The Screw Ball (Indianapolis Lightning Book 3) by Samantha Lind (the lemonade war series .TXT) 📕

“Thanks, it was a pretty sweet hit.”

“Your first home run, I’d say that’s something to celebrate.” She smiles up at me, and I feel like this is the first-ever genuine smile she’s given me.

“Yep,” I say, popping the p. “Matt and I are headed out to celebrate,” I tell her.

“For the love of everything holy, please don’t do anything that requires me to clean up a mess,” she says, rolling her eyes.

I chuckle; she makes it seem like all I do is get into trouble, when in reality, I’ve only had the press on me about things a couple times, and only one was so-called wrong, with the strip club incident. “Got it. I’ll keep things PG tonight while in the public eye. I can’t say the same once I’m out of the club though.” I run my teeth along my bottom lip and watch as her eyes dilate at the movement. Hmm…maybe I’m not the only one who gets turned on in this little twosome.

“Can you not keep it in your pants for one night?” she scoffs.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” I smirk, and her eyes roll once again.

“Ready to go, man?” Matt asks, stepping out of the locker room. “Oh, hey, Carmen. How are you tonight?” he asks her, pulling her into a side hug. I have to stop myself from growling at his easiness with her and hers with him. Where the hell did that possessiveness come from?

“I’m good, ready to get out of here. It’s been a long couple of days,” she tells him as they separate.

“Don’t let me keep you, then,” he says, slapping a hand on my shoulder. “I’m taking this guy out to celebrate that hit tonight. I think it deserves a drink or two,” he tells her.

“Have fun, don’t do anything stupid,” she tells him, then shoots daggers at me again.

“You know I’d never,” he says, acting like he’s some squeaky-clean choir boy who isn’t ready to hit the club, looking for someone to take home for the night.

“Night, guys,” she says as a final farewell before heading down the hall. I can’t help but watch as she walks away, that ass once again teasing me until I’m hard in my jeans.

“Don’t even think about it,” Matt warns. “She isn’t the one-night stand kind of girl. Plus, I think she might be a little out of your league,” he cracks.

“Funny.” I chuckle as we both head for the exit.

“Meet you at the club?” he calls out, opening his driver's door. He drives a little sporty Audi.

“Sounds good to me,” I tell him, opening the door to my Lexus SUV.

I walk up to the club entrance with Matt by my side. Since it is a Friday night, a short line has started to form, but that’s not a problem for us. The bouncer at the door recognizes both of us instantly, offering out his fist for us to bump.

“Evening, guys, I didn’t know you were coming down tonight,” he says, opening the rope for us to step through. I catch the look from a few of the young women standing at the front of the line as they rake their eyes all over my body. Yeah, they like what they see.

“We’ve got some celebrating to do,” Matt tells him. “This guy hit his first professional home run, and it was a walk-off winner, at that.”

“Damn, congratulations, man,” the bouncer says, slapping my shoulder.

“Thanks,” I tell him as the door to the club opens. The music pours from the open doors as we step through, then immediately head up the stairs to the VIP lounge. While I don’t mind hanging out in the central area, being that it is a Friday night, the VIP lounge is probably a better place for us to be. Plus, they’ll have a better liquor selection and prettier bartenders.

“Evening, gentlemen, I’m Savannah; what can I get the two of you tonight?” one of the servers asks as we approach a table.

“Whiskey on the rocks,” Matt tells her, then points to me as if he’s asking what I want to drink. “First round is on me,” he says.

“In that case, I’ll take a bottle of Dom Perignon,” I tell the server.

“Right away, gentlemen.” She smiles at both of us and heads straight for the bar to put in our order.

“Fucker, I see how it is; had to order an entire bottle when it’s my tab.” He chuckles.

“Damn straight,” I tell him. I look out over the dance floor, eyeing a few groups of girls that I’ll keep a watch on to see if anyone might be interested in some company. I need to get laid. It's been a few weeks since I went home with that stripper, and I need some release.

“I’ve got your drinks here for you. Did either of you want to order anything from the kitchen?” she offers. Only the VIP lounge at this club provides a small kitchen with some appetizer-style offerings.

“I’m good for now,” I tell her as Matt also waves her offer off. “Thanks.” I flash her a smile, the one that I know drops women’s panties at my feet. The lights might be dimmed in here, but I can still see the blush her cheeks flush and know that she’ll be putty in my hands before the night is over, if I want.

“If either of you needs anything else, just flag me down,” she says, stepping away then stopping at the next table to check on them.

“To your first of many home runs,” Matt says, holding up his tumbler of Whiskey to clink against my flute of champagne. I swallow down the small amount of bubbly goodness, the bubbles tickling my nose slightly. I top my glass off from the bottle our server placed in an ice bucket next to the table and tip it back just as quickly as I did the first.

“You on the prowl tonight?” I ask Matt once we’ve