Spring Training (15 page)

“I know, and I’m eternally grateful for that. But what else do you want, Brooke? You know my feelings on seeing you with a woman. Tell me if I’m wrong, but I think perhaps your limits on that subject are changing.”

“You aren’t wrong, Sir. I don’t know why, but my thoughts
are
changing. Perhaps it’s because of our last session, or maybe it’s because of Mistress Lola. I don’t know what has brought this about.”

“You seemed to enjoy eating pussy last week.”

Memories she’d tried unsuccessfully to squash rushed in, causing her skin to tingle. Master Todd never balked at frank talk, and it didn’t usually bother her either, but she was intimately aware of the woman listening to their conversation. “Yes, Master. I didn’t want to do it, but I knew you would enjoy it, so I did it. I wanted to please you, and I wanted you to be proud of me.”

“I’m always proud of you, slave. You are the strongest person I know, and your actions last week proved it to me yet again.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

“So are you telling me you would enjoy having Mistress Lola eat your pussy?”

She’d refused the woman’s attentions once, afraid her growing attraction for the Domme would be too powerful for her to hide from her Master. He
would
enjoy watching them together. And no matter how hard she tried to tell herself her feelings and desires were wrong, she couldn’t make herself believe. She opened her mouth to tell him yes, she wanted everything they’d discussed, but nothing came out. She nodded instead.

“That won’t do, slave.” With one demanding finger, Todd forced her chin up. Their gazes locked. The banked fire in his eyes sent a bolt of heat to her core. “Tell me plain, girl. Do you want Mistress Lola to eat your pussy or not?”

She couldn’t lie to him, not when he looked at her as if she were the only woman in the world, and he her devoted slave. In that moment, she understood he would do anything to make her happy, just as she would do anything for him. She would do this for both of them, and God help her if he saw more than the physical pleasure she was certain awaited her. “Yes, Master. I want you to fuck me. Then I want Mistress Lola to eat my pussy.”

“Christ Almighty, Brooke.” He brushed a thumb over her lips. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

His kiss consumed her. It was all she could do to hold on for the ride as his desire flared between them like a brush fire. Yet he was in control, building the flames higher with skilled precision. Brooke was only partially aware of him carrying her across the room. Mistress Lola sat on the platform bed, her back against the wall. Master Todd laid her between the Domme’s outstretched legs.

“My turn first,” he said, unlacing his leathers.

His cock sprang free, as engorged as she’d ever seen it. Brooke opened for him, sliding down to give him room to mount her. Mistress Lola caught Brooke’s wrists, bringing them up to wrap around her thighs.

“Keep them there, girl.” A firm hand on her forehead brought her head against the woman’s stomach. “Lie back for your Master.”

Master Todd came over her, impaling her in a thrust that had her tightening her grip on the Domme’s legs. Brooke held on as he took her hard and fast. The effort to maintain control carved deep lines in his face as he hovered above her on taut arms. Her breasts ached to feel his chest pressing against her. She arched her back in an effort to get closer to him. Mistress Lola’s hands closed over her breasts, squeezing them until Brooke saw stars. She cried out from the pain then, suddenly, the pressure was gone.

“You have sensitive tits, girl. They should be put to good use.” Brooke barely had time to register the woman’s words before the Domme pinched one nipple between her fingers, giving the tight bud a harsh tug before attaching an alligator-style clamp.

Brooke’s head spun. She writhed with the pain even as her Master continued to pound into her pussy.

“So lovely, girl. So fucking lovely.” She repeated the process with the other nipple.

Brooke ground her teeth, absorbing the pain until it became a dull ache that acted in counterpoint to the exquisite feel of her Master’s cock sliding in and out of her wet channel.

“Fuck, that’s hot,” Master said. “Look at the way she takes the pain. She’s a work of art.”

“Yes, she is.” Mistress Lola flicked both clamps at the same time.

Twin bolts of lightning shot through Brooke’s body all the way to her fingertips and toes, quickening between her legs. She sucked in a ragged breath in an effort to keep the fresh wave of pain from sucking her under.

“You’re a lucky man, Master Todd, to have a slave like this one.”

Brooke ran her tongue over her dry lips. Her breasts throbbed in tandem with her Master’s thrusts. She understood this fucking wasn’t for her pleasure, but her body responded anyway. Todd’s angle brought his pubic bone in contact with her clit every time he bottomed out inside her. Much more and she would come.

“Please,” she begged permission.

“Shh, girl.” Mistress Lola cupped Brooke’s chin, forcing her lips together. Then she jammed a finger in Brooke’s mouth. “Suck, slave. Suck both of us off.”

The digit speared in and out. Brooke sucked, tasting the salty tang of Mistress Lola’s skin, inhaling the soft floral scent she must have dabbed on her wrists.

It was too much. Every muscle in her body coiled like an over-wound wind-up toy. The spring snapped before she could stop it. Her body convulsed. She tried to open her mouth to cry out, but she couldn’t budge the hand holding her chin. Her screams turned to whimpers that filled her head like cotton, insulating her from what sounded like sharp curses.

Another flick to the clamp on her right nipple sharpened her focus on the man above her, filling her. Her pussy clenched around his cock buried deep inside her.

“You’re mine.” He pulled out slowly then filled her again and again. On the third thrust, he repeated through gritted teeth, “Mine,” then spilled his seed inside her.

Todd collapsed beside his slave, pulling her to him as Mistress Lola slipped out from under her. “Come here, babe.” He lay on his side, his length pressed against her from shoulder to hip as she lay on her back. “That was beautiful, slave. I love to feel you come, and I love to shoot you full of my cum.” One hand drifted between her legs, his fingers sliding through their combined fluids.

“Time to clean you up.” Lifting her leg, he draped it over one of his, opening her. His thighs imprisoned her leg while he slipped his arm beneath her head. Snuggling close to her, he said, “I know you don’t want to enjoy this, but I order you to let the pleasure happen, slave. Don’t fight it.”

The first brush of heated breath on her moist tissues sent a shudder through her. Firm but slim fingers parted her. Brooke groaned, imagining the other woman examining her. When her tongue lapped her from back to front, Brooke buried her face against Todd’s chest.

“Look, slave. See the beauty between your legs?” He shifted his muscled arm, urging her to watch. Her heart raced so fast she was afraid it might explode, but she looked.

Glancing down, she met Mistress Lola’s gaze. Time seemed to stall as the two women connected. A smile lit the woman’s eyes then she turned her attention to driving Brooke wild. Her tongue was wicked, her lips and teeth skilled. Brooke couldn’t remain still. She moved her hips, rocking against the kiss, taking what she needed, letting the feel of her drive everything else out of her head except the pleasure between her legs and the loving comfort of the man holding her.

“Jesus, Brooke.” He placed a hand low on her stomach. The added pressure, the intimacy of the gesture nearly broke her in two.

“Master. Oh, God, Master.” With every movement she made, her breasts bounced, setting off new waves of pain courtesy of the clamps on her nipples.

Todd kissed her temple. “Feels good, doesn’t it, babe?”

“Oh, God, yes!”

“Let it come. Don’t fight it. Let me see you come, baby.” The seductive words rumbled from his chest, emerging as hoarse whispers against her ear. “You are so fucking beautiful.”

The love in his words became her safety net. She let go of her worries about feeling too much for someone other than her Master, instead basking in the assurance he would catch her no matter how far the tumble—because he loved her.

Her orgasm wasn’t any less powerful than the one before for all its gentleness in comparison. She didn’t so much convulse as quake, her body shaking with tremors that rolled through her from core to her extremities. Through it all, her Master held her, crooning words of wonder and love in her ear.

She shuddered as Mistress Lola placed a kiss on Brooke’s inner thigh then crawled up to lay on her other side. Sandwiched between two warm bodies, Brooke had never felt as loved as she did in that moment. Tears spilled from her eyes. Her lips trembled with pent-up emotion.

Then, in unison, her lovers each removed one of her nipple clamps. Brooke screamed, arching her back as blood rushed to the deprived tissue. Just when she thought she might pass out from the pain, a set of lips closed over each tortured nub, soothing and transforming agony into ecstasy.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Todd took a few practice swings then stepped into the batter’s box. The past few days, he’d hit more homeruns than he had since Spring Training began. Several people asked what was up with his sudden ability, and all he could think to say was he felt good.

It was the truth. He felt better than he had in a long time. The fatigue that plagued him due to the late nights spent with Mistress Lola had evaporated. He felt energized, and it was all because Brooke was with him. Loving her nightly was better than any performance-enhancing drug known to man. If he could bottle what she did for him, he’d be a rich man.

Hell, he was a rich man, and it had nothing to do with the size of his bank account. Brooke was his treasure, which made the damned trade rumor hanging over him even worse. If he agreed to the trade, he’d have to leave Brooke behind in Dallas. She had a business there and family. Their Master/slave agreement didn’t extend to the outside world. He couldn’t just order her to sell or close her business and follow him across the country.

“You ready, Todd?” He glanced to the coaching team situated behind the chain link practice backstop.

“Yeah. Bring it on.”

He grounded the first and second pitches down the third base line. Adjusting for the pitch speed, the third one sailed to deep left field. The fourth made it over the wall in left field. The fifth cleared the wall in deep center field.

“You’re done, superman.”

Todd nodded at Jake Tulleson, the Mustangs’ batting coach, and surrendered the batter’s box to the next player awaiting a turn. Dropping his bat into the dugout rack, he turned to find one of the younger players, Chip Matthews, staring at him. He’d never particularly liked the kid, who’d tried his best to weasel his way into a starting infield position ever since he came up from the Minor League two seasons ago. “What do you want, Matthews?”

“I hear you’re being traded to the Waves.”

“Where did you hear that?”

“Does it matter? You’re old news for the Mustangs, which means good news for me.”

“How do you figure? They can’t trade me without my consent.” He’d be damned if he agreed to a trade if it meant letting this turd have his position on the field.

“You know as well as I do that those clauses aren’t ironclad. If the Mustangs want you gone, you’ll be packing your shit before the ink dries on the trade agreement.”

Todd skirted around the punk to get to the water jug. After drawing a large cup full, he sat on the bench to enjoy the cool drink. “I don’t have time to listen to a bunch of crap. If you have something to say, just say it then get the hell out of my sight.”

Chip sauntered over to block Todd’s view of the field. “I see the way you’ve been hitting the last few days. Everyone is wondering what’s come over you. An old man like you, batting like that? There’s only one explanation for that kind of sudden improvement. Juice.”

Todd, who had been trying to catch a glimpse of batting practice, jerked his gaze up to the vermin standing in front of him. He lowered his voice to a growl. “What did you just say?”

“I said you’re using PEDs. That’s steroids to you old-timers. You all turn to them eventually. Your career is in the toilet, so what do you do? Pop a few gummies, pop a few pitches out of the park. Voila! You’re back on top.” The rat leaned down so his face was inches from Todd’s. “You won’t get away with it. The Mustangs already suspect, or they wouldn’t be putting you on the auction block.”

Todd stood, fists clenched at his sides, forcing the smaller man to retreat a few steps. “You don’t know shit, rat face. Why don’t you crawl back into whatever hole you came out of and leave the ball playing to the men?”

The idiot didn’t have enough sense to be afraid. He stood his ground. “Just you wait and see, old man. Come opening day, we’ll see who’s standing on third base.” With a sneer on his lips, he headed toward the exit.

“I know who it won’t be. You!” Todd called to the rodent’s back, adding under his breath, “Asshole.”

He sat down, rubbing a hand over his face. Damned idiot kid. If he spouted his venomous shit to the right people, all hell would break loose. The media loved to speculate about players taking drugs or doing anything illegal or immoral. They lived for scandal.

Todd breathed deep then let it out. He couldn’t very well tell anyone the real reason for the recent improvement in his batting. Kinky sex with the woman he loved, with a Domme thrown in for good measure, was more scandalous than taking PEDs. Not to mention admitting to such a thing would mean dragging innocent people’s private lives through the mud along with his.

He’d long since quit caring what anyone thought of his sexual proclivities, but there was more to consider than just him. Lurid details of his private life wouldn’t reflect well on the team and, in turn, would invite scrutiny of every player in the League. He was well aware there was a lot of kinky shit going on that was none of anyone’s business but the people involved.

“Hey, you okay?”

Todd nearly jumped out of his skin, recovering when he noticed Jason Holder filling a cup at the water jug.

“Yeah,” he sighed. “Just thinking.”

Jason smiled. “About Brooke?” Drinking from his cup, he sat next to Todd. “You had that faraway look in your eyes.”

An image of his slave, naked and open for him, flashed in his mind. He’d do anything to keep what he had with her private. “No, but I’ve got a problem.”

“The trade?”

Todd shrugged. “Indirectly. What do you know about Matthews?”

“The shithead? Not much. He thought he was going to get first base last year when Sean retired, but that didn’t happen. The only infield positions he’s not interested in are catcher and pitcher, because he has no talent for one, and he’s afraid his pretty face might get messed up if he played the other.”

Todd smiled at his friend’s assessment of their teammate. “He just threatened me.”

“With what?”

“He knows about the trade rumor. He wants my position, and he’s prepared to do whatever it takes to get me off the team, even hint to the right people that I’m using PED’s.”

“Well, shit.” Jason drained his cup, crumpled it in his hand and chunked it across the dugout. It hit the wall, ricocheting back at them. He kicked it to the middle of the floor.

“I’m sorry, man. I wasn’t thinking.”

Jason had been accused of using PEDs last year and had come out on the winning side. Ironically, the reporter responsible for breaking the story as well as putting it to rest was none other than Jason’s sub, Carrie.

“No, don’t be sorry. I’m past that shit.” His friend filled two cups from the water jug then returned to his seat, handing one to Todd. “We’ve got to put a stop to it before he brings a shitload of crap down on the entire team.”

“Yeah. But I don’t have a clue how to do that. He said there was already speculation as to why my hitting has improved the last few days.”

Jason harrumphed. “Brooke?”

“Yep. But I can’t tell him that. He’d go to the press to expose my private life, and Lord knows the scandal from that would be worse for the team than any PED use, real or imagined.”

“I hear you. Carrie and I had a similar problem, but it turned out I have an indisputable reason for not using steroids. You don’t happen to have a heart problem, do you?”

“Nope. At least not the kind you’re thinking of. Brooke is my heart. I’ll agree to a trade before I’ll let that piece of shit, Matthews, drag her through the mud.”

“Then we need to think of a way to shut him up before he screws the whole team.”

Todd took a sip of water. “Now you know where I was when you came in. I was trying to think of a way to stop him, short of murder.”

“Count on me to help you bury him.”

“I’m sure you mean that in a figurative way, so thanks.”

“I mean that any way necessary. I’ve got your back, bro. You can count on Jeff, too.”

“Thanks.” Todd stood, gathering his glove from the back of the bench. “If you think of anything helpful, let me know.”

“Hey,” Jason called to him. Todd stopped and turned to his friend. “Don’t let him get to you. We’ll figure this thing out. You just keep
hitting
, and everything will be okay.”

With a wave and a smile for the intentional double entendre, Todd jogged out to field ground balls for a while. He appreciated Jason’s support, and he’d call out the cavalry, if need be, but he hoped it wouldn’t come to that. Weathering a drug scandal might be the easiest path he could choose since he had zero to worry about in that regard. He’d never used and never would. The team had survived a steroid shit-storm before. They’d do it again.

Still, it bothered him to think team management might think he was using. Maybe he’d be better off confronting them about their suspicions, offering to take a drug test right up front. But if they weren’t thinking he was using, he’d be throwing shit at the fan for no reason. That alone might get his ass traded.

For once in his life, he almost wished he had a heart condition like Jason. That and a drug test would end any speculation about him using PEDs. But as solid as his heart was, he knew it wouldn’t stop Matthews. The man would find another way to muck things up. He’d never seen a more determined asshole. The best thing he could do was see that the man himself was traded. Why the Mustangs kept him was a riddle he couldn’t solve.

***

Brooke lifted her arms above her head. Stretching felt good after hours of standing in the kitchen. She had two cakes and two different kinds of cookies to show for her efforts. She wasn’t sure about one of the cakes, but the cookies and the other cake were definitely going to make an appearance at Baked by Brooke. Adding a California Pinot Noir to the chocolate batter and glaze resulted in a rich dessert that tasted like chocolate covered cherries. People were going to eat it up, especially around Valentine’s Day and Christmas.

After making sure her confections were tightly covered, she headed to the shower. Time had gotten away from her as it often did when she was baking. If she didn’t hustle, she’d be late for Todd’s game, and then who would eat all her creations? Smiling, she ducked under the spray, washing away fatigue and sweat from a day spent in the tiny kitchen with a three-hundred-fifty-degree oven going.

Getting to the stadium didn’t take long. Driving Todd’s car since he’d bummed a ride with a teammate, she was allowed access to the team’s parking lot. The security guard at the gate called someone to help her with the goodies she’d brought to share with friends and family members in the clubhouse after the game.

Todd had explained how the team celebrated the manager’s birthday every year with a potluck after a game. He had helpfully offered to have her bring dessert.

She didn’t mind. It gave her an excuse to try out new recipes then quiz the guinea pigs as to the results.

The Mustangs beat the Claim Jumpers by three runs, thanks to Todd’s homerun in the eighth inning. Brooke smiled as everyone in the clubhouse congratulated her man. He accepted the accolades with the quiet reserve she’d come to recognize as shyness. He played baseball because he loved the game and the competition. The fame was something he tolerated because it came with the territory. In truth, he was a very private and modest person.

She loved that she knew him well enough to see what he hid from most of the world. Warmth spread through her when he spied her in the crowd. Excusing himself from the kids surrounding him with a promise to answer all their questions in a few minutes, he headed her way.

“Hi, gorgeous. Are you here with someone?”

She loved his teasing tone. “I was looking for my man. Perhaps you’ve seen him? He’s a homerun hitter, a real hero to children and bakers.”

His eyes sparkled as he pretended to puzzle over her words. “I don’t think he’s here, but I am. Might I escort you around while you look for this paragon you speak of?”

“You may,” she said, going up on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. “I saw your homerun. You’re everyone’s hero tonight.”

His arms slid around her waist, pulling her close. “I only want to be your hero.”

“Always.” She traced the blue satin Mustangs logo sewn across the front of his red jersey. “You smell good,” she said, trying to move closer without causing a scene.

“Only to you.” He kissed her on the forehead. “I promised the kids a few minutes of my time, then I’ve got to get a shower. Will you be alright hanging out in here until I get back?”

She scanned the room. Besides the kids, there were about a dozen women she’d never met, wives and girlfriends, she supposed. One older woman spoke to her friend, Carrie. “I’ll be fine. Do what you have to do, and don’t worry about me.”

He was immediately swamped by the kids, boys and girls alike, clambering to celebrate with the hero of today’s game. Brooke headed toward the one other person she knew. Carrie welcomed her with a smile, introducing her to Cathy Walker, the guest of honor’s wife.

“It’s so nice to meet you, Brooke.” The older woman’s smile was reassuring.

“It’s nice to meet you, too. Todd speaks well of your husband.”