Naughty Flings: Twelve Naughty Little Romps

by Alexa Silver

  Chase McCall pulled off his red Scamps cap and wiped off the sweat running into his eyes after the five-mile-long jog that the team’s new trainer had ordered. He glanced at the stands, crowded with reporters and coaches, then at her. She stood a couple of yards away next to the bleachers, one foot on the ground, the other set on its heel two benches up. Toned shoulders and a chestnut-colored ponytail gleamed in the Arizona sun as she leaned forward, grabbed her toe and stretched her right hamstring.

  Though Terri was clad in workout gear that covered her modestly from neck to mid-thigh, she might as well have been naked, judging by the avid expressions of the baseball players circled around her. Oh, they were acting casual—sipping water, joking and bantering while toweling off sweat—but Chase saw the sneaky glances running up and down their hot new trainer’s taut, fit body. Her stretch gave the males a great view of her perfect ass.

  She lifted her foot off the bench, swung it behind her and grabbed her ankle with both hands. Arching her back stretched the front of her body, lifting a gorgeous set—C-cups, he figured—skyward.

  Strong, confident, beautiful. The way she carried herself was mega-hot, like the sexy Dommes in his favorite porn. His shorts got a little cramped, and he resisted the urge to shift his balls into a more comfortable position.

  “Hey, guys, don’t drink too much water.” Her clear, high voice held a note of command.

  “I thought staying hydrated was good.” He took another swig from his bottle.

  Dropping her foot to the ground, she turned and focused on him for the first time. She smiled, but her green eyes held wariness. Her full lips were slightly pursed. “That’s true, but we’re about to do some yoga stretching and that will include inversions. Don’t want y’all to puke.”

  The others laughed, and Chase asked, “Yoga? Isn’t that girlie stuff?”

  “Yeah,” another player said. “My wife does that.”

  “Yeah, well, y’all are gonna do it too.” Despite her soft southern drawl, Terri’s tone brooked no argument.

  Chase huffed, and another player snorted. “When pigs fly.”

  She laughed. “Cute. Shall I tell the GM you couldn’t finish my first workout?”

  The chit-chat and banter abruptly stopped. Everyone knew that only half of the players on the field would be picked for the active roster. The others would be sent down to the minors or worse, let go completely, their careers over before they’d started.

  Chase himself was on the other side of thirty. Not very far, but thirty-two was old for any pro sport. The youngsters would have another chance. He wouldn’t. If he didn’t make the team, he was done with pro sports—or rather, pro sports would be done with him. He asked, “Where should I put my mat?”

  Nervous chuckles ensued before Terri said, “No mats. Just grass.” She waved at center field. “I love doing yoga outside.”

  *****

  Wincing, Chase lowered himself into the hotel hot tub. The rooftop patio was deserted, just as he’d hoped. Training camp had facilities, of course, but he didn’t think it wise to expose his aches and weaknesses to the watching coaches. They didn’t need to know that Terri’s first workout had knocked the stuffing out of him.

  The other, younger players hadn’t seemed to be bothered a shred, he thought sourly as he tipped back the beer he’d brought up with him. He swallowed, relishing the contrast between the cold brew sliding down his throat and the steamy bubbles caressing his tortured flesh, then put the bottle on the rim of the tub. He watched the sun set behind the mountains and tried to empty his mind of all thoughts, as the new trainer had advised. “Om,” he muttered before bursting out in a hearty laugh.

  “What’s so funny?”

  He immediately recognized that clear, high voice. Hell, he’d heard it all day long.

  He bit back a sigh. “Hello, Terri.”

  “Chase McCall, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah.” He took another swig of beer and continued staring at the view. Maybe she’d take the hint and disappear.

  No such luck.

  Fabric swished, and he couldn’t resist turning his head to watch her drop a white hotel robe to the wooden deck, exposing a red bikini that didn’t do much to hide her perfect body.

  He averted his gaze. He didn’t know Terri well, but hitting on the team’s new trainer wouldn’t be a smart career move. Any suggestion of sexual harassment could get him and the team sued. He’d be out of a job, so Terri was another hazard to avoid.

  She slid into the hot tub with a sigh, settling herself opposite him. “Yessss...”

  He glanced at her. Those big green eyes were closed and her face bright with ecstasy. She shifted a little, then stretched her neck from side to side. Slightly hunched shoulders relaxed.

  “Did that workout get to you?” he asked, a little surprised.

  “Heck, yeah. Why work out if it’s easy? Your body needs the stress to develop. My workouts are always a little too hard.”

  “Well, that makes me feel better. I thought I was losin’ it. Everything hurts, even muscles I didn’t know I had.”

  She laughed. “That’s the beauty of yoga. A carefully selected series of poses will exercise everything in your body—muscles, joints, ligaments...the works.”

  “Hell, even my feet hurt.”

  Her eyes popped open and she straightened “That could be your shoes. Gimme your foot.”

  Though startled, he extended his right foot toward her beneath the churning water. She took it in a soft palm, and rubbed, starting off gently. “Hmmm...yes...there’s a large callus on your big toe, and part of the next toe seems jammed beneath it. How come your previous trainer didn’t have you fitted with custom shoes? This is ridiculous. I’ll bring in someone to take casts of your feet, get you some decent shoes.”

  She jabbed fingers between his toes, trying to separate them he guessed, but the prod seemed to stab through him. He jerked, involuntarily kicking her in the belly. “Oof!”

  “Holy fuck, I’m so sorry.” He curled, bringing both feet back into his personal space and well away from her.

  “It’s okay.” She gave him a weak smile, rubbing her tummy. “I guess I went a little too aggressively into that foot. Will you trust me with the other one?”

  “Will you trust me not to kick you again? I’m really sorry.”

  She waved a drippy hand. “Don’t worry. I know you didn’t mean it.”

  “Not the best career move, kicking the new head trainer.”

  She smiled and reached for his other foot. “No, but new shoes will be a good career move.”

  This time, the foot massage was gentle. He leaned his head back against the tub’s rim and let his mind drift. “Niiiice...” he murmured. He didn’t want to fall asleep, so he said, “Give me one of yours.”

  “Okay.”

  A slender foot slid into his lap. Even through the bubbles he could see that her pedicure was... “Green?”

  She giggled, an oddly girlish sound from this strict disciplinarian. “I like to be surprising.”

  “You are, that.” He lifted her foot away from his crotch, shunting away the thought of her soft toes caressing his cock.

  “I am?”

  “Yeah, none of the guys expected a lady trainer. We usually get crusty old men with hair growing out of their noses and ears.”

  “I’d expect more women, if I were you. I can’t be the only female out there who wants the money and prestige of coaching in the majors.”

  “Coaching?” He rubbed her heel, then along the callused underside of her foot.

  She did the same to him, following his lead. “Yeah. I don’t have anywhere else to go in women’s baseball, so...” She shrugged her shoulders. Wet, they gleamed in the setting sun.

  “So you wanna be...the first? The first female head coach in the majors?”

  “Yep.”

  “Wow.” He huffed out a little laugh. “In comparison, my goals seem so modest.”

  “Hey, you’ve had a good career. Set
a couple of records—“

  Had. Past tense. Damn. “You don’t have to make me feel better. I know it’s coming to an end.”

  “Probably not this season.”

  He jerked his head up and stared at her.

  She went on, “Not if you keep up the pace you’ve set. And certainly not if you get properly fitted shoes.”

  “Aw, you’re just being nice because I have your foot.” He pinched her baby toe and ran a fingernail along her arch.

  She laughed and squirmed.

  Don’t get turned on, Terri told herself. Don’t get distracted from your goal. No affairs!

  Not even with Chase McCall. But God, he was hot. She didn’t like boys, and most of the players were in their early twenties—children, as far as she was concerned. She liked men. Tall, dark, handsome men. And Chase filled the bill admirably, as well as he filled out his shorts.

  “It’s weird,” he said. “When you think that there are women in just about every other kind of job, but none are coaching men’s pro sports.”

  “Yep. It’s the last great glass ceiling. And I want to break it.” No distractions!

  “Where were you coaching before?”

  “All over,” she said cheerfully. She liked talking about her career. “I’ve been lucky. Baseball has taken me to every continent. My last job was coaching the national women’s team in Japan.”

  “Impressive. Japan is a baseball powerhouse.” He squeezed her baby toe, then went to the next one in line.

  She did the same. “Yep, they take it very seriously over there.”

  “I played an exhibition game outside of Kyoto a couple of years ago. Beautiful city.”

  “It’s my favorite place in Japan. Full of lovely temples and gardens. Very calming.”

  He laughed. “Not when you’re playing in front of thousands of screaming baseball fans.”

  “The Japanese are intense.”

  “I bet you fitted right in.”

  “I’m intense?” She grinned at him. “Yep, I’ve heard that before.”

  He smiled back, meeting her gaze, and she found herself reluctantly turned on. She stamped down the feeling.

  He said, “I’ve heard that a time or two myself, even though I try to stay mellow.”

  “Easier said than done. For me, hard workouts and yoga help.” So did sex, but she wasn’t gonna say so.

  “Yeah, me too. And if I have a little wine with dinner and a port for dessert, I’ll sleep like a very happy baby. See you down there?” His tone was casual.

  Was he asking her to dinner? “S-sure. Give me a little time to clean up.”

  *****

  A half-hour later, Terri slipped into a linen sheath dress—green to match her toes—and brushed her hair until it shone. She slipped gold hoop earrings into her lobes and stared at her makeup case.

  She hadn’t opened it since she’d come to Arizona. So why should she wear makeup now?

  Why was she even thinking about it?

  She sat heavily on her bed.

  Damn, damn and double damn. She was thinking about it because she wanted to bang Chase McCall.

  “To hell with it, and to hell with him.” She shoved her bare feet into sandals. Her happy, well-massaged feet. Chase had a nice touch and had rubbed her feet just the way she liked, without being prompted. Would his hands on the rest of her body feel as good?

  She stood and went to the mirror for a last check of her appearance, and told her reflection. “No. You’re not going to. It doesn’t matter that he’s hot. It doesn’t matter that he’s nice. It doesn’t matter that you haven’t had sex since...since...”

  Fuck. She couldn’t even remember when she’d last had sex.

  That was very wrong. She was a healthy thirty-eight year-old woman.

  And as for getting exactly what she wanted? That was even more rare. Men who would give up control were hard to find. And she liked control.

  “So why shouldn’t I? We’re two adults. And he might just...”

  You work for the same sports franchise, that’s why. A macho ball player? He’ll want to call the shots. It would be just plain stupid. And you’re not stupid.

  “Except about men,” she muttered. She’d had more broken hearts than a smashed box of Valentine candy. “Another good reason why you shouldn’t,” she told her reflection.

  She picked up her purse and left the room.

  *****

  Though the hotel’s dining room was crowded with players and fans, Chase managed to score a relatively quiet table with a fake palm on one side and a curtain on the other. While he waited for Terri to show up, he battled the demons in his head.

  Okay, so she’s beautiful. She’s smart. She loves baseball.

  But she’s the new trainer. If we fool around and things go wrong... He shuddered.

  A few words to management from Terri like, “Chase McCall? He used to be good...” and he’d be off the team, his career shattered.

  A hush fell over the crowded, noisy room. He heard a player say, with reverence in his tone, “Holy shit, she sure cleans up nice.”

  Chase stood and looked toward the door. Yeah, she sure did clean up nicely. Her slim, unadorned dress allowed her natural beauty to shine, as did her lack of makeup, which showcased glowing, perfect skin. Shiny brown hair swept her shoulders. She was so gorgeous that his eyes ached just looking at her.

  She strode toward him, smiling. He had a brief vision of her doing the same thing. Naked. Tits bobbing, hips swinging... He bet she was a firecracker in the sack. All that confidence oozing outta her was sexy as hell.

  “Shit,” he muttered.

  “What?” she asked.

  He helped her into a chair, then slumped into his. He hummed along with the jazz band playing in the adjacent bar. I’ve got it bad, and that ain’t good...

  “Ohhh....”

  He raised his head and saw her nodding in understanding.

  “If it’s any comfort... Me too.”

  He rubbed his face. “At least we can both be adults about it, talk about it.”

  “Yep, well, you’re totally distracting, and sex would be even more distracting.” Terri’s tone was firm, matter-of-fact. She tapped fingertips against the linen tablecloth. Was she edgy, too?

  “And it would be a terrible career move for me.”

  She frowned and even looked a little offended. She opened her mouth to speak, but was interrupted by a server bustling over to their table. “What can I get you folks to drink?”

  “Prosecco, please.” Her tone was brisk and assured, as usual.

  Despite another flare of desire, Chase focused on the matter at hand. “I’d like a glass of red. Do you have any California pinots?”

  “We have an excellent Rombauer Zin that’s comparable, sir.”

  “Umm, they’re a good vineyard. Okay.”

  The server put dinner menus onto the table and left.

  He eyed Terri. “What did I say that was so bad?”

  “Why would an affair with me be a terrible career move? Being with the trainer—that would be smart, wouldn’t it?”

  “Not if it didn’t work out. And it could be interpreted as sexual harassment.”

  She smiled. “But who’s harassing whom?”

  “Men are usually thought to have all the power in this situation,” he said slowly. “But here...you’re the one in control.”

  She grinned at him. Jesus fuck, this woman is sex on a stick.

  She said, “Have you ever thought about giving up control?”

  Chase stared at her. “You mean...you mean...some kind of kinky dominatrix thing?”

  She didn’t say anything. She just licked her lower lip and smiled, a sinful glint in her eye.

  “Screw dinner.” He tossed a twenty on the table for the drinks and stood.

  Chapter 2

  She practically dragged him to her room, and once she’d gotten him inside, slammed him into the wall and tore off his jacket. “Nice of you to dress properly,” she murmu
red while she made quick work of his tie, then ripped his shirt open.

  “You too.” He grabbed her head and pulled her in to kiss her hard on the lips. “I practically came in my pants when you walked into the room. I’ve been hot for you all fuckin’ day long.”

  He shoved his tongue into her mouth. Pain lanced through him, starting where she’d bitten his tongue. “If I want your tongue, I’ll go in and get it,” she snapped.

  He jerked back and stared at her, jaw slightly agape.

  “Have you done this before? Not sex, but giving up control to your partner?”

  “Not really,” he said slowly. “Not as such... I mean, there have been times that a woman pushed me down and mounted me, but nothing stated. Nothing blatant.”

  She slid her hand into his hair and clenched her fist, holding him tightly. “Nothing like this.”

  His scalp tingled. Tears started in his eyes and he blinked. His cock jerked, hardened. “No, nothing like this.”

  She released her grip to rub his scalp, and the tingling faded, replaced by warmth. “Okay, so you’re a newbie. Why did you agree to give yourself to me so quickly?”

  Give yourself to me. A shudder ran through his body. “The very thought of it... It’s hot as hell. You’re hot as hell. And your confidence is a big part of it.”

  She grinned again. “Do you have any idea what’s going to happen?”

  He shook his head.

  “Have you tested recently?”

  “Uh, yeah. I’m not, well, I do fool around, but they’re all nice girls.”

  She grimaced. “I’ve heard that before.”

  “No, I mean, I tested before I came out here. I figured—”

  “You figured that there would be a few baseball groupies who needed to get banged.”

  “Well, yeah. Uh, what about you?”

  “I’m clear, and not in a fertile stage of the month.” Her matter-of-fact tone took away any discomfort he might have felt. After all, they’d become awfully intimate awfully quickly.

  She went on, “Is there anything you wouldn’t want to do? Some call these hard boundaries.”

  He frowned. “In terms of kinky stuff? I’ve never done anything kinky.”