The pitch, p.1
THE PITCH, page 1
THE PITCH
By Martina Dale
Martina Dale
Copyright © 2023 by Martina Dale. All rights reserved.
No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher or author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters, and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental. Martina Dale asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
Martina Dale has no responsibility for the persistence or accuracy of URLs for external or third-party Internet Websites referred to in this publication and does not guarantee that any content on such Websites is, or will remain, accurate or appropriate. Designations used by companies to distinguish their products are often claimed as trademarks. All brand names and product names used in this book and on its cover are trade names, service marks, trademarks, and registered trademarks of their respective owners.
The publishers and the book are not associated with any product or vendor mentioned in this book. None of the companies referenced within the book have endorsed the book.
WARNING
This book may contain triggers.
This book contains scenes of a sexual nature (smoking hot scenes), and some mild/moderate violence. If any of these scenes may cause you distress or offend you this book may not be for you.
If you don't have triggers and like what you see, read on my friend, you are in for a real treat and I'll see you on the other side.
Martina
xxx
About This Book
I nearly had it all: a successful football career, money flowing like a waterfall, and women dropping at my feet. I was living life to the max until some pretty harsh weather conditions ended my career and ruined the rest of my life.
I turned into someone I didn’t know and didn’t like and became the laughingstock of my family. They all expected me to knock up a hooker. I don’t blame them. I made a lot of mistakes.
My injury is getting worse. I’ve tried to cover it up and hide it from everyone, but I can’t hide anymore. If I leave it too long... Well, let’s just say that isn’t an option for me. Not when I’ve fought so hard to get back on my feet.
Just when I think the universe has a major grudge against me, she puts Brook Fielding back on my radar. I had the biggest crush on her. More than a crush. I was in love, but I didn’t do anything about it, because I knew she’d turn me down.
But I’m not a horny footballer anymore. I’m a grown man, and this time, I’m not going to let her get away.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Epilogue
Also By
The Ride
Thank You
Chapter 1
Carter
I love flying private. I can’t even remember the last time I flew commercial. Even business class is uncomfortable. Yeah, they provide those pods that turn into beds, but you can't beat a whole king-size bed with Egyptian cotton sheets.
Am I a snob? Yes, I am. I like nice things, but I work bloody hard for them, too. Nothing I have has been handed to me on a plate. Except for the one hundred dollars my parents gave me for Christmas from when I was a teenager until becoming an adult. I worked my ass off and even nearly gave my life to my career as a professional footballer. Playing in the English Premier League had always been my dream, and when I finally made it, the universe had another plan. I’ve still not figured out what it is yet though.
Life is short, and you have to make the most of each day. My family thinks that I’m still having a breakdown after my accident, but I’m not. I’m just enjoying myself. It makes me agitated when they have a go at me about my going from one woman to the next. Braxton, my eldest brother, was just as bad, if not worse, but no one ever gives him shit now that he’s settled down, and Drew, my youngest brother, he keeps his activities private for a reason.
“Mr. Blackmoore, we will be landing in New York in forty-five minutes. Is there anything else I can get you?” Shelly, the air steward, smiles. She has that twinkle in her eye. When she says anything . . . she means anything. I’m flying back home to New York from the UK. It’s a flying visit for a couple of days to meet the new additions to the family. I’ve spent a lot of time in both countries, but England is my home now. I have a nice house in the industrial town of Southland. It’s only an hour away from London, which suits me fine. It stresses me out to think of London town and the millions of people who stand and stare.
“I could do with something to help me relax,” I say with a smile and a wink.
“I thought you might. Please go and make yourself comfortable. I’ll be with you shortly.”
She walks in the opposite direction of the bedroom, her hips swaying, and I struggle to keep my eyes off her amazing ass. I head to the back of the plane, open the door, drop my trousers, climb onto the bed, and lay back. Shelly is one of the better ones at blow jobs, and she only offers when we are alone on a flight.
I take my dick in my hand and fist myself to make myself fully hard. Shelly is beautiful, sexy, and a wonderful woman, but although we have an attraction to each other, I know it could never be anything more.
“Are you ready?” she asks, walking through the door.
“I’m always ready!” I reply, giving her a cheeky smile.
“What is it you need today? Full sex or me taking your cock in my mouth like a good girl? I’m up for either.” She smiles and bites her bottom lip.
“I don’t think we have time for full sex. But if you climb up here and sit on my face, we can both get off.”
She slides her panties down and steps out of her shoes. “You’re such a charmer, Carter.”
“Eating pussy helps me relax, you know this, and don’t tell me you don’t love it.”
“Of course I do. You’re an expert. I was hoping that we might catch up while we are both in New York.”
“Ah, Shelly, don’t ruin this; we have talked about this. I don’t want to lead you on. I enjoy the fun we have on flights, but that’s it. If you don’t want to do this, then don’t offer.”
“You’re an asshole, Carter,” she says, pulling her panties back on.
“I never said I wasn’t. But I also never made any promises. If I remember right, you came on to me first.”
“I like you, Carter. I thought you liked me, too.”
“I do, I don’t go around asking women to sit on my face if I don’t like them. I like you a lot, but not in the way you want me to. I’m sorry.”
“I think you need to take your seat for landing, Mr. Blackmoore,” Shelly says, walking out of the room and slamming the door.
Fuck. Now flights where Shelly’s on board are going to be awkward as shit. I should listen to Kane more. Never shit where you eat, he’s told me more than once.
I have listened to him, and while I’m at work, I don’t get involved with any of the female employees—not that there are many. I also know I’d end up being front page tabloid fodder if I did. Which is why casual, consensual sex is always best. I never ask a woman to sleep with me; I don’t need to. I make sure they beg so that it’s clear that it was their idea and their decision. Don’t get me wrong, I tease and torment them and drive them crazy, and then record them asking me to fuck them. I’ve never shared those recordings, and they are only voice recordings filed away for my own protection.
I take my seat and buckle the belt while Shelly takes hers at the front of the plane. It feels like the air-conditioning has been pushed up to beyond freezing, and the disgusted look in her eyes is telling me that that won’t be happening again. I don’t feel guilty, and I don’t feel bad, I feel relieved.
When women want more than I do, it’s time to part ways. It’s not that I am relationship adverse, I’ve just not met anyone who makes me want more than just good sex.
Well, that’s not true. I did meet someone many years ago when I was a player . . . a football player. I was nineteen, and she was training to be a sports physiotherapist. What I would have done to have her hands all over my hamstring and anywhere else she wanted. Unfortunately, I never got the chance to find out. She was bright, stunningly beautiful, and funny. I wasn’t the only player who wanted her, but she made it clear that she wouldn’t entertain any of us. Which was a good thing. If I couldn’t have her, then I was glad no one else would. But that was years ago. She’s probably married with three kids and a Range Rover by now. I often think of her when I feel like I'm in a limbo situation.
The plane lands, and as soon as it stops moving, Shelley opens the door and makes he
“Good afternoon, Mr. Blackmoore,” Eric, one of our drivers, says, opening the door for me.
“It could be better,” I mumble back.
“Are you looking forward to seeing your new niece and nephew?”
I roll my eyes. I could think of a million other things I’d rather be doing, but as Ruby, my brother Kane’s fiancée, had her baby three weeks ago, and Gee, my brother Braxton’s fiancée, had their baby two days ago, I couldn’t find any more excuses to not be the doting uncle. “I can’t wait. I believe Melody has a real set of lungs on her,” I reply.
“She sure does, but she seems to like my driving.” He closes the door, and I pull out my phone and open up my emails. Nothing too important as I scroll down, until I see one from my medical consultant in the UK.
My stomach turns to lead. I wish they’d leave me the fuck alone.
Dear Mr. Blackmoore,
We would like you to attend an appointment with Dr. Khan on 13th December at 2:00 p.m. We have the results from your last MRI, and Dr. Khan would like to discuss options.
We have tried to contact you by phone but have been unsuccessful.
Dr. Khan is anxious to see you in person so please make every effort to attend.
Please note, if you do not attend this appointment, your medical insurance will be cancelled, and all further treatment related to your injury will not be recoverable.
Yours sincerely,
Mary Jenkins
Secretary to Dr. Khan, DA
Fuck! There is nothing wrong with me. Why do they keep fucking poking and prodding? I just want to be left alone. Okay, I can’t run ten miles a day anymore, but I’m not a career athlete either, I don’t need to.
I add the appointment to my calendar and scroll on. I’ve got two weeks before they want to see me, and no matter what they say, I’m not going under the knife again, not now, not ever. I’ve got scars that look like a map of Manhattan, and I don’t need any additions.
I reply to a few other emails, arrange a meeting with the board, and take a look at a few players the club has its eye on.
Football is my life, my love, and my passion. I was a great player until . . . well, until things went wrong, and I lost my one and only opportunity at being the greatest footballer on the planet. I had it flowing through my veins. It was my destiny, and in one day, it was taken away. I have no memory of what happened. I’ve seen it on the television, I’ve heard it described, and I can see it from a third party, but I can’t remember exactly how or why. The thought brings bile into my throat, and I open some water and chug it down.
“We are here, Mr. Blackmoore. I’ll get your things,” Eric says, opening the car door. I hadn’t even noticed we’d stopped.
I open Braxton’s door quietly and walk inside, followed by Eric carrying the gifts I’d bought.
“Hello, anybody home?” I whisper loudly. Nobody can say I was being inconsiderate.
Brax appears from the kitchen, his hair looking longer and a total mess. His stubble is no longer trimmed to perfection, and his T-shirt looks like . . .
Oh my god.
“Is that baby puke?” I ask, screwing my face up.
“Yeah, probably. He does it a lot.” He smiles and holds out his arm. “Come on, I’ll introduce you.”
We walk into the living area. Gee is on the couch with the bassinet next to her. God, she looks like death warmed up. I thought Braxton looked like shit, but Gee . . .? Wow.
“Hey, Carter.” Gee waves her tired hand as if she’s been waving it all day. “I’ve just got him off to sleep, so you’ll have to wait a while before you can hold him,” she says, smiling tiredly.
I look into the bassinette, and my insides shiver. “Don’t worry about it, we have years to get to know each other. Plus, he looks really tiny, and I don’t want to break him.”
“You wouldn’t, but thank you for understanding. We’ve had a rough few days with him. He just wants to scream, eat, and sleep, in that order,” Gee says with a yawn.
“Are Kane and Ruby holding up any better than you two?” I ask, chuckling.
“Melody is three weeks old, so they have got into a routine. We’re still finding our feet,” Braxton says, wrapping his arm around Gee.
“So, it’ll be safe to visit them without worrying about zombies and body snatchers?” I joke, but Braxton doesn’t laugh, and neither does Gee. “Wow, I didn’t think being parents would suck the life out of your senses of humour so soon.” I shake my head and point to the gift basket. “That’s for you guys. I can tell you’re not in the mood for Carter, so I’ll head out and leave you to it.”
“You don’t have to go. You could stay for a cup of tea,” Gee says, trying to smile through tired eyes.
“No, you two get some rest. I’m here for a couple of days, so I’ll call around tomorrow.”
Brax walks me to the door and puts his hand on my shoulder. “Thanks, Carter. We are both fucked, and not in the fun sense. Who would have thought a tiny seven-pound human could turn your life upside down?”
Thank God I don’t want kids, I think to myself, and if I did . . . I don’t know.
“Get Mom and Dad to help. They’ll love it,” I say, offering a solution.
“They are coming tomorrow with Drew. You’ll all be able to catch up.”
“Drew is here?”
“Yeah, he flew in this afternoon. Why don’t you two talk? You could have shared a plane. Think of the environment.”
“Yeah, I’ll talk to him tomorrow. Anyway, I’ll leave you guys to it. Good luck.” I smile and slap him on the shoulder. As he closes the door, I pull out my phone and check for messages and call my car.
I usually get a couple of offers if people know I’m in town. Although I don’t feel like fucking right now, I might later. Just as well. Zero offers.
Kane and Ruby don’t live far from Braxton, and as I make my way into their apartment, I can hear Melody screaming at the top of her lungs.
I nearly turn around and leave, but Kane appears in front of me with Melody against his chest like he was expecting me, and he’s jiggling her up and down.
“Just in time, Uncle Carter,” he says, thrusting the screaming baby at me.
“What the hell . . .? I don’t know how to stop a screaming kid.”
“Just hold her for a minute. I need to grab her diapers and a bottle.”
“I thought Ruby was doing the old breastfeeding thing. I was looking forward to that!”
“Perv, and yeah, she is, but we’re also using bottles so that we can both be involved, and Mom can give us a break now and again.”
“Where is Mama?” I ask as I jiggle Melody like Kane was doing.
“She’s taking a nap. She was up all night, and it looks like we could have another sleepless night.”
“Why don’t they just go to sleep if they’re tired?” I ask, shaking my head and walking over to Kane, where he’s laid everything out on the dining table.
“Your guess is as good as mine,” he says, taking Melody from me. Relief runs through my whole body like cool water on a hot day.
“You’re not changing her ass on there are you? We eat off that table.” I screw my face up.
“Don’t tell Ruby, but my back is fucking killing me. I’ve spent the last three nights on the sofa. Ruby thinks I’m getting some sleep, but honestly . . . it’s no better.”
“So, sleep in your bed.”
“I will tonight. You’ve got all this to come when someone sweeps in and steals your balls.”
“Not going to happen. I don’t want all this. I don’t want pink and orange scatter cushions and . . .What the fuck is that?” I ask, looking at some weird-as-fuck statue.
“Ruby’s mom made it. So, you like it, okay? Not a word.”
“But what is it? What is it supposed to be?”
“It’s supposed to be a statue of the three of us together.”
“No, sorry, but it doesn’t look like that. It looks like . . . I don’t know, but not that.”
