Sackmaster Read online

  * * * * *

  Jimmy enjoyed Coach Zanardi’s football camp more than he’d thought he would. Hedgecock, Zanardi’s hometown in west Texas, was almost as small as the town near his parents’ ranch, but he could see how folks down there could get mighty tired of all the sand and cactus.

  Once back in Savannah, he bought a piece of land along the Intracoastal Waterway and was watching his bachelor pad come together in a clearing among tall, spindly pines and dense palmettos. Meanwhile, until the house was finished enough to live in, he was hanging his hat at the same condo building where Coach lived with the new bride he had met while he was back home.

  His weight routine finished, Jimmy showered and kicked back on his sofa with a protein shake and the latest Sports Illustrated magazine. As usual this time of year, football news was sparse. Flipping through the pages quickly, he didn’t see much that interested him until his fingers stopped dead still on a centerfold ad that took his breath away.

  Emphasized with eye shadow and thick lashes too damn long to be natural, her big, cat-green eyes caught his gaze, held it like glue. He wanted to taste her lush, red lips, trace the softly angular line of her cheekbones and throat with fingers as gentle as he could make them. He imagined diamond-studded hoops swaying not only from her delicate, pink earlobes but from nipples that would be swollen from his lips, the flesh tight with the same sort of barely leashed passion he saw in her expression.

  Naked. He sensed she was completely naked though only her face, shoulders and hands showed in the ad. She held a prism-shaped bottle of some scent he imagined would drive a man insane. It sure would if he were the man and this perfect female was wearing it as he swooped down and ran his lips and tongue over her smooth, bald head.

  She was bald? Jimmy blinked then looked again, bringing the latest issue of Sports Illustrated closer. Yeah, the woman was completely hairless, her scalp as ivory-pink and smooth looking as her throat and the lush upper curves of her breasts. The fact that she had no eyebrows accentuated her long, thick eyelashes and those compelling green eyes.

  He couldn’t draw his gaze away from this exotic, erotic-looking creature, but he wondered for a moment whether he was feeling some late effect from the concussion he’d suffered during last year’s playoffs when a mad-dog offensive lineman had apparently taken offense after Jimmy had slammed him onto the turf on the previous play, in his hurry to sack the opposing quarterback.

  He could hardly believe any woman as gorgeous as the one in this ad would let anybody shave her head. But the hauntingly beautiful model obviously had—probably for money and lots of it. He wondered if maybe she’d do it again, this time for a lover’s pleasure. His pleasure?

  * * * * *

  The woman’s gaze burned into his own again the following day as Jimmy drove down a two-lane highway toward his brand-new house. This time she stared down at him from a massive billboard with those sexy eyes in the face that had haunted his dreams since the first time he saw the ad.

  He’d tried to find that face on every woman he’d seen, practically tackling a tall, slender brunette in the elevator that morning because her catlike green eyes reminded him of the woman in the ads. He’d caught Coach’s wife Susan a few minutes ago in the lobby and described their neighbor, and Susan had told him the woman’s name was Julie, and that she lived in the other unit on their floor.

  How was he going to finagle an introduction? Jimmy considered and discarded several ideas until a sudden lurch of his big, black Navigator brought him quickly back to reality. Damn, he’d managed to hit a pothole straight-on.

  No need to run off the road because of his growing obsession. He pulled onto the shoulder of the highway and continued gazing at the larger-than-life face as though he hadn’t already seared it into his memory. “You look like Julie. Or rather she looks like you.” She did. Same green eyes. Same lips, the lush lower one pouting just a little. She even had Julie’s dimpled chin.

  But the Julie who lived in his condo building had nicely arched eyebrows and glossy black hair that brushed her shoulders. Jimmy imagined watching it get shorn, seeing the woman on the billboard’s pinkish-white scalp emerge. His cock swelled painfully against the zipper of his jeans.

  No way could he deny that he got off on women with shaved heads. Not that he’d tried too hard to get over the kink, though he had managed to resist shaving any unwilling subs. He thought back to the first time he’d seen a woman getting a head shave—it had been for some charity event up in Knoxville when he was in college. He’d developed a fierce hard-on then, a lot like the one he was sporting now as he gawked at the billboard.

  He’d wanted to shave Belinda when they were married BDSM playmates, but submission had never gone that far with her. Fuck, she hadn’t submitted at all—it had all been an act. Bile rose in his throat when he remembered how she’d cheated on him at every opportunity, and there’d been lots of them last year when he was at training camp or out of town for away games. Bitch. You’re well rid of her, Jimmy my boy.

  He’d sworn off commitments after enduring the humiliation, but he wasn’t about to swear off women. Since he’d been in Savannah, he’d trimmed his horns once a week or so with the club subs at Rebels’ Roost. And he’d sort of fulfilled his fantasy a while back when Dottie, one of the subs, had let him clipper-shave her head while she gave him head. He’d pulled out of her mouth and come all over her stubbly scalp, and it had felt damn good.

  “Okay. So I have a hair fetish. Sort of.” There, he’d finally acknowledged it aloud, if only to himself. And some folks might think he was weird because of it, but there were crazier fetishes. Like getting off while your sub was encased in a latex body suit with holes for her cunt, ass and mouth. Or dripping wax on your slave’s most sensitive places. Or needing your sub to wear stilettos while you fucked her. Jimmy recalled that Dom at the club in Chicago who couldn’t make it with his sub unless she was dolled up like an infant, complete with oversized diaper. As fetishes went, Jimmy figured his was nothing he needed to worry about. Although…

  Gunning the engine, he pulled back onto the highway and headed toward his nearly finished house on the Intracoastal Waterway. As he drove, he realized he really had a thing for Julie—if that was his bald obsession’s name.

  * * * * *

  He’d looked at her as though he wanted to eat her alive. The huge, incredibly hot guy in the elevator this morning had to have been at least six feet seven or eight. Unlike ninety-nine percent of men, he was tall enough so she could wear stilettos and he’d still tower over her. Chestnut hair, shaggy and longish, framed a symmetrical face no one would mistake for feminine even if he got rid of the neatly trimmed mustache and goatee. What impressed her most about his features were those dark-brown eyes that seemed to look right through to her soul.

  He had muscles on his muscles. A pro football player with the Savannah Rebels, her neighbor, Susan Zanardi, had told her when she’d described him to her. A defensive end—whatever that was—Jimmy Bronson had been traded to the Rebels during this off-season from one of the Chicago teams. Susan should know since she was married to the Rebels’ head coach who looked young and fit enough that Julie was surprised he wasn’t a player.

  She stretched out in the tub, said Jimmy’s name out loud. The image of the big guy stayed firmly in her mind. She reached up, ran her fingers through her freshly shampooed hair, imagined it gone again as it would be as of next month.

  Yesterday Rick Hecht, her foolish agent, had practically stumbled over himself apologizing because the client, an internationally famous cosmetics manufacturer, wanted another session with her sans hair. He’d even pointed out that he’d managed to get her a huge bonus for going bald again, this time for ads touting the company’s new age-defying serum, and that he’d insisted the photo shoot be done right here in Savannah so she wouldn’t have to travel to New York City.

  She laughed out loud. Rick wouldn’t have believed her if she told him how much she’d gotten off, touching her naked sc
alp, or that she’d often fantasized about shaving herself smooth again for her own pleasure.

  Visualizing shots from the original layout that now appeared in magazines and on billboards all over the country, Julie smiled. Apparently customers liked those first images since the scent called Emerald Seduction was flying off department store shelves. She doubted those customers got turned on by the perfume as much as she had when she’d felt her silky skin beneath her fingers, from the top of her head to the tips of her scarlet-tinted toes.

  Maybe I’ll just stay bald for a while this time. Admittedly, it was a pain to don a wig every time she left her condo. Not to mention the inconvenience of having to shave her head almost every day to keep it smooth. But the incredible sensations… They offset a lot of the downside. Almost all the downside, other than the fact that her baldness would probably scare away a potential lover.

  Jimmy Bronson? She rotated the small gold hoops that dangled from her nipples, imagining it was the huge football player’s calloused fingers brushing against that sensitive flesh. Her clit swelled against its own tiny ring and made her tingle with anticipation.

  Not for her dildo, though. For the first time in a long, long time Julie wanted a flesh-and-blood cock. And she knew just whose that was. Susan had mentioned that Jimmy worked out in the gym downstairs most evenings between nine and eleven o’clock. If Julie hurried, she might run into him.

  Quickly she dried off, pulled on her workout clothes and sat in front of the mirror to dry her hair. Grinning at her image, she added a quick application of makeup. After all, the guy she wanted to seduce was probably used to women closer to his own age, which she imagined was somewhere in the mid-twenties. Best to put her best face forward and do it now, before she’d have to go bald for the new photo shoot.

  * * * * *

  He could hardly believe his luck. There, framed in the fitness center’s entryway door, was the woman who’d been lurking in his dreams.

  “Hi, I’m Julie Silver,” she said as she held out a soft hand with long, red nails Jimmy imagined raking his back while he fucked her. Nearly six feet tall in her running shoes, she was the perfect height for him. He wouldn’t have to contort his nearly six-foot-eight-inch body to match up the essential parts with those of a pocket-size lover. The way he’d had to do with his ex-wife and practically every other woman he’d ever played with.

  Those gorgeous green eyes glittered when she gave him the once-over. She made him feel like a chick magnet, and he liked it. “I’m Jimmy Bronson. Want to go out for a drink after we finish working out?” he asked her once he managed to find his voice.

  “How about going up to my place? I think I can put together something for us to nibble on.” She spoke low, soft and inviting—and smooth. Her tongue darted out and moistened lips he was already imagining would taste as sweet as honey.

  “Nibble?” He’d like to nibble on her, but he figured it might be a little too soon for that. “I usually take my food in great big bites.”

  She laughed. “I’m sure you do. But I think I’ve got what it takes to keep you from starving.”

  I’m sure you do, beautiful. And it won’t involve us going anywhere near your kitchen. “Okay. I’m game. I’m almost finished with my routine.” He forced himself to follow his list, do two more sets of bench presses while she looked on.

  Chapter Two

  Once inside her condo Jimmy’s gaze settled on the nude, life-size, full-body shot above Julie’s mantel. His mouth went slack. “You’re the woman in the ads for that perfume. I wondered when I saw you in the elevator this morning.”

  She hoped his wide-eyed look reflected anything except shock, or maybe revulsion. “Guilty. The photographer liked that pose best. It bothered him that the advertiser didn’t choose it, so he enlarged it and gave me a copy. Like it?” Hardly embarrassed by her nudity, having been in the modeling business for years, she sent up a silent prayer that he wasn’t taken aback by it—or by her in-your-face bald head.

  “Yeah. I like it. A lot. Ever since I first saw one of those perfume ads I’ve been determined to find and meet you. You’re one gorgeous woman, but you know that, don’t you?”

  She shrugged then shot him a full-fledged smile. “I’m not so sure, but I’ve heard it before. Conceit becomes an occupational hazard when you’ve been in the modeling business as long as I have. Can I get you a drink?”

  “Water, please.”

  The hot way he looked at her made her think he didn’t want anything to dull his senses. Neither did she. She pulled out two bottles of Perrier, poured some from each bottle into cut-crystal stemmed glasses. If her instincts were right, she’d want to recall every minute, too. She hoped Jimmy would like the real woman as much as he seemed to be enthralled by her images in the ads for Emerald Seduction. “Want to share some secrets?” she asked as she sat beside him, thigh to thigh.

  “Sure. I’ve got a Fathead on my bedroom wall. Nothing as classy as your portrait, but I guess you could say it’s just as narcissistic since it’s a big plastic me wearing a Rebels uniform. They sent it to me to approve after I posed for the master last month.”

  “Hmmm. Maybe I’d like one of those for my wall, too. The one in my bedroom.” Actually Julie was pretty sure she wanted Jimmy in all three dimensions, commanding her pleasure. “You know you’re pretty awesome.”

  He laid a huge hand on her thigh, squeezed. “I try. Not just on the football field, either.”

  “Show me?”

  “Oh, yeah.” For such big hands, his were gentle when he clasped hers then slid them up her bare arms. “I like silky smooth skin on a woman. And I can hardly wait to play with those cute little rings in your nipples. They are for real, aren’t they?” He glanced at the portrait again, grinned.

  “Yes sir, they’re real. Just waiting for you to play. I like big, strong men who’re into dominating their woman. You seem like a take-charge sort of guy.” She took his hand, noticed his long fingers and short, neatly trimmed nails as she laid it over her breast. The heat of his big hand made her flesh tingle. “I bet you’re into BDSM games. Am I right?”

  “Uh-huh. How’d you know?”

  “Just a feeling.” She wouldn’t mention how she’d spent a good many years in the BDSM scene with her ex. Not yet, anyway.

  “You’re right. I’m a Dom. And, beautiful lady, I’ve got a fetish I’ve recently discovered.” Gently he found her nipple beneath her clothes, tweaked the ring. “By the way, I love playing with a woman’s nipple rings.”

  A fetish? Was it possible he meant seeing her bald head in the ads turned him on? Or was that wishful thinking? Her nipple hardened under his sensuous play, and her pulse raced. “I’ve got a ring in my clit, too, but you can’t see it, the way the photographer posed me for that portrait. Tell me what you’d like to do to me, assuming you have me willing to become your obedient slave.”

  He grinned. “I’ll devour every inch of you with my hands and mouth. Delight in your satin skin, your hard little nipples and your pink, naked cunt. I’ll fuck you until neither of us can walk. And when I claim you as my slave, I’ll mark you somewhere nobody else but me will ever see.” He paused, lowered his voice to a husky whisper. “Someday if you’ll let me, I’ll shave your head again. Not for an ad this time, but for my own pleasure…and yours.”

  Her heart beat faster, and her breathing grew shallow as she imagined him doing what so far had been done to her impersonally, by strangers. Moisture pooled between her legs. She couldn’t remember ever having been so aroused, so quickly. “I want you to kiss me now, please.”

  “My pleasure.” He claimed her mouth, softly at first then harder, more insistently. His tongue teased her lips then delved inside, seeking. His arms tightened around her, pressing her nipples to the muscular wall of his chest and making them tingle. Though he hadn’t touched her below the waist, her clit hardened and her pussy gushed with anticipation.

  Then he scooped her up and carried her to her bedroom as if she weighed nothing.
“I want you naked,” he ordered when he set her down and tore off his shoes and clothes.

  Omigod. He’s huge all over. And he’s gorgeous.

  Naked, Jimmy took her breath away. Not an ounce of fat marred his massive, muscular body. Tanned, with a sprinkling of light-brown hair from neck to ankle, he had two elaborate tattoos. One was a monochrome Celtic-knot band that circled his left upper arm, the other an identical design that encircled the cleanly shaved base of his long, thick cock. The body art drew her gaze to the pulsating, blue-veined shaft and mouthwatering, plum-colored head. God, just looking at his beautiful cock made her pussy contract.

  Her mouth watered when she imagined herself taking him in her mouth, licking and sucking him like a giant, succulent lollipop. His sac hung loose, and because his crotch was shaved smooth, his testicles were plainly evident—two large oval orbs framed between hard-muscled thighs as thick as tree trunks. She couldn’t help pausing to gawk at his incredibly hot body.

  He grabbed some plastic-wrapped condoms from his wallet and tossed them on the bedside table. “Take off your clothes. Now.” His tone brooked no disobedience. The sound of his deep, authoritative voice made her juices gush as she struggled to peel down her tights and carefully slip off her Lycra workout top so she wouldn’t disturb her makeup. “Omigod, yeah. There’s nothing I like better than nibbling a satiny smooth cunt.”

  “Really? I suspect you might like nibbling a smooth scalp better.” She wanted to shock him, find out for sure if he shared her personal kink. Smiling, she slid her fingers through her hair, pretended she was about to lift off a wig.

  “What the fuck?” His eyes seemed glued to her hair, and the words came out harsh, guttural. She brought her hands to her sides, saw his disappointed look.

  “No such luck, at least right now. It’s been over a year since they shot the pictures for those ads.” Raising her hand back to her head, she stepped forward, offered him the lock from between her fingers. “I have another photo shoot scheduled for next month, though. If you want to, you can be the one to shave me for it. I doubt many men would get off doing that, but I have a feeling you might. I know I would.” Imagining him taking her hair in what she pictured as her ultimate act of submission was incredibly arousing.