Rick was laughing when she returned and this time she did swat his ass, which caused his towel to drop. His cock jutted out, thick and long, a drop of pre-cum glistening on the slit.
A flush of heat spread across her chest.
“Oopsy!” she sang with mock chagrin.
She set the step next to him and climbed on it to wrap his wrists with the TRX ropes. Obviously, it would be easy for him to extricate himself, but that wasn’t the point. This was play.
“How’s that?” She tugged the knots tight.
His gaze glittered and his eyes never moved from her face. “Elevating,” he joked.
She smacked his ass again. It was solid muscle, so it probably hurt her hand more than him.
She trailed a hand over his beautiful torso. It felt so delicious to be in charge. Of course her beautiful lover could overpower her in a flash—he was bigger and stronger than her in every way. But that wasn’t the point. He was willing to let her lead tonight and he looked as excited and thrilled as she was.
With her hands molded to his glorious pecs, she licked a long line up the center of his torso, savoring the taste of his skin.
His breath shortened, gaze grew hungry. She pulled out the tube of Tiger Balm sports rub she had grabbed from her office and unscrewed the cap. Squeezing a bit on her finger, she swirled it over one of his nipples, squeezing as it grew stiff. She gave the same treatment to the other one, then blew lightly on them.
“How’s that?” Her voice sounded husky.
His cock bobbed, beckoning her.
“Tingly.”
She blew on his nipples again, knowing the cool prickling sensations would only increase over the next half hour.
“And for your cock…”
Alarm crossed his face and she laughed. “No, not the Tiger Balm. For your cock, I brought a breath mint.”
She unwrapped it and popped it in her mouth, using her tongue to move it all around. “Ready?”
“God, yes,” he groaned.
* * *
Nothing could be lovelier than the sight of Brandy dropping to her knees and parting those luscious lips of hers to take his cock in her mouth.
“A-a-a-ah,” he exhaled as her hot, wet mouth engulfed his throbbing cock.
She gripped the base of his member and took the rest of him deep into her throat, her tongue swirling around his staff.
He wanted to reach for her head, to pet her, or encourage, but his wrists were tied. Which was the point, he supposed. This was her show. And damn, if she didn’t know how to play it.
She pulled all the way off, letting the coolness of the mint and the air stimulate his moistened cock. The outside of his cock felt frosted with an arctic chill while the inside pulsed with heat.
He groaned.
Her little pink tongue extended and she licked around the head of his cock. Once more she sheathed his entire cock in her mouth, coating it with her minty fresh tongue.
He shuddered with pleasure.
Working both her fist and her mouth, she glided in and out over his manhood. Her fist squeezed tight at the base and pushed and pulled to follow her mouth, making it seem like she had him all the way to the very base of his cock.
She sucked hard, hollowing her cheeks and increasing her pace.
His thighs tensed, balls tightened. Just as he nearly reached nirvana, she pulled off again and blew.
“Ugn.” He thrust his hips in the direction of her mouth like the needy bastard he’d become.
“How’s the mint?”
He shuddered with pleasure just at the mention of it. “Frosty.” His voice sounded gravelly.
She gripped his cock in both hands, interlacing her fingers and squeezing hard.
“Oh God, yes,” he grunted, hips snapping.
Her lips stretched into a wicked smile. “More?”
“Yes, please.”
“Well, since you asked so nicely…” This time she gripped his ass cheeks, letting him feel her nails as she took him deep into her throat.
He tensed, his breath coming in pants, his cock in glorious ecstasy. Each caress of her tongue sent fresh shots of lust kicking through him. Each time she deep-throated, his eyes rolled back in his head and a rumble sounded in his throat.
“Brandy... ” he growled. His balls tightened. “I’m going to come.”
She sucked harder. Apparently Brandy wasn’t afraid to swallow.
His thighs flexed and cum shot down his shaft.
“Oh God…” He shot his load.
Brandy continued sucking, continued gliding over his cock, taking in his seed. She sat back and swallowed, a satisfied smile curving her beautiful lips. “How’d I do, Coach?”
He sagged, letting his body hang from the ropes. “Incredible.”
She stood on the little step stool she’d brought over and untied the ropes.
The moment he was free, he gathered her up into his arms and kissed her. Her mouth was hot and he tasted the salty remnants of his cum on her tongue, along with the spice of the now-dissolved mint. “You are incredible. That was incredible.” His brain couldn’t seem to make his mouth say anything more intelligent.
He kneaded her ass, pulling her hips up against him and wedging a knee between her thighs. Her cheeks fit perfectly in his large palms and he loved the firmness of her muscular buns. “Is it my turn now?”
Her pussy wept through her stretch pants, dampening his thigh as he rubbed her clit against his leg.
She reached up and brushed his shaggy bangs out of his eyes. “What did you have in mind?”
“Come here.” He picked her up so she straddled him and he carried her back into the weight room, where he set her down on the abs bench. “Reach for the handles,” he murmured and pushed her torso until she lay on her back.
She obeyed, and he stripped off her pants in seconds flat. She’d groomed for him. Last week, her pussy had been trimmed to a neat landing strip. This week, she’d shaved it completely bare.
“Oh, that’s hot,” he rumbled, pushing her knees back toward her chest. “Did you groom for me?” He shouldn’t ask a question like that. They weren’t dating and they certainly weren’t exclusive, but he felt extremely possessive of that beautiful little pussy at the moment.
“Yes.” Her perfectly flat belly fluttered.
He straddled the bench below her hips and lowered his head, licking into her dewy folds. “Mmm,” he said when she gasped. “I’ve been imagining this all week long.”
She looked porn-perfect, lying back on the table, her toned body lithe and ultra-feminine. So perfect, in fact, that he just had to get her top off for the full effect.
He tugged it off over her head and then stood back to survey her. “Absolutely beautiful.”
She lifted her hips in a clear invitation.
Damn—even though she’d just sucked him off, his cock wanted to go for full penetration. But he wasn’t sure they were ready for that and he didn’t want to go get a condom out of his bag. Instead, he returned to his position between her legs. Holding her thighs apart, he lowered his head and licked along the seam of her sex. Her clit hardened under the application of his tongue and he sucked it until she cried out, lifting her hips from the table. He pressed them back down and rolled her knees back toward her shoulders.
Good thing she was so flexible.
He licked her from anus to clit and back again, making her moan and squeal.
“Rick... Rick... oh God, don’t stop,” she wailed.
He slid two fingers into her and curled them, caressing her inner wall, seeking her g-spot. He found it. A button of tissue tightened and firmed under his touch and Brandy let out a plaintive wail.
He pumped his fingers in and out of her as he sucked her clit.
Her strong thighs clamped around his ears, pressing in.
He added a third finger and shoved deeper, harder, faster.
“Oh pleeeease, oh please, oh... oh!”
She squirted as she came. He’d never made a woman
squirt before and somehow it seemed perfect that it had been with Brandy, the woman who had blown his already decent sex life out of the water. Talk about porn perfect.
Her internal muscles squeezed his fingers, making him wish, once more, it had been his cock inside her.
Next time.
If there was a next time. Yes, there would be a next time if he had anything to do with it.
He waited until all the ripples of orgasm had quieted and she went limp, then eased his fingers out and used his towel to help her clean up.
Because she looked too dazed to move, he slid an arm under her shoulders and lifted her up, first to sit, then slowly to stand.
She leaned against him, her knees wobbly.
He loved the feel of her, loved taking her weight. He wished she’d lean on him more. He gripped her nape and moved her long, straight blond off her shoulder to kiss there.
“I’m going to shower,” she murmured.
“I’ll wipe down the equipment,” he offered. He gave her ass a slap as she teetered away, loving the sound of flesh smacking flesh.
She looked over her shoulder with a seductive smile and his pulse quickened.
She had enjoyed it as much as he had. God, he really hoped this wasn’t their last time. Even though it couldn’t go anywhere. He had to tell himself that last part firmly, because some part of him already wanted to pick out wallpaper with her.
But no. No go. Brandy Love wasn’t “the one.”
Too bad.
Chapter Eight
Brandy and her 11-year-old Claire were out shopping. It was one of the greatest pleasures of having a daughter, in her opinion. Lots of women shuddered at the idea of encouraging their daughters’ inner shopper for fear they’d be set up for years of heavy expenditures, but not her.
Claire was the perfect companion. She helped Brandy hunt down the right sizes—which was hard for a slender, 5’9” woman—and came into the dressing room to give her opinion. Claire, herself, wasn’t overly fussy with clothes, which meant Brandy still got to pick them for her. Yes, she’d been blessed with 11 years of dressing up her own beautiful baby doll.
Going clothes shopping three weeks before Christmas probably wasn’t her best move, but she wanted a new outfit for the Fostering Christmas event. The mall was packed with wild-eyed shoppers who must be either panicked to find the right gift, or freaking out about how much they’d spent. And yeah, if the relentless Christmas songs hadn’t been enough at the gym, they were driving her nuts now.
Her cell phone rang while she was in the middle of changing into a pair of slacks. “Will you grab that for me?” she asked Claire.
Her daughter dug in her purse and pulled it out. “It says Coach Morehouse.”
She frowned. Rick was calling? In the middle of the football clinic? Cold tendrils of fear snaked around her heart and she snatched the phone out of her daughter’s grasp. “Hello? Rick? What’s up?”
“I’m sorry, Brandy, but there’s been an accident.”
Her heart shot up to her throat, choking her breath.
The words no mother ever wants to hear.
She forced an exhale and sank to the bench in the dressing room. “Tell me.”
“Sam’s okay, but it looks like he may have fractured his arm. I’m going to take him to the hospital myself, unless you prefer I call an ambulance.”
“No, I want you to take him. Which one?”
“Houston Memorial.”
She closed her eyes and drew a breath to the count of four, forcing oxygen in. “We’ll meet you there. Have you called his father?”
“No, do you want to?”
Not really, but someone had to. “Yes, I’ll call him. See you there.”
She hit end, her heart pattering against her ribs with an unnatural beat.
“Come on, we have to go. Your brother broke his arm.”
“Oh no,” Claire exclaimed, digging through the castoff clothes for Brandy’s pants. “Here mom.”
She shucked the try-on clothes and pulled on her pants. Claire held her purse out for her and she caught it on her arm as they swooped out of the dressing room. Cold chills continued to pour through her body, even as she counseled herself, Just a broken arm. Not life threatening.
After fumbling for her phone, she dialed Justin.
“What’s up,” he answered curtly.
“Sam may have broken his arm. They’re taking him to Houston Memorial now.”
“What? Jesus! Who’s they?”
“Coach Morehouse.”
“Are you kidding me? They should have called an ambulance. He will totally be liable if anything happens to Sam during transport.”
“Shut up, Justin.” Always the lawyer—he drove her freaking nuts. Everything was about a lawsuit. “I authorized him to take Sam.” Seriously, if it had been in an ambulance, then Justin would’ve complained about the expense. He just liked to poke holes in any decision she ever made.
She ended the call before she said something she’d regret and focused on finding the fastest route to the hospital. Once there, she rushed into the waiting room, to find Sam and Rick sitting in the chairs. Rick’s hand rested on Sam’s shoulder and Sam’s face was pinched up tight.
“Sam, baby.” She rushed over, her stomach clenching at the ghostly pallor of his face. “Did they give him anything for the pain?” she asked Rick.
Rick shook his head. His jaw was tight as if he, too, suffered right along with Sam. “I should have demanded some. I’m sorry.”
She dug in her purse for some ibuprofen. It would be better if Sam took something before they did the X-rays. She remembered when Claire had broken her tibia as a kindergartener, they didn’t give her anything until after and she’d screamed bloody murder every time they moved her during the X-rays. She handed him three ibuprofen. “Here, take these.”
Sam grimaced, because swallowing pills wasn’t his forte yet, but he took a big swig from his water bottle and got them down.
“Samuel Anderson?” A nurse called from the door to the E.R. “Come on back, and we’ll get you X-rayed now.”
All four of them stood and came forward, Sam wincing with each step he took, the jostling obviously paining him. When they reached the door, the nurse shook her head and pointed at Claire. “She can’t come back.”
Brandy heaved a bitter sigh. Really? What in the hell did they expect a mother of more than one child to do?
“I’ll stay with her,” Rick offered.
Claire’s eyes were large and round.
“Claire, this is Rick, Sam’s coach. He’s super nice. Are you okay staying with him in the waiting room? You can just watch TV or something?”
Claire nodded, although she saw the doubt scrawled across her face. But of course, she couldn’t protest. Obviously Brandy needed to be with Sam.
“When Daddy gets here, I’ll bet he’ll stay with you, okay, hon?” Even as she said the words, she doubted they were true. Justin wouldn’t be selfless enough to sit with Claire, he’d have to be back there with Sam making sure everything was going just the way he thought it should go.
She went back with Sam, trying to distract him from the pain of having the bones moved and arranged for the X-rays. “When your sister broke her leg, she screamed bloody murder back here.”
Sam forced a smile, but his teeth were still gritted. “Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. She was in her tights and leotard, so everyone kept stopping and saying “Ohhhh, what happened to the little ballerina?”
Sam smiled again. “Where was I?”
“You were still at soccer practice. Meg took you home and kept you there until we were out.”
“Where was Dad?”
Where indeed? He’d stayed at work and left her to handle it. He trusted her decisions then. When they were married. It was only now that he had to show up and demand his vote in every decision. ‘I don’t remember,” she murmured.
They took the last X-ray and put him in a wheelchair to take into an exam room. Ju
stin showed up as they headed in.
“How was Claire doing out there?”
Justin gave a surly shrugged. “Why is that coach still here?”
“He offered to stay with Claire, since she’s not allowed in here.” Something you should be doing.
Justin paced the small room. Sam picked up the remote and flipped through the channels on the television.
“Has the doctor been in?” Justin asked.
“No, not yet.”
“Do they think he’ll need surgery?”
“I’m not sure,” she said with exaggerated calm. “Like I said, the doctor hasn’t been in yet. I’m going to go check on Claire if you’re going to stay here.” Really, she needed some breathing space.
She walked out to the waiting room and found Claire and Rick both huddled over Rick’s phone, which was in Claire’s hands. She was playing some sort of game while he coached over her shoulder.
“Get that one, over there, over there, over there,” he whispered urgently, pointing at the screen.
Her body leaned to the right and she stamped her feet, then sagged. “Ugh. I died.”
“Hey guys.” Despite the stress of the situation, a smile crept to her lips. “I see you’re staying entertained.”
“Yeah, mom. Rick has this great game. Can we download it on your phone?”
“Sure.” She sank into the chair next to Rick. She should’ve sat beside Claire, but she needed Rick’s strength, needed someone to be strong for her for once.
He put his arm on the back of her chair, barely touching her shoulder, but she sensed he support nonetheless. “How’s he doing?”
She sighed. “It’s hurting him a lot. We’re hoping he won’t need surgery. So what happened? Did he get tackled?”
Rick nodded. “Yes. He got thrown into the air and landed on it. He’s a tough kid, though, not that I would’ve blamed him for blubbering his eyes out.”
Some buzzing, anxious tension in her solar plexus settled down. Rick did that to her. She could relax with him.
“Thanks for staying with Claire,” she said softly.
Claire had already started up a new game and didn’t appear to be listening, anyway.
Scoring With Santa: Book One in the Second Chance Series Page 8