Crushing On Him: A Prequel in The Men of Summer Series by Lauren Blakely

Crushing On Him: A Prequel in The Men of Summer Series by Lauren Blakely

Author:Lauren Blakely [Blakely, Lauren]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Hot Men Books
Published: 2021-06-22T18:30:00+00:00


4

Grant

Over the next few years, the crush lived where all good crushes reside—in that warm, hazy part of me. Sometimes when I was alone in my dorm room, I’d let my mind wander to Declan.

He’d joined the rotation of men in my mind. Celebrities like Jonathan Groff or Matt Bomer. Athletes like Robbie Rogers.

Porn stars too. I was quite a voracious consumer of porn, turning to the hottest subscription sites that featured sculpted guys with firm bodies. I liked what I liked.

And there was a whole host of men I could picture myself with.

Men I wanted to experience in the dark, under the sheets.

I’d picture the scorching kisses he’d paint all over my body.

I’d imagine tongues, and mouths, and lips exploring everywhere. Him, me—both of us at the same time.

Bodies coming together.

Him throwing me down on the bed. Taking me. Having me.

Or me doing the same to him.

Anything, everything.

It was all a playground I wanted to experience.

My brain cycled through image after image that brought me over the edge.

During the day, though, I stayed in the zone, doing my best in my history classes and hanging out with friends like Reese, since she now went to the same college as me, and I could see her on the reg.

On weekends when I didn’t have games, we’d go dancing with friends, check out local clubs. I’d flirt with cute guys; they’d flirt back. Sometimes I’d hook up here or there. Nothing serious, nothing that went too far, and no dates.

I simply didn’t have time between studying and baseball.

Through it all, I kept playing hard on the field.

Improving behind the plate.

Leading my team.

Hearing rumbles of scouts coming to check me out.

Soon, their presence at my games was more frequent. Old dudes in Aces jackets, or Storm Chasers jerseys, or Sharks gear, taking notes in their little notebooks as I caught and hit.

And I gave them something to talk about.

Oh hell, did I ever give them reports to bring back to the front offices.

I was dominant, and took my school to the College World Series, winning it all.

Agents checked me out too. In the spring of my junior year, I talked to a handful, but talking was all that was allowed with student-athlete eligibility rules.

Once I was finished with college ball though, the rules changed. And with my early graduation looming closer, it was time to pick and choose.

“Holy hell. Is this my life?” I asked Reese one night in my dorm as I was picking what shirt to wear to meet an agent named Haven. A former Olympic gold medalist in snowboarding, she’d made a name for herself as an athlete’s agent, with a fantastic client list and a keen understanding of what mattered to guys and gals playing ball.

“Pick the blue polo, you dork,” she said as she perched on my desk, polishing her toes a cherry red. “And yes, I can believe it. I’ve always believed in you.”

My chest went warm. Her support meant the world to me. Hell, she was the reason for another tattoo of mine—a mountain on my right hip.



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