MasterinMelbourne (7 page)

He locked gazes with her and spread his own legs, his hand
rubbing the bulge in the front of his jeans. She stared. She’d never had a man
she was with do that so she could watch before. At the club in Texas, sometimes
there were guys who jerked themselves off to other people’s scenes, but that
had been a turn-off, not a turn-on. She tried to ignore them without being
noticed ignoring them, because the more they annoyed her the more Stu seemed to
want to attract their attention to her.

It was sexier watching a male sub do it on command for his
mistress, but she wasn’t a Domme and she never felt she was intended to watch,
although clearly they chose a public place for a reason. But this was
different. This was someone she cared about. Nick clearly intended her to
watch. Maybe he felt as vulnerable as she did, although it was hard to imagine
Nick being vulnerable about anything. Still, it was beautiful. If she let her
fingers stroke her clit while watching that, she’d come standing up. She took
her hand out of her pants and slid it down her thighs instead.

He stroked his hand up and down the ridge, not unlike the
way she had stroked her whole hand along her pussy. He didn’t squeeze or grab.
Maybe he thought he would have trouble containing himself too. If so, sex was
going to be short but explosive. Long could be good, but she was feeling
impatient.

She grabbed the top of her shorts and had to resist seizing
the panties as well, and pulling them all down as fast as she could. She
thought of turning her back to him, but only for an instant. She wanted to see
what he was doing too badly for that. She tugged the shorts down over her hips,
then shimmied them down the rest of her legs.

“You’re so sexy,” Nick told her.

“You’re not bad yourself.” Zoe was surprised at the
huskiness of her voice. She sounded almost like a man when her voice dropped
that low, but thankfully not quite.

“Come closer.”

She took a step forward. One more step and she’d be in his
lap. She didn’t mind that idea at all but she wanted to get her panties off
first.

“You like to watch me, don’t you, Zoe?”

“Yes.” So he’d noticed her staring.

“I don’t dare press any harder. You’ve got me so turned-on,
I might come from any more touching.”

“That would be fun to see.” She grinned at him.

“If we had but world enough, and time.”

She smiled. Somehow the words of the poem seemed strange in
an Australian accent, although it was probably closer to Marvell’s than her
Texan. “‘This coyness, lady, were no crime’? I believe you asked for slow.”

“I believe I did. But slow is over. Get your knickers off.”

She giggled.
Knickers.
“Yes Sir.” She pulled them
down.

He pulled a condom out of his pocket.

“You come prepared,” she observed.

“I had hopes.” He unzipped himself and pulled his pants down.
His cock was magnificent. Long and thick. Why had she waited? The drop of
precum glistening at the tip made her salivate, but the urgency with which he
tore the foil wrapper and unrolled the condom over his cock was hot too. He
wanted her, clearly.

“Come sit on my lap, darlin’.”

She was tempted to sit sidesaddle, to tease, but she wanted
to feel his cock inside her too much to let her mischievous side have control.
She straddled him and her hand joined his to help guide his cock to her eager
pussy.

He arched up and pulled her to him at the same time,
entering her. Her pussy stretched to accommodate his girth, and kept stretching
as he thrust farther inside her. She pushed, wanting to have all of him, loving
the way his cock rubbed against her inner walls. Time slowed down, and it
seemed to take an age before he was all the way in and her pubic bone pushed
against his. He grunted his satisfaction.

Then he met her gaze. “You feel like heaven,” he told her.
They were still for a long moment before he drew back, sliding partway out of
her.

She couldn’t verbalize how she felt. When he was all the way
in, he pressed against her clit and against every sensitive nerve inside her
pussy. But the feeling of him sliding was exquisite. She waited until he moved
forward again to flex her hips, pulling him back inside while letting him set
the rhythm. His lips tightened in concentration.
It’s okay, Sir, you can
come. You’ve earned it.

He leaned back, resting his head on the bed. He squeezed her
breasts in his meaty hands, rubbing rough thumbs over her tender, tingling
peaks. Each touch there sent a spark directly to her core, mingling with the
fire building in her pussy and the lightning that ran through her body every
time he jolted her clit with his pubic bone at the end of a thrust.

She watched his face and realized he was holding back,
trying to make her come first. She thought for a moment of resisting, of
insisting on pleasuring him first to pay for the times she’d come without him,
but she realized it was hopeless. Her body was a traitor to that cause. And
besides, she wanted his release, and if the best way to do that was to have her
own, why argue?

His thrusts made her lift off the bed. Even with her on top,
his strength powered them forward and he set the pace. Each time he filled her
brought her closer. He plucked at her nipples with the skill of a master
violinist, and moved his hips at the right time and angle to maximize the
sensations she felt.

When he clapped his other hand to her bottom, half slap and
half grasp, she couldn’t hold the explosion back any longer. Shudders rippled
through her body as she came. His low cry joined her moan as he arched and
pulsed inside her, uniting with her in ecstasy. Her pussy contracted, holding
him inside and milking him until the last wave of pleasure rolled over them
both.

Suddenly they were still and silent. She blinked, looking
down at him. A satisfied smile crossed his face. It might have even been a
smirk. Climbing on him, having sex with him, making love to him, had all come
naturally enough. But now what?

“You’re beautiful, baby,” he told her. He grabbed her by the
waist and ass and rolled her over, pulling her toward the center so they didn’t
fall off the bed. He stayed inside her. “Such a sweet, sweet fuck.”

Thank god he didn’t say he loved me, because I think I
might have said it back. And then where would we be?
“You’re a sweet fuck
too.” She giggled. The words didn’t seem nearly as natural when she said them.

He reached down and held the condom as he slid out, never
taking his eyes off hers. “Ohh,” she moaned at the unwelcome emptiness.

“We can do it again,” he promised. “Just this time I’d like
to get my clothes all the way off first.” He tossed the condom into the
wastebasket.

She laughed. Doing it again sounded good. “I’ll make some
coffee while you recover.” She scrambled off the bed and started for the
kitchen, and then stopped. “On second thought, I’ll watch you strip. If that’s
okay, Sir.”

He winked. “Sounds fair to me. I won’t be so elegant
though.” He sat on the edge, pulled his pants off his ankles and got his socks
along the way, and then stood.

Elegant? Whatever else she’d been, she rather doubted she’d
been elegant. But his voice held no mockery. For that matter, she hadn’t
thought a man could look good in just an unbuttoned shirt before, but he looked
great. His eagerness for her had been flattering. In fact, she hadn’t even
minded standing naked in front of him. It felt right.

And yet, she knew what would feel even more right. She knelt
on the floor in front of him, her knees sinking into the plush white carpet.
Encouraged by his smile, she moved her hands behind her back and grasped her
right wrist in her left hand.

His cock was awfully close, and was still semihard. And
getting harder. Her eyes widened.

“You kinda have that effect on me, darlin’. Especially
kneeling.”

She blushed. He knew where she was looking, obviously. She
looked up as he pulled his shirt off. Nice, rounded shoulders.
God, he’s
built.
But then his cock was still at eye level, and it was hard to look
away from that for long. “Would it have more of an effect if I spread my legs a
little?”

“Yes. And even more if you took me into your mouth.”

“Was that a direction, Sir?” She spread her knees apart. She
didn’t care that she was exposed, as long as it turned him on.

“There might be a little latex taste leftover. Can you deal
with that?”

She was surprised he cared. “Yes.” She didn’t want to taste
anything but him, but it was worth it.

“Then it’s an order, darlin’.” He nested his hands in her tresses.

“Mmm.” He didn’t seem to need any more help recovering. By
the time her lips made contact with the purplish head of his cock, he was fully
erect again. There was no way she could take all of that in her mouth. Stu’s
dick hadn’t been half that size. If he tried to force his way down her throat
the way Stu always did, she’d gag for sure. The strangest thing was, even
though she’d always hated that, she didn’t care. Hopefully, Nick would do as he
pleased.

He didn’t push her down, just gently nudged, his hand
featherlight on the back of her head. She took more of him in, fighting the
urge to grab him with a hand or two to stop his cock from going in too far. She
trusted him. He tasted salty, but what really struck her was the deep,
masculine, musky smell of him. She wanted to take him farther in just so her
nose could nuzzle closer to his body.

Even the light pressure he was exerting disappeared by the
time the tip of his cock tickled against the back of her throat. She relaxed.
She wasn’t totally in control, but she had enough. She swallowed and edged him
back deeper. She wanted to take as much of him as she possibly could.

Then suddenly, it was too much. She wanted to take him all
the way down, and her body rebelled, choking and making her eyes tear until she
pulled back. She couldn’t even keep her hands in place, although they weren’t
doing anything useful. She looked up at him, dreading what his expression might
hold.

But all she saw was concern. “Easy, darlin’. I see you need
some guidance. Let’s try that again. Just a few inches this time.”

She nodded, glad he hadn’t given up on her. She slid her
lips over his cock again, feeling them stretch at his girth, her tongue
brushing against the underside. He tasted better now; maybe she’d cleaned off
all the latex the first time. His hands were on the side of her head, his grip
still gentle but firm. Slowly he guided her down, and then stopped her before
her gag reflex kicked in again. He held her there for a second while her
breathing settled. Then, to her surprise, he slid her back rather than farther
on.

This time, he moved his hand to the top of her head, burying
his fingers in her hair again. His hand felt wonderful there. His other hand
tugged at her right shoulder, and she gave him her hand. He wrapped it around
the base of his shaft, positioning so that the edge of her fist was where her
lips had reached, and then tapped on the back of her skull once.

She didn’t have to be told twice. He was showing her exactly
how he wanted it, without lecturing and without acting as if she should already
know. The hand might be there to protect her from gagging, but it was there
because he wanted it to be. She gave his shaft a squeeze, and slid her mouth
down it once more, pressing her lips as tightly over it as she could. A barely
audible moan told her all she needed to know. But it didn’t hurt her ego any
that he told her too. “Perfect, darlin’.”

She put her other hand on his hard, muscled thigh to help
steady herself. She licked along the underside of his cock, moving her tongue
left to right as she slowly moved back, letting him almost escape her mouth
before going down on him again. His moan got louder. She hummed in
satisfaction, imagining the vibrations traveling all the way up his spine.

“You keep doing that, you’re going to get a mouthful,” he
said, his voice making it sound like a warning.

She let him go for a moment. “As long as I get to please
you, I’m happy, Sir. Yours to use, as you wish.” She shivered, hearing her own
voice say the words. But she wasn’t afraid. Not of Nick.

“You’ve been hard used, love, I want to go gentle on you.”

She smiled. “I don’t think you need to worry. You’re not a
hard user.” She took his cock back into her mouth. She didn’t trust herself not
to say something she’d have to take back.
I can’t be falling in love with
him. But even if I am, I can’t let him know. It’s not fair to either of us.

A moment later, his cock pulsed and swelled in her mouth,
just as she was withdrawing, her lips even with the edge of his glans. She
hesitated for a moment between pulling off and diving forward. His hand guided
her forward without forcing, and she knew what he wanted. She tugged with her
hand as she brought her mouth toward it, and then he flooded her mouth, his
seed salty and strong on her tongue. She swallowed, relishing the way it burned
going down her throat. Like whiskey, she felt she ought to hate it, and yet she
didn’t. His cock kept throbbing, giving her more, and she sucked it all up
eagerly, proud she hadn’t let a drop escape.

“Oh Zoe, darlin’.”

She pressed her lips together as she let him escape her
mouth at last, and looked up at him. “Did I please you, Sir?”

“You know you did. You just want to make me say it.” He
laughed. “Yes, you pleased me. Do please me. And I hate to say it, but it might
take me a few minutes to recover from that.”

She grinned. “We have all night.”

“Good.” Did she imagine the look of sadness that crossed his
face? Just the one night. Was he thinking it too?

Chapter Seven

She’d told him he didn’t need to come to the airport with
her. Did she honestly think he wouldn’t?

“Well, if you’re ever in the States, look me up.” Zoe said
the words breezily enough. But in her unguarded moments, she looked as if she
was heading for a firing squad. He’d been sneaking lots of peeks while she
checked her baggage. He wanted to think her grim face was because she knew she
was going to miss him, but he had a feeling there was more going on than that.
Was she in danger?

Nick knew he was going to miss her. But he’d also known from
the start that she was from half a world away, and that she’d return there. He
hadn’t had any illusions. He’d fantasized about her turning around and saying
she wasn’t going, but he didn’t expect it. He needed to deal with reality, and
that started with asking the question that bothered him.

“Are you going to be safe?”

“Me? Of course. No place as safe as Texas.” She grinned, and
again he questioned its sincerity. “I think Stu and I are going to have to have
a little chat, but he’ll see he has to move on. He’s mean but he’s not stupid.
And it’s not as if he ever loved me. He’s not going to risk his precious self
to do anything to me.”

“You loved him once, didn’t you?”

“I said I would be safe. I never claimed to be smart.”

Nick frowned at her. “No, but you clearly are. Being smart
doesn’t mean not making mistakes.”

Zoe laughed hollowly. “I certainly never claimed not to make
mistakes. I’ll send email, okay? I promise, if you’re really concerned.”

“I don’t know if I have reason to be concerned, but I
definitely care. So email would be appreciated.”

Zoe stood on her toes and kissed him. “Thank you for
everything you’ve done for me, Nick. For giving me courage, and for showing me
your beautiful city. What’s the saying you taught me? She’ll be right, mate!
I’ll be right. Better than ever. I’m not going to settle for anything less for
myself.”

He grinned at her. “Good on you.”

She laughed again, and this time maybe she meant it. “I’m
going to miss hearing you talk.” She covered her mouth. “I didn’t mean that as
insulting or patronizing or anything.”

He kissed her back. “Wasn’t taken that way. I’m going to
miss you too.”

“Maybe we could have a chat on the internet someday. I think
I’ve always thought cybering and such was just a little lame, but I might be
persuaded, for you.”

He’d always thought it was lame himself. He wanted a real
woman in his arms, and there was usually no shortage of women willing to be
there. But for Zoe, maybe. “We should definitely chat. The rest, we’ll see how
it goes, okay?”

“It’s too far for a relationship.”

He wanted to argue. But he didn’t want to lie to her either.
So he nodded.

“I better go. Don’t want to miss my plane.”

He nodded again. What was there to say?
Stay. I can give
you a job helping me in the office.
He didn’t want her to go, but he didn’t
want to make it harder on her either. His role had been to help her heal so
that she could find a good relationship someday. A relationship with some other
man. The thought made his gut twist painfully, but he knew he should wish her
well. “Have a good life, Zoe.”

She turned away before she managed, “You too.” Were those
tears in her eyes, making them glisten? She broke into a run after a couple of
steps. She wasn’t that late, but airports did their best to make everyone worry
about time, and he had to leave the decision of when to go in her hands. He
didn’t want her to catch the damn plane in the first place.

So he watched her from afar as she got in the line for the
security screeners. She didn’t look back. Maybe it was better that way. Even
though he hungered for her glance, another meeting of gazes probably wouldn’t
help either of them cope. Eventually, they waved her through, she picked up her
purse on the other side and headed out of sight.

I’m gonna be a long time forgetting her.

He headed home.

* * * * *

Five weeks later

“You want what?” Nick asked.

Blake Andrews’ Texan drawl reminded him of Zoe, as if he
needed anything to remind him. He hadn’t forgotten her voice, her face, her
body or anything about her.

“I want you to bring some of your boys to Dallas and see if
they have what it takes to become punters.”

He knew enough about gridiron, or as Americans called it,
football, to know that a punter wasn’t someone who stood in line to place a
bet. Since all positions in Australian rules football involved kicking the ball
for distance and accuracy, and hell, actually using your feet, Australian kids
developed skills few Americans did. A number of them had been recruited to
serve as punters on teams in America, with some success. But this guy was talking
about recruiting for high school football teams. Surely that wouldn’t merit
importing talent from abroad.

“Of course, they’ll have to learn to wear pads and stuff. We
play rough over here,” said the Texan.

“Bah. If you were tough as an Aussie, you wouldn’t need the
pads. How close is Dallas to Fort Worth, anyhow?”

“Just a hop, skip and a jump. Why?”

“Just wondering. And you’ll pay the kids’ expenses?”

“Yep, both ways.”

Nick shook his head. Who’d foot the international flight
bills for a bunch of high school athletes? Apparently they took their gridiron
pretty seriously in Texas, even at that level. The man claimed to represent a
consortium of high schools. He’d follow up and do some research to make sure
Blake was on the up-and-up. “Well, I’ll talk to the lads and their parents and
see what they think. I’ll get back to you next Tuesday?”

“Sounds good. I look forward to meeting you, Nick. I hear
you’re one of the best. We’ll have some local kids there too, seeing if they
can pick up a bit from you and your boys. Later!”

Nick clicked the phone off and leaned back in his chair. Zoe
had emailed him as soon as she got home, and for weeks they had chatted
virtually every day. But now it had been a week since he’d heard from her. He’d
gotten no replies to his emails. Their last conversation had been about
politics, and he’d thought they’d been in agreement more or less, although it
was hard to tell because he knew only slightly more about Democrats and
Republicans than she knew about Liberals and Labor. But it was hard to read
people over email, and it was easy to mistake silence for assent.

He didn’t give a damn what her politics were, but maybe he’d
offended her in some way. Still, he’d thought she’d have the guts to say
something to break it off, if that was what it was about. No matter how strong
she seemed though, he couldn’t forget she’d been hurt deeply. She was safe
enough from him, ten thousand miles away—heck, she’d be safe from him a foot
away—but getting beat up could make one instinctively avoid conflict.

The other possibility was that something bad had happened,
and she was in a hospital somewhere. He’d mentioned to her that one of the
downsides of knowing someone only online was that one had no way to know if
something bad happened. They’d agreed to send each other an email address for
someone to contact, but she’d never gotten to it.

Maybe she’d met someone. Again, he thought she’d let him
know. He’d had a sub he’d thought of as a friend blow him off completely a few
months after they’d broken up, and later on had her breezily explain that her
new Master had ordered her to have nothing to do with him, as if that justified
it. He couldn’t see Zoe getting in that kind of relationship though. She’d gone
through an abusive situation before, and she’d be quick to recognize another
one. She was strong now. Wasn’t she?

Even if he flew out, he’d have little time to look for her.
His first priority would have to be the kids he brought with him, as much as he
might want it to be otherwise. Possibly a parent or two could be convinced to
come along, and that would give him a little free time. But he didn’t have her
address or her phone number. He knew her full name, but he’d already checked
for a phone and address listing online, and there wasn’t one. She’d mentioned the
name of the BDSM club she used to go to, Secrets, but she hadn’t sounded as if
she had plans to go there again anytime soon. That was his only lead, other
than checking hospitals.

Maybe I’ll hear from her before then.
He opened his
laptop and started an email. The football trip might or might not be on. That
would depend on the boys. But he’d come to a decision. Football or no, he was
flying out. He didn’t know if his relationship with Zoe could blossom into
something more than it was, especially with the two of them living so far away.
Maybe the football trip would lead to something more permanent though, some way
for him to make his living in Texas. He didn’t want to leave Australia, but who
knew? One way or the other he needed to find out. If she’d moved on, fine. But
he wasn’t going to let it end with silence.

Maybe she’d welcome the news that he’d be in town. Maybe
she’d tell him not to bother. Either way would be better than silence.

* * * * *

Zoe hadn’t returned his email, and none of the hospitals in
and around Fort Worth admitted to having her either. Given her history, he
supposed it was possible they might have her and not be telling strange men who
called, but if that was the case there wasn’t much he could do. He couldn’t
drive around to every hospital.

That left Secrets. He didn’t expect to find Zoe there, but
maybe he’d find someone who knew her. And if he ran into the twisted fuck who’d
burned her with a cigarette, he might get to practice his left hook—but only
after seeing if the man knew anything about her current whereabouts. Although
from what Zoe had said, Stu didn’t know where she was living and she intended
to keep it that way.

Secrets was a long drive from where he was staying in
Dallas, and isolated. The brown stucco exterior hadn’t been repainted since it
was called the Big Thirst Tavern. The letters that proclaimed it such were
gone, but not the faded ghosts where those letters had protected the wall from
the weather. Probably the sign had been neon. The new name was emblazoned in tiny
letters on the door, much smaller than the numbers of the address. He’d almost
driven past it. Driving on the right-hand side of the road required more of his
concentration than driving on the left.

He walked in. There was a black-walled anteroom with a red
leatherette couch. On a chair, behind a black-painted bar, was a curvy bleached
blonde whose white-and-blue bolero jacket didn’t seem to attach in the middle.
She had no blouse or bra underneath, and normally Nick would have been
interested in seeing what the jacket might reveal with her movements. But she
wasn’t Zoe.

“Haven’t seen you around before, sugar,” said the girl.

“Haven’t been here before either.” At least his accent would
probably stop her from thinking he was a cop. “What’s the cover?”

“Thirty dollars if you’re new, I’m afraid. You know anyone
here who will vouch for you? That’d get it down to twenty.”

“Zoe Calder. Do you know her? Is she here tonight?”

The woman shook her head. “I know her, but she’s not here.
Haven’t seen her in ages, actually. So I guess it’s the thirty.”

“No worries,” Nick said, and counted three tens from his
wallet. His odds had gone down. The only bright side was not being told that
Zoe was there with another Dom. If she’d needed to move on, he thought he could
deal with that, in time. But he’d be disappointed in her if she wasn’t
answering his emails just to avoid having to tell him.

The woman shifted her weight, and Nick wondered if there was
something wrong with her seat or if she was wearing a butt plug, until he realized
that the whole motion was meant to bounce her breasts. By some miracle her
nipples remained covered. “Maybe we can hook up later this evening?” she asked.
Her accent reminded him painfully of Zoe.

Even if Zoe was over him, the last thing he wanted was to
get attached to another Texan girl. He was tempted to tell himself that it
would be for the evening, nothing more. Ships that pass in the night. But that
was what he thought about Zoe, and now he couldn’t get her out of his head.
Besides, he’d be rebounding. “No thank you. But I do appreciate the scenery.”

The woman blushed but clearly didn’t know what to say, so he
left the room through the black door and headed into the club. He decided he’d
watch for an hour and see if he could get a feel for who might be a good person
to ask about Zoe. He had all night, but the next day he had to be back with his
footballers bright and early, and it didn’t look as if he’d have any more free
time to speak of until the night before they were due to head back to Melbourne,
four days away. Two parents were along to chaperone, but it wasn’t fair to
stick them with the kids, even if he wanted to. Besides, he enjoyed spending
time with the youngsters.

The inside of the club was dark, lit only by some dim bulbs
high up on the ceiling. Loud music somewhere on the edge between rock and
country blared from the loudspeakers. A sub would have to really yell a safe
word to be heard. He walked around the edge of the club, scanning faces in case
the woman at the door was wrong about Zoe not being there, but he didn’t see
her. He had to spend a few minutes watching a woman whose face was shielded by
a leather hood to be absolutely sure, but once her dress came off to reveal
unblemished skin he knew it definitely wasn’t Zoe.

He wondered if the hood was on because she was concealing
her identity or because of the sensory deprivation aspects of it; possibly
both, he supposed. He wasn’t fond of anything that restricted air flow. Too
many things could go wrong, although he recognized those who wanted the
experience badly enough could probably anticipate what could go wrong enough to
make it adequately safe. A little research did wonders, but too many novices
didn’t seem to realize that gags and hoods were actually much more dangerous
than floggers and paddles.