Winning Streak (The Beasts of Baseball #4)

Zoe was right. It was very scary.

When the federal agents began gathering their things to leave, Kane walked them to the door. I heard them promise to be in contact with any new information and assure us that their tech team would be scouring Kane’s wi-fi, trying to find an IP address they could chase.

I didn’t feel confident that they would succeed.

By the time we said goodnight to Zoe, it was past midnight, and I practically staggered to Kane’s room before falling into his bed. The emotional toil of the day had sucked my energy levels dry.

After a long shower, Kane joined me, and I curled into his warmth. “I’m sorry about your leg and about you missing the road games. And about tonight’s loss and the new videos.”

He chuckled, but it sounded forced. “That’s a pretty long list of sorrys.”

“Yeah, I guess it is. But I am sorry for it all.”

With a groan, he rolled onto his side. “How sorry?”

I rolled to face him, barely able to see him in the dim light. “Very.”

His hand reached out, and his fingers pushed through my hair, closing into a fist. It hurt. It felt good. I closed my eyes as I accepted the contradiction.

In the space of a few moments, the heat in the bedroom ratcheted up a notch, and my heart began pounding harder. Even after the day we’d just experienced, I wanted him. From the way his breathing just changed, he wanted me too.

More than that, I wanted him to push me, hurt me, test the boundaries of my limits.

“You once told me there were things you wanted to do to me that I might not like.”

The fist tightened at the back of my head. “Yes.”

The fronts of our bodies were pressed together, and I felt his cock twitch as it filled with desire. For me. I shivered at the thought of him doing things that made me scream.

“Are you cold?” Kane looked concerned.

I pressed tighter against him. “No, I’m actually very warm. Hot, actually. How’s your leg?”

In the dim light, his face tightened. “It’s a bruise. My fault it’s there.”

With a finger, I traced a line down his jaw. “But I distracted you at the exact wrong moment.” The hand grew even tighter, roots pulling. The silence told me the truth, so I went on. “I want to make it up to you.”

The fingers loosened and brushed through my strands. “How?”

“I want you to do the things that I might not like to me. When you feel well enough, that is. Push me—”

I couldn’t finish because his lips were crushing mine. “You don’t know what you’re asking,” he said after he’d explored my mouth thoroughly with his tongue.

“Then tell me. No, show me. Use me. Play with me.” I paused before adding, “Make me feel things I’ve never experienced. Do you want that too?”

His erection bobbed between us.

“Dammit, Eliana,” he breathed. “You have no idea.”

I took the hand that was in my hair and lowered it to my breast. “Then I want you to, whenever you’re ready.”

His hand stayed there, his thumb brushing over my nipple until it hardened beneath his Beasts t-shirt. “I want...”

He paused and licked his lips, and I could feel the tightness, the conflict swirling around in him.

“Tell me, Kane. Tell me what you want.”

“I don’t want to scare you,” he finally admitted. “I’ve never done those things with someone I care about. I don’t want you to run away.”

My mouth went dry. What was I getting myself into? Even as worry niggled my brain, a thrill of the unknown passed through me, making me wet.

“Have you done these things with other women?”

“Yes.”

“And you’ve thought about doing them with me?”

“God, yes.”

“Tell me what you want to do.” My voice was hoarse.

His fingers tightened on my nipple. “I want to do things to your breasts.”

I tried to imagine what that might be. “What things?” My heart was beating so loudly I was sure he could feel it beneath his fingers.

“Mark them.”

I laughed softly. “You’ve already done that.”

“No.” His voice was serious. “I haven’t. Not how I want. Not with my teeth, biting and sucking. Using clamps.”

My insides throbbed, my nipples grew even harder.

“Do you have clamps here?”

“Yes.”

“Will I scream?”

“Yes.”

“Will Zoe hear me?”

“Yes.”

I didn’t care. I wanted him. Wanted this. “Let’s play.”

Without another word, Kane rolled off the bed and flipped the lights on. “Where’s your phone?”

I looked at him in confusion, then understood. “My purse. On the dresser.”

As I watched, he walked over to it, his limp a little less noticeable than before. He’d taken off the ice, but a bandage was still firmly wrapped around his thigh. It was all he wore except for his boxers.

He pulled out my phone and then grabbed his from where it lay next to his keys. He gathered his laptop and iPad and strode from the room. I didn’t even need to ask him what he was doing. I knew. He was getting rid of electronic devices so our privacy would be secured. The TV was already gone. He’d asked Paul to remove it earlier.

I was already breathing easier, with the eyes and ears of the devices removed. Then he was back, and my breath grew ragged again. He carried a glass of amber liquid in his hand and a dark look in his eyes I hadn’t seen before. He shut the door. “Take off your clothes.”

Scrambling from beneath the covers, I stripped while he walked into his enormous closet. He was back a second later with the clamps and something else.

“Remember your fifty shade book?”

I nodded.

“Yellow if you come close to your limits. Red if I need to stop immediately.” His face softened. “And I will.”

I nodded. “I trust you.”

“Tell me what you want,” he said, stepping closer to me.

I was confused. I thought I’d been pretty clear. I wanted him to do whatever he wanted to me.

“I want to know what you like, not just what you can tolerate.”

“I like everything you do to me. I like you. Can we start there?”

He reached for my hand and raised it to his lips, his tongue brushing my knuckles.

“Yes, it’s a start. You need to know that I don’t consider myself to be a dominant from a pure BDSM perspective. But I like being in control. I like being focused. I like when my partner follows my rules, but only in the bedroom. When it’s what we both want.”

I nodded. “I want.”

His pupils dilated, and he leaned down to kiss me, his teeth scraping across my bottom lip until I moaned. “An important aspect of being a good lover is wanting to give your partner as much pleasure as possible. It’s not about satisfying me. It’s about satisfying you. What do you want?”

I knew he was talking whips and floggers, stuff like that. But what I wanted went so much deeper than all that. “I want you to forgive me for being a distraction. For bringing this horror into your life. For causing you to miss the ball. To lose the game. I want you to do whatever you need to no longer feel angry with me.”

“You want to be punished?” His voice was low, primal.

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