by Sara Brookes
“Well, it will be awhile before I can play that well again.”
“I’ve waited this long. I’m patient. Come one, I’ll buy you a soda in the clubhouse.”
They found two stools at the bar. Elena settled for the specialty beer they kept on tap while he was perfectly happy with a tall glass of ice-cold water. He’d been worried about his reaction to being so exposed to alcohol again. Wondered how he’d handle the temptation that wouldn’t just be in theory. True to his word the first day he’d returned, he hadn’t allowed anyone to walk on eggshells around him. Even when it came to drinking. He much preferred the buzz Elena could give him naturally now. Though he knew he still had a long way to go, he found he truly had lost his taste for alcohol.
As he began to relax a soreness spread across his shoulders and upper back, causing him to rotate his arms to work out the tight muscles.
“Shoulder all right?”
“Back is just sore. Not used to moving that way anymore.” He swung his arm a little, wincing at the twinge of pain blooming between his shoulder blades. His knees were giving him a little trouble too. Playing had never made him this sore before. Then again, last time he’d been out on the links he’d been a heck of a lot younger.
“I know a guy at my gym who could help you out. Likes to help out during injury recovery. Plus you’d have the added benefit of gaining a few yards. Most of the pros on tour right now can drive three hundred yards easily.”
He snorted. Golf had come a long way since he’d last played. Certainly made it something he was going to have to check out on television next time he had a moment to sit down and watch. “Amazing how many muscles it takes to hit a tiny white ball.”
“Elena, haven’t seen you in a while.”
“Jackson, nice to see you again.” She tilted her face toward the man to accept the kiss on her cheek. The newcomer was lanky with a shock of white hair, which had been combed neatly into place. Alex wasn’t much into clothing and brands, but the polo shirt and slacks the man wore were definitely on the high end. Certainly someone who was a member of the club.
A warm smile added a gleam to older man’s gentle brown eyes. “And who do we have here?”
“Alex Conners. He’s rediscovering his love of the game. We just finished hitting a few buckets on the range.”
“And the verdict is?”
“Still undecided. I played in college. Not so young anymore.”
“Aren’t we all?” He offered his hand. “Jackson Truman is the name. I watched you out there. You’ve got one hell of a drive. Shaky, but once you have your confidence back I suspect you’ll be a force to be reckoned with. In fact—damn, that’s my cell. Tee time. Look, I have to go, but give me a call when you’re ready to tee up again. We could always use a fourth.”
Jackson handed him a business card then rushed off.
“So does the thought of playing a round thrill you or scare the crap out of you?”
“Both.”
Elena laughed. “Perfect. You’ll be back out there in no time. Why don’t we hit a few more buckets and call it a day?”
Alex couldn’t think of a better plan. “Sounds good to me.”
* * * * *
Alex stood at the wide window, staring at the two rows of newborns in the nursery. The one in the farthest corner with a white tag marked Flynn wailed for attention. His face was red to show his anger as a nurse prepped a bottle just a few feet away. He wanted his meal and he wanted it now.
“Got a set of pipes just like his dad.” Patrick clapped Alex on the shoulder and squeezed.
“Sorry. I would have been here sooner but we had a rush at the shop once everyone heard. Steady stream didn’t want to end. Kicked everyone out, posted a note on the door and came over.”
Patrick waved away his apology. “You didn’t miss much. Except for all the pacing we did in the waiting room while we waited to hear something.”
“How are the elated parents? Glowing and gushing about their son?”
“Sleeping. Allison had the nurse bring the baby out here so Beth could get some sleep. Ryan’s curled up in the bed next to her knocked out cold. Long, intense labor from what Elena said.”
“They’re probably going to need all the sleep they can get.”
“You look…better.” Alex snorted at Patrick’s inquisitive tone. “I just mean you look better than you have for a long time. Even better than you did when you came back from rehab.”
“So you’re saying sobriety suits me.”
“I’m saying Elena suits you.” Patrick turned, holding up his hand. “I don’t know specifics and honestly I don’t want to know what exactly is going on between you two. What you do is your business. Please, god, keep it your business. All I want is for you to be happy. And healthy. You haven’t been either for a while.”
Alex was quiet for a time, watching the nurses bustle around the nursery, moving to attend to every need of the newborns. “I know. I don’t know what it is we have, but it works. And I’m discovering things about myself I never knew. For the first time in forever. I don’t remember being this happy with Vivian. Maybe I’m just deluding myself and that’s not really the case, but yeah, things are going well.”
“Glad to hear. Really glad.”
“So what’s the verdict on the name? Did they manage to settle on something before he decided to make an appearance?”
“Malcolm. Mal for short.” Patrick turned back to the window, falling silent as the nurse change a diaper. The baby calmed as she lifted him into her arms, cradling him close as she offered him the nipple from a thin bottle. “Family name from what Ryan says. Allison started giggling when they announced it so I think there’s a little more there than meets the eye. Never know with those two. Regardless kiddo in there is going to have more love than he can stand.”
“Until the first two-in-the-morning feeding comes along and Beth is at the station working her shift. Ryan will have his hands full.”
“He’ll love every stinking minute of it.”
“Yeah, you’re right, he will. Lucky bastard.”
Chapter Eleven
Alex was so busy with the evening rush at Perfect Shot, he barely offered more than a smile to Elena when she arrived. He was so up to his elbows in froth and caramel sauce, he’d skipped lunch to keep pace.
The usual three o’clock lull had never appeared and now that it was nearly eight he was hoping for a chance to simply breathe. The break he’d needed all day finally came shortly before ten when he turned from the sink to find Elena leaning against the counter.
“Busy night.”
“Something going on around town I don’t know about?”
“Just end-of-summer fever, it seems.”
“Not complaining or anything, but damn my feet hurt.”
“You look tired.”
He felt tired. All the way down into the marrow of his bones. “I’m exhausted. Sorry to say, I hope you don’t have anything planned for the night because I’m about as valuable to you right now as a limp noodle.”
“No, I had no plans tonight. But I was thinking we should play a round of golf tomorrow. Weather seems as though it will hold up. Didn’t see the weather nuts forecasting any storms. Maybe it will even be a little warm.”
“Sounds good to me, but if your tee time involves the word morning, I may just have to pass. I think I’m going to sleep for a month when I finally mange to crawl into bed.” He hefted a bag of espresso beans onto his shoulder, pouring them into the wide bowl on top of the expensive machine.
“No, I was thinking more toward dusk. Plenty of time for you to get some rest.”
“Twilight golf? All right. Been awhile since I’ve played at dusk.” Folding the bag, he snapped the cabinet shut and sealed the lid on the bowl. Task done, he started checking the condiments area to see what needed to be refilled.
“This will be a bit of a different version of golf, Alexander.” The sound of his full name stopped him cold. She only ever referred to
him that way when she had him cuffed and bound.
At her mercy.
He turned. The corners of her mouth curled up in an amused smile. The green shade of her eyes darkened a little, a sign she was more than merely amused.
His mouth went dry as she leaned over the counter and fingered the collar of his shirt. “Dig through your closet and see if you can scrounge up a nice-fitting pair of pants.”
Not a request. A quiet, controlled order. Everything inside him snapped into focus. “By nice-fitting, I assume you mean tight.”
She nodded. “Like a second skin. No tiresome underwear either. They’ll just get in my way.”
If all the blood in his body wasn’t running to his dick he might have thought to ask her what the last statement meant. He swallowed instead, waiting to see if she continued. He’d gotten to learn some of her quirks and tells over the past few months, but she still managed to surprise him occasionally.
She pushed away from the counter, swaying her hips suggestively with each step. She stopped at the door, one hand on the latch. Her hand disappeared into her pocket for a moment before she turned to face him. “No shirt either.”
How in the hell…what is she up to? “What?”
She sighed heavily, rolling her eyes. “I really don’t like repeating myself. Don’t ask me to say it again.”
He’d play along for now and would try to determine her goals later. “Tight pants. No shirt. No underwear. Got it.”
“Don’t forget your cuffs.”
“Right.”
“And this.” She tossed something toward him with an underhanded throw the best softball players in the world would be jealous of. The bell over the door jingled, signaling she had left before the object even connected with his hand. Which was good given the disbelief he felt ripple through him when he looked down to see what she wanted him to wear.
A cock ring.
The thought of standing at the tee possibly wearing only this and nothing else for her sent a surge of lust through him. When he’d first started on this journey of self-discovery he’d imagined learning a few new things about himself and going on his merry way. But Elena was opening his eyes to a fascinating world he wasn’t sure he wanted to let go of.
He didn’t want to let go of her either.
And it wasn’t due to her instruction.
She’d given him a chance when no one else wanted to bother. She was special in more ways than one. He just needed to figure out how to break down her defenses. To burrow under the stone wall she kept erecting when they were together in her room at the warehouse.
Maybe this golf trip would be the turning point.
The time when he could tell her how thankful he was for all she’d introduced him to. How he really and truly felt for her.
The bell on the door jingled again. A group of tourists came in excitedly talking about a hike they’d taken. He palmed the ring and slid it into his pocket where it hit against his leg every time he moved so he wouldn’t forget its presence.
* * * * *
The ball of nervousness bouncing around Alex’s stomach jumped into his throat as he pulled up in front of Falken Country Club. Elena leaned against her car, her arms and ankles crossed as she waited for him.
She looked so calm and casual in her pale-blue skirt and white polo shirt. She even wore a matching visor to keep her hair pulled out of her face. The state of her clothing reminded him of his decided lack of clothing. Glancing down, he noticed the ring he’d slid around his penis earlier was outlined by the tight stretch of fabric across his crotch. He was flaccid at the moment, but if he became aroused…
Christ. The sight he would make would be obscene.
Surprisingly he wasn’t even embarrassed by what he was about to do. Even though he had no fucking clue what Elena had in mind, the idea of the unknown stretched out before him was exciting. An intoxicating thrill he’d come to find was his new addiction. He loved the idea of submitting to her. Of giving her pleasure by following her commands.
He was surprised how compelled he was to serve her.
He tried not to think about the image he made as he climbed out of the car and popped the trunk. The soft whir of a golf cart’s electrical engine stopped as Elena pulled up behind him.
“Just your six iron. You won’t need anything else.” She drove away without saying more, leaving him staring after the full complement of clubs clinking around in her bag strapped to the back of the cart.
He selected the club she’d mentioned and realized his pants were too damn tight to stow the full ring of keys. His wallet was already in the console because it wouldn’t fit either. He threaded the car key off the ring, tossing the rest of the keys next to his wallet.
He came over the rise of the first tee and found her twirling a club between her palms. She walked close as he approached, trailing a finger over his torso. “So willing to please. Lovely. So lovely I may find it hard to keep my hands off you and my mind on the game. How about a bit of a wager?”
“The stakes?”
“Orgasm.”
“Yours or mine?”
“Does it really matter? Whoever is leading at the end of the front nine gets dealer’s choice.”
“Done.” He sealed the deal without hesitation, determined to be the one who gave her the orgasm even though his golf skills were sorely lacking.
“All right, then. We better get started.” Her hips swayed as she made her way to the ladies tee box about twenty yards in front of where he would hit from. As she bent over to push her tee into the soft ground, Alex caught a glimpse of bare flesh. No underwear. Nothing but pretty pink, bare skin to taunt him.
“Oh shit.”
When she stood, wiggling her hips as she prepared to hit the ball, he groaned softly in anticipation of what could possibly happen before the round ended. Something told him this wasn’t going to be a simple round of golf. She watched her ball sail through the air, arching high before landing perfectly in the fairway about one hundred and ninety yards away.
“Did you say something?”
“Nice hit.”
She made a noncommittal noise, swinging her club between her fingers as she walked back to the cart. “You’re up.”
Not quite yet, but you bend over a few more times and I will be.
“Alex? Something on your mind? Something…distracting you?”
“No. Just thinking what I need to do to get the job done.” He approached the tee then remembered he didn’t have anything to hit off. “I don’t have anything to use.”
“Oh. Shame. Guess you’ll have to forfeit the game then. No orgasm for you.”
He snorted. She wasn’t going to best him so easily. “I don’t think so.” He set up, focusing on where he needed to place the ball. A soft clink sounded as the face of his club struck. He watched the ball sail high and fast before it plunked down in the fairway several yards in front of Elena’s ball.
Pleased with his effort, he palmed his club and strode casually to where Elena waited. He got in her face, unafraid of the consequences of his boldness. “Handicap me all you want. I’ll still win.”
“Is that so?” One of her arched eyebrows lifted. She flipped the strap holding her clubs into the cart, letting the bag fall to the ground, the clubs scattering on the neatly clipped grass. “Then it appears as though we have a game.”
The golf cart whirred quietly away, leaving him standing there with her clubs.
Game on indeed.
Gathering her bag, he slung it over his shoulder and followed her down the path. When he arrived he dropped her bag by the cart and went to locate the exact position of his ball. She selected her club, lined up for her shot and easily hit her ball onto the green about thirteen feet from the pin. His shot would be trickier considering the fact he had way too much club for it. He’d have to choke it, but the trick was by just how much.
He made a few test swings, making adjustments he thought would help before settling in behind the ball. The ball sw
ept up into the air, banking a little farther to the left than he wanted so it landed about twenty feet from the pin on the opposite side of the green from Elena’s ball.
“Good try.” The cart whirred past again, the back empty because her clubs still lay on the fairway where she’d left them. He’d have to figure out a way to convince her they should just give up this silly game. Who was she kidding, thinking this would be an evenly matched round?
Minutes later his ball followed hers into the cup. “Looks as though we’re tied for par.”
“It’s just the first hole. Don’t get too overconfident.”
“I’m not. You’re just making it too easy.”
They played the next two holes without speaking, which suited Alex. The quiet allowed him to focus on only having one club while she played with her pick. The strap from the bag was starting to chafe his skin too, the sweat causing a burn he had to work to ignore. He wouldn’t ask for some protective padding either because damn if he wasn’t going to carry the bag for the whole game without complaint. No way was he going to allow his discomfort to show.
As he stepped beside her parked cart she gestured to him with a bottle of water. “Drink this.”
“I’m not thirsty.”
“It wasn’t a request.” He reluctantly took the bottle from her, chugging the contents in a few quick swallows just to make her happy. “Want this back or do I have to carry it too?”
She reached forward, wiping the trail of water spilling from the corner of his mouth with an almost reverent touch. Then she took the bottle from him, pulled out another full bottle and slid it into a holder tucked on the side of her bag. “When you finish this one I’ll give you another. And another. You will stay hydrated, understand? If I see so much as one drop of water left over, you’ll find yourself at the mercy of my best paddle. One that would leave you with marks for days and unable to sit for nearly a week.”
He debated her threat as he walked to the next hole. The idea didn’t appall him, which was a huge step forward. A few months ago the thought would have sent a surge of rage through him. Now the idea of Elena hitting him in such a way excited him.
