Spring Training (13 page)

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Authors: Roz Lee

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Sports, #Romance, #Contemporary

BOOK: Spring Training
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“Yeah, that’s true. He did okay. He’s no Todd Stevens, but he’s good.”

“I don’t move as fast as I used to.” Especially after a night of subbing to a Dominatrix who delighted in taking everything he had from him.

“Speed isn’t everything. You know the game better than anyone, and you sure as shit hit better than him.”

Todd grunted his agreement. Not that it mattered. If management had their mind made up, he’d have little choice but to go along.

“Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but I thought you should know.”

“Thanks. I appreciate the information.”

Shortly after the men returned to the condo, Jason and Carrie said their goodbyes. Todd was relieved to see them go. He’d loved showing off his slave to friends, but watching her perform her hostess duties sans clothing had him on edge.

Taking a seat on the sofa, he crooked his finger at her. “Come here, slave.”

Brooke immediately complied, sinking to her knees between his spread thighs. What he wanted shouldn’t be a surprise to her. Due to her condition, he hadn’t fucked her since their scene with Mistress Lola, choosing to relieve himself in her mouth nightly. Denying her an orgasm for the same length of time had been deliberate. He wanted her strung tight with need the next time they saw Mistress Lola, but he hadn’t anticipated how difficult denying her would be on him. There wasn’t anything in the world he loved more than watching her orgasm.

As she worked his zipper down and took him into her mouth, he made her a promise. “When you’re through, I’m going to make you scream my name.”

God, her mouth felt good. He gripped the back of the sofa with one hand while the other held her hair away from her face so he could watch. Every so often, she’d stop what she was doing to lick him from base to tip with her wickedly talented tongue, and every time, she glanced up at him as if to confirm what he knew to be true—
he
was a slave to
her
. There wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do for her as long as she continued to offer her body to him.

“Christ, babe. You’re killing me.” He applied pressure to the back of her head. She smiled then obediently took him to the back of her throat.

Within seconds, pleasure blinded him to everything but the love he felt for his woman. She captured his balls in her hand, rolling and tugging on them. His orgasm came at him like a fastball gone wild, spinning his head around and setting him on his ass.

She swallowed every drop then rested her cheek on his thigh while he gasped for air and willed his world to stop going in crazy circles.

“You slay me, girl.”

“In a good way, Sir?”

“Always. Any better and I’d be dead.” He laughed at his own joke as he sat straighter. “Did I scream like a girl?”

“No, Sir. It was a nice scream, though.”

“You are a minx sometimes, girl.” She scooted out of his way as he stood to right his clothes. “It’s time to make you scream, and it had better be a good one. Hustle, girl. Bring the wrist cuffs and the lube.”

He admired her ass as she ran to the bedroom to collect the items he requested. Her quick return said as much about her obedience as it did about her state of arousal. He tossed the lube on the sofa then, taking the cuffs from her, he fastened them around her wrists before linking them together.

Hands on her waist, he lifted her off her feet for a kiss. She looped her arms around his neck, freeing him to palm her ass. “I’ve been dying to add my handprint to the stripes on your ass.” He trailed kisses down the slope of her neck as he massaged her butt. “You’ll tell me if it’s too much.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Her breathless reply made his dick twitch, but this portion of the evening was for her. He tamped down his growing arousal. “Good girl.” He lifted her higher. “Arms down.”

When she was on her feet, he sat on the sofa. “Lay across my lap.” He helped her balance herself then he took his time, tracing individual lines with a fingertip. Brushing her hair to one side, he rubbed the tension from her shoulders.

“You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he said. “So very strong, too. You put me to shame, Brooke.”

“I’m strong because you love me, Master.”

“I need to spank you, babe. I need it so bad. Are you well enough to take it?”

“Yes, Sir.” She wiggled her ass. “Please, Sir. I need it, too.”

With one hand on her nape, he skimmed the other along her spine to her ass. Splaying his fingers, he dipped the middle one into her crack then slipped lower until he found her moist center. When he slid the digit inside, she gasped.

“You’re wet, babe, but I bet I can make you wetter.” A soft moan told him all he needed to know. She was ready and eager for his touch. He withdrew from her in order to caress her sweet ass. The lotion he’d rubbed in twice a day since the whipping had eliminated the welts, leaving her skin as soft as silk and cool to the touch. He would soon remedy the latter.

“This is not discipline or punishment, girl. I’m going to spank you for my pleasure and yours.” Without further warning, he landed a blow on her right cheek.

Other than a tiny whimper, she remained quiet. He took a moment to admire his handprint on her skin before adding nine more in quick succession.

Years ago, before Frank had shown him the truth—that he wasn’t alone in his needs—he would have berated himself for being turned on by marking a woman. But those days were long behind him. There wasn’t much he enjoyed more than fucking Brooke’s ass warmed with his handprints.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful.” He plumped her buttocks, massaging their fullness in his palm. “Don’t move,” he said, removing his hand from her nape to spread her wide while locating the lube she’d brought with his free hand. A shiver raced down her spine as the cool liquid met her heated skin.

“I love to play with your asshole.” With a firm touch, he worked the lubricant into the tight bud. He slipped one finger inside her, slowly working the slippery substance into her. Her breathing grew shallow, yet there wasn’t an ounce of resistance in her body. Her submission fucking amazed him.
What did I ever do to deserve you, sweetheart?

Adding another finger, he stretched her. Lately, he’d been thinking of new ways to explore her inner recesses as well as her capacity to experience pleasure. “You can’t even imagine the depraved things I want to do to your ass, babe, but right now, I want to fuck it. I want to ram my cock inside your tight ass and ride you hard.” He inserted a third finger, working the digits to prepare her.

When he positioned her on the sofa, her body was putty in his hands. He stroked his cock through her damp folds, each time making sure to drag his length over her clit until she perched on the brink of orgasm. Positioning the head of his cock against her back door, he held her steady with hands on her hips. He pushed into her, cursing as her body yielded to his invasion.

“Christ, you’re tight and hot.” Savoring every inch gained, he continued pressing forward until she’d taken all of him. Sweat broke out on his forehead. He wiped it away with his forearm then returned his hand to her hip. Since his experiences with Mistress Lola, he had a new appreciation for the gift Brooke bestowed on him. Allowing him to have her in this way was the ultimate sublimation, so personal, so private. It warmed him to his soul.

Emotion overwhelmed him as he stared at the point of their joining, framed by his handprints red on her creamy skin. He couldn’t possibly care for her any more than he did at that moment. “I love you, Brooke. More than you can ever comprehend.”

Her answer was a long sigh as she pressed back against him. He withdrew, a breath catching in his throat as the head of his cock popped free. With one sure stroke, he pushed back inside. He fucked her, hard and fast, his teeth clenched in an effort to prolong the exquisite torture of her tight chamber. Her love, her trust, were all there in her quiet submission.

Reaching beneath her, he rubbed her clit, applying the pressure he knew she needed. Sweet Jesus, she was perfect, gasping, moaning, her body giving while seeking its own pleasure. “Take it, babe. Find it.”

Her orgasm was a thing of beauty, her body convulsing around his, draining him while her cries filled him with pride and satisfaction.

He pulled her up so her back was to his chest and held her there while his cock softened inside her. “You’re all I ever need, babe.”

She tilted her head to one side, allowing him access to her neck.

“And more than I deserve.” He trailed kisses down to her shoulder.

 

 

 

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

 

Todd stared at the line-up card hanging on the back wall of the dugout. For the third straight game, he wasn’t starting. Turning, his gaze locked with Jason Holder’s. The catcher shrugged helplessly then bent to fasten his shin guards into place.

Doyle Walker, the Mustangs’ manager, entered the dugout. Todd headed straight for him. “Doyle, can I have a minute?”

“That’s about all I’ve got, Stevens.” The older man stepped onto the field, signaling Todd to follow. “Walk with me out to the bullpen. Something’s up with Rogers.”

“He’s okay, isn’t he?” They were already short one pitcher. They didn’t need to be down another one before the season even began.

“I think he has his head up his ass, but other than that, he’s fine. What do you want?”

“I want to know why I’m not starting.”

“Because we need to get Matthews up to speed. He needs time on the field,” the team manager answered without breaking stride.

“So he won’t trip over his own feet after you trade me?”

“Where did you hear that?”

“I didn’t have to hear it. I’m not stupid, Doyle. I’ve been in this business long enough to know the score.”

“Then you know you have a No-Trade clause in your contract.”

“Which isn’t worth the ink used to print it if you want me out.” They came to a stop on the outfield warning track.

“We don’t want you out, Todd. You’re the Mustangs’ third baseman.” Doyle lowered his voice to prevent the few fans hanging out in hopes of catching a glimpse of the pitchers from eavesdropping on their conversation.

“For how long?”

“Until your contract is up, I hope. Look, Todd, you’re one of the best in the League at your position. Management is going to use every resource available, and that includes your contract, to facilitate trade talks. It doesn’t mean anything unless someone is willing to raise the ante that high.”

“Have the Waves anted up?”

The team manager glanced at the door cut into the outfield wall, then looked back at Todd. “My office after the game.”

The game rushed by with the speed of a racing snail. Todd spent the first three innings on the bench before resuming the spot he’d claimed as his in the Mustangs infield for the last dozen years. He didn’t know how to be anywhere else. The other men on the field were more than business associates. They were his teammates, his friends.

In a moment of self-pity before he’d met Brooke, he’d asked to be traded. The request hadn’t been about breaking up a team that worked well together, but about finding something that was lacking in his life. He’d been lonely and dissatisfied with the one-night stands that had defined his sex life at the time. So he’d asked to be traded, hoping he’d find the missing pieces of his life in a different city.

Then he’d met Brooke. She’d sparked his interest from the first moment he laid eyes on her. Now, he couldn’t imagine his life without her.

He
could
imagine his life without baseball. When he told Jason he didn’t move as fast as he once did, he’d been telling the truth. He wasn’t the rookie with the youthful body the Mustangs recruited. To say he’d grown up standing on third base wasn’t an exaggeration. When he first claimed that section of the infield as his own, he’d been nothing more than a wet-behind-the-ears kid. He’d had a lot of talent and even more drive to be successful. The Mustangs’ coaching staff had showed him how to combine the two assets into one package, making him one of the best to ever play the position.

He’d extended his association with them so he could stay near Brooke. At the time, both baseball and his new sub seemed like things he couldn’t live without. Over the last few years, he’d realized he could live without one of them.

Thanks to great contracts and even better investments, he didn’t need to play. He remained on the field because he loved the game. If it came to a choice between playing or losing Brooke, he’d walk away from the game without a second glance.

Still, he preferred to leave baseball on his own terms, and that meant finishing out his current agreement with the team that had become his family—the Mustangs.

Doyle Walker had been nothing but fair to Todd over the years, believing in him when others might have given up hope. He’d suffered through slumps when getting a base hit was cause for a party, and he’d ridden the high of All-Star seasons when he could do no wrong. Doyle was there, patting him on the back either in consolation or celebration. If the man was itching to trade him now, Todd must be worse off than he thought.

He took the time to shower before heading to the Mustangs’ manager’s temporary office. This one was nice but lacked the understated opulence of the one back in Dallas that commanded a stunning view of the field. Crammed into the cinder-block building attached to the back of the clubhouse and training facility, the solitary window of this office looked out on a private garden no bigger than the one at Todd’s condo. Someone had brought in a few potted plants to soften the harsh desert landscaping. Every time Todd saw the patch of barren ground, he wondered why anyone had bothered. A nice set of drapes to cover the window would have been a better investment.

“Come in, come in.” Doyle waved him to a chair facing his desk. “There’s water in the fridge. Help yourself.”

Todd had learned the importance of proper hydration his first Spring Training season in the Arizona desert. After nearly collapsing during his first week, he hadn’t turned down any offer of water since. Cold bottle in hand, he sat in one of the hard plastic chairs across from the man who held his career in his hands.

“Want to tell me what’s going on?” Todd asked. “Am I being traded?”

“I’m not going to lie to you, son. Your name has been thrown out as a possible point of negotiation with the Waves. That doesn’t mean you’ll be traded. We wanted to open negotiations with them, and the best way to do that was to lead with a name they couldn’t ignore.”

“That’s all it is?”

“The Mustangs don’t want to lose you, Todd. You’ve never let us down, and we appreciate that. Your contract will be up soon, and, at your age, well, we both know you won’t be seeing another multi-year offer. The Waves aren’t looking for a long-term commitment. They need a third baseman for one season, two, tops. Then they’ll be in a financial situation where they can fill that position with a franchise player.”

“They could pick up the remainder of my contract, cut me loose when it’s done.”

Doyle nodded. “That’s what they’re thinking. You’d be an asset to their organization. They could use a name like yours on their roster.”

“I don’t have to agree.”

“No, you don’t. You can’t be traded unless you want to be. However, if it comes down to it, the Mustangs would appreciate it if you’d at least consider their offer. Between the two of us, we’re hoping we can acquire their extra pitcher without giving up a valuable asset like you. They need to cut their payroll. Picking you up wouldn’t net them any gain in that regard.”

The anxiety twisting his gut eased a little at that news. It always came down to money. The Waves could have several young players for less than what they’d pay him for the two years remaining on his contract. They’d be better off to create a franchise player from scratch than to try to buy one outright.

“If they offer, I’ll have my agent take a look, but I have every intention of finishing my career the same way I started it—with the Mustangs.”

“I knew we could count on you to back us up. We don’t want to lose you, Todd, but we had to throw them something to get their attention.”

 

***

 

What she was doing was wrong. She should have told Todd about her lunch date with the Domme. He was her Master. He had every right to know what she did when they were apart. Not that he ran her life that completely. Back home, she ran her business without asking his permission for every little thing she did. Their Master/slave agreement encompassed their personal lives, not their professional ones. Which was the reason this meeting felt so wrong. Her dealings with Mistress Lola had nothing to do with her bakery and everything to do with her personal life.

“I should have asked Master’s permission to meet with you.”

The woman on the other side of the booth didn’t look anything like the whip-wielding Dominatrix who had marked Brooke’s body, allowing her to see her true self in one intense evening. Brooke doubted anyone who noticed them having lunch in the suburban sandwich shop would think twice about two ordinary looking women sharing a table. Everything
appeared
ordinary, but that was so far from the truth it was laughable.

“Yes, I realize that, but I’m grateful you didn’t. After the other night, I thought perhaps the two of us should talk, woman to woman, before we enter into another scene together.”

Brooke nodded, refusing to look at her stunningly beautiful companion. “We don’t have anything to talk about.” That was a lie, but she’d become a pro at denying what had happened that night. Her reaction to the woman across from her felt like a betrayal of her relationship with Todd. She’d given him everything, her love, her body, her complete submission to his will.

As if she hadn’t heard a word Brooke said, the woman spoke. “I put the decision on you, and I shouldn’t have. You’re Todd’s, not mine. I should have told him what was happening between us, and let him decide.”

Brooke’s hand shook as she held her glass of iced tea to her lips and drank. The cold liquid did nothing to steady her nerves. She glanced around, making sure no one was within hearing range—not that an eavesdropper would understand what was being said. Their conversation, thus far, sounded innocent enough. “I’m glad you didn’t.”

“Because he would have decided something different than you did?”

“No.” How could she say this? Even thinking it felt as if she was being disloyal to what she had with her Master. “I don’t want him to know.”

“You can’t control your desires, Brooke. They are what they are, and they aren’t going to go away because you will them to.”

“I know that, but wanting…is the same as cheating on him.” She risked a glance at her lunch date. Mistress Lola’s gaze held more understanding than Brooke expected.

“I don’t think he’d see it that way.” She paused. Her eyes narrowed as she considered what Brooke had said. “Unless…what you felt was more than desire. Is that it, Brooke?”

Oh, God.
She felt sick to her stomach. If her Master ever found out how much she craved the kind of mastery this woman had given her…. She stared down at her untouched sandwich.

“I see.” The other woman’s voice was pitched low. “We do have a problem then, don’t we?”

Brooke nodded. The problem was all hers—one she would deal with. Once she and Todd returned to Dallas, the temptation would be over.

“I’m glad we had this time to talk,” Mistress Lola said. “I should have recognized your feelings went that deep, but I wasn’t looking to take you away from him.”

“I can’t leave him. I won’t. Not ever.” Brooke jerked her gaze back to the other woman. “I love him.”

“But I give you something he can’t.”

“Yes.” Admitting the secret she’d been holding inside her for days didn’t provide the relief she’d hoped it would. She still felt as if she might be ill. Whoever heard of a slave needing more than their Master could provide? She loved the occasional pain Todd inflicted. The spanking after their guests left had been more than perfect. It had been exactly what she’d needed at that time. But now that she’d experienced the deeper valleys to be explored…. “I need more.”

“More of what I gave you?”

“Yes. M….” She checked herself before she blurted out the honorific. “Todd gives me as much as he can, but I’m afraid he’ll never push me as far as you did.”

“I see.” Brooke thought the Domme actually did see, which eased her mind a little. “Yet he seemed pleased with what he saw.”

She meant the stripes on Brooke’s back. “Yes. He loves them. He was proud of the way I handled the situation.”

“So he isn’t opposed to the dosage, but if left to him, he’d be more conservative.”

If the situation hadn’t seemed as important as national security to her, she might have found their strange code language humorous. However, there was nothing funny about the predicament she was in. She was in love with Todd. She wanted to serve him completely. But Mistress Lola had shown her a level of play she never imagined she could endure, much less crave.

And she did crave it. Even though the marks on her back were still visible, she longed to feel the whip on her skin again. She longed to go to that deep, dark place in her mind where her need to submit felt pure and right.

Right.
That was it, the feeling beckoning her back. In that special place in her mind, she wasn’t confused by her servitude. Her world was brilliant and perfect in its simplicity. She loved; therefore, she served. She fed off her Master’s love, drew strength from it.

“It was almost like being drunk but on his love. I would have done anything to please him. I did do things I’ve never done before.” She licked her lips, remembering the taste of the woman she spoke to. “It felt so pure at the time, but it wasn’t. Afterward, I wanted what you offered, but I was afraid accepting your…kindness…would have revealed too much to him.”

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