After he had done that, obviously holding back a little bit of his force, he started to glide his fingers over my body, just barely making contact, almost like a form of tickling. But I started to pick up something after he had done this for about five minutes; he wasn’t touching my sex. Maybe he worried my body couldn’t take it, or maybe he was just building up to it, but every time he came within a couple of inches of it, he stopped himself.
“Nick,” I said flirtatiously. “Is there a reason your hand is coming up just a little short?”
A few seconds of silence came.
“I just didn’t want to hurt—”
“Nick,” I said, grabbing his hand. “I’ll stop you if it hurts. But I want you to touch me.”
He gave a sigh before his hands went up to my breasts and squeezed gently. He kissed my neck and made me gently squirm. Now this was more like it. This was something that I could let happen.
He did this for a few seconds before he did as promised, letting his right hand go between my legs while his left remained on my breasts, fondling each one to varying degrees. I left out a gentle groan when his finger first ran over my clit.
And then his fingers curled up into me, and I let out a gasp. Soon, Nick wasn’t being gentle anymore. Nick was clawing and pulsing and curling.
And you know what? Not only did it not hurt, it felt amazing, like the pain from before made the pleasure just that much more distinct.
“Oh, Nick,” I said, arching up. I tried to reach behind me so I could stroke his hard cock, but the tub wasn’t quite big enough to make that a reality. Not that it mattered—I still was able to give him some pleasure by rubbing my ass against him.
The water sloshed around us, some of it falling out of the tub, as my shaking went from very gentle and tiny tremors to pulsing and quivering. I had never had great shower sex or tub sex before, but Nick was getting me there as if there were no obstacles in the way.
“Oh, yes, yes, right there—”
And then I let out a loud moan and clenched down hard, pressing against him as the orgasm coursed through my body. Nick’s free arm held him close against me as his fingers worked on my clit over and over until I had nothing left to give, only then finally releasing.
“Oh, wow…” I said.
I felt so relaxed I could have honestly fallen asleep. I felt so safe that I didn’t mind being naked and weak. I felt so…certain.
I turned and kissed him on the lips.
“I don’t think I ever want this to end.”
I closed my eyes and rested my head against his beating heart.
“Me neither.”
Chapter 21: Nick
Ten Days Later
The magic kept on coming for me, and for as much as I kept kicking myself for letting Izzy’s ex reach her, I had to say that everything since then had been only uphill, not only relative to that moment but to life in general.
I stayed at Izzy’s house for the next four days, finally getting to meet her son, Ryan. I probably was expecting too much out of a three-year-old, because for the most part, he just smiled at me, unsure of what to say, before running back to his mother. Izzy was sweet enough to keep encouraging Ryan to come to me, but it didn’t quite materialize like magic. Fortunately, we had plenty of time.
On the fifth day, I felt some trepidation about leaving her, but she wanted it more than I did. She even made a joke about how I would turn into a stalker if I stuck around too long, and though it was a bit morbid, I could admit that if she had her sense of humor back, that was as great a sign as anything.
Plus, when I saw her again a couple of days later, most of her scarring and swelling had subsided. She still had some pretty strong sensitivity to her ribs, making sex a little bit tricky, but we were still able to have some fun together.
All in all, though, things were going as well as I could ask.
And now, ten days later, it felt like it was time to celebrate with a formal signing and then a celebration. I parked my car at the Giants’ offices, got out in some nice sunglasses and a button-down shirt, and headed straight upstairs to the conference room, where the Giants’ owner, GM, and manager, along with my agent Scott, awaited.
“Let’s get this season started right by making you a Giant for life, shall we?” Scott said, looking ultimately relieved that I was actually signing the damn thing without any unexpected intrusions to the process.
“I’ll say,” I said.
“Hold up,” the owner said. “Let’s get a video of this. Maybe you can say a message as you sign.”
“Of course.”
The contract was laid out in front of me. I confirmed the numbers—ten years, three hundred million, which still didn’t seem real—and trusted that Scott and his team had verified all of the fine print. I looked up at the camera and waited for the go ahead. The team had made me do plenty of videos like this before, which was why they didn’t have a script for me.
“When I put this pen to paper, I will officially be a San Francisco Giant for life,” I said. “I wouldn’t have gotten here without my family. Thank you to all the Ferraris who got
