by Roz Lee
When the doorbell rang, she jerked her head out of the refrigerator. Her heart stuttered, and her feet felt like lead weights anchoring her to the floor. Judging by the way they continued to push the button, whoever was at her door wasn’t going away. Half the tenants of the apartment building were most likely plotting a murder right now. The walls were that thin.
Forcing her feet to move, she went to the door and looked through the peep hole. Royce Stryker stared back at her.
“Tricia. Open up. I know you’re in there.”
She was torn between never wanting to see the man again and wondering why he was there. If he had something to say to her, a phone call would have sufficed. He pressed the bell again. She rolled her eyes at the audacity of the man, and opened the door.
“Stop it! You’re annoying my neighbors.”
He didn’t wait for an invitation. He advanced on her, and she instinctively backed away from the door. His gaze raked over the room behind her. “What took you so long? Do you have company?”
Tricia turned sideways, sweeping her arm to encompass her tiny apartment. “As you can see, it’s just me. Say what you’ve got to say, and leave.”
“You’re still mad at me.”
“You bet your ass, I am.” Tears she’d held at bay all afternoon threatened. “I was trying to help you, and you were there to spy on me.”
“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I hated lying to you. If it’s any consolation, I was just waiting for a time to meet with Doyle, so I could tell him he didn’t have anything to worry about.”
“I don’t understand what he thought I was doing? I’ve explained my project to people at every level in the League.”
“He had his concerns.” He went on to explain the manager’s worries about misuse of her research.
“That’s absurd.”
“Agreed, but I won’t fault him for watching out for the players. Someone has to. Which brings me to why I’m here.” He held up a dark bottle she hadn’t noticed him carrying. “Champagne, compliments of Doyle Walker and the entire Mustangs Baseball organization.” He headed for the kitchen, again without invitation.
“What are we celebrating?” It was obvious he wasn’t going to leave, so she decided to go along for the time being. Champagne on an empty stomach probably wasn’t a good idea, but she was beyond caring at this point.
“Tony’s complete recovery, of course.” He opened a cabinet door, shut it, and moved to another. “Where are your Champagne glasses?”
“I don’t have any. Water glasses are to the right of the sink.” She tried to tamp down the elation building inside her. For all she knew, they might have operated on the man today. “The surgery was a success?”
He set two glasses on the counter and slammed the cabinet door. Her neighbors were going to love her.
“He didn’t have surgery.” Royce went to work on the wire cage securing the cork. “It took some manipulating on the part of the chiropractor, but Tony’s good as new. He’s going to sit out tomorrow, give him some time to work the soreness out, but everyone agrees, he’s good to go.”
“Everyone?”
“Yeah.” He thumbed the cork loose and poured a generous amount in each glass. “They X-rayed him enough to give him cancer or something, but couldn’t find a thing wrong with him. He even took a few swings, and threw the ball a couple of times in the batting cage. Said he was a little stiff, but other than a little minor discomfort, he felt fine. He said to tell you you’re his hero and the next bottle of bubbly is on him.”
She took the glass he held out to her, lifting it to mirror the one he held aloft. “To you, Dr. Reed. You may have single-handedly saved the Mustangs’ season.” They clinked glasses.
Tricia let the bubbles dance on her tongue before she swallowed. She wasn’t an expert on such things, but there wasn’t anything cheap about the taste of the sparkling wine. She took another drink. “I didn’t do anything.”
“One of the things I love about you, Dr. Reed, is the fact that you aren’t stupid. However, your last comment was one of the stupidest things I’ve ever heard.”
Tricia placed the glass carefully on the counter. Drinking on an empty stomach had, indeed, been a bad idea. She could have sworn she just heard him say he loved her. “Not stupid if it’s true.”
His eyes narrowed to slits. He placed his drink next to hers. “Saying ridiculous things could get you spanked, Dr. Reed.”
The thimbleful of alcohol she’d consumed, and hearing him say he loved her, made her reckless. She still wasn’t sure why he was here. “Did you spank her, too?”
Wide-eyed, he asked, “Who? What the hell are you talking about?”
“The woman you left the stadium with the other night. Did you buy her expensive champagne and spank her?”
He shook his head as if to clear away an invisible fog then he focused his gaze on her. His face was tight, his lips a thin slash. “That’s why you left?”
She nodded, no longer certain she’d done the right thing bringing up his groupie. “There wasn’t any reason for me to stay around. You had your game back. I’m sure you had your pick of partners for the evening.”
Royce picked up his glass and drained it in one gulp. The pricey wine tasted bitter on his tongue. He’d known there had to be another reason Tricia left before he’d met up with her in Seattle—he’d just never dreamed it was because of Hannah. He knew he only had once chance to get this right. He chose his words carefully.
“The only person I wanted to share my success with was you. I rushed through interviews so I could get dressed and find you. Hannah, my ex-wife, was waiting for me in the players’ lounge.”
Tricia stiffened at the mention of his ex.
“I didn’t know she was at the game. Hell, I don’t know if she even was at the game. She might have shown up at the end, for all I know. She never mentioned my pitching, so if I had my guess, I’d say she didn’t see the game.” That would have been just like her, he thought. He couldn’t remember the last time she’d paid any attention to his career.
“Anyway, when I first saw her, I thought she was there to deliver bad news. Maybe something had happened to someone in my family. Any one of them would have called her and sent her to tell me. As it turned out, she was there to try to get me to take her back. I refused. The last time I saw her, she was driving away from the restaurant where we had gone to talk.”
Tricia seemed fixated on the two glasses sitting on the counter between them. He waited for her to say something, ask him anything. When she remained silent, he continued. “Sitting in the car outside the restaurant, I realized something I should have known long ago. I don’t love Hannah. I haven’t in a long time. We were high school sweethearts, Tricia. Sometimes love grows up with you, but for us, it didn’t, though we both pretended it had. On my part, staying with her was comfortable. Having a wife insulated me from the Annies—women who hang out, hoping to lasso a professional ball player. I’ve never been one to hook up with that kind, and I never will be.
“I can only speculate about Hannah’s reasons for staying as long as she did, but if I had to guess, I’d say it was the money. We didn’t have much for a lot of years, but we both knew it was only a matter of time before I made it to the Majors and a big contract. Our marriage really began to crumble then. When she asked for a divorce, I was too busy with my career to look closely at what had gone wrong. I blamed myself for her unhappiness. The other night, I realized she had been happy to take the settlement I’d offered. She didn’t really want me, she just wanted the money. She wanted to get back together with me because she’s spent everything I gave her.”
“You must not have given her very much. You’ve only been divorced, what, a year?”
“I’m going to spank you for that remark.”
She jerked her head up. Heat rose to color her cheeks.
“You know me better than to believe I’d do something so cruel. I was more than fair with her.”
“You don’t play fa
ir, Royce.”
“You know that isn’t true.” It was time to throw his best pitch. She was ready for it, he could see the anticipation, the want and need in her eyes. “Maybe I haven’t always played fair with you, but things are going to change. That’s why I’m going to tell you this now. I want you to understand when I turn you over my knee and spank your impertinent ass, I’m doing it because I love you.”
Fire sparked in her eyes.
“I love you, Tricia. Not because you gave me my game back, but because you are a remarkable woman. You’re brave and fearless. You have a mind like a computer and a heart of gold. I love all of those things, but most of all, I love the way you trust me.” He waited for the impact of his words to sink in before he extended his hand across the bar, palm up, silently asking her to demonstrate her trust.
Emotions bounced around inside her so fast it was nearly impossible to grab hold of any one and make sense of it.
I love you. Oh, how those three little words twisted her world on its axis. In her wildest dreams—and she’d had some pretty wild ones since meeting Royce Stryker—she’d never imagined she’d hear him say those words to her. She hadn’t even allowed herself to hope. Now, she wasn’t sure she could trust her ears. But he was right about one thing, she trusted him with her body. It was her heart she worried about. Could she trust him with that as well?
The same unwavering gaze he employed on the mound held her under his spell. She trembled from head to toe, while his hand remained steady. Solid. Her body knew and craved his touch.
“Come with me. Trust me, Tricia. I’ll never let you down.”
Her body led the way, and her heart followed. She put her hand in his, accepting his reassurance, his promise, his love.
His fingers closed over hers, sealing the bond between them and sending a flood of warmth and certainty through her bloodstream. Her gaze dropped to their clasped hands. His, callused and strong, engulfed hers. A shiver raced down her spine.
“I’ll never do anything to intentionally harm you.”
Realizing he must have felt her body’s reaction and misunderstood, she glanced up at him. “I know. I’m not afraid.”
His expression told her he still didn’t understand. For a man who made his living reading other people, he could be dense as a post. “I was thinking of how wonderful your hand was going to feel on my bottom.”
A smile softened his features. “Were you now?”
“Yes.”
His thumbs swept across her knuckles. “I wouldn’t want to disappoint you.” Without releasing her hand, he came around the bar and pulled her across the room.
As she watched him get comfortable on her sofa, anticipation dampened the folds between her legs. His strength and confidence overwhelmed her senses, yet she knew all the way down to her bones he’d never lift a hand to her in anger.
He pulled her down over his lap, taking every precaution to make sure she was as comfortable as possible. Angled so her torso rested on the cushion beside him, her toes barely made contact with the floor. Fully clothed, she felt exposed, yet safe.
He stroked her bottom with lazy circles, driving her crazy as she anticipated his first loving swat. “Tell me why you’re going to get this spanking.”
“Because I was disrespectful?”
“You questioned my honor, sweetheart. I’ve been less than honest with you these past weeks, but I’ve never given you any reason to believe I would treat Hannah unfairly, have I?”
“No.” He hadn’t. She’d said those things out of anger and frustration.
“No, what?”
“No, sir.”
“For your lack of faith in me, I’m going to spank your bottom. Do you understand why I’m doing this?”
She nodded. Tears spilled from her eyes, creating a dark circle on her upholstery. The way he was gently caressing her backside while they talked only added to her remorse. How could he be so tender when she’d done her best to wound him? She sniffed back a sob. “Yes, sir. I’m sorry, sir. I knew what I said was wrong. I spoke in anger.”
“I don’t want you ever to think you can’t speak your mind, but I won’t have you throwing verbal darts at me for things I haven’t done.”
“I won’t do it again. I promise.”
The first blow landed with a whump, startling a gasp from her lips. Before she recovered from the first hard smack, he spanked her several more times. Her clothing insulated her from the sting, but did nothing to lessen the impact. She grabbed for a throw pillow and dug her fingers into it to keep from reaching back to shield herself from what she knew was to come.
As he massaged and rubbed her through the layers of fabric covering her, she willed her body to relax. This was Royce. Every touch soft or stinging was given because she allowed it—craved it.
“Time to get down to business.” His roughly spoken words were all the warning she received before his fingers slid beneath her waistband, dragging her running shorts and panties over her bottom. He didn’t pull them all the way off, just took them far enough to expose her globes to his gaze.
Anticipation and blinding hot desire stole the breath from her lungs. Was her bottom already red? Imagining his gaze admiring his handiwork had her squirming in his lap, begging for more.
“Be still.” He clamped a hand on her left cheek and squeezed it hard enough to make her yelp. “If it gets too much for you, just say my name. I’ll stop.”
He placed a staying hand between her shoulder blades. Warmth radiated throughout her body, infusing her with a sense of safety. She felt a swoosh of cool air across her buttocks followed by the sharp bite of pain where his hand landed on her right cheek then again on her left. He peppered her backside with stinging slaps. She tried to count them in her head, but her usually agile mind couldn’t keep up. After a while, he stopped and rubbed the sore places he’d created.
“Those were for putting your hands on Tony this morning. I fucking hate seeing you touch another man, even if it is your job.”
His possessive jealousy brought a smile to her lips. She’d felt the same way about him when she saw him with the woman she now knew was his ex-wife. Her feelings at the time had cut deep, thinking if the tables were turned, he wouldn’t experience the same betrayal. Already sliding down the slippery slope of love with the man, she didn’t even try to save herself. She let go of the raveling rope end she’d been clinging to, and faster than a log in a water chute, she plummeted feetfirst into the murky waters of hopelessly in love.
Royce palmed her ass. Her soft skin was hot enough to melt chocolate where he’d spanked her. But he wasn’t through with her yet. She’d cut him to the core earlier with her remark about him not playing fair with his ex. Up until he’d spoken with Hannah the other night, he might have agreed with Tricia, but time, distance, and the woman’s not-so-subtle plea for him to take her back had given him a new perspective. Not only had he been fair, he’d been generous to a fault. He hadn’t told anyone, but part of the reason he hadn’t bought furniture for his house was because he needed to accumulate some expendable cash. The amount he’d settled on Hannah had depleted his savings, leaving him enough to put a down payment on the house, but not enough to furnish it.
His financial situation was much better now. He’d even paid off the mortgage he’d initially taken out to purchase his home, putting off the furniture buying even longer. Maybe not the best move, but one he’d needed to take for himself. His shelf life as a professional athlete was short. Investing in real estate made more sense than investing in chairs and tables. And, he’d had no one to furnish the place for.
He massaged Tricia’s sweet bottom and marveled at the way she’d changed his life. From the first moment he’d laid eyes on her, he’d known deep inside she wasn’t going to be a casual acquaintance. He’d wanted her then, and he wanted her now. He would want her until the day he died, and then some, if the gods were kind to him.
His deep rose and scarlet handprints on her ass screamed, “Mine!” Pos
sessing her had become an ache in his chest, and marking her as his, a need he no longer tried to deny. She was his. Always would be, and he planned on reminding her on a daily basis. But, for now, he needed her to understand how much her words had stung. Without warning, he brought his hand down on the rounded flesh of her right cheek. The slap sounded like the crack of a whip in the quiet room.
Tricia jerked and cried out. He spanked her just as hard on the other side. “This is fair, sweetheart.” He continued to rein terror on her ass while she wiggled, jerked, and cursed him between sobs. He knew how she felt. He’d experienced the same level of pain when she’d made her accusation. The only difference was, she would carry the visible evidence of the pain, at least for a time, while his scars were all on the inside.
He half expected her to scream his name to get him to stop, but when the motion of his hand carried her scent up to his nostrils, he realized she’d gone beyond punishment. She was turned on by his spanking her, just as she had been the first time. And Lord knew he’d been hard for her since she opened the door wearing running shorts and a tank top.
Staying his hand in midair, he inhaled deeply. She’d thrown him a curve ball, making him need her like a crazy drunk needed another drink. He didn’t know if he should swing or let the moment pass. He wanted a relationship with her, but they hadn’t talked about anything more than him taking her over his knee. If he swung, slid her off his lap, and mounted her, would she call him out on a strike? Or would she run the bases with him?
The color on her ass was like a beacon, calling him. He’d punished her for lashing out at him in anger and made his point in regard to whom she belonged. The evidence was there in the shades of red painting her skin. Mine.
Covering her left cheek with his palm, he savored the lush curves on display. His cock ached to slip into her cleft, to stroke and tease the doors of her desire. He took his time, caressing her flesh, growing more desperate with every sigh, every moan, every twitch of her hips as he massaged the hurt away. He was damn lucky she’d let him touch her at all. He wasn’t about to push his luck by taking more than she offered.