Scoring With Him (Men of Summer #1) Read Online Lauren Blakely

Categories Genre: M-M Romance, Romance, Sports Tags Authors: Series: Men of Summer Series by Lauren Blakely
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Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 92095 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
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“You gotta go so early? It’s only nine,” Crosby says.

“As you may have noticed, I’ve been playing like shit, so I’m going to get laid tonight and see if that breaks my streak.” He waggles the phone, flashing the Grindr app before he puts it in his pocket.

“Ooh, get it, bro,” Crosby calls out.

Chance pumps his hips. “Break the streak.”

Sullivan whistles. “Guess you got on Grindr after all. And I’m sure your hookup appreciates your commitment to baseball.”

Grant laughs, then high-fives everyone.

Myself included. “It was fun playing with you for, what, four weeks? See you in September when we pummel you.”

My guy leaves.

Fifteen minutes later, I yawn. “I’ve got a six a.m. flight, and I want to impress my new team, so I need some shut-eye.”

I say my goodbyes to the folks who have been like my brothers, then I get into my car, suitcase already packed, and I head for the hotel near The Lazy Hammock.

I park, grab my overnight bag and walk to a suite in the corner with an outside entrance. It’s private. No hallways. No one here we know. No one to see us go into a room together or leave together.

My pulse spikes as I near the door, slide my card key across it, then head inside.

I drop my bag by the bathroom, turn the corner, and groan.

Grant is stretched out on the bed, naked as a jaybird, lazily stroking his cock. The card key I gave him to get in the room is on the nightstand. The ends of his dark blond hair are wet.

“Merry Christmas to me,” I say, as I kick off my shoes, tug off my shirt, and climb over him. Dropping my lips to his, I kiss the fuck out of him. His hands slide into my hair, curling around my head, and he yanks me closer.

The only place I want to be.

His legs wrap around me. “Yes, gimme this banging body,” Grant murmurs as his arms hook around me while I bury my face in his neck, kissing him there, inhaling that sexy clean scent, the just-showered smell I dig.

But I love him dirty too.

Love him sweaty.

Love him smelling like a sexy beast of a man who needs me the same way I need him.

We kiss for ages, all over.

Necks, jaws, earlobes.

Pecs, stomachs, throats.

The difference this time is we aren’t frenzied. We aren’t kissing like the world is ending.

Even though we’ve barely had a chance to figure shit out, we’ve figured out this much—tonight feels like it could be the start of something rather than the end of everything.

I slow our kissing. Raising my face, I take a second to admire his swollen lips, his kiss-drunk smile, the twinkle in his eyes.

Grant shoots me a dirty grin. “Are you just going to tease me all night, or are you going to let me fuck you?”

Pleasure jolts down my spine in a hot rush, but as much as I want to get naked with him, I want something else too.

I want him in November.

And I don’t want to leave this up in the air. We didn’t have time to talk about the details earlier. Now we do, and I want to lock this in.

So, I push up on my arms, brace myself on my palms, and stare down at the rookie. “What are you doing in November?”

“Umm . . . napping. Taking a long-ass vacation somewhere warm. Am I supposed to say golf? I don’t think I like golf, but maybe reading on a beach. I’ve always wanted to go to Miami. Relax on the sand, get lost in some books,” he says, then his tone wavers, worry flickering in his beautiful eyes. “That is, if I make the roster.”

My heart squeezes for him. I bend closer, brush a soft kiss to his cheek. “You’ll make it. You just need to focus, babe. OK? Trust me on this. Just focus on baseball. You’ve got it.”

“I hope so,” he says, his voice thin. Then he draws a deep breath, exhales. “I remember what you said though. When we started working out. Relationships are distracting. Especially your rookie year. You cut yours off.”

“I did.” But Kyle wasn’t Grant. Grant is a galaxy away from Kyle. Grant is the guy I’d move mountains for. Grant is the best thing I’ve ever had. But I don’t want to be the worst thing for him, so I nod, firmly. “Best decision I ever made. I had a great rookie year. I want you to have a great rookie year.”

“I just want to make the team.”

“You will. Keep your eye on the prize,” I say, then I nuzzle his neck, whispering against his skin, “But come November, all that stuff you’re doing, like reading on the beach?” I lift my face, meet his eyes. “Do it with me.”


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