Seduced by the Game (56 page)

“Careful, pet.”

“I would advise the same
to you,
Sir.
One might get the mistaken impression that you’re a
self-important alphahole rather than a respected Dom.” Her mother wouldn’t be
pleased with her language, but Madeline’s smile held as she pictured her father
cheering her on. “I respect your concern for your brother, but you’ve
overstepped.”

“You think so?” Dean
stroked his smooth jaw with his finger and thumb, then nodded slowly. “We shall
see if you still believe that tonight. Come to the club, Madeline. I can almost
guarantee you’ll reconsider.”

She agreed, careful to
hide how much it bothered her that Tim had put off seeing her so he could go to
a BDSM club and…and what, exactly? Play with a Domme? She remained in the hall
for a few minutes after Dean went into the locker room with the large
containers he’d taken from her, and tried to see Tim groveling to a statuesque
woman who’d exude more power than Madeline could ever imagine possessing.
Bound, crying out in ecstasy as a sleek goddess in leather toyed with him,
using all the erotic tools Madeline enjoyed having used on her.

What if Dean was right?
What if the needs they’d explored before they’d even known one another were the
very thing that kept their relationship from going any further? She didn’t want
Tim to change for her. She didn’t want him to change at all.

But she didn’t know him
that well, did she? She refused to lie to herself and pretend the idea of his
submitting to anyone didn’t bother her.

And that was what Dean was
counting on. She schooled her features as the door opened to reveal Tim’s
smiling face. “Hello, beautiful. You coming in? I couldn’t keep the savages
away from the food.”

She smiled back, took his
hand, and followed him into the locker room, laughing when she spotted White
tearing into a sandwich packed with pulled pork, his eyes closed in pure bliss.
There wasn’t much talk going on because most of the men were chowing down
around him.

The players moved as she
approached the table, quickly finishing their mouthfuls and thanking her before
digging into the last two containers full of macaroni and potato salads. She
inclined her head in acknowledgement and took out two soft buns to make herself
and Tim some sandwiches before there was nothing left to make them with. Across
the room, Dean watched her over a coffee mug, something in his gaze wary.

Tim’s brother seemed like
a bit of a jerk, but she had a feeling he was simply looking out for Tim. Which
she could understand to a point. She chatted with Tim about her last flight,
about the game, never giving him a hint of where her mind was at. Until she
figured things out for herself, she’d simply enjoy being near Tim. For now,
that had to be enough.

Too soon, it was time for
her to go. She packed up the Tupperware, pausing for a moment before White
could slip away to call him over. He grinned when she gently nudged his chin to
the side to study the worst of the bruises on his jaw.

“You’ve healed up nicely.”
She patted his cheek lightly, laughing at the way he ducked his head. “You
staying out of trouble?”

“Yes, Miss Madeline. Ain’t
got in a fight all week.”

“That’s good.” She lowered
her voice and leaned close. “Don’t take it too easy on the other teams though.
I don’t want Tim thinking I made you soft, and you know I’ll take the blame.”

White nodded, his
expression grave. “No, ma’am. You won’t see me going soft. Coach just said if
I’m gonna get hurt and sit in the box, it better be for a good reason.”

“I agree.” She glanced
over at Tim, who had his coat on for some reason. Had he managed to get out of
practice with the team?

His lips curved as he
stepped up beside White and squeezed the young man’s shoulder. “It’s been
snowing pretty heavily for the past hour. Would you come help me clean off Miss
Madeline’s car?”

Not only did White
enthusiastically agree to help Tim, but a few of the other players got changed
and joined them. Madeline was a little worried that they’d get a hard time for
not being out on the ice with the rest of the team, but Tim told her not to worry.
He seemed more concerned about the fact that she’d parked two blocks away than
anything.

“I’m going to arrange to
get you a spot in the Forum parking with us. This is ridiculous,” Tim said as
he used the snow brush to clear her windshield while his players shoveled away
the pile blocking the driver’s side door with gray snow from the mini-plow.
“But you don’t have to worry about feeding the whole team every time you come
down.”

“We’re grateful for any
leftovers you bring, though!” White shouted out before growling at Kral who’d
dumped snow on his head. “Hey!”

“It’s snow, White. Get it,
Snow Wh—” Kral sputtered as Perron tossed a fistful of loose powder in his
face.

Madeline bit back a laugh
and frowned at Kral as he dried his face with his sleeve. “If you don’t behave,
you won’t get any more of the food I bring. I happen to enjoy cooking, and I’ve
been craving a nice pot roast with mashed potatoes. I couldn’t
possibly
eat
it all by my lonesome.” She winked at White when he grinned. Then slipped up to
Tim to kiss his cheek. “Really, it’s my pleasure. But I would love a spot to
park inside. You have no idea how much I appreciate you all doing this for me.
I’ve had enough of shoveling snow today.”

“I’m sure the boys will
agree we’ll do anything to make sure you want to come back.” Tim set the snow
brush down on the hood of her car and pulled her into his arms. His lips were
cool and moist from the snowflakes still falling steadily over and around them,
but heated readily against hers. Firm and sweet, his kiss erased all her
doubts. He looked into her eyes as he held her, not suspecting a thing. Because
she’d given him no reason to.

And she wouldn’t. She
stuffed her hands into the front pocket of his jeans and rested her head
against his chest. “I’ll be back, Tim. Don’t you worry.”

By the time she got home,
everything Dean had told her, all her concerns, were carefully filed away in
the back of her mind. Dean had told her where the club was. He probably
expected her to walk in, take one look at Tim on his knees, and walk right back
out, ending things for good.

She couldn’t say for sure
how she’d react, but she wouldn’t set herself up for failure. She left her
habitually submissive outfits in her closet and chose something a little more
neutral. Because that’s how she had to approach this situation.

Without judgment, simply
seeing the man she was falling for. And she
was
falling for him, hard
and fast, which scared her more than anything she might see.

Because she had a feeling
it wouldn’t change a thing.

Chapter Four

Tim stood tall, more
exposed than he’d been at the club for a long time. Considering this “club” was
actually a private bimonthly gathering in a warehouse typically used for boat
storage, wearing nothing besides a pair of snug, black boxer briefs had him
fighting hard not to shiver as the Domme in the one-piece leather bodysuit
paced in front of him. And the five other male subs vying for her attention.

She was an older woman,
experienced, and well-respected in the local scene. Her hair had gone completely
white years ago and she didn’t bother coloring it. Which suited the sharp
angles of her face and her olive skin tone. Her eyes were a startling emerald
green that cut through her subs like diamond blades, leaving them with no
question as to what she expected of them. Tim had spoken to her at a few
gatherings last summer and found her to be intelligent and easygoing. A very
nice woman.

But a very tough Domme.

There were large metal
heaters set up all around the warehouse, but a draft still found its way into
the large space, making the candles on the tables near the three large fridges
flicker. No alcohol was served at this particular event since it wasn’t set up
for socializing. There was no mistaking what everyone was here for. But
Silverfalls—as the mature Domme preferred to be called—hadn’t been certain
about Tim’s place in the lineup.

“Find yourself a gentle
Domme, Tim. You’re not a masochist.”

Tim had smiled at her
before dropping his gaze. “I could be, if it pleases you, Mistress.”

She laughed, but cut it
short as she latched onto the back of his neck and hissed, “You’re not a stupid
boy. You know I’ll give you exactly what you need. Get in line.”

She left him waiting for a
while with the others as she strolled back and forth, observing them with detached
interest. He’d seen her in action before and knew she was waiting for the
weakest of them to slip up. The punishment would be swift and make the
remaining men reconsider if they were absolutely certain they wanted to play
that close to the edge.

From the corner of his
eye, Tim could already see one man shifting his weight impatiently. The heavy
scent of sweat hovered on the cool breeze from the man next to Tim. Silverfalls
continued pacing.

Around them, sounds of
play had begun. The buzzing of powerful vibrators. Light slaps on a bare ass.
The whoosh of a flogger teasing flesh. Marylyn Manson’s “User Friendly” began
playing, just loud enough to add to the ambience without drowning out the
erotic noise.

“Mistress?” The man at the
other end of the line, all done up in straps and sporting a yellow latex thong,
cleared his throat. “May I—”

Silverfalls strode up to
the man and caught him by the jaw before pressing a long red nail to his lips.
“Shh.”

Tim’s pulse pounded hard.
He’d figured that man would be the one who failed, but there was no way to
guess what Silverfalls would consider breaking her rules. Speaking apparently
wasn’t a deal breaker. The Domme looked over at him, one brow arched. He faced
forward.

She resumed pacing.

Looking wasn’t allowed, but
wasn’t a fail.

“Tim?” A familiar voice.
His eyes widened as he spotted Madeline near the entrance, moving away from the
metal racks where everyone hung their coats on the provided hangers.

He had to fight not to go
to her when he saw Dean cross the room to intercept her. Dean had that look in
his eyes, the one he gave to subs who didn’t respect the code of conduct at the
club.

Those subs never lasted
here long.

“Have you found something
more interesting than me to hold your attention, boy?” Silverfalls stopped in
front of him, blocking his view of Madeline. “Am I boring you?”

“No, Mistress.” Tim
clenched his fist, every single muscle in his body aching to move around the
Domme, to go to Madeline. He’d wanted one last night to say goodbye to this
side of himself. But now, he couldn’t even remember why it had been so
important. He couldn’t bear Madeline thinking he wanted to be with another
woman. All his depraved urges were insignificant. He shook his head. “I
apologize. I shouldn’t have come to you—I can’t do this.”

Tapping a finger on her
lips, Silverfalls glanced over her shoulder. When her gaze returned to him, her
smile was positively evil. “Are you saying ‘red,’ Tim?”

His jaw hardened. He’d
gone into the scene with clear limits. No blood, no scat, no sex. She hadn’t
gone past any of those limits. Calling red seemed…weak.

It wouldn’t be if a sub
said it to you.

But he wasn’t a sub.

You’re not a Dom either.

Which was exactly why he
wasn’t good enough for Madeline. Not yet.

“What are you trying to
prove to her, boy?” Silverfalls ran a nail down his bare chest. Goosebumps rose
on his flesh, but it felt wrong. The Domme closed the distance between them.
Her lips grazed his. “Tell me.”

“Red.” The word left his
mouth before his brain fully registered that he was done. He wasn’t sure what
that meant for him. Would he leave the lifestyle completely? Go to Madeline and
tell her he could live without dominance or submission and still make her
happy?

Damn it, he couldn’t say
for sure, but he did know he wasn’t taking another step without knowing she was
with him.

Dismissing him,
Silverfalls turned, revealing Madeline who stood a respectful distance from the
scene. The Domme let out a soft laugh. “You, my dear, are a very lucky woman.
He would have suffered under my hands, and I suspect he’d have taken it all for
you.”

“I’m not sure I understand
why, Mistress.” Madeline folded her arms over her chest, the crimson corset she
wore pushing her creamy breasts high, her feet shoulder-width apart in black
fuck-me heels. She was mouthwatering, her short leather skirt showing off her
curvy thighs, but she didn’t come off as either a Domme or a sub. She was
feminine, strong and vulnerable and absolutely perfect. And not very happy with
him. But she spoke quietly to Silverfalls. “I apologize for intruding on your
scene.”

“No need. I imagine you
were surprised to see your man waiting on me.” Silverfalls chuckled. “Make him
pay, honey. You’ll feel better.”