Offside

by Bianca Sommerland

  Casey was still crying. People were gathering around them. Panic clawed at Becky’s chest, but she knew she couldn’t let it take over. The command latched on to her racing pulse, forcing it to slow. Zach was right. She needed to calm down for her daughter.

  “Shh. You’re okay, poupée. Mommy’s got you.” Becky rocked her daughter in her arms. “You’re okay.”

  “My necklace is broke, mommy.” Casey sobbed and picked up a handful of pink beads. “It got stuck.”

  “I’ll get you a new one.” Damn it, why did I let her wear it? She could have—

  “She’s too young to be wearing something like that.” Patrick snarled as he raked his fingers through his hair. “I don’t know why you let her get all dolled up like that. Are you determined to make me look like a bad father? If she hadn’t grabbed for that stupid toy—”

  “Mister, there’s a sign reminding you to hold your kid’s hand.” An old man who had come off the escalator behind Patrick glared at him. “You weren’t. If you ask me—”

  Patrick’s face went crimson. “Nobody asked you.”

  “Is the little girl all right?”

  “Some people shouldn’t have kids.”

  All around them people were talking, looking at her, at Patrick, condemning them both. Becky rose shakily, cradling Casey in her arms, using one hand to cover her daughter’s ear, not wanting her to hear all the things she wished she could say. A solid grip on her shoulder led her away. She found herself sitting in a small room, aware of nothing but her daughter’s tiny hand in hers. Then she heard Casey laugh and the world snapped into place.

  “Don’t let Mommy see. She hates SpongeBob.”

  “You better eat it quick then,” Scott said.

  A crunch. Becky frowned and focused on her daughter. She had a huge SpongeBob lollipop in her hand, staining her lips yellow. A few blinks and Becky made out Scott and Zach, standing on either side of them. A woman in a crisp white uniform stood a few feet away, holding a bottle of water. She was staring at the men with pure worship in her eyes.

  “May I?” Zach took the bottle and uncapped it. Then he knelt in front of Becky while Scott distracted Casey with a bag of gummy bears. “Take a few sips, then pull yourself together. Your mother looks like she wants to kill your husband.”

  My husband? Becky glanced over at her mother, who had Patrick backed into the corner. Mrs. Dubois, Patrick’s mother, lingered close behind, wringing her hands. Becky took a few gulps of water, then shook her head and laughed. “We’re divorced.”

  “I got the impression you were a smart woman.” Zach grinned. “But that’s beside the point. He’s the little girl’s father. She had a bad scare, and she needs to know it was an accident.”

  It’s always “an accident” with him. Becky gritted her teeth, then cleared her throat. “Mom, remember what you said?”

  “I was wrong.” Her mother huffed and took a step back. “What was so important that you had to take that call not even five minutes after you were with your daughter?”

  “That’s none of your business.” Patrick squared his shoulders. “Not that it matters. She’s not going to want to come with me now.”

  “I’m okay, Daddy.” Casey wiggled out of Becky’s arms and smiled at her father. “We didn’t miss our plane, did we?”

  “Not yet.” Checking his watch again, Patrick sighed. “If you still want to go, we better make it quick. And for fuck’s sake, hold your grandmother’s hand. We’ve had enough drama.”

  “Patrick—” Mrs. Dubois pressed her hands to her pale cheeks “—please don’t be like that.”

  All the muscles in Becky’s body turned to steel as she stood. Casey was staring at her, looking for guidance. And damn it, as much as it killed her to hand her daughter off to a man she hated more than she’d ever thought herself capable of hating anyone, she would be strong for her daughter.

  “Patrick, things happen. Casey’s been looking forward to spending time with you. Right, poupée?”

  Casey gave a hesitant nod.

  “There you go. Give me a call when you land.” Becky stepped past Zach, somehow feeling stronger with him behind her. She hardly knew the man, but he’d saved her daughter. Said exactly what she’d needed to hear to pull herself together. She gave her daughter more hugs and kisses. Managed a big smile for her brave little girl as Casey approached her father. “Do what Daddy said. Hold on to Nanny’s hand.”

  “I will.” Casey hiked up her chin, her loose curls slipping over her shoulder as she glanced back at Zach. “Thank you for saving me from the escalator, Mr. Pearce.”

  He grinned and reached out to tap her nose with his finger. “You don’t need to call me ‘Mr.’, angel-face. And I’m just happy I got there in time. Take care of yourself, okay?”

  Patrick made a rough sound in his throat, gesturing impatiently as he headed toward the door. “Come on, Casey.”

  Mrs. Dubois followed him, holding tight to Casey’s hand while awkwardly fumbling in her purse. She pulled out a flattened croissant and passed it to Casey, bending down to whisper something before breaking into a mock run to catch up to Patrick’s long strides.

  “Fucking douche bag,” Scott mumbled under his breath. He stuffed his hands in the pockets of his jeans, then ducked his head at Zach’s dirty look. He turned to Becky’s mother. “Sorry, Mrs. Bower.”

  Her mother winked at him. “That’s quite all right. He is a douche bag.” She latched on to his arm. “We haven’t been properly introduced—which doesn’t surprise me. You’re Scott Demyan. My daughter’s told me so much about you.”

  Scott arched a brow at Becky. “Really? Anything good?”

  “Not if she can help it.”

  “Mother!” Becky dropped her head back, whispering a prayer as her mother cajoled Scott and Zach into walking them out to the car. Erin Bower was loyal to her husband, but she’d always been a bit of a flirt. Becky didn’t know how her father put up with it.

  I wouldn’t.

  Past the doors exiting the airport, the summer sun glared down and the morning air became humid and sticky. Zach walked beside her, not saying a word, but somehow seeming completely aware of her. He slipped on a pair of aviator Ray-Bans, hiding eyes that were a startling pale green, the inner iris like leaves in the fall before they faded to yellow, circled by the darker shade of evergreens. She’d seen him in pictures and on TV often enough to avoid staring the first time she’d interviewed him, but the sunglasses were a welcome relief now that she wasn’t distracted by her daughter.

  Sunglasses! Damn it! Becky stopped and dug into her purse. She pulled out Casey’s pink-framed glasses. “I’ll be right back.”

  “Rebecca.” Zach caught her wrist before she could rush back inside. His firm tone made her knees quiver, and she had to fight the urge to kneel gracefully before him, to offer surrender in a way she hadn’t in far too long. “Yes, Sir” was on the tip of her tongue. His grip on her wrist was as secure as a shackle, slightly roughened with callouses which reminded her of supple leather. “You’ve said your goodbyes. Going back will make it harder.”

  “I know, but . . .” Becky hauled in a rough breath and took a big step back to get away from the effect he had on her. His grip slipped from her wrist to her hand, giving her the choice to retreat even farther. A choice she didn’t want. But she never submitted outside of a club—well, almost never. And she certainly didn’t blindly obey when it came to her daughter.

  Not that he expects me to.

  “Casey gets very whiny when the sun hurts her eyes. Patrick can’t stand it when she whines and—”

  Zach nodded slowly. “Well, you’re her mother. You know what’s best. But I think it’s a bad idea.”

  It was a bad idea. Casey had seemed okay when she left, but would she be if she saw Becky again? “You’re right, damn it. Sorry, I’m just not used to this.”

  “Believe me, I understand. My sister, Tracy, was like that the first few times she had to let my nephew visit his father, and he
’s a decent guy. Just really young. After he graduated high school, he got a good job—gave her more than he had to because he wanted to prove he could be a good father. But Tracy had a hard time leaving her baby with anyone and it took a court order for her to finally let him see his son.”

  “I can’t blame her. If a full-grown man can’t be responsible with a child, how can a teenage boy manage?”

  “The same way a teenage girl can, I imagine.” The edges of his lips twitched as her face heated. “Kev has two amazing parents. And he’s a great kid. My sister is fine leaving him with his dad now. They’ve learned how to get along, even though they can’t be together.”

  If only it were that simple. “Tracy trusts Kev’s father?”

  “After ten years? I certainly hope so.”

  “Then it’s not the same.” Becky’s gaze followed a plane rising into the sky. Not Casey’s plane. Not yet. But soon. She hugged herself. “I can’t trust Patrick.”

  Zach slid his hand to the nape of her neck, massaging the tense muscles, speaking quietly. “But the courts granted him visitation rights?”

  “Only supervised.” Becky found herself leaning against Zach’s side, his touch alone bringing her to a peaceful place. There was something about him that had her letting down the guards she erected with most men. Probably had something to do with the fact that he was gay. She let out a deep sigh. “His mother has to be with them for the whole visit.”

  “Do you trust her?”

  She nodded without hesitation. Mrs. Dubois has always been great with Casey.

  “Then try to focus on that. Take some time for yourself while she’s away.”

  For a split second, she considered going to the club Dean Richter owned. Maybe she could find a Dom who could give her the release she craved, who could give her the illusion of freedom. Freedom from all the pressure closing in on her from all sides every single day. Not from her family; they were wonderful. But quitting her job, moving, starting over . . . the list of things she had to take care of was endless.

  Zach could do that. He goes to the club.

  Looking for men. But there were other Doms.

  “Maybe I will.” She took a deep, bracing breath as they met her mom and Scott by the car. Scott was chatting away with her mother, slouched with his back against the driver’s side door. In a tight white T-shirt and ripped jeans, he played the part of any woman’s perfect wet dream.

  My perfect wet dream. Ten years ago, when I was young and stupid.

  His lips slanted into a half-smile as she stepped up to her mother’s side. “Your mom says you haven’t been out in a while, so I was thinking you and me could catch a movie or something.” The subtle drop in his tone implied the “or something” was more likely. “What do you say?”

  Finally, a chance for my very own notch on your belt! Every time she was around Scott, she found the smartass she’d been as a teen coming out. But he was cutting back on the sleaze. So she’d be polite. “Dean’s going to the club tonight, so I need to stay with Silver and my brother. Maybe some other time?”

  “Bower’s a little too old to have his big sister babysitting him.” Scott hooked his thumbs in his pockets. “One night won’t hurt.”

  Becky frowned. “He just had surgery. And Silver’s on bed rest.”

  Her mother nudged her. “I’ll be there, ma bichette. It will do you some good to get out.”

  Not with him. Becky chewed at the inside of her cheek. Her mother had her trapped. “I guess—”

  “Naw, I get it.” Scott shook his head, rolling his shoulders as he backed away. “If you change your mind, I’m sure my cell number’s in that big portfolio you’ve got on me.”

  “Scott.” Zach’s eyes narrowed. Caution edged his tone.

  Scott rolled his eyes. “I’ll wait for you by the car, Zach. Mrs. Bower, it was a pleasure to meet you.”

  “Likewise.” Her mother smiled sweetly at Scott. “You should come by for dinner some time. I’m sure Landon would like to see you.”

  “Ah . . . I’m not so sure about that, but I’ll keep it in mind.”

  After Scott walked away, Zach opened his mouth, his eyes widening slightly as her mother threw her arms around him. Becky’s cheeks blazed as she struggled to find a way to explain her mother’s odd behavior.

  “I will never forget what you did for my granddaughter. Whether or not Scott comes, you must promise you will before I head back to Gaspe.”

  “I would love to, ma’am.” He let her mother pull him down to kiss each of his cheeks, then gently hugged her. “Enjoy the rest of your day, ladies.”

  Once the men were gone, Becky climbed into the car, inhaling deeply before she glanced over at her mother, who looked much too pleased with herself. Becky thought she’d gotten past being embarrassed by her mother’s matchmaking hobby, but apparently not.

  “Mom, you’ve got to stop—”

  “You know, I really don’t understand why you and your brother have a problem with Scott. He’s such a nice boy.” Mom shook her head and clucked her tongue. “But if you aren’t interested in him—which I find hard to believe—you should definitely go out with Zach. You were quite friendly with him.”

  Becky smirked. “You know what? You’re right. I think Zach would be perfect for me.”

  “I’m glad you agree.”

  “He’s easy to talk to, and I won’t ever have to worry about him pushing for more than friendship.”

  Her mother’s brow shot up. “And why is that?”

  “He doesn’t play for my team.”

  “He certainly does! And even if he didn’t, that’s a silly reason not to . . .” A blush rose high on her mother’s cheeks. “Oh.”

  “You still want him to come over?”

  “Why wouldn’t I?”

  “Because Dad . . .” She hated to say that her father was a little homophobic, but with the stiff way he’d been acting toward Dean ever since he’d found him in bed with Landon, there was no denying it. Her father was a wonderful man, but some of his beliefs were very old-fashioned. “I don’t want things to be uncomfortable.”

  “They won’t be.” The determination in her mother’s tone convinced her. Becky grinned. Mom knew how to handle Dad. But that being settled left her mother free to latch on to the original topic. “So, about Scott . . .”

  * * * *

  Zach stood in the doorway of the bedroom turned gym of his condo, watching Scott on the weight bench, muscles straining as he lowered 120kg worth of weights to his chest. He lifted them slowly, fit enough to handle several reps with good form, but doing it without a spotter was still stupid. Moving quietly across the room, Zach observed the way Scott’s jaw tensed with the next rep. His cock stirred as his gaze ran over the man’s sweat-slicked chest. They’d only fucked once, but he could still recall exactly how it felt to have Scott’s solid body under him, taste the salty, slick moisture of his flesh, smell the musk of sex and the spice of his cologne.

  Scott never turned down sex, so Zach could have had him any time before leaving to visit his parents. He could have him now. But joining the long list of Scott’s lovers didn’t appeal to him. And Scott wasn’t ready to offer more. Yet.

  Not to me in any case. Zach moved swiftly to straddle Scott’s waist, curving his hands under the weight bar for extra support as Scott jerked with surprise.

  “What the fuck, man?” Scott gritted his teeth, pushing against the bar as Zach forced it down. His eyes narrowed. “Let me up.”

  “No.” The corner of Zach’s lips edged up as Scott panted. He could already feel Scott’s dick hardening against his ass. Gaining the upper hand with Scott wasn’t easy, the man wasn’t submissive—still, he reacted to being overpowered. But it wasn’t his physical response that Zach wanted. “We need to talk.”

  Beads of sweat formed on Scott’s temples. “You sure about that? Feels like you want something else. Get off me so I can get you off.”

  “What did you do while I was gone?”

&nbs
p; Scott let out a rough laugh. “You mean who did I do. Was I supposed to keep track of names and report back? Guess I forgot. Can’t even give you a number. Too many to count.”

  “Jesus, Scott.” Zach’s throat tightened. He knew Scott wasn’t bluffing. Not that he’d really expected Scott to wait for him to come back; they weren’t in any kind of relationship, but it made him feel a little sick to know Scott still let men and women use him as if he was good for nothing but a quick fuck. “You can’t keep doing this. One day—”

  “What? I’m gonna catch something?” Scott’s whole body shook as he tried again to lift the bar. “You know I’m careful.”

  “It fucks with your head.” Zach eased the weight bar onto the stand over Scott’s head. “Don’t forget, you were in my bed when you woke up screaming.”

  “Give it a break. I had a fucking nightmare.” Scott groaned as he tried to sit up, and Zach shoved him back down. “Look, I appreciate you letting me stay here since my place has been taken over by Vanek’s woman, but tone it down, okay? I didn’t get away from a Domme just to deal with a Dom. You need to play that way, go to the club. You want uncomplicated sex? I’m all over that.”

  Clearly. Zach wrapped his hands around Scott’s wrists, jerking them over his head to pin him down. “Is that what you want with Becky?”

  Baring his teeth, Scott thrust his hips up to grind his dick against Zach’s ass. “Yes.”

  Not fucking happening. The way Becky had reacted when Zach had slipped into command mode had all his protective instincts on overdrive. In her vulnerable state, Scott could do a lot of damage if he wasn’t careful. And in his current mind-set, he wouldn’t be. “She needs more.”

  “Then give it to her.” Scott rolled his eyes. “You’re fucking jealous, aren’t you? It’s obvious she wants me, but I’m no good for her.”

  “No, you’re not. Not like this.” Zach pushed away from Scott, threw his leg over the bench, then straightened. “Why would I be jealous? You’ve got absolutely nothing to offer.”

  “Nothing?” Scott sat up, grabbing his erection through his shorts. “I’ve got plenty to offer, pal.”

  “You keep telling yourself that.”