In Her Own League — 35 Reese

35

REESE

“I don’t know if there was one specific thing that contributed to our win tonight,” Emmett says into the microphone during the postgame press conference. “Our pitching was phenomenal throughout all nine innings. Our defense was sharp. Our base running was aggressive at the right times.

Overall, it was a team win.”

I watch from my spot in the back of the media room. Behind all the reporters, I lean on the doorway that leads out into the hallway.

“You guys are on a five-game win streak,” a reporter says. “Can we contribute any of that to Jones joining the lineup?”

“I think having Milo join the team has been great. He has an eagerness to learn. The vets are enjoying having him around. Overall, I would say the entire organization has a new . . . energy lately.”

Emmett’s eyes flick to mine for the briefest of moments, a smirk tilting one side of his mouth.

He and I definitely have a new energy lately.

“And by the way.” He sits forward to speak into the microphone. “Our current President of Baseball Ops, Reese Remington, is the one who discovered Milo a few years back. Thought I should clear that up for all of you. And if you ask me, he was a hell of a find.”

A few heads turn my way.

He didn’t need to give me that credit, but of course he did so anyway.

Standing in the shadows, I offer a polite lift of my hand to get the attention off me again. I shouldn’t even be in this room, but I have a hard time staying away from the field manager these days.

Once they turn their attention back to the front stage where Emmett sits under the bright lights, I risk another glance his way.

Smug and satisfied, resting back in his chair with his arms crossed over his chest. So proud of himself for dropping that little anecdote.

The postgame interview continues, winding down the long day, but I should get going. I’ve been on the road for the last two nights and instead of going home this morning when I landed back in Chicago, I headed straight for Emmett’s place.

I decide to stay for one last question, simply because I enjoy Emmett’s point of view on his team, when someone slides into the space next to me.

“Reese.”

Unfortunately, I’d recognize that voice anywhere.

Every muscle in my body goes rigid at the realization of who is next to me. In this building I love so much. This place that holds so many of my favorite memories. I had mentally prepared myself to run into him while I was in New York, but not here.

“Jeremy. What are you doing here?” I ask my ex-husband.

He leans onto the wall next to me. “One of our umpires has been missing some calls. I needed to watch him live. He happened to be calling your game today, so I figured it was the perfect one to come see.”

I hate that he’s here. I hate that we’re in the same industry and it’s his literal job to come to my stadium. I also hate that he tried to take it from me.

And I hate that I wasn’t angrier about it then. I was hurt, yes. But I

should’ve been angrier.

Because how dare he?

Now that I’m here and this is all mine, I can’t begin to fathom the idea of losing it. I can’t imagine having it taken away, but even more so, I can’t conceive how someone who I thought loved me would ever try.

A slow fire begins to stir in my bones. I might be a few years late but I’m

angry now.

“So, you and Monty, huh?”

I whip in his direction. “What?”

His laugh is dry. “Really, Reese? It’s clear as day. I saw the way you were looking at him up there. I just find it hard to believe that you left me over this job and now you’re risking it by sleeping with your employee.”

Shit.

Fear and anxiety twine around my stomach. Realization steals the color from my face. How did he pick up on that? How did he notice something that he’s never witnessed for himself before?

One thing is for certain, I never looked at Jeremy the way I look at Emmett.

He can’t be the first person I tell. It doesn’t feel right. What’s going on with Emmett is far too special for Jeremy to be involved in it in any way.

My attention shifts to the front of the room to find that Emmett’s previous smile is long gone. The muscle in his jaw tics as he answers reporters. His eyes continue to flash to me and my ex-husband after every couple of words.

“Don’t worry,” Jeremy whispers. “I’m not going to say anything.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yes, you do, Reese. Don’t forget that we were married once. I know

you.”

Wow. He can go fuck himself with that.

“What’s so wild about that statement, Jeremy, is that, married or not, you’ve never known me. That’s become very clear.”

Not in the way I feel known now.

I risk one more glance in Emmett’s direction, and he looks downright lethal sitting at the front of the room. Tension is clear in his posture, clearly frustrated that he can’t get to me right now. The way he’s angrily focused on Jeremy seems similar to the level of the fury I have brewing inside.

Pushing off the doorway, I turn to leave.

“Oh,” I add before I go. “And I didn’t leave you because of a job. I left you because you tried to take something from me that wasn’t yours to have.

Maybe if you had helped me protect it instead of attempting to steal it, I would’ve been inclined to share. But I’m glad you didn’t.” I point down the hall. “So, I’m going to go. To my office. Which is on the top floor of the stadium I own. Have a good trip home, Jeremy.”

Once I’m out of that room, the fire doesn’t tamp down in the slightest.

Every step I take away from him seems to stoke it. It’s as if the hurt and anger I should’ve already worked through is all coming to head at this very moment.

And it hits me like a brick wall as to why it’s happening now.

The reason it’s sinking in all these years later is because I’ve met someone who would never dream of doing what my ex-husband did. In contrast, Emmett wants this so much for me that he’d do anything to protect it. He’d risk his own career for the sake of mine.

And that makes me angry.

Because for years, Jeremy let me believe that the only way I’d be loved was for what I could offer. I’m angry at myself for believing that.

I’m angry that he fucked me up so badly I thought being alone was my only option. I’m angry that he broke something inside of me.

Emmett came around and healed something that wasn’t his to fix, and I’m angry that he had to.

I hesitate when I reach the elevator, tempted to go hide in the dugout and clear my head the way I so often do. But I don’t want any part of that safe place to be tainted by my anger toward someone who tried to steal this from me.

Instead, I go to my office, exactly as I said I would.

Passing the empty receptionist desk, I slam my office door closed.

Fuck him for coming here without giving me a heads-up. I could’ve prepared myself. He knew what he was doing, catching me off guard.

Rounding my desk, I push my chair out of the way and stand over it.

Palms flat on the top, head hung low.

I was in survival mode when I took over this role. Desperate to prove myself. Equally desperate to prove my ex-husband wrong. I don’t want to go back to that place mentally, but I can feel the anxiousness stirring inside.

I’m worked up. I need an outlet.

I need . . . I don’t know what I need. I just need to forget I was ever his.

My door flies open.

“What the hell is he doing here?” Emmett booms, charging in like he owns the place.

It’s no wonder everyone thinks there’s something going on between us.

Throwing open my door like he has every right to.

“You can’t just barge into my office!”

“Then hire a fucking receptionist to keep me out!”

Something stirs in me from hearing the anger in his voice.

Maybe this is what I need. Maybe I need a fight. I never used to fight with Jeremy because there was nothing to fight for. But with Emmett, it feels safe to fight with him because I know we’re fighting for the same thing.

Emmett’s tone drops to a menacing level. “What the hell is he doing here, Reese?”

“He’s working. What do you want me to do about that?”

“Kick him out. I don’t want him in your stadium.”

Your stadium.

We so often banter about who has the right to what. The dugout. The clubhouse. The team. But with the conversation involving my ex-husband, the way Emmett gives me full ownership doesn’t go unnoticed.

Emmett is still worked up the way I am as he takes slow steps toward my desk.

“In case there’s any miscommunication here, let me clear a few things up for you.” He dips his head, eyes piercing mine under his heavy brow. “You are mine. That night we finally got together, when you said you wanted to make me yours, that goes both ways. You are mine, Reese, and if I need to go make sure he fucking realizes that, I will. Or is it you who needs

reminding?”

This. This is what I need.

I need to feel like his.

I need him to remind me that I am.

I need him to erase any memories of a time that I wasn’t.

Lifting my chin defiantly, I look him square in the eye. “Prove it.”

He stops in his tracks, brows lifting. “What did you just say to me?”

“Prove it. Prove that I’m yours.”

He exhales an ominous laugh, turning to pace his same path. “Don’t say something like that to me unless you want me to follow through. You don’t want to play this game with me, Reese. I’m too fired up to be smart right now.”

I don’t care that we’re in my office. I don’t care that this is a terrible idea.

At this point, I’m too worked up to even pretend to care.

“Prove. It.”

Those two words settle into the space between us.

He slowly nods, tongue running over his teeth. “Just remember that you asked for this.” Tension lines the room as he flips the lock on my office door. “You know that I respect you, right?”

I roll my eyes. “Yes. Of course I do.”

“Good. Remember that. Because it’s about to seem like I don’t.”

“What does that me—”

“Hands on the desk.” Emmett comes up behind me, running a palm over my spine before pressing down on my neck. “Face too. I’m not taking it slow with you.”

I do as he says, folding in half and squeezing my thighs together at his commanding tone.

“Oh, no, no, no.” He nudges my feet apart with his own. “Don’t be shy now, baby. You started this.”

Standing on the balls of my feet, thanks to my heels, I press my cheek to the desk and look over my shoulder.

Emmett is towering over me, big body covering mine from the wall of glass behind us, even though it’s a one-way window. With his baseball hat still on, he flips the brim to the back and fuck me with that little move.

His fingertips skim the back of my thighs, teasing the hem of my pencil skirt. “You want me to prove you’re mine, Reese?”

“Please.”

“You want me to make you forget about anyone else?”

Exactly. I’ll never get over the way he knows me.

“Yes.” I squirm, pushing my ass back into him.

He tugs my skirt up, yanking it over my wide hips and leaving it to circle my waist.

The cold air is sharp against my ass and so is the slap he delivers to one cheek. “Love this view. Love the way this bounces on me.”

“Em.”

“Shh. You’re going to stay quiet for me. Remember where we are.”

How could I ever forget? My face is currently pressed to the desk I sit at to sign his paychecks.

His fingers run over the seam of my panties and I’m so needy, so desperate already that I moan, trying to muffle the sound against the

desktop.

“What did I just say, Reese?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Keep yourself quiet or I’ll have to do it for you.” He sticks two fingers in my mouth to show me what he’ll do if he has to.

Can’t say I’d mind that one bit.

Then he takes those wet fingers and strokes them over my pussy again. I focus on not making a sound all while pushing my hips to chase his touch.

“You’re soaking wet, Reese. You like fighting with me, don’t you?”

I nod against the desk, eyes locked on him over my shoulder. “I like that I can.”

Understanding washes over him, his face going soft. “Yeah, baby. You can fight with me about anything you want to, okay?”

He presses up against me, hands roaming over my hips and ass. But then his softness disappears again. He keeps his eyes on me while using one hand to undo his belt and drop his zipper.

My focus falls from his face to between his legs as I watch him pull his dick out, wrapping a fist around it in one long stroke. He keeps his pants up.

He still has his shirt on. And everything about this image is filthy.

It only gets more depraved when he uses two fingers to pull my panties to the side, and in my next breath, he fills me completely with his cock.

“Oh, fuck,” I cry as quietly as I can.

He sighs with relief. “God, I missed you.”

He gives us both only a second before he begins to move, his thighs slapping against the back of mine. It’s dirty and fast, both of us are still clothed. It’s also exactly what I need.

My mind goes blank, only focused on the way he feels inside me.

He feels like mine.

“You need me to fuck the anger out of you, baby?”

I nod desperately, chasing his thrusts.

“Are you going to be done with the attitude after this?”

“Are you?”

His chuckle is dark. “I don’t like seeing him with you.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because I hate that he got you first. I hate that he messed with your head, but I also love that he fucked it all up. Because you’re mine now, huh?”

I whimper into the desk, clawing at anything I can get my fingers around.

Reaching back, I find his thigh, cupping my fingertips around the back of it to keep him close.

“Oh, fuck me,” he breathes out. Then he covers my hand with his own, offering this sweet moment while he takes me in an obscene way.

He cups his other palm over my shoulder, using me as leverage as he pounds into me from behind.

“The way you fit around me, Reese. You take it like you’re mine.”

“Yes, Em.”

“The way you cry my name sounds like you’re mine too.”

Oh God. I’m going to come.

“The way you clench around me feels like you’re mine.” He snaps his hips. “You feel incredible. You always feel so fucking good, Reese.”

It’s practically a growl the way the confession rips from his chest.

His hand slides between me and the desk, fingertips circling my clit.

“Oh my God, right there. Please. Please keep going.” I practically beg the words.

His other arm slips under my body, his palm circling my throat as he folds over me. Emmett lays adoring kisses along the back of my neck, a stark difference to the way he’s defiling me so perfectly.

“Do you want to be mine, Reese?”

I whimper. “I already am.”

His beard scrapes over my jaw as his mouth finds my ear. “You know what else you are? You’re a fucking boss, Reese. You don’t let other people come in here and make you question that. All of this is yours. I’m yours too.

So remember who the fuck you are.”

“What’s that?” I ask through strangled breaths. “Yours?”

He exhales a laugh. “That too.”

“Emmett.”

“I know. You’re going to prove it by coming on my cock, aren’t you?”

I can’t speak, too overwhelmed by him moving inside me, the way his frame is folded over mine and pinning me down. So, I simply nod to tell him yes.

“You should see yourself, Reese. Ass up, blonde hair sprawled on your desk. Being fucked by your field manager. Naughty little thing.”

I moan, rocking against him.

Slipping a hand around the back of his neck, I hold him to me. “How long can I be yours?”

He melts into me with a sigh, his hips continuing their punishing rhythm.

“For however long you want to be.”

“And how long are you going to be mine?”

“Always,” he admits easily. “Even if there comes a time you don’t want me to be. There’s no getting over you for me, Reese. You’ve ruined me.”

I want to tell him he’s done the same, but my words are stolen when he pushes into me one more time. My entire body tightens with a force that takes not only my words but also my breath.

Emmett follows, holding himself deep inside as we both come together yet fall apart right there in my office. Shared breaths, warm skin, equally

spent.

I slump onto the wooden desktop, letting him relax on top of me as we slow our breathing. A bit of sweat clings to his temples, but it looks so sinfully good in combination with that backward hat.

“Well, fuck me,” he says playfully, dropping his head to mine.

I laugh with him. “You’re insane.”

“That would be your doing.” He presses a kiss to my bare neck.

I practically purr in response, so fully satisfied, trying to remember what the hell I was so upset about in the first place. I can’t recall anyone other than this man laying on top of me, running his hands over my arms, down my sides, and over my ass.

His whole you know I respect you thing was never really a question, but just to be sure I remember, he trails his warm lips down my neck and over my spine leaving soft, worshipping kisses in their wake. He takes his time touching every inch of me as I stay bent over my desk.

Emmett pulls out of me, holding my panties to the side. Over my shoulder, I watch as he stares at what I know is his release dripping out of me. I can tell by the satisfied glint in his eye and the way his focus is locked between my spread legs.

Instead of cleaning me up, he simply puts my panties back in place. “You better clench for the rest of the night, Reese. You’re keeping that in to act as a reminder of who you belong to in case you run into him again.”

I can’t contain my shocked laughter. “You are out of your mind, you know that?”

“Yes, I’m aware.” He bends to playfully bite my ass cheek before pulling my skirt back down to cover it.

Turning to face him, I lean back on my desk. My legs are a bit too wobbly to walk just yet.

Emmett tucks himself back in before he takes his time straightening me out. Fixing my hair. Adjusting my top. Cleaning up my makeup from under

my eyes with the pads of his thumbs.

“How do I look?” I ask.

“Like you just got bent over your desk.”

“Great.”

He smiles, so proud of himself.

I wrap my arms around his neck. He slips his hand into my hair, pulling my lips to his. So much softer with each other than we were a few minutes

earlier.

“We should get out there,” I eventually say.

He nods, helping me to my feet. Emmett opens the door for us, allowing me to exit first. As I pass him, he leans down to my ear and whispers, “Thanks for a great meeting, boss.”