by Ann Jacobs
The silence was beginning to hang unpleasantly between them. “He had to be insane.” That came out louder than he intended, drew the attention of the waiter.
“Not insane. Just scared somebody would out him to his very proper family, and willing to live in the shadows with his decoy—me—and escape whenever he could into the club scene where he could indulge his darkest fantasies.” She fiddled with her cup, her fingertips clutching at the warmth. “That is, until he couldn’t take the lying anymore.”
Jimmy was feeling closed in, too. “Let’s get out of here.” He glanced at the bill then stood and fished a couple of twenties from his wallet. By the time he laid them on the table and looked for Julie, she’d already headed outside.
What was there about Jimmy that had made her need to spill her guts? It wasn’t as though they were lifelong friends, or even long-term fuck buddies. Fighting back the urge to cry, Julie held on to the wrought iron rail and tried to focus on the gently rolling river below.
She felt his body heat and realized he’d come up behind her. As though he knew she needed to get herself collected, he didn’t say anything, just splayed his big hands over her belly and drew her close. They stayed that way a long time, as boats came and went like time in slow motion and tourists flowed by them on the street, barely noticed.
“Sorry for dumping all the angst on you,” she mumbled, covering his hands with hers and leaning closer so her words would carry on the breeze.
“No problem, baby. I’m glad you figured I’d understand. I just have trouble imagining any man wanting another woman when he had you, let alone a guy. But then I’m disgustingly hetero.”
Unlike her ex, Jimmy had to bend to whisper in her ear. His size and obvious strength made her feel protected, although he’d left no doubt in her mind that he’d enslave her sexually without a qualm. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah. I’m sure. I can’t get hard thinking about having sex with anybody else, male or female, when I’m this close to you.”
“Not even in a club scene?”
He nipped her earlobe, blew gently on it. “Nope. Not that I haven’t enjoyed threesomes every now and then, or even the occasional orgy among friends. But I’ve never gotten into the guy-on-guy action. For the most part, I’m into mastering just one woman at a time.”
His cock swelled and hardened against her spine. Good thing he had on loose cargo shorts or he might just have an obvious problem if they broke apart and started strolling down the sidewalk. “You do a great job of that.” She hesitated then turned and brushed her lips across his cheek. “Master.”
“Am I?”
For a Dom, he sounded a little hesitant. “If you want to be. You’ve probably figured out from my confession session that I’m older than you—that is, if you hadn’t already guessed by looking at me.”
He let his hands drop to his sides, stared for a long time toward the opposite riverbank. Finally he moved beside her and turned her to face him, holding both her hands as firmly as the strongest set of steel handcuffs could manage. “A little, probably. But it doesn’t matter. Age is just a number. Forget about that, and Lloyd and his hairdresser, and show me your beautiful smile.”
How could she help obeying? Being near him made her feel happy, protected. She felt her sadness dissipate on a gentle gust of wind off the river when she arranged her face into a smile that felt surprisingly genuine. “How’s this?” she asked, her gaze locked on his expressive brown eyes.
“Much better, baby. Let’s go get us some dessert. One of the guys on the team was saying the other day that this place called River Street Sweets makes the best pralines on earth.”
“They do. You’ll have to keep me back, or I’ll be likely to gobble so many of them that I’ll eat myself right out of my livelihood.” She laughed as they made a beeline down the walkway toward the store that oozed potential obesity.
Jimmy took her arm, herded her through the noisy crowd of mostly college kids, with the occasional retiree couple and young family sprinkled in. “Is it always this crowded on River Street?”
“This isn’t half bad. You ought to come here on a weekend when fall sets in, after it starts to cool off. All the nightspots rock, dusk to dawn.”
“Nothing like centuries ago, when some of these places were built,” Jimmy said, his tone a little wistful as he looked at the ornate ironwork on the balcony of a century-old building.
“No. I imagine it would have felt a lot different, back when ships came up the river to load their cotton and rice from these buildings. Ladies in hoopskirts carrying parasols, gentlemen in string ties and vests, and sporting chin whiskers.”
He fingered his goatee as they took a spot at the candy-store counter to wait their turn. “Well, I’ve got the chin whiskers, anyhow.”
“Yes, you do.” Julie squeezed his hand. “I like the way they tickle my…” She’d have said “pussy” but she didn’t want to scandalize the pair of older, conservatively dressed women standing next to them.
“You do?” He sounded surprised.
“Uh-huh. You look good, too.”
Jimmy grinned. “Glad you think so. My ex hated the facial hair, but I didn’t grow it for her. I found out my rookie year that my helmet strap feels better when there’s a cushion between it and my chin.”
Before Julie could ask him about this “ex”, the busy counter clerk came up to take their order. Soon they headed outside, Jimmy carrying a small bag with four pralines that he set between them on a bench overlooking the river.
When he took two of the candies out and handed her one, she took a bite. “You mentioned an ex. Want to tell me about what happened?”
“Same thing as happens to a lot of kids who marry right out of college. We’d been together what seemed like forever, but the marriage didn’t last two years.” Frowning as though he didn’t want to talk about it, he downed a praline in one bite. “You’re right, these are damn good.”
Julie sensed there was more to it than simply growing up and apart from one another, but she wasn’t going to pry. “Yes, they are.” For a long time they sat, watching boats go by. The silence soon got deafening.
Then Jimmy turned to her and took her hand. “We got into BDSM games. Pretty soon Belinda started playing with older Doms at the club whenever I was out of town for away games. And sometimes when I was home. End of story.”
When he let her hand go and looked back out at the river, Julie knew the breakup affected him more than he admitted. “It obviously bothered you. Understandably.”
“Yeah. The reason I’m here instead of spending time back home before training camp starts next week is because I don’t think I could run into her without wanting to do something…”
“I’m sorry, Jimmy.”
He looked at Julie again, and she saw the hurt look in his eyes. “Wouldn’t be so bad if her dad wasn’t the foreman at my parents’ ranch. He lives not even a mile from the main house, so she could pop in any time.”
“That has to be hard.”
“Not so much anymore.” He paused. “But we started dating in seventh grade. I still can’t go home and remember the good times we had there without getting pissed all over again. I can’t keep from remembering, though, especially knowing she could breeze in any day, right onto the Lazy B.”
Julie wondered why Jimmy’s parents kept the woman’s father on but figured it wasn’t her business. “In time the hurt will go away. The first time I went back to New York for a photo shoot, I ran into Lloyd and Rico on the street in midtown Manhattan. They looked happy as clams while I was still an emotional wreck. I went to my hotel room and cried for hours. After a couple of years I was able to run into them and feel nothing at all.” Well, not really. There was that small twinge of regret that she’d been so blind for so long, believing Lloyd was just busy the weeks at a time when he ignored her between gorging them on BDSM sessions at the club. But she didn’t need to tell Jimmy that.
When he turned to her, he wore a determined gr
in. “I’ll live, baby. But thanks for listening. We’ve been working off our breakfast for a couple of hours now, and I’m getting hungry again. What say we go check out the seafood at that famous restaurant up on Broad Street? Are you up for some stair-climbing?”
He didn’t have to tell her it was an appetite-boosting climb from the cobblestone-paved River Street up to Bay Street and a short walk from there to the restaurant, but the prospect of eating the Southern-style fare while getting a breathtaking, panoramic view of the river and historic sites made the trek worth the effort. “Sure. Can’t do River Street without going to the Pirates’ House.”
Good thing they both were in great shape. Otherwise they’d have been huffing and puffing like the couple behind them in line. They sipped their beers at the bar and waited for a table. “I wonder how many of these customers hiked up from River Street?” she asked casually.
“Most of them, I guess.” Jimmy drained his glass and set it on the bar.
The bartender grinned. “Most locals come in from Bay Street. You must be tourists.”
“Newcomers. At least Jimmy is. He plays for the Rebels.”
The bartender held out a hand. “Hey, I recognize you. Jimmy Bronson. The sackmaster. How’s Savannah treatin’ you so far?”
Jimmy smiled. “Just fine. How long is it gonna be before we get to eat?”
Julie figured he must be hungry again. It must take a lot of fuel to keep his huge body going. “I bet we could eat in here if we get the buffet.”
“That’s right,” the bartender said. “Service isn’t as good, but I’ll see you get taken care of. Fried chicken’s the main course, but there’s lots of other stuff—crab cakes and sweet potatoes and turnip greens. You get bread and dessert, too.”
Jimmy looked at Julie. “That okay with you, baby?”
She nodded. “I love Southern cooking. It reminds me of home. I have to be careful, though, or I’ll eat myself right out of a job.”
“You look great. Hot as hell. Not bone thin like some models I’ve run into.”
Julie noticed the sincere expression on his face as he looked down at her. “I used to be, but as I’ve gotten older I’ve switched from high-fashion modeling to doing ad layouts where my face is more important than how my body looks in clothes.”
“It looks fine to me, baby. Come on, let’s dig into the food. I love buffets.” He grinned. “Next week training camp starts, and I’d better love them, because that’s what I’ll get every day. Today I want to chow down. We’ll take the buffet, then, Sam.”
The fact that Jimmy bothered to note the bartender’s name impressed Julie. Lloyd had never treated the people who served him as individuals. She had often wondered how he managed to remember her own name.
* * * * *
“Do you want to go to the club tonight?” Jimmy asked when they got back to their condo building and were waiting for the elevator. “Or should we stay in and get to know each other better?”
She didn’t know. There was the exciting prospect of playing with him in a BDSM club setting. But then a dungeon wasn’t exactly the sort of place to get to know a lover better, a fact she’d learned during the breakup with Lloyd. “You’re the Master,” she said lightly.
“Yeah, I am that. And I want to spend time alone with my beautiful sub before I share her with anybody, even if the sharing doesn’t involve swapping.” He frowned. “Sorry, babe, it’s gonna take a while before I build up enough trust again to let my woman feel pleasure from somebody else, even in a club scene.”
It would have thrilled Julie if she’d ever heard that from Lloyd. By the end, he’d treated her like a prop—nothing more than a convenient female to set the stage for the orgies he orchestrated. But that was past. She was with Jimmy now. Though she had no illusions that their relationship would last, considering the age difference and disparity in career interests, she intended to enjoy the invigorating, arousing ride. “Let’s stay here, then.”
“Okay. How about us working out first and then holing up at my place? Mind you it’s a temporary pad—I’m having a house built out on the Intracoastal Waterway—and nowhere near as plush as your condo.”
They stepped inside the elevator and pushed the buttons to their respective floors. “I’d like that,” Julie said before he stepped out on the fourth floor, leaving her to go change at her own condo.
* * * * *
Sweating had never felt so good. Jimmy finished a third set of bench presses and set the barbell back on the rack so he could catch his breath and watch Julie work out on the stair-climber to cool down.
God, but she was strong as well as gorgeous. Not like a female bodybuilder, though. Her body was smooth and toned, not bunched up with overdeveloped muscles like a man’s. He guessed they both worked out like fanatics because their jobs required it—hers so she would look good for the cameras, his because playing defensive end in the NFL required extraordinary strength and agility.
He moved to the next station, set the pins for the weights he wanted and positioned himself under the bar for squats. By the time he finished, his thighs and glutes were burning. Time to hit the free weights and do some dumbbell curls and then cool down. His mind wandered to his apartment, more specifically to the bed with Julie in it.
* * * * *
She might be thirty-five, but Jimmy made her feel young. Desirable in a way no fawning photographer or agent ever had. Nude, she stretched across the soft Egyptian cotton sheet on Jimmy’s bed and looked at the life-size vinyl poster of him that stared down at her while he showered and shaved.
“You look downright fierce,” she called out toward the open bathroom door. “I’d like to see you in your uniform one of these days.”
“You will. In about a month. Season’s almost on us now.”
She remembered the bartender had called him something. What was it? Oh, yes. Sackmaster. “Why did Sam call you the sackmaster?”
“Because I specialize in sacking quarterbacks. That means, pretty lady, that I’m good at getting to them and throwing them to the ground before they can make their throws.”
Naked but for a towel slung over his shoulders, he came out, his hair damp and tousled as he stared at her. The hot look in his eyes practically scalded her. “Omigod, baby, I like the way you look in my bed. I think I’ll keep you there.”
As she watched, he dug soft restraints from a dresser drawer and looped them expertly around her wrists and ankles. “You’ve done this a few times before, haven’t you, Master?”
“A few. I’ll have to get you some toys, though, because I don’t keep them around, just in case. Hold on.” Purposefully, he left the bedroom, mumbling under his breath.
Where was he going? Julie heard a door opening and closing in another room. The kitchen, she guessed, because it sounded too far away to be the living room next door. “Jimmy?”
“Comin’, baby.” When he came back, he had his hand held behind him. “This ought to make do until I get to a toy store. It might be pretty cold, though.”
“What?”
“This.” He showed her a large, dark-green cucumber. “Want it?”
“Oh, yes.” She’d never been fucked by a vegetable but she found the idea surprisingly arousing as she watched him slide it into a condom. “Are you—”
“I am, but first I want to taste you.” His tongue on her toe felt like warm silk, and he made a path up her calf and thigh that sent waves of excitement straight up to her cunt. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he muttered as he found her damp labia and stroked with his tongue.
Julie felt beautiful. Desired. This was a Master who’d protect and keep her, for as long as it lasted. She wouldn’t dare think about forever. With what he was doing to her clit now, sucking and tonguing it, she could barely think at all.
His cheeks felt smooth, a delightful contrast with the rasp of his goatee and mustache on her most sensitive flesh. She wanted to touch him, too, but she was well restrained. For his pleasure, but for hers, too.
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br /> “This is gonna be cold. I want you to warm it up for me.” He kissed her cunt first then worked the sheathed cucumber in and out, a little at first then more.
She shivered. “That feels…weird.” Not like him or anybody else who’d ever fucked her. “Good, though. It’s getting warm now.”
He laid his head on her belly, tongued her navel. “You ought to have a big diamond here. Maybe I’ll get you one. Would you like that, baby?”
She laughed. “I’d hate to wear a monster diamond where most folks would never see it.” When he worked the cucumber in and out of her cunt, she shuddered. She wasn’t used to playful games along with her BDSM experiences, but she found she liked it. Maybe it was just that she liked Jimmy.
Withdrawing the cucumber, he set it aside and straddled her face. “Swallow my cock.”
When she did, he braced her head in both his huge hands and laced his fingers through her hair. “Imagine how my scissors will feel, cutting this off as close as I can to your gorgeous scalp.” He slid his cock over her tongue and past her gag reflex as he spoke in a soft, mesmerizing voice.
She couldn’t talk, so she tongued him furiously, swallowed the salty lubrication that already was escaping from his slit. God, but he had her so hot she was about to explode.
“Then I’ll run the clippers over you like this—” He made a buzzing noise as he moved his hands rapidly over her head. “And I’ll rub my cock all over the stubble. Then while I shave you, I’ll make you suck me some more. You’ll come when I tell you to, at the first touch of the razor.”
She was coming now, huge bursts of sensation that began in her mouth and sped down to her nipples, her belly, her wet cunt. “Mmmm.” Her attempt to speak against his cock head sent delicious vibrations through her.