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The Master Page 17


  “Are you mad? I’ll do no such thing!”

  “I think you might just have to. You see, once this becomes public knowledge—and it will if you don’t cooperate—Bishop HLS will fire you anyway. Gross misconduct certainly, possible fraud too, which would involve the police. The scandal would ruin you. You’d stand to lose a lot more than your job.” Dylan counted on his fingers. “Your reputation, your pension, maybe even your liberty if criminal charges stick. Add to that, any chance you might have had of being reconciled with your daughter would be out the window, Tanya would never forgive you for trying to manipulate her career and ending up wrecking it. She’d be disqualified and probably banned from international competition.”

  “This had nothing to do with her!”

  “I know that, which is all the more reason for you to go quietly. You’re going to step down with immediate effect. You can say you want to spend more time on other projects, that you’ve had other offers, that you’ve decided to retire. Whatever, I don’t care, as long as you don’t rock our boat. The slightest whisper that your sudden departure is in any way connected to Jodie and the shit will hit the fan. You leave, but the sponsorship deal is to stay intact. Jodie is still retained by Bishop HLS bank, but you’re out of the picture.”

  “You bastard,” breathed George.

  He’d won. George might not want to admit that yet, but he would. And he’d do what he had to do to save his own skin.

  Dylan shrugged. “If you say so. Do we have a deal?”

  “Call that a deal? You and this little slut here can go and—”

  “Now have a care, George.” Dylan’s voice was low, deceptively soft. He had heard enough and would listen to no more, least of all insults to Jodie. Never a man given to violence, he saved his aggression for the dojang, but he was ready to make an exception for George Hartwell. “Yours is one face I don’t think I would ever get tired of slapping, but you really don’t want to add brawling in a pub to the list for your board to chew over.” Dylan narrowed his eyes as he treated George to a sardonic smile. “Best you go quietly, eh? You’ve got things you need to do.”

  Dylan stood up to allow George out of his seat. Hartwell slithered past him, muttering under his breath. His expression was nothing short of murderous. “If you think this is over…”

  “Oh, believe me, George, this is most definitely over. Run along, now.”

  * * *

  “Do you think he’ll actually do it? Resign, I mean?” Jodie perched on the edge of her bed. She looked exhausted. Happy, too, but worn out.

  Dylan lounged in the chair under the window and took a slug of the Budweiser Light he’d snagged from the minibar. “Time will tell. Whatever he decides to do though, you’re out of his clutches. You’ll be going all out tomorrow and you’re going to win. Right?”

  “Right, Sir.” She hesitated, then, “Was all that true? About Taekwondo GB not being interested in the fact that I went to a kink club?”

  Now he grinned to himself. “To be honest, I reckon the chair of the selectors would have had a throm, but old George wasn’t to know that. He was bluffing, and he lost.”

  “You were bluffing.”

  “But I was better at it and I won. There’s the difference.”

  “If taekwondo coaching doesn’t work out you could make a fortune playing poker. Would Tanya have been banned like you said?”

  “Actually, I do think that would have been a real possibility if there was even the slightest suspicion she knew what he was up to. But you and I both know she was innocent in all of it so I’m happy to leave that alone. Let’s hope Hartwell sees sense, then it can all stay buried.”

  “Yeah. I like Tanya. She deserves to get on the team.”

  “So do you. And if I was a professional gambler I’d be happy to put a bet on that. Don’t let me down.”

  “I won’t.”

  She stood up and began to remove her clothes. First her sweatshirt, then the t-shirt she wore beneath it. She reached behind her to unclasp her bra.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Isn’t it obvious?” She dropped her bra on the floor and stood before him, naked to the waist.

  Dylan suddenly lost all interest in his beer. Jodie had the most fantastic breasts he’d ever considered snapping a set of nipple clamps on. Pity he hadn’t brought any toys with him.

  He cleared his throat. “You need to get some sleep. I want you firing on all four cylinders tomorrow.”

  “We both need to relax and I know a good way to make sure of that.” She grinned at him and reached for the waistband on her leggings.

  “Hold it right there.” Dylan’s voice hardened with authority. He’d seen enough, heard enough of her sass. And she was right. They were both wound up like springs. They needed the release.

  Jodie obeyed him. When did she ever not? He considered having her drop to her knees but that seemed a waste of time right now. Instead, he unfastened his belt and slid it out of the loops in his jeans.

  Her eyes widened, but she didn’t flinch. She should, she really should. A session with his belt the night before the biggest competition of her life? So not a good idea. It was a good thing one of them was thinking straight.

  “Your hands, Jodie.”

  Clearly puzzled but ready to trust him, she extended her hands to him, wrists together. Dylan threaded the end of his belt back through the buckle to make a loop, then brought it back on itself to create a second one. He’d fashioned a pair of leather cuffs, which he slid over Jodie’s hands then he pulled on the remaining length of leather to take out any slack.

  “Okay? Not too tight?”

  “No, Sir. It’s fine.”

  “Lie down then put your hands behind your head.”

  She did as he told her, and within moments he’d tugged off his own tie and used that to secure the makeshift cuffs to the headboard.

  He stood back to admire his handiwork. Jodie lay still, her eyes closed. Her gorgeous chest moved up and down slowly as she breathed. She looked utterly content, relaxed, more at ease than he had seen her for weeks.

  Dylan allowed himself a private moment to curse Hartwell to hell and back for the stress he’d put her through, and himself for not getting to the bottom of it much earlier. He wasn’t quite sure what more he could have done, but there had to have been something. He should have been able to get Jodie to trust him enough to tell him what Hartwell was up to. Still, that was in the past now. It was the future that mattered. And the present.

  He sat on the bed beside her. She opened her eyes as he leaned over to brush his lips across hers.

  “I love you,” she murmured.

  “Right back at you.”

  “Say it,” she whispered. “I need to hear you say the words.”

  Perhaps he did too. “I love you, Jodie Price.”

  Her eyelids fluttered down again, and she smiled.

  Dylan closed his mouth around the pebbling nub of her right nipple. Jodie groaned. He’d forgotten how good that sounded. He sucked, and she added a throaty, sexy little moan into the mix. He released her nipple and admired the way it glistened, slick from his mouth and swelling before his eyes. He moved on to the other one and subjected it to the same treatment.

  Jodie arched and writhed under him, tugging against her restraints though she had no desire to be free.

  Dylan cupped both breasts and pressed them together. He imagined squeezing his cock between them, fucking her tits and leaving his jizz all over her chest.

  Maybe later. Right now, he had more urgent matters to attend to, which pretty much amounted to getting her off, then burying his cock inside her. In that order.

  He slipped his fingers under the waistband of the sweatpants she still wore.

  “I think we can be rid of these now.”

  “Yes, Sir. Please, Sir…” Jodie lifted her hips to help him pull them down, then raised each foot in turn as he slid them right off.

  “I’m not going to tie your ankles. I won’t need to be
cause you’ll spread your legs and keep them wide for me.”

  “Yes, Sir.” Obligingly, she planted her feet about a yard apart and bent her knees to afford him even better access. For good measure, Dylan grabbed a pillow and stuffed it under her hips.

  “I hope you’re not going to make a lot of noise. We don’t need security banging on the door.”

  “I’ll try, Sir.”

  “Do I need to gag you?”

  She shook her head. “No, Sir.”

  Dylan wasn’t so sure, but he’d go with it anyway. He moved his position until he was propped on one elbow between her spread thighs and he looked his fill.

  Jodie’s pussy lips were already plump and puffy, glistening with her juices. Her clit peeked out from under its hood of flesh. Dylan extended one gentle finger and peeled the hood back to reveal the delicate little knot of nerve endings. He leaned in to blow gently across the tip.

  Jodie gasped and rolled her hips from side to side, begging wordlessly.

  He used both thumbs to part the inner lips of her pussy, loving the wet sound as he did so. Jodie groaned some more, even louder now.

  “Tell me what you want, girl.”

  “I want you to fuck me, Sir.”

  “Okay. What else?”

  “Touch me. Please, I can’t wait…”

  “Please what?”

  “Please, Sir. Please, touch me. Lick me. Fuck me.”

  He would do all of those things. Eventually. Dylan leaned in again, and this time he feathered the tip of his tongue over her clit. Jodie’s hips jerked up. She thrashed around and thrust herself at him. Dylan settled more of his weight on her, his arm across her middle to help hold her in place as he drew the flat of his tongue along the length of her slit from anus to clit.

  Jodie went wild. He sat up and laid his hand on her, the pad of his thumb just skimming her clit, his fingers extended over her mound. He kept his thumb and hand perfectly still, forcing her to grind against him for the friction she craved. He allowed her to pleasure herself for a few moments, just until he knew she was seconds from coming.

  “Stop that now, Jodie. You know better than to get yourself off without permission.”

  She did, but she was panting, the exertion of remaining still almost as great as that of rubbing her horny little clit against his thumb.

  “Do you want an orgasm, Jodie? Do you think you’ve earned it?”

  She opened her eyes and there was no mistaking the anguish there. “I don’t know,” she wailed. “Please, Sir. Please. I can’t bear it any more. I’m sorry, about everything… I should have told you, about George. I know I should have—”

  “Okay, okay. Come for me, Jodie.” His tone was low, and he pressed his thumb against her clit as he spoke. He scraped it from side to side. Then, as convulsions started to rock her body, he drove three fingers deep into her pussy.

  The inner walls contracted around his digits, squeezing, pulsing. He thrust in and out as she rolled her hips and writhed against the mattress. Her eyes fluttered open, dark with her arousal, then her eyelids lowered as the sensations ebbed.

  She lay still, just the occasional shuddering aftershock causing her to tremble.

  “Was that good, Jodie?”

  She nodded. “Yes, Sir. Thank you.”

  “Worth waiting for?”

  Now she frowned. “I’m not so sure about that, Sir. I hated not being allowed to come for all those weeks. I felt sort of used. I… I don’t ever want that to happen again. Please, Sir…”

  She could always put orgasm denial on her hard limits list. In a calmer moment he might suggest that. For now, he made a mental note. Never again.

  It took him just a few seconds to get naked and stretch out alongside her on the bed. He positioned himself at her entrance.

  “I can’t be as rough with you as we’d both like. You need to be on top form tomorrow and certainly not covered in bruises.”

  Jodie’s answer was to thrust her hips up as though she might impale herself on his cock. Dylan flexed his jaw as he guided the head inside, then rocked his hips to drive his entire length into her.

  Jodie let out a strangled little scream and started to rotate her hips, squeezing her inner muscles hard around him.

  Jesus, that feels good. So tight…

  This was not going to take long. Dylan withdrew until he was almost fully out of her, then plunged forward again. He repeated the stroke, long and deep, hard and demanding. Then he altered his rhythm a little, delivered several short, jabbing thrusts. Jodie wrapped her legs around his waist as though she could hold him in place with her muscular, toned legs.

  She didn’t have to try that hard; he had no wish to go anywhere. Well, not for the next thousand years or so.

  Dylan grasped a handful of her hair and yanked hard to drag her head back. He buried his face in her exposed shoulder but resisted the urge to take her skin in his mouth. No bruises. He’d promised her.

  She groaned his name and her pussy started to convulse around him again.

  “Sir… Sir, I…”

  “Yes. Come on my cock.”

  At the same time as her inner walls contracted around him, Dylan’s balls twisted. He hurtled past the point of no return. His cock lurched, hardened. He swore as hot wetness filled her and wondered if it was possible to actually die of sexual pleasure.

  “Take me now,” he muttered under his breath.

  Chapter Eleven

  Jodie awoke the following morning from the best night’s sleep she’d had in longer than she could remember. The massive burden that had been weighing her down for the last few weeks was gone. It was as if she’d been trapped in a cloud of toxic smoke that had slowly choked the life out of her and now it was gone. Just like that. The air was pure again, fresh and filled with hope. And she had Dylan back. She’d taken a risk last night when she had told him she loved him. After everything she had put him through she wouldn’t have blamed him if he’d told her that she was too much trouble. But he hadn’t. He loved her.

  She sighed happily and snuggled into his warm body. He stirred and pulled her closer. So close that she could feel his heart beating and a boner hardening against her leg. She grinned and slid under the duvet until her face was level with his growing erection.

  “Jodie…” he groaned.

  “Shut up, Sir.” She knew she’d pay for that later, along with a lot of other things, but she didn’t care. Right now, she wanted to hear Dylan’s moans as he came in her mouth. She licked the tip and sucked him all the way in. He was fully erect now so she tightened her lips around him then slid them up and down his shaft. Her pussy grew wet and hot, but she ignored it. Her body needed to be focused on other things today, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t give Dylan a little treat. It didn’t take long for his cock to thicken. She sucked out the first drops of pre-cum then took him farther in, gripping him with her tongue.

  “Fuck, Jodie,” he growled as the first spurt of cum hit the back of her throat.

  She swallowed it all then licked his cock until it was clean. How she loved doing that for him. She kissed her way up his stomach then his chest until she reached the rough stubble on his neck and chin.

  “Mmm, thank you,” he murmured in between her kisses.

  “You’re welcome.”

  He pulled her closer and held her as she drifted peacefully in and out of sleep. Today was the biggest day of her life, but right now she was content to lie in the arms of the man she loved. There would be plenty of time for nerves later. “What time is it?” she asked eventually, not wanting to open her eyes.

  “Just gone seven-thirty.” Dylan pulled her closer then kissed the top of her head.

  She sighed. “I suppose I’d better get up.”

  “I’ve ordered breakfast to be brought to the room. You’ve got a protein feast of eggs, bacon, and baked beans. It should be here by the time you’re out of the shower.”

  “Great.” She slid out of bed and stretched.

  “Jodie?” />
  “Yeah?”

  “How are you feeling after everything that happened yesterday? Are you okay?”

  She sat back down on the edge of the mattress and ran her fingers along his arm. “Yes, honestly I am. I’m so relieved that Hartwell doesn’t have any power over me anymore. I feel invincible. I’m going to win today, you know.”

  Dylan grinned. “I don’t doubt it for a second. Now, get in that shower before I pull you back in here and fuck you so hard that you won’t be able to walk for the rest of the day.”

  “Yes, Sir.” Jodie saluted him before running to the bathroom giggling.

  Forty-five minutes later they were ready. Butterflies stormed in Jodie’s stomach as they made their way to Dylan’s car. By the time they arrived at the arena, she had grown quiet. She knew Dylan understood and she appreciated the quiet time he gave her to get into the headspace she needed to be in. She had cleared her mind of everything except for the task that lay ahead and was now mentally prepared and fully focused. Nothing was going to stop her from winning that title.

  Dylan hugged her before she headed off to get changed. “Good luck,” he whispered in her ear. “Remember, stay focused. You’ve got this.”

  The first person she saw when she walked into the bustling changing room was Tanya. Jodie gave her a nervous smile, forgetting for a moment that Tanya had no idea what had been going on with her father.

  “Hi.” Tanya grinned back and tightened her black belt. “Are you all set?”

  “Absolutely. What time’s your first match?”

  “Eleven o’clock. You?”

  Jodie slipped her trainers off then pulled her carefully folded dobok out of her bag. “Same. Fancy warming up together?”

  “That’ll be great.”

  Jodie scanned the list of competitors and frowned. “There are three girls from the current Olympic squad competing today. We’re going to have our work cut out.”

  “Yeah, I know. But we’re as good as them,” Tanya replied, lifting her hand in the air.

  Jodie grinned and high-fived her friend. “Too bloody right we are. Good luck.”