Going Deep

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This book is a work
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or organizations is entirely coincidental and the product of the authors
imagination or have been used fictitiously.

Copyright © 2012 by
Roz Lee

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Acknowledgements

I couldn’t write these stories
without the love and encouragement of the people closest to me. What began as a
whim, and perhaps a mid-life crisis, has blossomed into a full-time job that I
absolutely love. Through it all, my daughters have been wonderfully supportive
and surprisingly, are not embarrassed to tell people what I do. However, my
greatest support comes from my husband who not only encourages my fantasies
(the ones about one day becoming a well-known author), but puts up with all my
others!

 Many thanks go to Sharon
Buchbinder and her wonderful husband, Dr. Dale Buchbinder. When I wrote myself
into a corner, Dr. Dale was there with a scalpel to open a new door while
Sharon slapped an oxygen mask on my plot and breathed new life into it. Jason’s
story would have been D.O.A. without their skilled emergency response.

To my LARA buddies, Kathy, Sarah,
Christine and Robyn, thanks for your unwavering support.

Dedication

For Terrell, whose
love keeps me going.

Chapter One

The gray
concrete-block basement walls matched Jason’s mood and amplified the soft whir
of the automatic pitching machine.
Fuck
. Someone else was using the
batting cage. Showing up on the team’s day off was tantamount to admitting your
hitting sucked, and he had hoped to find the place empty. He briefly considered
turning around and leaving before whoever it was saw him. But hell, who was he
kidding? His batting average sucked lemons and everyone on the team knew it. If
word got out he was taking extra swings, then at least his teammates would know
he was trying to fix the problem.

Jason rounded
the corner to see the Mustangs third baseman swing at a perfect pitch and miss.

“Morning, Todd,”
he said with a wave.

"Hey, Jason,
I'll be through in a few."

"No hurry."
Jason sat on the bench where he could watch.

Todd took
another swing. "Maybe you can help me. Take a look and tell me what you
see." He fouled the next ball off. “Man, I’m getting too old for this
shit.” Todd tightened his grip on the bat and glared at the pitching machine.

“You’re only
what, thirty-five? You still have a few good years in you.”

Todd grunted and
connected with another pitch. The ball fouled. “Damn it. What the hell am I
doing wrong?”

“You’re dropping
your shoulder, getting under the ball too much.”

“Thanks, man.” He
took a few more swings, connecting better on each one. “Now see, that’s what I’m
talking about. I’ve been struggling for weeks, and no one said a damned thing.
Not even Tuley. What’s a batting coach for if he doesn’t coach?”

Jason shrugged. “I
don’t know. He hasn’t done a damned thing for me either. I’ve never hit this
bad in my life.”

Todd continued
to swing at the oncoming balls. “I hear you. Sometimes there’s no explanation.
It just is what it is.”

“What it is, is
crap,” Jason said, shaking his head. “I led the league in home runs last year.
This year, I can’t get a base hit to save my life.” It seemed everything in his
life was out of control these days, and he didn’t have a clue how to change any
of it. All he knew was he had to do something—and fast. “I gotta fix whatever’s
wrong before I end up on the bench.”

Todd laughed.
His bat connected with the last ball from the automatic pitching machine. “The
Mustangs aren’t going to bench you. You’re the best catcher in the league.” He
grabbed his towel hanging from the fence and wiped his face. “They might put a
Designated Hitter in to bat for you, but take you out of the game? Ain’t gonna
happen.”

“Yeah, well,
that’s not a chance I want to take.”

They switched
places, Todd collapsing on the bench with a water bottle and Jason taking his
place inside the batting cage.

“Why don’t you
see if you can figure out what
I’m
doing wrong?”

“Sure. I’ve got
time,” Todd said.

Jason fouled off
the first two pitches and completely missed the next four. “Fuck.” Totally
unacceptable.

“There’s nothing
wrong with your swing. You aren’t concentrating. You just gotta focus.”

Jason hit the
stop button, leaned against the far side of the cage, and studied his shoes.
Swinging at meatballs any high school kid should be able to hit wasn’t going to
fix anything. “I don’t know what’s the matter with me. I can’t get my head in
the game.”

“Troubles at
home?”

“Not anymore.”
Apparently there had been trouble, but he hadn’t seen it, probably because he
had his head up his ass.

Todd raised an
eyebrow. “What happened?”

“My girlfriend
dumped me.” Jason was careful to keep his face neutral as he inwardly winced. Christ,
the wound to his ego was still raw. Stacey wasn’t coming back so he might as
well get over it and move on.

“The cute
physical therapist who was working with Jeff?”

Jason nodded. He’d
met her when she took on his twin brother Jeff as one of her clients following
surgery on his elbow. She’d bullied his brother through twelve months of
physical therapy and he was back in the Mustangs bullpen where he belonged.
Jason pushed away from the fence and, after racking his bat and helmet, joined
Todd on the bench. “Yeah, that one. She booted me to the curb.”

“When did this
happen? I thought you two were firm.”

“Me too. It’s
been a couple of weeks, I guess.” Two weeks of hell wondering if he was as
warped as she’d accused him of being. Two weeks of wondering what he was going
to do now.

“About the time
you quit hitting?”

“Yeah. I know.
It’s stupid, but I thought we had something going on, and then…”

“Then…what?”
Todd asked.

Jason grabbed a
water bottle from his duffel. “Surely you have better things to do with your
day off than listen to my sad story about the one that got away.”

Todd sat back,
stretched his legs out in front, and crossed his arms over his chest. “Nope.
Not until tonight. Spill. Maybe if you tell somebody, you can get your head
back in the game.”

Well, shit. Now
he’d gone and done it. He rummaged in his bag for a towel while he tried to
figure out a way to get out the hole he’d dug for himself. He wiped his brow
and took a long pull on the water bottle. He should have kept his mouth shut,
but he hadn’t, and now he was going to have to tell Todd something—unless he
could get him to back off on his own. Yeah, that might work.

 “What are you,
some kind of shrink?”

“No, but I do
want to win. And the Mustangs need you to start hitting. If I have to listen to
your sad tale, then I’ll take it for the team.”

“Okay, but if
you tell another soul I’ll use your head for batting practice and smile while I
do it.”

Todd raised both
hands in surrender. “I don’t doubt that for a minute. My lips are sealed,
compadre
.
Now, tell me what happened.”

Jason glanced
around the cavernous basement below the stadium to make sure none of the other
team members were around. Assured they were alone, Jason began, “You know that
book, the one everyone’s talking about? The one all the women are reading and
saying it’s making them horny?”

 “Yeah. What
about it?”

“Well, Stacey
bought a copy. We’d had some awesome morning sex, and I didn’t have to be at
the field for a few hours, so we were just chillin’, you know?”

“Uh huh.”

“Well, after
breakfast, she picked the book up again—man, she couldn’t put it down. I swear,
every time I saw her for days she had that book in her hands.”

Todd nodded, and
Jason continued. “I asked her what was so interesting about it, and she started
reading me some of the sexy parts. We laughed about a couple of them, and then
she read this one where the guy handcuffed the woman and did some kinky stuff
to her. It was hot, I’m telling you. Anyway, I said I wouldn’t mind doing some
of those things to her.”

“And?”

“She looked at
me like I’d turned into some kind of monster. She couldn’t believe I’d even
think of doing those things to a woman, much less
her
.”

“What did you
do?”

“I told her I
wasn’t going to do anything she didn’t want to do, and she should have known
that.” Jason shook his head. Stacey’s behavior still didn’t make any sense to
him. “Anyway, the next thing I know, I get a Dear Jason text. A
text
. We
were in Atlanta and went from there to Cincinnati.”

“I remember that
trip,” Todd said. “I didn’t have a single hit against the Braves.”

“Yeah, well, I
wasn’t much better,” Jason said with a sneer. “By the time I got home, she’d
cleared out of our place.”

“Had you ever
asked her to try any of the things in the book, or done any of them without her
permission?”

“No! I’d never
force a woman to do anything she didn’t want to do. And honestly, I’ve never
had to.”

“Your charisma
aside, was there anything else she said?”

“Just that I was
too demanding. That it’s always my way in bed, never her way. Shit! I asked her
all the time to tell me what she liked.” He raked his fingers through his hair.
Now that he’d started talking, he couldn’t stop. His frustration poured out faster
than fans scurrying from the stadium when the home team was losing by a dozen
runs.

“She said she
didn’t like the way I tried to take care of her, as though she couldn’t take
care of herself. It sounded like a bunch of women’s lib shit to me. You know.
She said she could pump her own gas, and she didn’t want me ordering for her at
restaurants. I’d call to check on her when I was out of town, just to make sure
she was okay. I thought I was being considerate, but she said I was smothering
her. And then the kinky sex thing…she said that scared her.”

When he finally
wound down, it was as though the concrete walls had absorbed all the sound. The
silence was deafening. Aware that Todd hadn’t said anything, Jason dared to
look at his confessor. He didn’t like the way his friend eyed him.

“What?” Jason
asked.

“Do you want to
do those things to a woman?
Really
, want to do those things, or was it
just some fantasy?”

Jason nodded. “Yeah,
I think I’d like that. You know, calling all the shots, having a woman at my
mercy. Willingly. I’d only do it if they wanted it, too. Stacey had to know
that.”

Todd stood. “You
have plans tonight?”

The abrupt
change of subject caught him off guard. “No. Just gonna watch some TV, maybe
have a few beers. Why?”

“I want to show
you something.” He pulled a team notebook out of the bag he’d crammed
underneath the bench. He scribbled something, tore out the page, and folded it
in half before handing it to Jason. “Meet me at that address around nine. Dress
casual.”

Damn, he didn’t
feel like going out. “Thanks.”

“Sure.” Todd
grabbed his duffel and left.

He hoped Todd
wasn’t going to try to fix him up with some bimbo. The last thing he needed
right now was a woman messing with his head—it was plenty messed up already.

* * *

The giant
standing sentinel in front of the red lacquered door in Dallas’ industrial
district didn’t look friendly. Jason checked the address again. Right place. He
scanned the brick façade for a sign and found none. What kind of place was this,
and where was Todd?

He’d heard of
exclusive bars, the kind requiring an invitation to get inside. Maybe this was
one of them, but he couldn’t imagine the place was doing well in this
neighborhood whose better days were long behind it.

“Um….” He had no
clue what to say to gain entrance.

“Are you a
member?” the guard asked.

Member?
You
have to have a membership to get in this place? Seriously?
“No, but I’m
supposed to meet someone here.”