in front of your cool softball friends?”
“Even if you embarrass me in front of my ‘cool’”—he looked at the rest of the team doubtfully—“softball friends.”
She dropped her hand to her hip. “If we lose, are you gonna pout?”
“I don’t pout,” he said, indignant. Which meant yes.
Her heart did something dangerous in her chest. Was this... pining?
“Are you gonna stamp your foot? Maybe throw your hat in the dirt?”
He took a step into her personal space, so she could feel his breath against her neck. “You think you’re cute, huh?”