Page 28 of Wild Pitch
“How was I different?” Luc asked.
Taking a moment to think about it, my eyes wandered over Luc. Physically, there was no denying that Luc was the best-looking man I’d ever been with, but that should have made me more nervous about letting go with him. It was the way he’d been so vocal; he’d told me what I did right, and I never had to guess.
My eyes squeezed closed with the memory of him telling me what agood girlI was.
“I never once wondered if you were into it or if you found me attractive. You told me.”
“Praise.”
“Yeah, I think that’s what they call it,” I said. His answer to my agreement was another one of those heart-melting smiles. This beautiful man was a contradiction of hard muscle, a commanding tone, and that soft smile, and the knowledge of how much he liked to take care of me, before, after, and while we were having sex.
“Do you need the bathroom? I need to toss the condom, but then I want to show you something.”
“Yeah,” I said. Sitting up, I made my way into the bathroom. I had only glanced into the room when he gave me the initial tour, but his primary bathroom was bigger than my new apartment bedroom. I imagined he made a decent living as a pitching coach, but this was on another level.
I winced when I used the toilet, the soreness from what we had been doing all night finally setting in. And, yeah, I was cold.
Luc took his turn in the bathroom and then realized I was shivering.
“T-shirt?” he asked.
“Yes, please.”
Luc tugged me towards his bureau and pulled out a Minutemen T-shirt. He helped me slide it over my head, leaving the hem to dust along the top of my knees, longer than the dress I had worn to dinner. Shit, dinner felt like days ago.
“What did you want to show me?” I asked, watching him pull a pair of sweat shorts on; my hand reflexively reached out, tracing the V of his abdomen as it disappeared below the waistband.
“Careful, baby. We won’t make it out of the bedroom.”
“Do you like that?” I asked. I was still unsure of touching him and whether my touch would be welcomed.
Luc brought us towards the mirror and turned us so we were both facing forward.
“You’re gorgeous when decked out for a dinner date, hot as fuck spread wide on my kitchen counter, and beautiful in my T-shirt. I don’t know who made you feel like you aren’t the most beautiful woman in the room, Kylie. But they need a pair of glasses.”
Under his gaze, I felt as beautiful as he claimed I was. I blinked, taking in the image of the two of us. Luc’s athletic build was long and lean and rivaled that of some of the Minutemen’s current players. His tattoos had been unexpected, but I loved the contrast to his generally buttoned-up personality. And damn, he was playful.
At 5’5”, I was neither tall nor short, but the top of my head only met his shoulders, and he had to duck as he wrapped his arms around my waist. It felt good, safe even. And yes, it was a feeling that I had been seeking and had brought me over and under many partners, who had all left slightly disappointed.
Was I playing with fire?
“What did you want to show me?”
“Come,” he said, his tone had slipped from playful back into full-on command.
I followed a few steps behind to a second bedroom that, at first glance, looked like a regular spare bedroom. And against the back wall, there were what I initially thought were skis, crisscrossed and leaning against the wall.
“Wait, is that a St. Andrew’s Cross?” I had read about the BDSM bondage furniture but had never seen one in person.
“It is,” he said, watching me nervously.
“We’ll use that at some point?” I asked hopefully.
“It appears so,” he answered, watching me as I approached for a closer look.
“What do you know about restraints?” I asked. God, I had fantasized about this, but never had I trusted anyone enough to try it. I hadn’t even been able to talk about those fantasies with anyone.
“Here,” he said, opening a drawer with various types of ropes, cuffs, and a few other items I didn’t recognize. “I’ve had some practice, but most importantly, I can release them fast if you need me to.”
