"Bringing the Heat" - A M/M Baseball Short Story

Hi Sinners!

I have a male/male baseball player short story in HUNGRY FOR MORE, a Cleis Press anthology out today (August 12). Enjoy an excerpt below and then order your copy from any online book retailer or pick up a copy at SheBop in Portland, Oregon. Editor Rachel Kramer Bussel and I will be reading and signing there September 10th at 7:30 P.M.

Happy reading, Sinners! Go, Devils, Go!

"Bringing the Heat"

by Tiffany Reisz

EXCERPT

It took a while but finally Jada found the Devils’ locker room. The game was still on so it looked deserted. Minor league teams clearly didn’t have the money for anything as fancy as security guards.

Inside the locker room, Jada nosed around. Nothing much to see. Just lockers, shoes, dirty uniforms, and towels strewn everywhere. Wandering into the shower room, she smiled at all the hair product laying around. Straight or gay, all men wanted to look good. Jada froze when she heard voices—two of men, both male. Not wanting to get arrested for trespassing, she hid in one of the shower stalls.

Two men stepped into the shower area—one in uniform, the other in black track pants and a white t-shirt.

“Is it bad?” the man in track pants asked. “Where’s it hurt?”

“Inner thigh. I think it’s just a strain,” said the younger player—number 29 himself, Flak Gordon.

“Let’s make sure it’s nothing worse.”

They stepped into the room right across from the shower stalls. Through the other side of the curtain, Jada could peer in and see everything. It seemed to be some kind of therapy room. A padded leather table only about four feet high constituted the only furniture in the room. A plaque on the door read “Evan Christopher, Sports Therapist.”

Flak started to strip out of his uniform. Jada winced at the black bruise that covered the left side of his back where the fastball had struck him. Other than the bruise, however, Flak’s body was flawless—broad shoulders, well-muscled and sturdy, and yet not an ounce of fat on him. A young man’s body. The trainer, Evan, was sexy in his own right too. Slightly taller and about five years older, Evan wore wire-rimmed glasses on his handsome, intelligent face and had a seductive five o’clock shadow on his sculpted lower jaw.

Evan handed Flak a towel. The ballplayer, now completely naked, lay flat on his back on the table. He covered his groin with the towel, which made Jada almost groan with frustration. She couldn’t see the action through a damn towel.

At the sink, Evan washed his hands and doused them with some kind of liquid. He slid his hands under the towel and started to massage Flak’s left inner thigh.

“Did you slide?”  

“Like a motherfucker,” Flak said.

Evan grinned. “Hope it was worth it.”

“We won.”

“Then it was worth it. How’s this feel?” Evan asked as his hand slid deeper under the towel.

“Good,” Flak said, slightly panting.

“Good?”

“I mean, it hurts.” Flak seemed to realize “Good” was not the right answer. “I mean your hand...fuck.”

Flak glanced down and Jada noticed that the towel over his groin had risen a few inches.

Evan didn’t miss a beat.

“Happens all the time. Don’t worry about it.”

"I’m sorry.”       

“Don’t be,” Evan said, still massaging Flak’s inner thigh. “The straightest guys on the planet get erections during massages and therapy. Especially on groin muscles. I won’t take it personally.”

“Thanks, Evan.” Flak laid his head back down again. His chest heaved with a slow breath. He seemed to be willing his erection away. It wasn’t working.

“Unless it is personal.”

“What?”

Evan stared straight at Flak with a little smile on his lips.

“I’ve been counting, Flak. This is the fifth time you’ve come to me with injuries in the past two weeks. You step into heaters, slide when you don’t need to slide...Are you trying to get on my table?”

Flak didn’t answer at first.

“You know I’m gay, right?” Evan asked, his voice soft and soothing. “I don’t care if you’re into me or just into playing hard on the field, but if you’re getting yourself hurt so I’ll touch you, that’s got to stop. Now are you really hurt or are you just trying to get my attention?”

“I don’t know. Do I have your attention?” Flak asked. Jada ached with sympathy. She could hear the uncertainty in his voice.

“Does this answer your question?” Evan moved his hand under the towel and Flak’s shoulders rose off the massage table.

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