Player's Ultimatum

by Koko Brown

  “Umm, Robbie, aren’t bath houses for gay men?”

  Robbie chuckled. “It’s not that kind of bath house. This one’s actually legit, sort of.”

  Yvonne’s eyes widened.

  “You didn’t get busy in the bath did you?”

  Robbie released her to take the stairs. “Chris and I didn’t get busy in the bath. Now the sauna…that’s a different story altogether.”

  * * * * *

  Yvonne waited until Robbie left before she called his agent. She couldn’t resist the adrenaline rush of a heated negotiation. And she would never give up until she got what she wanted. Business was in her DNA and closing a deal under her terms made it even sweeter. So it wasn’t until late afternoon when she finally left the house for the Roman Bathhouse.

  Housed in a former government building, the Roman Bathhouse’s entrance was located below street level. Heavy on privacy, one entered through the building’s secured basement parking garage.

  Unlike the concrete exterior, the lobby was a luxurious oasis consisting of Italian marble, piped-in classical music and soft lighting. Several club chairs were scattered about for client seating, while the walls had built in shelves lined with an array of beauty products. A receptionist desk guarded by a paper thin brunette dressed all in black dominated the center of the room.

  Sighing dramatically, the receptionist slid the tabloid magazine she was reading aside as she approached. “Posso auitarla?” She asked.

  Yvonne held out Robbie’s membership card. “My fiancé told me I could use this to gain access to the spa.”

  The brunette eyed the black card with little or no interest, but then her green eyes widened. “You are…you are Gutierrez’s fiancée, Yvonne Floyd?”

  Yvonne frowned. Had Robbie called before hand to give them a heads up about her arrival? Sensing her confusion, the receptionist snatched up her magazine.

  “Is this you?” she asked, pointing at a picture of Yvonne in the stadium’s tunnel. Yep it was her captured with a doe-in-head lights expression on her face.

  “In the flesh,” she muttered.

  The receptionist dropped the magazine and clapped her hands together. “We are so pleased to have you. Permit me to call Salvatore, the general manager. He’ll want to give you a tour of the spa himself.”

  The brunette snatched up the phone and punched a button on the console. In rapid Italian, she spoke for several moments before replacing the receiver.

  “He will be right. If you like, you can have a seat.”

  Before Yvonne could say, ‘hells bells, thanks for the hospitality’, the general manager burst into the lobby. Wide bodied and squat, he appeared to be out of breath as if he’d just ran a 5K.

  “Signorina Floyd,” he breathed. Clasping her hands in his, he squeezed them gently. “We are so honored you have chosen to pay us a visit. Is Signor Gutierrez coming as well?

  “No, Robbie should just be finishing up at practice.” Yvonne struggled to hold back a laugh as Salvatore practically deflated before her eyes.

  “Si...si...I guess he’s getting ready for the match against Calabria on tomorrow. Can’t wait to see that one myself. Well, enough about football,” he said, obviously catching the glaze entering Yvonne’s eyes.

  “You didn’t come to our spa to chat about sports, but to get away from it. So which of our services would you like to indulge in today?”

  “Robbie recommended the springs.”

  “Bene! Good choice. Our baths are sinfully delicious. You will want to indulge more than once.”

  Insisting on giving her a tour, Salvatore led Yvonne down a flight of stairs to the women’s locker room. Pausing at the entrance, he handed her a key on a plastic accordion-style wrist band.

  “This is the key to your locker,” he said. “You’re 15A. Put all of your valuables in there. You’ll also find a robe in the locker to change into after you hang up your clothes. Did you bring a bathing suit?”

  Yvonne nodded.

  “Bathing suits are required to enter the springs. However, women are allowed to go topless. After you change, meet me here and I’ll escort you to the baths.”

  Yvonne didn’t waste any time changing into the yellow bikini Robbie picked up just in case they were invited by some rich millionaire to cruise the Italian Riviera on his private yacht. The bandeau top and bottom were held together by a multitude of string on the back and sides.

  For modesty’s sake and being somewhat self-conscious, Yvonne slipped into the spa’s courtesy robe. Good thing she had because the main bathing area was probably ten degrees cooler than the locker room and occupied with other bathers.

  “You did not take an hour to change?” Eyes wide in surprise, Salvatore stepped closer. “And no makeup?”

  “Didn’t make any sense to wear makeup to take a bath,” Yvonne murmured.

  “A beautiful woman after my own heart.” Salvatore smiled, tucking her arm in his.

  The first part of their tour began in the main bathing area. Housed in a room the size of a high school gymnasium, the one hundred-year old pool was bordered by Roman columns and mosaic tile. About a half dozen people were either floating or sitting in the chest deep water while piped in music filtered through the ceiling.

  Salvatore skirted the pool via a columned pathway and guided her through an archway into a wide hallway with stone walls. Every eight or ten feet, they walked past individual alcoves with small pools fronted by etched glass panels providing a modicum of privacy.

  “To truly reap the benefits of our pools, there is a three-step process you must follow. For the first twenty minutes, you will sit in the sauna.” He paused to point to a door on the other side of the glass.

  “After the sauna, step into the caldarium or hot bath followed by a salt rub applied by Minerva, one of our message therapists. Once you’re done with your body treatment, you will get into the tepidarium or warm water pool followed by a plunge in the frigidarium or cold bath.”

  Salvatore must have sensed her trepidation because he smiled. “Don’t worry, it’s very easy and there are instructions on the wall. Take your time and enjoy yourself. You are not taking a bath you are awakening the senses. If you need any assistance, press the intercom button on the wall. One of the attendants will answer your call.”

  Left on her own, Yvonne removed her robe and stepped into the sauna. She gasped at the heat. It had to be a hundred degrees in here! “Take your time and enjoy yourself. You are not taking a bath you are awakening the senses,” she repeated, but barely able to breathe.

  Taking in deep calming breaths, she laid down on one of the wooden benches and allowed the heat to envelope her like a blanket. She tried to empty her mind and just relax, but her thoughts kept drifting to Paolo Saito and what it would be like to share this experience with him.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “Why haven’t I heard from you Paulo? You promised me you’d call.”

  Paulo sighed. He’d tried to avoid the brunette’s attentions, but she’d cornered him at the entrance of the men’s locker room.

  Why do women make such fools of themselves? He didn’t even sleep with this one and she still hounded him like a lost puppy. He hadn’t taken her out because she always shot him cow eyes whenever he came to the Roman Baths. He’d done it out of boredom and thought she might be cool to hang out with for an evening.

  Big Mistake. After their one date, she’d run to the media and practically had them married. If she hadn’t been a single mother of two, he wouldn’t have insisted to Salvatore that she keep her job at the spa when the manager threatened to let her go.

  “I apologize, Lucia. All of my focus has been on the upcoming playoff season.”

  Not fully buying it, she crossed her arms and thrust out her chin stubbornly. “Have you been out with anyone else?”

  Paolo tamped down his rising anger. For some reason, one’s celebrity equaled a disturbing familiarity on other people’s part. “Even though it’s none of your business, I haven’t
been out with anyone since you.”

  Placated, Lucia stepped closer and smiled, running a manicured nail over his chest. “Maybe we could spend a quiet night at your place? I can get my mother to watch the girls.”

  Alarm bells dinged in Paulo’s head. He never took a woman home, no matter how much he wanted to shag them. Once a woman came over, she started acting like she owned the place, making it even harder to get rid of her. As a rule, all of his affairs were carried out elsewhere either in hotels or the homes of the women he dealt with.

  “I’ll think about it. The team’s twice a day practices don’t make me good company of late.” Paulo chucked her under the chin. “But when things slow down, you will be the first person I’ll call.”

  “Promise?”

  Paolo almost rolled his eyes. “You’re at the top of my list,” he reassured without locking himself into a promise he knew he wouldn’t keep.

  To Paolo’s relief his assurance was enough because she turned around and headed back to the spa’s lobby. Having successfully charmed her, Paulo slipped inside the locker room, the one place she wouldn’t follow. Still, he waited ten minutes before he changed into a pair of black swim trunks.

  Opening the door to the main bath, Paolo prayed Lucia wasn’t lurking about ready to pounce. Greeted by an empty hallway, he breathed a sigh of relief. He hated scenes especially with women. Paolo might be selfish, but he wasn’t an asshole.

  As expected the main pool wasn’t heavily populated. Most Romans didn’t come to soak in the bathhouse’s therapeutic waters until the end of the workday. Still, Paolo avoided it. He wouldn’t be able to relax in the main pool. Instead of soothing his sore muscles, he’d be bombarded with questions, unsolicited strategy for the next game and even criticism on how he captained the team.

  A creature of habit, Paolo headed for his favorite alcove. At the end of the hall, the room’s peace and tranquility couldn’t be interrupted by foot traffic or curiosity hounds. After checking the room’s occupancy, he stepped inside and kicked off his flip-flops. He walked over to the room’s private sauna, but paused midway. The room wasn’t vacant as he’d first thought, a woman floated in the middle of the tepidarium.

  Curious, Paulo edged closer. Stretched out like a sacrifice to the gods, and unashamedly topless, she barely breached the water’s surface. Gently rounded in all the right places, her brown skin glowed amidst an outline of pale green water. Her feet were tiny and topped off with pale nail polish. Not seeing any visible corns or bunions, Paulo mentally checked that off his list. An admitted foot man, her feet were definitely lickable.

  Moving up her body, his eyes caressed the outline of her toned thighs and rounded hips. The V between her legs and her lower belly would be a perfect pillow for his head.

  Her breast with their chocolate-tipped nipples weren’t any less perfect. They could fill a man’s hands and then some. Paulo’s balls tightened and his cock hardened.

  Nothing new. A beautiful woman always flipped his cock’s power switch.

  Seeking safer ground, his gaze rose to the woman’s face. Like a kick to the gut, he almost doubled over. His brown goddess was none other than Robbie Gutierrez’s fiancé.

  Was she alone? She better be!

  Hackles rising from jealousy, his gaze ransacked the room. Noting only one robe hung next to the sauna door, Paolo coaxed the beast in him to come to heel. His cock remained ramrod stiff, but at least he didn’t want to rip someone’s head off!

  Embarrassed, Paolo adjusted his dick, only making his arousal jut up and out like Rio’s Sugar Loaf Mountain. If he couldn’t stem this hard on what would? There was no way he was leaving, but he couldn’t come off like a rutting animal. Not yet anyway.

  Grinning wickedly, Paolo slipped into the pool, his careless entry sloshing waves over his brown goddesses’ sleek form. As he leaned back against the pool’s edge, he eyes shot open and she struggled to come to her feet, her arms flailing wildly.

  To Paolo’s horror, she sunk to the bottom of the pool.

  *****

  One moment she was floating on the pool’s surface, the next fighting for her life and all because her solitude had been broken by someone else entering the pool.

  Shocked by the intrusion, while topless no less, she’d lost her equilibrium and sank to the bottom of the pool.

  Head and chest burning, Yvonne sought purchase on the pool’s bottom then pushed up. Clearing the surface, she gasped for air, but ended up sputtering and coughing on the warm salt water in her lungs.

  Disoriented, her instinctual need to survive kicked in and she grabbed for something solid to keep her afloat. Instead of the side of the pool, she clung to the arms suddenly wrapping around her.

  She was safe! Yvonne laid her head against her savior’s shoulder. She was so relieved she almost giggled at the fact she almost drowned in a very large bathtub.

  Her good humor was short lived.

  To Yvonne’s horror, the arms wrapped around her belonged to a man, a very tall man considering her feet barely skimmed his knees. Suddenly remembering her nakedness, she pushed away from the arms holding her up. And in her panic, she plummeted to the bottom of the pool again.

  Thankfully, the very same person came to her rescue. Yvonne tried to disentangle herself from the man’s embrace, but he held her firmly against him, crushing her breasts against his forearm.

  “Be still, I’m not going to hurt you.”

  Yvonne went as limp as a rag doll, barely moving a muscle. Not out of obedience, but due to a strange sense of déjà vu creeping over her, affecting her precarious equilibrium.

  It couldn’t be him!

  Yet deep down, she knew only one sultry, accented voice that had the ability to make her melt and lose all of her common sense. Stealing herself, she glanced over her shoulder and found herself face-to-face with Paolo Saito.

  Drops of water ran down his neck and onto his chest. Despite her better judgment, Yvonne followed one of the droplets as it slowly slipped down his throat, the valley of his breast bone, to the ridges of his six pack abs. She looked away before she decided to go in after it.

  “Be careful, Yvonne. If you’re going to check me out, I expect the same courtesy.”

  A mixture of embarrassment and self-directed anger ripped through Yvonne’s body, stealing her ability to speak. Sputtering, she clamped her hands over his and shoved.

  “Why are you spoiling all the fun?” He asked, cocking his head to the side and sporting a shit-eating smirk that lifted the corner of his very kissable mouth. “I quite like having you in my arms.”

  Was that water in her ears or had his voice dropped an octave and sounded sexier? As if that was actually possible, she mused as her mind suddenly drifted south. Her curiosity piqued by the bulge pressing into her backside. Bad move under the circumstances. Was that an anaconda in his swim trunks or was he just happy to see her?

  Like a catalyst, his arousal awakened hers. Her belly started to churn and her sex tingled with need. Unsettled by her below-the-belt musings and her body’s response, Yvonne kicked away from him, using his thighs for a springboard. Hopefully the distance would diminish the inexhaustible sexual charge ping ponging between them. Anymore heat and she’d spontaneously combust.

  Taken by surprise, Paolo let her go. Quickly putting some distance between them, she bobbed toward the other side of the pool. Before turning around to face him, she clamped her arms over her breast.

  “Tsk…tsk…why all the false modesty. We’re both adults here. And I’m yours for the taking,” he said, opening his arms wide.

  Like warm bronze poured over muscle, Paolo Saito’s body called for a hands-on exploration. If he would have been anyone else, she’d be sorely tempted to take him up on his offer. She’d start with tracing the smooth contours of his broad shoulders and chest. Then follow that with trailing her fingertips over the tapered lines of his lean waist and hips. She’d dip her hands inside the waist band of his trunks and squeeze his firm…


  Yvonne squeezed her eyes shut. What was she doing? Losing my damn mind, she surmised. Before she did something she’d surely regret, Yvonne searched for the exit ladder. Paolo stood in the center of the pool blocking her path. If she wanted to get out, she would have to climb over the side, giving him an undeserving eye full.

  Silently, Yvonne weighed her options and the feelings he evoked by just looking at her or uttering her name. Since one route didn’t involve her repenting in the morning, the debate was short lived. With the water swirling around her like warm molasses, she turned around.

  “Don’t leave, Yvonne.”

  Three simple words and he cracked her resolve.

  *****

  Paolo watched her lean into the pool wall and then hesitate. Seeing this as an opening in the wall she’d erected between them, he swam over and placed his hands on either side of hers.

  With only a few inches separating them, he smelled her citrus-scented shampoo. Afraid she might bolt at any second, he resisted the urge to bury his face in the silky wet locks. Instead he inched closer, stopping short of touching her.

  Paolo groaned. The heat, rolling off of her, weakened his knees and made his cock harder than a lead pipe.

  “Don’t leave,” he implored barely above a whisper.

  Paulo’s eyes widened. He’d done the unthinkable. He asked, no, more like begged a woman to stay. He hadn’t lowered himself to this level in over six years, not since Gia. She’d still walked out the door, leaving him because he wasn’t good enough, rich enough.

  Unfortunately, his past didn’t lessen his desire to see her stay. His desire for this woman was just too great. Impatient and bolstered by her silence, Paulo reached out and tilted her chin up. It was an awkward position, the end result would be the same as he lowered his head and crushed his lips to hers.

  Pressing his advantage, he used his tongue to slide between her lips. A moan exploded at the back of his throat. She tasted sweeter than he could have imagined! Of course, he’d planned on a slow exploration, a long overdue lesson to prove she wasn’t as indifferent to him as she pretended to be. Unfortunately, the dynamic of the kiss changed when her tongue met his and matched his fervor.