Kia Ora...

This week has been a mixed week emotionally. At the beginning of the week I was excited about my soft launch of my subscription site with Ream Stories and exceeding my target of 30k words on Bishop (Crime Lords 5) before my dd got home from uni for mid-semester break. Unfortunately all of that was cratered with the news that my grandmother had died in the early hours of Wednesday morning (my time), she was 92yrs old. Her health had started to decline, but I still felt unprepared for the idea that she was no longer a part of my life... but I will take solace in the fact that my last memory of her, she was smiling and having a laugh with my youngest daughter.

My dd, as mentioned, is home on mid-semester break and we'll be trying to shove as many activities into this short week as we can... weather dependent.

Updates

Naomi Aoki

• Have started writing a serialised story for my subscription site on Ream Stories. This will be Mitsui's long awaited story.

Mandy Greenwood

• Bishop is currently sitting at over 26k, 4k short of where I'd hoped to be. I do have the next few chapters kind of planned out, so that should hopefully speed up the process.
• I have started to brainstorming ideas for another charity anthology contribution. Details to come as we are allowed to share them!
• The rewrite of Love You Forever, Drayce is almost finished.

MJ Green

• I have submitted my story for the O Deadly Night Anthology 2. If you haven't preordered already, make sure you do as it will only be released for a limited time.
• Defrocked (House of Bolton Novella) has also been slipped into my writing schedule. Currently I'm rewriting chapters as the pacing wasn't quite how I wanted it.

O Deadly Night Anthology 2 - Update

Recently it has come to our attention that our chosen charity may be involved in some wrongful work practices. Because of this, we have decided to donate our royalties from the anthology to a different charity. The charity we’ve chosen is It Gets Better and you can learn more about them here: itgetsbetter.org

We hope that understand this decision and that you’ll continue to share and support us in this effort to help LGBT+ youth.

Preorder: mybook.to/ODN2

Bloggers sign up to help us share: bit.ly/3Qq9q8J

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Just as I was launching my site, a few readers began to voice their complaints/concerns about authors having subscription sites... which didn't exactly make me feel good about something I knew I needed to do. And it wasn't as though making the decision to create a membership community was easy to make when I'd already put it off for years... just deciding on pricing of the different tiers was difficult, caught between wanting to make it affordable while also not giving away my writing hours for free.

But what I can assure you is that any serialised story, like Running for Home (Switch Hitters 1) will be published upon completion. Bonus stories, if I get enough of them for each series, will have the possibility of being released in some fashion.

And a lot of the other content listed in the tiers... well, if I wasn't getting paid for it, it wouldn't get written. There are only so many limited hours in the day to be spent writing.

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Chapter Twenty-One

“What you do—or don’t do—reflects back on me.”

Wincing, Jordan averted his gaze from Mike. He couldn’t claim that his husband was wrong, yet it hadn’t even been a consideration when Jordan had snuck out practice. Well, it might’ve briefly flittered through his mind before being dismissed. The team were used to his practice avoidance manoeuvres and Jordan didn’t think his teammates—or the coaching and management staff—would’ve expected that to change simply because Mike was the new Pitching Coach. But maybe he’d thought wrong.

“Fuck… I barely even considered that.” He shoved a hand through his hair while offering Mike an apologetic smile. “And I’m guessing an apology blow job is out of the question.”

Mike arched an eyebrow and pressed his lips into a thin line, restraining the smile Jordan could see reflected in his husband’s eyes. “Not… not here at least.”

“Oh? So, if we were in another location… then it’d be alright?” Jordan asked, barely keeping the surprise at Mike’s response from his voice. He’d been expecting a flat out rejection of the offer.

The smile Mike had been trying to keep restrained broke free along with an amused snort while tipping his head back to stare at the roof of the equipment shed. Jordan could easily imagine the thoughts racing through Mike’s mind… the memories of all the times when they’d fooled around in the past during practice sessions. There weren’t many places in the team’s training facility where they hadn’t snuck in a teasing grope… a kiss or two… and if they were lucky, at least one of them got blown. Of course, there was also the times when Jordan had apologised to Mike for his infuriating antics during practice once they were home behind closed doors.

“I don’t… know about that”—lowering his gaze to meet Jordan’s, a faint hint of blush stained Mike’s cheeks while his eyes were now filled with a confusing mix of desire and fear—“it sounds more like a reward than a punishment.”

“Hmm…but its one that would benefit us both.” Jordan took a step toward Mike, desperate to close the distance between them.

“Yeah… still not seeing where the apology part comes into it.” Mike hooked his thumbs into the beltloops of his pants and drew Jordan’s gaze lower.

Fuck he loved seeing Mike wearing the tight pants of a baseballer again. Especially because his husband preferred the more traditional pants-tucked-into-socks look that only highlighted the definition of his legs—shapely calves and thick as fuck thighs. Jordan was tempted to demand that Mike turned around so that he could appreciate the way the pants clung to his husband’s arse. Except he doubted Mike would be impressed by the request while they were still here at Switch Hitters home base.

“I might be the one needing to apologise”—inhaling sharply as he sunk his teeth into his bottom lip and yanked his gaze away from Mike’s crotch, the effect of their playful banter on his husband clear to see—“but their nothing to say that we can’t both enjoy it.”

Sighing heavily, Mike rubbed his jaw and took a step back toward the door of the shed. “I was going to suggest that coach put you in as the starting pitcher for the next game… but maybe I need to revise that plan. You’ve got to put in the work Jordan. All of it. Not just in the bullpen.” Mike grabbed a hold of the door, drumming his fingers on the metal while staring hard at Jordan. “But then…you know all this. You’re a senior member of the team now, and there really isn’t any excuse for not following through on the prescribed practice schedules.”

“Seriuosly?” Jordan gasped. “We’ve gone from me offering to blow you in apology for skiving off… to you threatening to bench me. That’s a bit drastic, don’t you think?”

Mike smirked. “Nope. I think it’s totally fair. No other member of the team would get away with what you do without copping serious consequences… And if the other members of the team can’t use blow jobs as a means of apology, I don’t see why you should be able to either.”

Stunned, Jordan could only watch as Mike disappeared out of sight while his threats lingered heavily in the air. No one had ever threatened to bench him before… okay that wasn’t entirely true, there’d been a couple of times in the past, but Mike had always argued the punishment being levelled at him was too harsh. Seemed rather rich that Mike was now the one suggesting the same thing their past coaches had.

And fuck it.

He was the team’s number one pitcher.

No one was capable of filling his spot. Not if the team wanted to keep winning…convincingly. And that was with the regular alternate pitcher. If Mike benched him this weekend then who the fuck was going to take to the mound? The alternate pitcher had already played two seven inning games in a row while Jordan had been resting his shoulder… he couldn’t play this weekend.

Cursing his husband out—and not being particularly quiet about it—Jordan picked up the balls he’d pitched into the net and tossed them back into the bucket. After making sure he’d gathered them all up, he stormed out the equipment shed and slammed the door shut behind him. It hadn’t been a smart decision Jordan quickly realised as the Head Coach bellowed at him from across the field where he was putting the fielders and batters through their paces. Wincing, he waved Coach off and rushed through the main building of the training facility while avoiding as many of his teammates as he could.

Jordan walked into the changing rooms, yanked his locker open and hurriedly changed back into street clothes. If Mike was going to threaten to bench him, then it may as well be for a worthwhile reason. Two hours still remained of their allotted practice time, that is if Jordan intended to follow Mike’s orders and do the required conditioning training that he’d laid out for them.

Yeah… Jordan had no such plans.

He scooped his gear into his bag and marched out the front door of the building, not surprised that no one had tried to stop him. No one very did. Nor was he surprised to see that Mike’s car was no longer in the carpark. His husband had made it clear that he was operating on shortened days until he’d gotten used to being in a baseball environment again.

But the question, Jordan thought while drumming his fingers on the steering wheel, was where the fuck had Mike gone?

*

Chuckling to himself, Mike walked through the door of his apartment and tossed his keys onto the table by the door. Jordan had to be steaming right now over the threat Mike had laid down especially when in the past he’d often against such punishments being levelled at his husband. But his reasons at the time had less to do with sticking up for his husband—who could really do with learning that practices can’t be skipped out on—and his own selfish desire to catch Jordan’s pitches during games. In hindsight, Mike wished he’d backed the coaching staff up more and ensured Jordan did all the requisite conditioning that wasn’t simply a few laps of the field instead of indulging him.

And now that he was the Pitching Coach… Jordan’s days of skiving off were over.

Did he think Jordan was going to easily accept that? Of course, fucking not. Hell, Mike didn’t believe Jordan would remain at training after he’d delivered the threat of not playing while also refusing the apology blow job. Although Mike had to admit that last one had been hard to turn down… hard not to let Jordan drop to his knees in the equipment shed and swallow down his cock. And his refusing—resisting—the blow job had more to do with the location than what was being offered. Mike didn’t think his new bosses would appreciate him accepting blow jobs from members of the team, husband or not.

What Jordan would do once he left practice… Mike wasn’t entirely sure. A part of him hoped that his husband would seek him out, anger and disbelief driving him forward. Then again, Mike wasn’t interested in getting into an argument with Jordan… one that his husband had no chance of winning. Because if Jordan refused to accept Mike’s instructions as a coach then neither of them were going to come out as winners.

Jordan needed to separate Mike the Coach, from Mike his Husband or their marriage was as good as doomed. Worse than that… it wasn’t Mike’s job that was on the line if Jordan continued to rebel against the directions of the coaching staff and management…but Jordan’s. That had been made perfectly clear by Su-Jin when he’d intercepted Mike on his way out of the training facility.

Mike was their preferred person for the Pitching Coach position while an uncooperative starting pitcher could easily be traded. Su-Jin didn’t hesitate to point out that only reason Jordan hadn’t been traded already had been because of Mike. He and Aidan had chosen not to make any drastic changes to the team in light of the devastating way that Mike had been forced to leave the team. However, that amnesty was now over. They would do whatever was necessary to ensure that the best roster of players for the Switch Hitters…and while yes they could appreciate Jordan’s talent on the mound, his attitude off it was less than desirable.

And so, for that reason alone, Mike hoped Jordan tracked him down and then he’d impress upon Jordan just how fragile his position within the team was.

Better for his husband to rant about here in Mike’s apartment than back at the stadium where anyone could hear Jordan’s complaints.

*****

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