Second Base

by Raven ShadowHawk

  A warm gust of rum-scented air whispered over her cheek and then his lips touched her closed eyelids one by one. Her nose. Her cheeks. Her mouth. A chaste touch, barely a brush of his lips against hers, but it lit a fire in Karen’s body that burned hotter and brighter with every passing second.

  She jumped as cool fingers traced the neckline of her blouse. One finger trailed down, dipping briefly into the valley of her bra, before returning and fiddling with her buttons. One popped open. Then another. Another.

  Soon her blouse lay open and Karen shivered in the sudden rush of cool air against her chest and stomach.

  A groan from Sith pulled her eyes open. ‘You’re stunning,’ he murmured.

  Saying ‘thank you’ didn’t seem right. Saying nothing felt rude. Karen settled on a compromise. ‘Then what?’

  Sith’s smile brightened. He lowered his head and nuzzled his face against her breasts, flicking out his tongue to lick the tops of each one. When she moaned, he dipped one hand into the left cup and pinched the solid nub of her erect nipple.

  She gasped and bucked her hips against him, straining for more. Needing more.

  This was so much easier. Losing herself in the strength of his control. No need to think. No need to analyse.

  ‘Go on.’ She begged shamelessly, giving herself over to him with the single desperate plea.

  He wasn’t slow to accept.

  His hands returned to her shoulders, pressing down. Pliant and obedient she slid down his legs until her face reached his waistband. Slowly, he unfastened his belt.

  Karen watched the hypnotic display with half-lidded eyes. When he tucked the buckle into his fist and wound the strap around his hand, she had a brief moment to wonder what came next, before the flat end of the belt slapped against her arse. The stinging impact made her gasp and lower her head, instinctively flicking out her tongue to lick the hot shaft that normally rose to meet her.

  It wasn’t there. Just the unfastened buttons of Sith’s jeans and his gentle hands against her head.

  He was clearly erect. Bulging, straining for release from the tightness of those jeans. A single button remained. One tiny nub of metal hiding his underwear from view.

  He pushed down on her head. ‘Go on. You know what to do.’

  The words were so familiar. The voice soft and commanding. So much like Dan’s and yet not.

  Not. He’s not Dan.

  The moment the thought materialised, Karen rushed back into herself. The giddy rush of losing herself leaked away and she stared at Sith, watching his chest rise and fall.

  He licked his lips. ‘What are you waiting for?’

  She jerked upright. ‘No.’

  He froze.

  ‘You’re not Dan. You’re not my master. I can’t do this with you.’

  Sith immediately dropped the belt. He scrabbled into a stable sitting position and fastened the top buttons of his jeans. ‘But I thought—didn’t you want—’

  ‘I did.’ She raised a hand to stop him digging a verbal pit neither of them would be able to escape. ‘But I can’t. I’m sorry.’

  ‘You wanted to submit. You said it. I thought that’s what you wanted.’

  ‘It is. I do.’

  He ruffled his hand through his hair and shrugged. ‘Then what?’

  ‘I want to submit to Dan,’ she said. ‘It’s not about submission, it’s about him. It’s always been about him. I’m not a natural submissive, Sith. I don’t know how, but you knew that as soon as we met. I tried to deny it but that’s stupid. All my other relationships failed because I like to lead. But not with him; never with Dan.’

  Sith fumbled with his jeans once more, then covered himself with his hands. ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘Dan tops me in a way no one else ever could. I don’t know why, but he’s perfect. And I need that, Sith. But no on else can do it. With anyone else I want the power. It’s there. It’s in me. It’s an instinct.’

  ‘What does that mean?’

  It means I should leave. It means I should get up and leave this house before I do something really stupid.

  Instead she said, ‘Stand up.’

  He did. Slowly. Watching her face, tense all over, as though ready to bolt at any moment.

  ‘Put your arms behind your head.’

  He hesitated.

  ‘Do it.’ She hadn’t meant to snap. The order burst from her mouth with a whip-crack snap and Sith leapt to attention, as though poked with a live cattle prod. He threaded his fingers and held the back of his head. He stared at her, mouth agape, chest heaving. And it was perfect. So perfect.

  Karen’s distant yearning for something more roared forwards like a tidal surge. Her body hummed with it and the moist juncture between her legs throbbed and urged her on.

  She closed the small space between them. Touched his chest.

  His pectorals were solid beneath her fingers, defined in a way that suggested weights training and an impeccable diet. She traced her hands down his ribs and found the flat plane of his stomach. Each abdominal showed the same definition as his chest.

  With both hands she grabbed the bottom of his t-shirt and dragged it up over his head. The sleeves caught on his elbows and the neck gathered under his chin but she didn’t drag it all the way. Instead she left the fabric over his face, blocking his vision and leaving his torso utterly exposed. His arms shuddered but didn’t move.

  ‘Very good,’ she murmured.

  He sighed, the gust of his breath causing a billow in the t-shirt fabric.

  Karen kissed his chest, lathing her tongue around one tiny nipple while pinching the other. When he groaned, she switched and nibbled at the other sensitive bud of skin. His knees buckled.

  ‘This feels more natural,’ she whispered. ‘I could do this all day.’ Scraping her nails first up then down his stomach, she watched him twitch and shudder. When she unfastened his jeans and shoved them down to his knees, she saw the long line of his cock pressed against the front of his Calvin Klines.

  ‘Karen—’

  ‘No.’ She cut him off with another teasing scratch of her nails down his chest. ‘Be quiet.’

  She dropped to her knees, steadying herself with her hands on his hips. Unlike Dan’s, Sith’s belly was hard and smooth, with not the smallest wisp of hair.

  She looked lower, watching a small damp patch form on his boxers. Beneath it his cock twitched and grew, straining to reach her face. Breathing against him dragged a strangled gasp from his throat.

  ‘Oh, God,’ he murmured. ‘Yes, please.’

  Karen knew that voice. She knew the song of desperation sung by a submissive on the very brink of what they wanted most. She knew because she sang it with Dan while he teased her with the promise of an orgasm. Dangling release before her but never quite within her grasp.

  The musky aroma of Sith’s arousal filled Karen’s nose and fired every synapse in her body dedicated to sexual pleasures. When he jerked towards her, his skin brushed her nose and dragged a low whimper from them both.

  What am I doing? I can’t—what sort of person am I?

  It was wrong. All of it.

  She stood. Yanked the t-shirt back over Sith’s head. Allowed it to drop into place.

  Beneath it his eyes were closed. They popped open as the fabric left his face and he stared at her with eyes slightly glazed in the dim light.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she murmured. ‘I don’t know how many times I’m going to say that tonight, but I really am. I can’t do this either.’

  ‘Karen.’ He looked ready to beg. ‘Please.’

  ‘I can’t, Sith. This is better, but there’s still something missing.’

  The lust in his eyes dimmed. Like shutters slamming closed, his expression darkened and left something cold and angry. ‘What exactly do you want from me?’

  ‘I don’t want anything from you. It’s from Dan.’

  Chapter Sixteen

  Dan

  Dan parked the car and leaned his head against the steer
ing wheel. His mind still buzzed, reeling with the force of Cindy’s rage. He fought the urge to check over his shoulder, telling himself that she couldn’t possibly have made it here after so short a time. But it would be like her.

  Threats were all well and good, but Cindy wouldn’t be Cindy without following through. He wondered if he would ever be safe again.

  If Karen shows up perhaps.

  A glance at the house dropped his spirits even lower. No lights in the windows. No sign of movement. No . . . there was something. Someone sitting on the step by the front door.

  Scrambling from the car, Dan slammed the door and ran up the path. ‘Karen?’

  ‘No, mate. Sorry.’

  He stopped. Glared. ‘What are you doing here?’

  Pete stood and rubbed a hand through his hair. ‘I want to talk to you.’

  ‘I’ve nothing to say to you.’

  ‘Come on, Dan.’

  ‘No. It’s Karen I need to talk to, not you.’

  ‘So our friendship doesn’t mean anything?’

  Dan felt the tiniest twinge of guilt. ‘That’s not what I said.’

  ‘It feels like it. I’ve cocked up. I know that, but I’m here to fix it and I can only do that if you let me.’

  ‘What can you possibly say?’

  Pete rubbed his arms. ‘Can we go inside? It’s freezing and I’ve been sitting out here for half an hour.’

  A pause. Then a grunt. ‘Whatever.’ Dan pushed passed him and unlocked the door, stamping into the hallway. He flicked on lights as he walked, finally entering the living room and flopping into an armchair.

  Pete followed a few paces after, loitering in the doorway. ‘Can I sit?’

  ‘Sure. Why not.’

  He perched on the arm of the sofa and fiddled with his fingers.

  In the light, faint discolouration showed around his jaw. Almost a mirror for Dan’s but nowhere near as broad and angry as Robert’s handy work. The guilt worming through Dan’s insides became an insistent burrowing.

  ‘Do you want some peas, or something? For your face?’

  Pete touched his jaw, winced, then shrugged. ‘I’m fine.’

  ‘You’ll bruise.’

  ‘It’ll make me look butch. I don’t mind. But then, it probably won’t; you hit like a girl.’

  ‘Tell Karen that.’

  Pete smirked. ‘She’d give me a matching bruise on the other side.’

  Silence. Then, ‘What do you want, Pete?’

  ‘To fix this. We’ve been friends for years. Something like this can’t just stomp on all that time. I thought we were stronger than that.’

  ‘I thought so too.’

  ‘What I did—I’ll never forgive myself for that. It was the stupidest thing I’ve ever done. Karen isn’t—she deserves better than some creep mauling her while drunk. I still can’t believe it. I don’t know how far it would have gone either, if Robert hadn’t turned up. I might have done something really awful.’

  ‘As opposed to kinda awful?’

  ‘I’m trying to apologise, here.’

  ‘You’re doing a shitty job.’

  ‘I’m sorry! I know it’s no excuse, but I really feel for her. I think I love her.’

  Dan surged to his feet. ‘Get out.’

  ‘No, wait—’

  ‘Out. Get the fuck out.’ Dan dashed forward, grabbing Pete by the scruff of his jacket. The other man struggled, but Dan put everything he had into pushing, driving him towards the front door.

  Just before the step Pete dug in his heels and leaned back. Dan stumbled. It felt like shoving a brick wall.

  ‘Jesus, what do you weigh?’

  ‘I don’t know. Twelve stone?’

  ‘More like forty.’

  ‘Screw you; I’m just not a weak-arse fairy like you. I haul sheets of glass and metal siding for a living. Get off me.’

  ‘Get out of my house.’

  Pete sighed and leaned back again, a quick nudge but it sent Dan sprawling. He crashed into the wall and bumped twice before able to stop himself. Growling, he launched forward again, a rugby tackle around Pete’s middle that took them both outside. They landed hard, rolling off the path and on to the gravel beneath the window. As he flailed, Dan’s legs tangled in the ivy crawling up the arching trellis and dragged it down.

  Beneath him, Pete scrambled and squirmed. ‘I’m not leaving until I’ve said my piece.’

  ‘I don’t want to hear anything you have to say.’ A hand clamped over his face and pushed, twisting until he had no choice but to release his grip on Pete’s waist. The other man followed him over, flipping them until Dan lay crushed beneath, gravel crunching under his head.

  ‘You should. No one else is going to call you out on your shit and it’s going to leave both of you unhappy. Especially Karen.’

  ‘Stop talking about Karen,’ Dan roared, lashing out with his fist. His knuckles caught a glancing blow on Pete’s jaw before thudding off his collar bone. Heaving up with one knee, he rolled them again, landing on top. He pressed down with both hands on the other man’s shoulders. ‘After what you did you have no right.’

  ‘And you do? I came to say sorry, but you still won’t admit you’re being a shitty Dom, let alone a shitty boyfriend.’

  ‘I’m a great Dom!’

  Another heave from Pete. Dan yelped as he went sailing over Pete’s head, crashing into the big bin on the far side of the gravel. Thankfully full, it rocked on its wheels a few times before stabilising. When he stood, it rocked a few more times, forcing him to steady it. Then he rushed at Pete again.

  It was a clumsy attack. Fighting had never been a strong point of Dan’s, but this seemed like a good point to try. With rage filling every limb, burning through his very marrow, he wanted nothing more than to expend it on something. Anything. Anyone.

  This time Pete didn’t take the tackle but lurched to the side. Dan stumbled forward and hit the remnants of the trellis, tangling his legs in it and tumbling over.

  ‘Doms are supposed to look after their subs.’

  ‘What the hell do you know about it?’

  ‘Enough to know you’re not doing your job. Giving her what she needs so long as it tallies with what you want isn’t enough. What about what she wants?’

  Dan thrust out his legs, hooking Pete around the knees. When the other man fell, he scrambled up and sat on his stomach, knees pinning his arms to the floor. ‘I always give her what she wants.’

  ‘Including me?’

  Dan froze, hand pulled back for another punch. ‘What?’

  ‘You always give her what she wants, was that me too? Did she ask you for me?’

  ‘You’re missing the point. She asked for a sub, so I gave her a sub.’

  Pete jerked up with his hips and heaved his arms off the gravel. Wobbling, Dan had no balance left to counter when his friend pushed him back again. He hit the gravel hard and lay there panting.

  ‘I’m not a sub, Dan. I’m just a guy who got curious about what his friend was up to. I don’t like pain and it bugs me not to be able to use my hands when I want.’

  ‘But you said—’

  ‘Jesus, when will you stop making excuses? Man the fuck up.’

  Dan sat straight. A great weariness trickled through his body but he made one last attempt, rolling on to his knees for another tackle. This time Pete didn’t even pretend to fight. Dan reeled when Pete pushed him, cracking his head against the gravel. When he tried to get up, he couldn’t: Pete sat on him.

  Something cold and soft squished beneath his shoulder. ‘You have no right—’ he began.

  ‘Shut up. Hear what I’m saying. When your sub asked for a sub of her own you gave her your best friend, so you didn’t have to watch her choose another man. You thought I was safe and easy, a quick fix to ‘scratch an itch.’ But it’s more than that, isn’t it? Karen needs this. And you don’t want to give it to her.’

  He stared into Pete’s narrowed eyes, thrown into shadow by the bulk of the house. Yell
ow light streamed through the window and lit the ground around them.

  Then the door to the neighbouring house opened. ‘Hey, you two want to take this little scrap somewhere else? My children are trying to sleep; it’s a school night.’

  ‘Fuck off,’ Dan snapped, a split second before Pete cried, ‘Bite me, lady!’

  The woman huffed and gasped. ‘I’m only saying keep it down.’ She slammed the door.

  Alone again, Dan glared at his friend. He tried to move, but it cost Pete nothing to hold him in place. More squishiness spread beneath his shoulder and back.

  Oh, crap.

  ‘Get off,’ he muttered. A horrid smell teased his nostrils.

  ‘Are you going to listen?’

  ‘I’m lying in cat shit, you stupid fucker. Get off me.’

  Pete stopped pushing. ‘What?’

  ‘Can’t you smell it? It’s all over this bloody gravel. The woman next door has six of the little shit-machines scratching at the door all hours of the night. You’re probably kneeling in it.’

  Pete sniffed. Wrinkled his nose. ‘Ah, hell’s balls.’ He stood slowly, inspecting his jeans. Sure enough a smear of something brown and stinking coloured his knees and shin. ‘And my washing machine is broken too.’

  Dan sat up, tugging at his coat. More of the brown smears dotted his back and shoulders. He groaned. ‘I liked this jacket. One of the few things Mum bought me that doesn’t look like it belongs to Hugh Hefner.’ Still muttering he tugged the jacket off completely, rolled it into a ball and shoved it into the black bin.

  Legs apart, hands held off his body, Pete watched him warily. ‘Can we talk now? Like grown ups?’

  Dan sighed. ‘Not until you get cleaned up.’

  In the bedroom, Dan fished through drawers while Pete waited behind him, shuffling from foot to foot in his boxers. ‘I don’t know how much I have that will fit you.’

  ‘Sure,’ Pete muttered. ‘Rub it in, slim.’

  ‘No, I mean you’ve got more muscle than me. Most of my trousers will be tight on you. Here.’ He dragged an old pair of grey joggers from the bottom of the drawer. ‘Try those.’

  Sure enough, as Pete wiggled his way into the joggers, he struggled to get the waistband over his thighs. ‘Skinny little runt, aren’t you?’