Daddy's Game (17 page)

Ordering a whiskey sour, he gave the scantily clad waitress his credit card and told her to open a tab. Clarence succeeded in cheering him up, regaling him with some crazy guys-night-out stories.

Clarence worked as a security guard for a bank now, but he and Natron had met when he was working for the Vipers organization. He told Natron a story about a guy who had robbed their bank recently. The guy had written the note telling the clerk to hand over the money. The funny part was he’d written it on a pad of paper from the hotel he was staying at half-a-mile away, making it almost too easy for the cops to pick him up an hour later at the hotel.

“Man, that guy’s too dumb to be walkin’ around,” Natron said and they laughed until their sides hurt.

After a few rounds, some of the girls had recognized Natron and were beginning to get a little too friendly.

“Come back and I’ll give you a lap dance you’ll never forget,” promised a blonde with a pixie haircut and small tits.

“See me after and I’ll take you to paradise, brown sugar,” a buxom brunette said, touching a well-manicured fingertip to his lips.

Natron didn’t mind the attention and he appreciated beautiful, naked women, but he wasn’t in the mood. The last thing he needed was another person with their hand out wondering what good ole Natron could do for them. He had nothing left to give today. His chest tightened and it felt like a crowd of people were standing on him, making it impossible to breathe.

Then a gorgeous chocolate Nubian princess came out and did her gyrating right in front of him. At the end of her dance she taunted him. “C’mon, big boy. Let Mamma treat you right,” she said, smashing her jugs together and making a lewd movement with her tongue. When that didn’t get the response she was looking for, she turned around and bent over, giving him a view of her goodies that left nothing to the imagination.

The ‘Mamma’ reference was bad enough with all he’d been dealing with regarding his own mother, but the blatant pussy in the face was more than he was looking for. The situation was escalating and he didn’t want to be a part of it getting worse. He loved Carmen, and cheap sex wasn’t going to do anything to solve his problems. It would probably only add to them.

“I need some fresh air. Let’s get out of here,” Natron said.

“You got it, chief. We may need a ride. Want me to call a cab?” Clarence asked, standing up to get their waitress so they could cash out.

“Naw. I’ll call Carmen to come get us.”

“Carmen? You sure? She might not like it that you’re here.”

Natron waved his concern away. “Babygirl’s cool. She won’t care.” He stood up and walked outside to make the call.

Chapter Seventeen

“You’re where?”

Carmen had stepped out of the shower to find she’d missed two calls from Natron. She’d giggled. He always had this kind of naked radar and called when she was undressed.

Her towel fell to the floor and she looked at the phone.
The Booby Trap
? What the hell?

“Sure, I’ll come get you,” she said through gritted teeth and hung up.

She shook her head and threw on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, then hurried out to her car.

Hands gripping the steering wheel, she wondered why Natron felt the need to go to a strip club. Wasn’t their sex life satisfactory? Hell, she thought it was great, beyond great. Beyond anything she could have imagined prior to meeting him.

Perhaps he didn’t feel the same way. Or he was getting bored with her. Was that it? He was looking for someone new?

She shook off these notions. A strip club wasn’t where Natron would pick up women. Being a professional athlete, he’d be too scared of gold-diggers, those kind of women who held semen in their mouths so they could later spit it in a cup and try to get themselves pregnant by an athlete—the biggest payoff they were likely to see. Plus, if he was cheating, she doubted he’d ask her to pick him up from the scene of the crime.

There had to be some other explanation. Maybe one of his buddies wanted to go, was getting married or something. Now that was a scenario that made sense. Come to think of it, Natron’s voice had sounded a bit slurred over the phone.

A bright pink and purple neon sign of a naked girl served as an easy landmark, and she pulled into the parking lot.

Natron and Clarence appeared out of the shadows. Natron gave her a quick kiss through the window and asked Carmen if she could give Clarence a ride home.

She agreed and the ride to Clarence’s was a quiet one. When he got out of the car, Clarence made a big point to tell Natron to stay in touch. “Don’t be such a stranger.” Natron agreed and clapped him on the shoulder.

Once they were alone, Carmen inquired, “Where do you want me to take you?”

Natron’s gaze was fixed on his phone. “Oh, crap. Jack’s been looking for me.”

“Do you need to go home and work out with Jack?” He reeked of booze and seemed to have had several drinks. It didn’t seem the best time to work out to her, but her experience with working out was limited to going up and down the stairs in her loft, so she kept quiet. Let the professionals figure that one out.

“I was supposed to,” he sighed, the smell of booze assaulting her nostrils.

“What happened?” she asked, purposely leaving her question open-ended.

“Had a rough day is all,” he grumbled.

“So you went out and got drunk? Anyway, I need to know where I’m taking you.”

“Your place.”

“You want to go to my place? What about Jack?”

“Jack can go fuck himself.”

She took a right at the next light, pointing her vehicle in the direction of her loft. “So Jack’s who’s got you in this mood?”

“No. I just texted him back anyway. We can get back on schedule tomorrow. I mean, I’m payin’ the guy regardless if we work out today.”

She nodded, hoping he would tell her what was wrong once he felt like it.

Natron sat silent for the remainder of the ride home.

Carmen looked over once and he’d closed his eyes. Her temples throbbed and she could almost feel the hangover he would soon be getting.

They arrived at her apartment and she offered him some coffee. When he declined, she fixed him a glass of ice water and urged him to drink it.

He downed half of it and sent her upstairs, ordering her to get naked.

She stripped off her clothes, leaving them in a pile on the floor. Tidiness was the last thing on her mind. Something in her gut told her tonight was going to be anything but tidy. No, tonight had messy written all over it.

Grunts and heavy breathing echoed up the stairs, giving away the fact that it was hard for him to climb the stairs in his current physical state.

After he’d hauled himself up the stairs on basically one leg, he limped into her closet, winded.

He returned with one of her belts. It was leather with a heavy gold buckle. He turned it over in his hands, examining the leather, considering how he would use it on her.

Terror coursed through her blood. “Please, don’t use the buckle, Daddy,” she pleaded.

“Shut up and lie down on the bed,” he growled. “On your stomach.”

He won’t use the buckle. He wouldn’t do that
, she told herself as she lay down.

“Spread your legs more,” he said and gave the belt a test shot on her upper thigh.

“Eeek! Daddy!” she hollered.

“Okay, I’ll stick to your ass,” he grumbled.

Remembering to breathe was going to be the only way she could do this. She inhaled purposefully.

This time he didn’t caress her bottom cheeks or take care with her. This time she felt his anger. It puzzled her because she hadn’t done anything to him, and it wasn’t like Natron to take out his rage on her. It wasn’t like him to be full of rage.

What had happened that day? She wondered, then forgot as the next blow striped her ass with a red ribbon of pain.

He covered both of her ass cheeks well with whipping motions, the leather licking her flesh as it grew more tender with each blow.

Something had made him feel helpless, and she could tell he needed to express his power over her.
He needs me to be his, to control me when the rest of his world is out of control
, she realized and vowed not to use her safeword unless absolutely necessary.

Each lash of the leather sent a searing sensation to her sore skin, but after a few minutes she relaxed and drifted away.

The spanking continued until Natron told her that her ass was red as a cherry.

Without preamble he climbed on top of her from behind, his erection poking hard against her asshole.

For a minute she held her breath, praying he wouldn’t take her ass. Her heart raced. There had been no butt plug, no stretching, and she thought she might die of agony if he did it without lube. Her butthole was tiny, and anal sex was sometimes more painful than fun even when they prepped her beforehand.

To her relief his cock drifted lower and pushed inside her pussy.

It was slow going at first, since she’d been more concerned than aroused by the beating with the belt. But after he moved in and out a few times, the old, familiar lust surfaced and wet her walls.

Once he sensed her arousal, he increased his speed, pounding hard into her.

Tilting his hips, he ground against her g-spot, causing her to squeal with pleasure.

“Hush, my girl,” he snarled and inserted a thumb into her mouth.

Her lips curled around his big finger and she suckled and tried not to wiggle too much beneath him. This was one of those times when she needed to let Daddy fuck her the way he wanted. It was her job to do as he said and take whatever he gave her.

His cock smashed into her g-spot with an unrelenting fury. The room, the bed, everything seemed to fall away as she felt the welcome gush leave her pussy. Her insides contracted again and again as she floated on wave after wave of pink, silken girly cum.

Natron covered her body with his own, stretching out atop her until she wasn’t sure she could breathe. But he left her just enough room as he bucked into her at a frenzied speed. His skin slapped against hers and she was slightly relieved when he pushed into her one last time, then collapsed beside her.

They lay silently in each other’s arms as their heart rates returned to normal.

Natron almost always fell asleep after sex, but in his alcohol-induced state, she knew it would only be a matter of seconds before he dozed off. Perhaps their romp had taken the edge off. She tried again to get at what was bothering him.

“Daddy, what happened today?”

Half-asleep, he threw an arm across her body, mumbling. “They don’t think I’ll make it back this year.”

“Who? Who doesn’t think you’ll make it back?” she pressed.

Her question was met with light snoring noises. She dared to poke him gently in the ribs, but he didn’t stir.

So that’s what the problem was. She knew Natron thought he’d be back playing football by the playoffs. Someone—maybe Jack, one of the other players, or even one of the coaches disagreed. What did they know? Her daddy knew his own body better than anyone else did. Natron was certainly not
normal
, by anyone’s assessment.

She curled herself around his sleeping form and stroked his long dreads. “I believe in you, Daddy,” she whispered, “I believe in you.”

He mumbled something in his sleep, and she wasn’t sure whether or not he heard her.

Chapter Eighteen

After that day, Natron felt like crap. He apologized to Jack for blowing him off and to Carmen for exorcising his demons on her, and he committed himself once again to his comeback.

Fuck those bastards who don’t believe in me. I’ll show them.

Every day he worked out with Jack in the morning, then went to the Vipers’ training facility for his workout with the trainers, and later he and Jack worked out again in the evenings.

By December he resumed light jogging. Almost daily he experienced swelling around the knee, but he fought it with lots of icing and massage therapy. He hoped by January he’d be ready to attend a team practice.

When the regular season drew to a close, the Dallas Vipers had claimed a spot in a Wildcard game. The game would be held in January in New England, and though Natron would have given anything to be able to play in that game, he comforted himself with the knowledge that if you had to miss a playoff game, the one held in New England in the dead of winter was the one to miss.

So Natron watched the game at home with Jack and Carmen. It was a nasty battle, played outdoors in negative ten degrees temperature with a wind chill factor of negative forty. Natron shivered just thinking about playing in that kind of weather.

“I can’t imagine being in the stands, much less playing in that type of weather,” Carmen said, snuggling up to Natron.

“Yeah, it’s bad enough being that cold, but trying to catch the ball in that…” Natron’s voice trailed off.

“What do you mean?” Carmen asked.

“Well, like here in Dallas where it’s warm and humid for most of the football season, balls are easy to catch in that weather,” Natron said.

“Why is that?” she asked.

“The ball has a lot of give to it,” Jack explained. “Up there, in that kind of weather,” he pointed at the television screen, “the ball is frozen.”

“So?”

“So, it’s like catching a solid block of ice coming at you at sixty miles per hour when you can barely feel your fingertips—now that’s a challenge.” Natron laughed. “Probably not the best game to make a comeback.”

“Yeah,” Carmen agreed.

They watched and crossed their fingers the Vipers would advance and give Natron a chance to play.

Without much of a passing game due to the weather, the Vipers ground out over 300 yards running in a physical defensive game and beat the Commodores 10-3. The Vipers advanced and were slated to play the Los Angeles Cougars the following week, and that game would take place in Dallas.

That Sunday night after the game, Natron got the call he’d been waiting for. He was to report to practice on Monday.