Spring Training

by KB Winters

  Once my body stopped shuddering, he finally slid his thick cock inside me and I sucked in a sharp breath, having forgotten how full he made me feel. Once he was all the way inside me, I relaxed, and let myself enjoy the fullness. He fit me so perfectly, like our bodies had been constructed to be a perfect lock and key. My walls gripped tight as he began to thrust in and out of me, gaining speed and power with each one. I moaned and gripped the bed so tight that my knuckles whitened.

  On the third stroke, he thrust into me so hard I was forced to brace my body weight against my wrists and hands that were tied to the solid frame. I cried out with each stroke after that, panting Grant’s name and begging him to keep fucking me. He groaned and continued pounding into me until I saw stars. He thickened inside me and I could tell he was close. My own pleasure reached dizzying heights and moments later I came, so hard that it shook my entire body. I fell against the bed and Grant gave one final pulse before he released inside me with a final jerk.

  Grant went still after the pulsing ebbed away, leaving us connected but motionless, as we both recovered, our breaths and heartbeats came down from the heights of ecstasy. He slid from me and without a word, set about untying the maroon scarves that had bound my hands to the frame of the bed. My wrists were ringed with red, but it faded quickly and I didn’t expect it to bruise. Grant inspected the marks and planted a soft kiss on the inside of each wrist before laying me down in the bed. He disappeared for a few minutes, and when he returned, he got into the bed next to me.

  “Stay. Megan, I need you to stay.”

  I nodded, suddenly feeling the exhaustion take over, and let myself slip into a dreamless sleep in Grant’s arms.

  * * * *

  Hours later, I woke up, my heart racing inside my chest and my body coated in sweat. The room was dark but the shades were left open and a faint glisten of moonlight streamed in, surrounding the bed with a faint glow. I peeked over and in the soft light, could see the shadows and shapes of his features. He was breathing softly, and in rhythm that let me know he was fast asleep. I slid from the bed and gathered the skirt and jacket I’d been wearing the day before. I patted around the ground, looking for my panties, but gave up when I heard Grant stirring. I dressed quickly and tiptoed out of the room and fled the condo as quickly and quietly as I could. I knew I’d have to see him again—it wasn’t like he was some one-night stand that I’d hoped to avoid in clubs going forward.

  What the hell is wrong with me? I asked myself the question over and over again, filling the silence as I rode the elevator to the lobby of Grant’s building. I scurried past the front desk, not daring to meet the eyes of anyone, not even the doorman, as I burst out onto the street. My car was still at the office so I hailed a cab and had them take me there first. Once I had my car, I retraced my path across town to the hotel I’d stayed at the week before. As far as my family knew, I was still staying with a friend, and I didn’t want to go home in the middle of the night and explain anything. It would be easier to take a few days to myself.

  I checked into my room and collapsed onto the bed, falling asleep within minutes, still in my clothes.

  * * * *

  I knew I had to go, but I really, really didn’t want to. I’d spent two days alone inside my hotel room, knowing that Grant had no way of tracking me down. I’d gotten through most of my overdue homework assignments, but most of the time had been spent binge watching hours of TV. The hotel came with more channels than I’d ever dreamed of, and it had provided the perfect escape from reality of worrying what would happen with Grant, what would happen if Logan found out about my affair with Grant, the drama with my family, the encounter with Max. I let it all simmer in the background as I did my best to lose myself in mindless entertainment. But as always—reality eventually caught up to me and it was time to report back to Timeless Timepieces.

  Luckily, when I arrived at the office, I found it easy to fly under the radar. Grant had set up an open interview for students and other entry level marketers that he could hire quickly and bolster the ranks before the next big launch was scheduled to begin. Luckily for me, that would be long after my internship requirements had been satisfied, and I would be far away from the chaos. I hid away in my cubicle, catching up on customer emails and finessing the sketches that Grant and I had completed the last time we’d been at the office.

  Right before…I pressed my eyes closed against the flood of memories from the night with Grant. They threatened to overwhelm every other beat of my heart, and no matter how much trash TV and textbook babble I’d managed to cram into my brain, the thought of being with Grant…being owned by Grant…managed to filter in and steal my concentration. I did my best to shake it off and keep working, counting down the hours until I could run out again. I knew I wouldn’t be able to avoid Grant forever—but I needed more time.

  The only thing that could drag me out of my cubicle was when my travel coffee mug from the hotel was finally empty. I scurried down the hall towards the central employee break room, doing my best to move quietly and quickly. I figured Grant was tied up with interviews, but it would be just my luck to run into him head on in the hallway. A flash of movement caught my eye and I looked to the left to see a large cluster of people waiting around. They all looked like students and although some of them looked vaguely familiar, no one stood out, until…

  “Jeanine?” I stopped in my tracks, as though I’d accidentally stepped into industrial glue, freezing me in place.

  The brunette in the center of the group turned, and sure enough, it was her. Her face lit up with a false smile and she waved. “Megan, I forgot you worked here,” she said, her voice a little too sharp. “Hey, do you think you could put in a good word for me?”

  The eyes of her companions landed on me expectantly and I let out a surprised burst of laughter. “Are you serious?”

  Two of the people in the group took awkward sidesteps to leave the conversation and Jeanine’s eyes shifted to the stunning blonde that remained on her right, as though signaling me to keep it cool. “Angela and I are here for the open interview.”

  I smiled—baring my teeth in such a way that from a distance probably looked normal, but up close would reveal my true feelings about the situation. “I realize that. I meant, you seriously think I’d give you a recommendation after the shit you’ve pulled?”

  Jeanine rolled her eyes. “You’re still hung up on that? Come on, Megan. We’re friends. Can’t you let it go?”

  “Correction, Jeanine. We were friends. We aren’t anymore. Friends support each other, not give into petty, jealous tantrums.” I spun on the stacked heel of my shoes and stalked back down the hall, all thoughts of coffee and my original mission evaporated as rage simmered in my stomach.

  “Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that,” the blonde said, obviously to Jeanine, but loud enough that I could hear her. “Grant—I mean, Mr. Christiansen, is a very independent man. He knows exactly what he wants, and he takes it.” Her voice dripped with innuendo and I turned back to see the way she smiled conspiratorially at Jeanine and then at me, once she realized I was watching.

  “Would you agree, Megan?” Jeanine giggled—she was clearly in on the joke.

  “Do you work with him closely?” The blonde asked before I could answer Jeanine’s question.

  “Yes, actually. I do,” I answered, probably a little too quickly. I left out what it was that Grant and I did together, wanting to leave a little mystery of my own.

  The blonde’s eyes went wide. “Oh, so you probably know all about him then.”

  I nodded, hoping I looked more confident than I was beginning to feel. I had the distinct impression that there was something the blonde was holding back. “I’m sorry, who are you again?” I asked, stepping closer. It wasn’t a conversation I wanted broadcast around the entire office, especially since Grant could appear at any minute.

  The blonde stuck out a hand. “I’m Angela Wills. I’m in the marketing program. But, that’s not really why I’m here.
I know Grant won’t hire me.”

  I raised an eyebrow at her odd statement. “Why not?”

  Angela gave Jeanine another sideways glance. “Well, let’s just say, I know a little more about Grant than most people, and he goes out of his way to keep his private life and his business life separated.”

  I didn’t like the way she spoke about Grant, like they were old friends or something. Besides that, obviously Grant wasn’t that meticulous about keeping the two separated, since he insisted on me working for him, and had clearly had no problems taking our relationship—whatever it was—outside of the office doors. The whole thing wasn’t making any sense, all I knew was that I desperately wanted to know what the blonde was referring to.

  “Have you heard of the club, Fuego?” Jeanine asked, leaning in closer to me.

  I shook my head.

  Jeanine and Angela exchanged another shit eating grin before Angela explained, “It’s an underground club, very exclusive.”

  “It’s a sex club!” Jeanine giggled and Angela shot her a disapproving glance.

  “A sex club?” I fought the urge to look around and check for hidden cameras. The entire conversation was so odd, it couldn’t be real.

  “Fuego is a BDSM club,” Angela corrected. “And Grant is one of the top doms at Fuego. I haven’t had the pleasure, but I hope to change that soon.”

  The room behind them was starting to spin, slowly at first, but then more rapidly as Angela’s words sank in and came to life in my mind. “Are you serious?” I asked, praying it didn’t sound as breathless as it felt.

  Angela nodded slowly. She made a show of looking both ways, as though expecting someone to jump out from behind the water cooler, before continuing in a hushed tone, “Like I said, I’ve never been with him, but I’ve talked to subs that have and they swear he’s the best one there.”

  Doms? Subs? Fuego? BDSM? It was like a new language that I couldn’t quite grasp. Obviously, I wasn’t raised under a rock, the concept of BDSM wasn’t new, but the idea of Grant going to some kind of underground club for such activities…it rocked me to the core—especially since he’d never said a word about it to me.

  Before I could even funnel my racing thoughts into another question, there was a flurry of activity as one group of interviewees was escorted out, and Cara was looking around rattling off a new list of names to go and see Grant. Angela and Jeanine were both called. They said their goodbyes and left me, laughing and giggling together as they followed Cara around the corner, leaving me alone with a familiar question on my tongue.

  “What the fuck is going on here?”

  Chapter Thirteen — Grant

  I was a little over halfway through the mass interview process and had already decided that it had been one of my worst ideas. Everyone I saw was too eager, too PC, too inexperienced, too frantic, on and on.

  “This is a disaster,” I hissed to Cara in between batches.

  She gave me a sympathetic glance. “What do you want me to do? Send the rest home?”

  I leaned my chair back and stared up at the ceiling. I was willing to admit that my crankiness had less to do with the potential employees and more to do with Megan. She’d ducked my calls since the last time I’d seen her, and although in theory she was somewhere in the office, I hadn’t seen her and she hadn’t made a point to seek me out.

  Normally, waking up to an empty bed was a good thing. On the rare occasion that I took a woman back to my condo, it was always best to get her out the door before sleeping, but occasionally, after a particularly exhausting night, it was inevitable that I would occasionally wake up to company which then led to a series of awkward hints and insinuations to get them to clear out as soon as humanly possible. However, lately, the only woman in my bed had been Megan, and waking up with her had erased all those feelings of annoyance and inconvenience. However, going to sleep with her by my side, and waking up to an empty and cold pillow, had brought a whole new set of emotions, confusion led to frustration and I eventually settled on sadness.

  “Sir?” Cara said, still waiting on her marching orders.

  “Send in the next one,” I told Cara, not bothering to hide the fatigue in my voice or on my face as I rubbed my eyes.

  “The caterers are here. They’re still setting up, but I could send them all down to lunch,” she suggested.

  “Yes! Please, do that.”

  Cara smiled. “Do you want me to go get you a plate?”

  “You’re a saint, Cara.”

  “I’ll be right back, sir.” She ducked out, closing the door behind her.

  I raked my hands through my hair and leaned back in my chair. I closed my eyes and let my mind free, ping ponging through a list of vacations I needed to take. All of them started out fine, but quickly morphed to include Megan. Suddenly a slide played in my mind—Megan standing at the foot of the Eiffel Tower, wearing a smoking hot bikini, lying in a hammock on a Caribbean beach, drinking wine, naked, in a hot tub in the middle of a field of snow on some remote mountainside.

  For fuck’s sake, Grant. You might not have a marketing department, but you got yourself the beginnings of a really solid romantic comedy.

  “Mr. Christiansen?”

  “Shit!” I jolted upright in my chair—my eyes wide open as the blonde from Fuego—and the marketing symposium—sashayed into the room. “I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you come in.”

  “I’m sorry to have startled you,” she purred, her voice low and husky.

  “The group is going to lunch, I’d suggest that you join them,” I said, my voice steely and commanding.

  She continued towards the desk. When she leaned over it, her breasts were plainly visible, and I knew she’d recently taken down the top buttons just for my sake. Normally, the thought would have turned me on, but instead, it was another annoyance. “Are you sure about that? Who’s taking care of you?” She slid onto the edge of my desk, swinging around to show off the tanned, toned legs from underneath her short black skirt.

  “Listen, I don’t remember your name, and I really don’t care for you to tell me again. I’m afraid you’re not the kind of fit I’m looking for,” I said, pausing before adding, “Thank you, but it would be best if you left. If you need assistance, I can have a member of our security help you find your way out.”

  Past her shoulder, the door opened and Megan stepped inside, her eyes flying to the backside of the blonde as she perched on the edge of my desk. Her mouth dropped open and I could only imagine how it must look to her. “Wow.”

  The blonde whipped around and a smile spread across her ruby red lips. “Mmmm. Now this looks like a party.”

  “Get out,” I demanded, my voice a low growl. The blonde stood up from the desk and gave me one last lingering look, before slithering from the room.

  Megan ignored her as she passed by, her eyes still locked on me, wide with disbelief. “You really know her? I thought it was a joke or something.”

  “No, I don’t know her.”

  “Right. Okay, Grant. Whatever.” She tossed her hands into the air and pivoted on her heel.

  “Megan, wait!” I rounded the desk and reached her just as she was slipping through the door. I pulled her back in and shut the door firmly.

  “So you don’t go to this place, this club?” Megan demanded, her arms folded in front of her.

  “Club?”

  Megan jerked her arm from my grasp. “Fuego? Some sex club? That girl, she told me all about it, that you’re some kind of exclusive member or something. Is that true?”

  My heart raced inside my chest. I didn’t know what the right answer was. I didn’t want to lie to her, but I also knew she wouldn’t accept the truth. Why should she?

  Megan barreled on before I had a chance to answer, “Your silence pretty much answers the question. God, Grant! Everything I know about you feels like a lie! No wonder I could never figure you out, you’re too busy hiding the truth. I don’t know what I was thinking letting myself get tangled up with you and feeli
ng so guilty over betraying Logan.”

  At the sound of his name my entire body clenched, every muscle prepared for a fight. I snarled, if only she knew the truth about him. I’d done a little research and in the process had found out that Logan had his own little nest of dirty secrets.

  “God, Megan.” I raked my hands through my thick hair while she stared at me, her mouth open like she was observing some kind of wild animal on some kind of rampage. “I can’t believe you’re letting that guy snow you!”

  “Snow me? Grant, the only one around here trying to cover his tracks is you!”

  I braced my hands on the firm oak desk and leaned over, staring her down. “Fine! Yes, you caught me. I used to go to Fuego. I like fucking beautiful women! So, sue me. I haven’t gone once since the day I met you. I haven’t touched another woman, looked at another woman, or been able to even think about another woman. Damn it! Megan, you’re in my head, in my thoughts, under my skin, everywhere.”

  She stopped and took a step back as though my words had physically impacted her. She shook her head and her mouth dropped open. “No, Grant, no. I didn’t ask for this life, none of this.

  I scoffed, but inside my chest, my heart rate jumped twenty beats per minute, hammering away like a hummingbird.

  “I don’t want secrets and dirty clubs and all these woman chasing you. I’m sorry, Grant. This is more than I can handle. I don’t have everything figured out—but I know what I need. I need a good, honest guy who just wants to find the right person and settle down. And that’s who Logan is. He’s not some player looking to get a new girl every night, and he definitely isn’t the kind of guy to go to someplace like Fuego, or whatever the fuck it’s called!”

  She thought she had me—her eyes sparked with fire. She’d thought she’d won this round.

  Little did she know…?

  “You think you know me so well, Grant, but you have no idea who I am, or what I want. Logan is actually interested in me and making an effort to get to know me, the real me—rather than—just—just jumping to conclusions and acting like some prince-fucking-charming who has the answer to everything!”