Benched: Volumes 4-6 Boxed Set Read online

  Contents

  Title Page

  Welcome to the Benched Series!

  Copyright

  BENCHED #4: SCORING POSITION

  BENCHED #5: GROUND RULES

  BENCHED #6: RAIN DELAY

  More by Misha Horne

  You Might Also Like: Old School Discipline

  You Might Also Like: Not So Smart

  You Might Also Like: Working Out the Kinks

  About the Author

  BENCHED

  VOLUMES 4-6

  Misha Horne

  INCLUDES:

  Benched #4: Scoring Position

  Benched #5: Ground Rules

  Benched #6: Rain Delay

  ABOUT THE BENCHED SERIES

  Kyle Kelley is a center fielder with an ego as big as his potential. He’s always been the star of his team, the star of his school, the star of his town. Natural talent mixed with nepotism meant he never had to work hard if he didn’t feel like it. But, college is different.

  No one’s willing to ignore a rookie’s bad attitude, and when Kyle gets his first ever taste of discipline, he discovers a part of himself he never knew existed. A part that craves structure and consequences and good, hard spankings. When his gorgeous teammate Juno discovers Kyle’s secret kink, things get a lot more complicated… and a lot more exciting.

  Benched is a 9 part erotic romance series that follows Kyle Kelley, a cocky college freshman, as he struggles with a baseball coach he thinks is way too tough, a team that's not sure he deserves to be there, parents who have no clue who he is, a first love that takes him completely by surprise.

  This is a sweet, dirty, kinky college romance about falling in love, finding your spot, and learning to make adjustments. And spanking. Seriously, there's lots of spanking.

  This boxed set includes books 4-6 in the series: Scoring Position, Ground Rules, and Rain Delay.

  Copyright © 2016 Misha Horne

  All rights reserved.

  www.mishahorne.com

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. No part of this publication may be reproduced or resold. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Join the Misha Horne mailing list

  BENCHED #4

  SCORING POSITION

  Kyle was tempted to believe he was still drunk, or that through his dry eyes and the glare of way too bright overhead lights in the hallway, he wasn’t really seeing what was right in front of him. There was no reason in hell for Mackey to be outside his dorm room ass early on a Sunday morning. Or whatever day it was. Yeah, Sunday.

  Except, there was.

  “You need to pick up your fucking phone when I call you,” Mackey said in a quiet voice. “Being on my team is like being on call. You always answer your goddamn phone.” Mackey gave zero indication that anything seemed out of the ordinary, aside from the way his eyes twitched, the angry squint impossible to hide, no matter how calm the rest of him appeared.

  Kyle shifted in the doorway, crossing and uncrossing his arms, basically hiding nothing. He wasn’t sure if it would be smarter to invite Mackey inside, or step out into the hall in his underwear. It probably didn’t matter. Mackey didn’t seem to give a shit that he was barely dressed, that Juno was sprawled in his bed right inside the door. He was pissed about something else entirely. So, Kyle just kept moving his weight from one foot to the other, trying to tell himself that everything was perfectly fine.

  “Oh. Um, sorry. It broke. My phone.” Scraping the words out of his dry throat was almost impossible, and didn’t sound much like actual speech.

  “You know who called me this morning?” Mackey didn’t wait for an answer. “Jeff Miller.”

  Being hungover was a bitch, Kyle was quickly finding out. He was sure he knew that name, it just seemed to be stuck under a pile of glass when he went digging for it.

  “You want to imagine the call I woke up to? Him bitching to me at six a.m. that half my team attacked his golden boy pitcher last night? And that some punk rookie tried to break his hand?”

  Right. Okie’s coach. That Jeff Miller. His brain spun in dark, blurry circles as it struggled to catch up to what Mackey was saying. Which was just, words… so many fucking words.

  “Wait, he said what? You mean me? No, I didn’t.”

  “Your face isn’t doing a lot to back you up,” Mackey said flatly.

  Kyle rubbed a hand across his lip anxiously. It hurt, hurt a lot more when he actually touched it, and the pain seemed to turn his brain back on, pieces of the night before coming back into focus as his memories warmed up.

  “Are you alright?” Mackey asked him. “Are you hurt?” It was the first thing he’d said that was remotely nice, and it was sort of too nice, the pendulum swinging so quickly it made Kyle sick to his stomach. He shook his head, and then instantly wished he hadn’t. It might have been nice to have that sympathy card.

  “Look, I mean, I was there. But it was just me, nobody else, not half the team, that’s just stupid. And anyway, it wasn’t my—”

  Mackey was stomping out the words before they even existed, back to being so pissed he was practically foaming at the mouth. He managed to keep his voice level, but just barely. “Don’t you dare feed me that shit again. I’ve heard it. It’s never your fault.”

  “It wasn’t,” Kyle repeated. Even though it probably was. Even though he’d known better, and just wanted to fight anyway. It wasn’t like Mackey knew that.

  “I want you in my office in an hour with a much better explanation than that. One. Hour.” Mackey’s eyes flicked behind him for the first time, before flicking back, expressionless. “Both of you.”

  * * *

  Kyle closed the door behind him, leaning back heavily against it.

  “The fuck was that about?” Juno mumbled, reaching his arm out from under the pillow to motion Kyle back over to the bed.

  Kyle just shook his head. It was too much. Too much to explain, too much to think about.

  “Come on. Come here, gorgeous.”

  “He’s gonna kill me,” Kyle said, rubbing his head with one hand, as he crossed the room, looking blindly for his clothes.

  “No one’s gonna kill you.” Juno shifted up on his elbow, frowning. “No one’s gonna touch you.”

  “You don’t understand.”

  “Well explain it to me, then. But do it while you’re lying on top of me.”

  “I can’t. I need—”

  “You need to get over here right now, rook,” Juno said, finally dropping his voice to the level that made Kyle squirm and feel safe all at once. That made him respond without a choice, without even thinking. Gratefully, he stopped digging through his laundry and crawled back into the narrow bed. He let Juno lift him and settle him on top of his warm body, relaxing as he wrapped an arm around him. “Better?”

  “My head hurts,” he whispered.

  “I bet it does,” Juno said, threading his hand through Kyle’s hair gently. “You had a lot to drink. Too much.”

  “And my ass hurts.”

  Juno laughed, his chest rising and falling under Kyle’s head. “It better. I laid into you pretty good.”

  “Yeah. So good.”

  “How’s your mouth?” Juno reached up and found Kyle’s lip, rubbing his thumb across it gently.

  “Hurts.”

  “Well, you’re just falling apart. Lemme see.”

  Kyle shoved up on his elbows and stuck his bottom lip out in an exaggerated pout.

  Juno snorted, tapping gently on the swollen skin. “We should have put ice on it.”

  “No fridge,” Kyle poin
ted out.

  “Yeah, I noticed. What do you live on when you’re here?”

  “Pizza.”

  “Kyle. You-”

  “I know, carbs are sugar. No lecture, fuck. I’m not eating pizza now, am I?” He groaned and rolled off Juno’s chest, groaning again when he hit the mattress. He seemed to have a headache in every part of his body. “Don’t you ever just shut up?”

  He still wasn’t used to the way Juno could lift him, move him around like he was weightless, and his breath caught in his throat when Juno slipped an arm underneath him and practically threw him back into place on top of him.

  “You want to try that again?”

  Kyle grunted and closed his eyes, willing the day to rewind and start over.

  “What is going on? Why was he here?”

  “He knows about last night.”

  “He knows what about last night?”

  “About the fight. Burkett ratted me out. Not just me, all of us. And he said I tried to break his hand.”

  “Oh. Well, you didn’t, did you?

  “No! I mean, I don’t think so. I hit him in the face, right? I thought.”

  “Well, there you go, then. You pissed him off, made him look stupid, twice, and now he’s trying to fuck you.”

  “Fuck. I’m so fucked. I could lose my spot, right? Could I go to jail?”

  Juno teased his hand softly down the back of his head “Calm down. No one’s going to jail. If he’s not actually hurt, nothing’s gonna happen. It’ll blow over.”

  “Mackey’s really pissed.”

  Juno sighed. “Yeah. Well, that part might not blow over as fast.”

  “He said we have to be in his office in an hour. You too. He saw you. I mean, he saw you.”

  “Okay, so he saw me. Mackey’s a dick, but he doesn’t care about that stuff. Is that what has you so worked up?”

  Kyle shook his head.

  “What is it, then?”

  “I was really fucking stupid. I mean, something really bad could have happened. I mean, I just… I didn’t mean to.”

  “I know.” Juno stroked a hand over his ass, sliding his fingers inside the legs of his briefs, where most of last night’s sting still remained, warm and cupped close to his body. “And you’re not going to do anything like that again, are you?”

  “No. But…” He dropped his voice to a whisper, embarrassment so close to the surface it coated his eyelashes with tears. “He said the next time I got in trouble he’d paddle me.”

  “Oh. Well, that’s not gonna happen.”

  Kyle lifted his head. “What do you mean?”

  “You’ve been punished. I spanked you, and I meant it, no matter how hot it was. It’s over.”

  “That doesn’t count.”

  “It counts. And it’s done now. We’re gonna go to his office and find out what the deal is. Mackey’s not a fan of the underage drinking thing, so, he’s probably gonna bitch. At all of us. Especially you. But he’s not going to touch you. Anymore. At all.”

  “But—”

  “Do you want to get paddled?”

  Kyle shook his head, lying like crazy, trying not to imagine it, trying not to think about how it would feel, and sound, what kind of marks it would leave on his skin.

  Juno slid a hand down the back of his shorts, pinching his sensitive flesh.

  Kyle jumped.

  “You’re not lying, are you, rook?”

  “No.”

  “Good. Because, listen. This Mackey thing? It’s done.”

  “Done how?”

  “Just done. You need to be punished, I’ll punish you. I don’t want his hands on you.”

  “But—”

  “No choice. Okay, one choice. Him or me. I’m not going to share you anymore.”

  It wasn’t that he hadn’t expected this, exactly. Having his cake and eating it too had been going on a little long already. He just maybe hadn’t expected it today.

  “It’s not about that, though, with Mackey. It’s not… like that.”

  “No? Because it was like that a few days ago from what I remember. It was like that the first night you went home with me and you told me you were jerking off to his picture.”

  “That was different. And I still went home with you, anyway.”

  “Why do I get the feeling you’re just fighting for the sake of fighting? I don’t even know what argument you’re trying to make.”

  “I’m saying it’s different. You do it because I like it. And you like it.” He dropped his voice to a hush. “He does it because I’m bad.”

  “But it still turns you on.”

  “I can’t help that.”

  “I believe you. But I’m not going to let him spank you any more than I’m going to let him blow you. You get off on it, and I’m not cool with that. I don’t think that’s unreasonable, Kyle.”

  He knew it wasn’t. He knew it was actually completely reasonable. That still didn’t make him want to argue any less.

  “So you expect me to just tell him that?”

  “No, I don’t. You’re not gonna say a damn word. I’m gonna tell him that you’re off limits now.”

  His whole being burned, somewhere between furious and delirious, the idea of letting Juno be in charge, of telling Mackey how things were going to be, seemed impossible. Humiliating. Beyond sexy. But mostly, just back around to impossible.

  “He’s not gonna let you just do that. Let you tell him what to do.”

  “Let me worry about that. You should be worried about what I’m gonna do with you for making me spend my morning in Mackey’s office, instead of staying here, kissing all your sore spots.”

  “Juno—”

  “Nope. Done talking about it. Quiet time now.”

  Juno clamped a hand over his mouth, which might have led to who knows what, but quiet time was interrupted pretty much immediately when Juno’s phone started buzzing. As he reached back to grab it, Kyle scrambled out of bed, one eye on the clock as he pulled mostly clean clothes from his closet.

  “Hey,” Juno hissed. “Where are you going? Come back here.” He glanced down at his phone. “It’s Moss.”

  “Great.”

  As Juno answered the phone, Kyle yanked off his briefs, realizing for the first time that he hadn’t just been standing in front of Mackey getting yelled at in his underwear, but in his cum stained underwear. Which wasn’t embarrassing in the slightest. He tossed them near the box that served as a hamper, at least in theory, and pulled on his jeans, only half listening to the conversation until his name came up.

  “Yeah. Hey, come pick us up, huh, my car’s still in the lot. I crashed at Kelley’s.” He stared as Juno rubbed his eyes, laughing like he didn’t even realize he’d just said something monumentally stupid. “Okay, just drop it off, then. He’s in the 406 building.”

  Kyle gaped as he hung up. “Did you just tell him?”

  Juno looked up, surprised, running his hands through his short hair, bringing last night’s pomade back to life. “Well, that depends on what you mean by tell him. I told him I crashed at your place. Not that I spanked you so hard you couldn’t stand up straight.”

  A strangled sound slipped through Kyle’s lips as he turned away and buttoned his jeans over the hard on that had suddenly swelled enormously.

  “Rook, I’m not planning on telling anyone anything. You don’t have to freak out.”

  Kyle wasn’t sure if he was supposed to be offended. Honestly, he felt mostly relieved. He really didn’t feel like suddenly becoming campus gossip. Which made him feel guilty. Was that supposed to be his responsibility now? All he wanted was a boyfriend. Fuck, his head hurt. It wasn’t just the hangover anymore. He was tense as fuck, and the pains were shooting up the sides of his skull.

  He turned back around, folding his arms over his bare chest. “Why not? Why won’t you tell anyone? Am I like your dirty secret?”

  “Don’t be a brat, Kyle. That’s not funny.”

  “Well, how do you know I don’t want
to tell everyone?”

  Juno paused. “Do you really want to have this conversation? I’ll have it.”

  Kyle knew he was waiting for him to say something, but he really didn’t have much. He was great at starting arguments, not so much keeping them going. He shrugged, his fall back mode of communication.

  “I think you get that if we start telling people, then people will know,” Juno said, watching him, almost suspiciously.

  “No kidding?”

  “Don’t. Don’t do the smartass thing. You wanted to be serious, I’m being serious. I’m not talking about just people around here, I mean like people everywhere.”

  “What people?”

  “People who are interested in a gay baseball player. Which is way more interesting than just a baseball player, or just a guy who’s gay. It’s something that would affect your future.”

  “What are you, my manager? What about your future?”

  Juno waved the question away. “My future’s a non issue. I’m not going anywhere. I’m a mid-level guy. I get it, I’m over it. But you might make it further. You probably will. Either way, you’re just barely a freshman. And if you want to tell people, you better understand what’s going to happen when you do. It stops being about baseball and starts being about you liking guys. You can’t take it back.”

  “You always say that.”

  “Say what?”

  “You’re always talking about not being able to take things back. But we’re already doing something we can’t take back. It’s not like you can even take anything back, so that doesn’t even make sense.”

  “All I’m saying is you want to think about the things you say, and who you say them to, or you might end up with more attention than even you can handle, rook.”

  “I’m not stupid.”

  “Of course you’re not stupid. But you have a very big fucking mouth and very little self control.”

  “Whatever.”

  “This isn’t a whatever conversation. It’s also not a conversation to have when you’re obviously just trying to be a brat.”

  “Oh.”

  “Yeah, oh. You’re not subtle. You want to pick a fight just to get yourself in trouble, how about you pick something a little less serious next time.”