Free Agent (5 page)

Todd leaned over, opened his mouth against her spread crease, and took her ass in a kiss that demanded her complete attention and total surrender. His tongue flicked over the tight rosebud he’d yet to explore.

She froze beneath him. He scraped his teeth over the tender flesh he’d reddened earlier. At the same moment his hands demanded she leap over the edge.

Her response was the most beautiful thing he’d ever witnessed. The mattress muffled a low, keening moan. Her body quaked and jerked in uninhibited waves of passion that gathered him up and towed him along for the wild ride. His cock throbbed with the need to be inside her, to experience the miracle up close and personal.

Adrenaline flooded his system. Blood rushed south, blinding him, but heightened his other senses, so he wouldn’t miss a single moment of her orgasm.

He inhaled deeply, drawing her scent into his nostrils, committing it to memory. He’d never forget the feel of her juices pouring over his hands or the sounds she made when she came, like a symphony written only for him and sweeter than the roar in the stadium when he homered.

And he’d done this, brought her to climax. Nothing on the planet could feel better.

“Thank you, Master.”

Nothing but that.

Chapter Five

Shit.

Todd carefully extracted his fingers from her tight channel and, with as gentle a touch as he could muster, tended to his sub.

She called you Master.

She’s not yours. You have to let her go.

He wet a washcloth with warm water and cleansed her. Afterward, he rubbed ointment over the angry red welts on her ass cheeks.

I did that to her. No wonder she called me Master. I behaved like her master would.

Finally, he released her ankles and wrists. She lay quiet while he slid the pillow from beneath her hips and pulled her dress down to cover her.

Silent, he scooped her up and carried her to the big easy chair in the corner. He spread his legs, suspending her sore bottom in the cradle of his thighs. She clung to him, her arms around his neck, her face in the crook of his shoulder.

She trusted me when she had no reason to.

He cradled her until her breathing fell into the soft rhythm of sleep. Then he held her some more. It felt right.

In all the years he’d been a practicing Dom, he’d never just held a woman like this. No demands. No expectations. Offering comfort and shelter—nothing more.

A feeling he couldn’t identify crept over him like a thick fog, obscuring his vision and muting his other senses. It wasn’t unpleasant. In fact, it was nice. For once, he wasn’t in any hurry to leave.

Contentment?

No. But something close.

Whatever it was, the longer he held her, the stronger the feeling became. And as the minutes passed, he came to one conclusion.

I don’t want to let her go.

She was dreaming. Nothing in real life had ever felt this good, this right. Wherever she was, she was safe. If she opened her eyes, the dream would shatter, and she wanted it to go on forever.

Slowly, reality seeped through the ragged seams of her consciousness.
Todd.

She recognized his scent and the feel of his hands. One curved over her arm, the other at her hip, holding her, protecting her. He could have sent her away afterward, but he hadn’t. After the most amazing orgasm of her life, he’d simply picked her up as if she weighed nothing and cradled her in his arms. It was as unexpected as it was comforting, but she’d taken her cues from him and hadn’t said a word, hadn’t questioned his reasons. His broad chest and strong arms had simply felt too good.

What was it about this man that prompted her to do crazy, reckless things? Like make herself come in a public place then foolishly use every contact she knew to find out who he was? Putting herself at his mercy tonight, without a single concrete reason to believe he wouldn’t hurt her—other than the feeling in her gut—had been the definition of insanity.

Yet, here she was, in his arms feeling safer than she ever had in her life.

Master.

The word rolled around in her head like a firecracker dancing with a lit match, ready to explode any minute. A sane person would throw the explosive away before it blew up in their face, but she’d already established her insanity.

He only wants one night.

Master.

That deep down, know-it’s-right feeling didn’t fit a one-night hookup. The feeling went with forever. She’d never envisioned a lasting relationship with another Dom, much less expressed the desire for such an association. But she’d called
him
Master.

He hadn’t acted like he’d heard her, and perhaps he hadn’t. Maybe that part had been a dream, and she hadn’t said the word out loud, only imagined she had. She tested it again, forming the sounds silently with her lips.

“You’re awake.” His voice rumbled through his chest cavity like a giant cat purring, and she was suddenly aware he could easily tear her to shreds.

Raising her hand to his chest, she felt his heart beating, slow and steady. No sign he was as nervous as she was. “Yes.”
Master
. Her brain automatically tacked on the title though she stopped the sound before it passed her lips.

“It’s late.”

“I should go,” she said, though she made no effort to move, and thankfully, he didn’t try to make her. She would have to leave his arms, but a piece of her would remain when she did. He’d claimed a part of her no one else ever had—her heart.

He’d changed her in some fundamental way she didn’t fully understand. Before, even up until he’d spanked her a few times, she had expected the punishment to be mild, the pain grease that would open the door to her pleasure. She’d expected him to enjoy punishing her. He’d quickly disabused her of the notion. There hadn’t been anything sexual about the spanking, and he hadn’t enjoyed it. There’d been no soothing between blows. No words spoken to let her know he was turned on, and the pain had been beyond anything arousing. Her ass still hurt and probably would for days.

Up until then, she’d been a selfish sub. She’d offered herself to Dom’s for her pleasure, not theirs. She’d expected Todd to follow suit. Paddle her a little—until she was aroused—then bring her to orgasm.

Now, she understood. The real pleasure came from pleasing her master, not the other way around. She’d deliberately taunted him, using his good looks to help herself to a public orgasm, then blithely assuming he would give her another.

“That wasn’t what you thought was going to happen, was it?”

She shook her head. “No.”

“Don’t expect an apology. You won’t get one. One thing you have to remember, always. You’re here to serve my pleasure, and only my pleasure. I decide when, or if, you will orgasm.”

Her heart lodged in her throat. Was he saying what she thought he was saying?

“I’ll draw up a contract tomorrow. You should know up front I’m not staying in Dallas much longer. A few months, but I want you with me until I have to go.”

Her heart sank like a stone, landing with a sickening thud in her abdomen.
Not forever. A few months.

“I’ll teach you what you need to know to serve your next master.”

Black dots swam around her vision. She closed her eyes to stave off a wave of dizziness.

Next master. Not forever.

Forever.

Forever for her. Even when he’s gone.

He shifted, pushed her body off his chest, yet still held her in his lap. “Look at me.”

She forced her eyes open and turned her face to his. His wonderfully handsome face was a blur through the tears threatening to spill over.

“Why are you crying?” he asked.

Her heart was a petrified fossil lodged somewhere in her body, but she couldn’t tell him how he had wounded her. It would hurt him. She could see it in his eyes, and she couldn’t do that to him. Where was the selfish sub when she needed her?

“You…. I didn’t…. Let me….”

He smiled and shook his head. “Thank you, but, no. I don’t need that tonight. Your pleasure was my pleasure. If you sign the contract tomorrow, we’ll seal the deal with a good fuck. How’s that?

She nodded, unable to speak.

“Good girl. All I want is for you to be happy.”

Oh God. How can I tell him I’m so damned happy I could bust, but at the same time, I want to die? I can’t. I won’t. I won’t do anything to make him unhappy.

“I’m happy, Master.” She smiled to prove it.

***

Fuck. Fuck. Double fuck. Cluster fuck a duck!

Todd hit the print button and watched in horror as the printer spit out the multi-page contract. He’d meant only to teach Brooke a lesson, but somewhere in the process, she’d gotten under his skin, and like a bad rash, the only way to get rid of her was to wait it out.

He had less than six months to do it then he’d be off to whatever team in whatever city would pay the most for his services.

The day before, that had sounded like the best idea he’d ever had, but today he felt like a street corner whore. And it was all because of one unexpectedly addictive sub. Hell, he didn’t even know her last name, and she didn’t know his. She
wasn’t going
to know his.

They’d talked for a while the night before, and he’d learned she owned a successful but demanding specialty bakery in a nearby suburb. She’d barely had time for a social life since the place opened two years ago, which accounted for her rudimentary knowledge of the lifestyle. He’d told her he was a contractor, working for the highest bidder.

It wasn’t exactly a lie, but close enough to the truth. He wished she didn’t have to work so hard, but long hours in a hot kitchen kept her from keeping up with the news, especially the sports broadcasts. She didn’t know who he was, and he wanted to keep it that way. Their relationship was strictly sex and, per the contract he just printed out, to take place within the confines of The Dungeon, where absolutely no one discussed their life outside those walls.

Later, at the clubhouse, he told himself the contract meant nothing. Slipping his jacket off and hanging it in his clubhouse locker, he made sure the envelope containing the document wasn’t visible in the breast pocket before he flicked open the cuffs on his dress shirt. He wasn’t as careful these days to hide his involvement in the BDSM lifestyle, but he didn’t want to explain to anyone, least of all one of the reporters hanging around, that he had a contract of any kind in his pocket.

Contracts. Necessary evils in his profession. The Mustangs had been good to him, paid him well for the years he’d been with them, but all good things had to come to an end. His contract with the Mustangs would expire at the end of the season, as would the one in his pocket. He’d made up his mind to leave, to look somewhere else for whatever it was that was missing in his life.

“Hey.”

Todd glanced up from tying his cleats to see Jeff Holder, the Mustangs ace closer, standing over him. “Hey, Jeff. What’s up?”

“Not much. What’s with the scowl? You got something particular against the Metros?”

“No man, just thinking too hard, I guess.” He made a conscious effort to relax his facial muscles.

“You should save that for the game. Don’t waste it on tying shoe laces.” Jeff clapped him on the shoulder and, with a smile, headed out of the locker room.

Shit.
He should be smiling about all the money he was going to make over the next few years instead of scowling. Money would make him happy. A new city, a new team would make him happy.

He stood, automatically reaching for his cap and glove. He scanned the room. Most of his teammates were quietly going about their pregame routines. A few chatted quietly as they changed into their batting practice jerseys. He knew them all, from the veterans to the rookies, he called them friends. They shared more than a love of the game. They had each other’s backs. Like the time Tanner lost his house to a brush fire. They’d all pitched in to help him rebuild and replace some of the memorabilia he’d collected over the years.

He was going to miss these guys. They were like family to him.

So why am I leaving? I’ll never find this kind of feeling again. No other team will be like this one. Dysfunctional, the lot of them, but good guys with hearts of gold.

Bentley Randolph slapped him on the back with his glove as he passed by on his way out. “Cheer up, man. It’s a beautiful day out there.”

“Hey, Bent,” he said, forcing his lips to curve upward. “Don’t get distracted by the birds singing and the pretty, puffy white clouds. We need your full attention in left field.”

The outfielder flashed his megawatt smile and took two backward steps toward the door. “Aren’t you the funny guy today? I’ve seen the women who own the block of season tickets above the third base dugout. The ones that wear the Team Todd T-shirts. You’re the one who needs to keep his eyes on the field.”