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Offside

Page 3

by Bianca Sommerland


  As Zach reached the doorway, he heard rapid steps behind him and turned just as Scott’s body slammed into his. His eyes drifted shut as Scott pressed against him, lips hovering close as he whispered, “You want me.”

  Curving his hand around the back of Scott’s neck, Zach hissed through his teeth. “Yes.”

  “Then what’s the problem?” Scott undid the top button of Zach’s jeans, tugged down his zipper, then reached down to grab his dick. His lips were feverishly hot as he kissed Zach. “I’m right here.”

  “No. You’re not.” Zach latched on to Scott’s wrist, even though his dick was throbbing with need, and roughly jerked his hand away. “We’ll talk again when you are.”

  * * * *

  Sitting in the spare room of Zach’s condo, Scott stared at his suitcase, all packed up and ready to go. His black T-shirt clung to him, already soaked through with sweat. Every inch of him felt disgusting. Tainted. Somehow, Zach had a way of reminding him of all the things he fought so hard to forget. Ever since that one fucking hot night. Sebastian Ramos, the massive defenseman the Cobras had acquired not long after signing Scott, had thrown a party and let them play with his sub. But Zach’s end goal hadn’t been the young woman.

  It had been Scott.

  “I want you.” Zach shoved him against the wall in Ramos’ basement, tearing at his clothes, the same hot mouth that had been on his dick moments before now on his neck, teeth closing on corded muscle, pain mingling with lust. Scott fisted his hands in Zach’s shirt, jerking him closer, groaning as the man kissed him. Zach’s lips tasted of the woman they’d pleasured together, of the cigar he’d smoked which had Scott growing harder every time the tip touched his lips.

  Zach always seemed so cool. So aloof. But his control seemed to have snapped as he jerked Scott’s jeans down to his knees and shoved him over the back of a sofa. There were supplies left for them by Ramos on a small table nearby. Zach found a packet of lube and used it to slick his dick before pressing the head into Scott, filling him with a smooth thrust.

  “Fuck.” Scott tore himself away from the erotic memory, then stumbled to the bathroom to jerk off. He came hard and fast, but it was shallow compared to the satisfaction he’d felt with Zach. He slumped against the bathroom sink and pressed his eyes shut. The sex had been great, but going home with Zach after had been . . . different. Scary different. He’d gotten way too comfortable. They’d lazed around in bed for hours, talking about the game, about all kinds of shit Scott didn’t usually share with anyone. Somehow his brother, Jimmy, had come up. Scott caught himself right after he admitted he was worried about his brother’s gambling addiction. He’d tried to laugh it off, but Zach was fucking perceptive. He hadn’t pushed, but he’d made it clear Scott could talk to him if he wanted to.

  Fuck that. Bile rose in his throat as he considered other things Zach would probably expect him to share. Like details from the nightmare. The echo of long, manicured nails scratching his flesh made his dick twitch. He shuddered and slammed his fist into the sink.

  “People want me. They always have.” He lifted his head and sneered at his reflection in the mirror. “I’m a man. I have needs. It’s all good.”

  It hadn’t always felt good, no matter how his body reacted. But he’d learned to deal with it in his own way. His life was made up of the game and sex. The sex didn’t mean much. The game meant everything.

  No one had ever asked more from him. Except Zach. The man saw something in him that wasn’t there. Maybe because he’d been there when Scott had woken, gasping for air as he dreamed of hands and breasts all over him, of the scent of a woman’s cunt smothering him, dreams that hadn’t plagued him in years, but for some reason came as he slept with his head on Zach’s chest.

  I wish I could give you more, man. Scott drew in a shuddery breath, turning on the faucet to splash cold water on his face. But I’ve given you all I’ve got.

  Chapter Two

  “Fuck!”

  Becky winced as she stepped into the living room, just barely evading the remote which smashed into the wall near her head. Batteries rolled across the floor, coming to a stop by her sensible black kitten-heel pumps. Her brother slumped on the sofa and buried his face in his hands. She crossed the room to shut off the replay of the playoff game where the Dartmouth Cobras had been eliminated. Landon had torn muscles in his thigh, which had kept him out of nets in the second round. His replacement had been good, but not good enough. The team would have gone farther with Landon between the pipes. All the sports analysts said so. And Landon couldn’t seem to let that go.

  His injury had happened the same night his fiancée, Silver, had gone into early labor. For the longest time, he’d been focused on Silver and his baby, but now that both were doing well, he couldn’t seem to get past failing to bring his team to the final stretch. To the Cup.

  It wasn’t his fault. He’d given everything he had to the team. But everything was never enough. Not for any player who loved the game. And her brother loved it more than anyone she’d ever known.

  “Landon . . .” Becky inched into the room, holding her breath as her brother stiffened and stared out the window, past the crutches propped on the couch cushion beside him. “Don’t do this to yourself.”

  “Do what? Face the fact that I failed my team?”

  Becky felt a presence behind her and stepped aside as Tim, Dean’s brother and the head coach of the Dartmouth Cobras, stepped into the room.

  “Get over yourself, Bower. Making it as far as we did was a long shot.” Tim braced his hands on the side of the sofa, his gaze fixed on her brother until he finally looked up. “We wouldn’t have gotten there without you.”

  Landon fisted his hand over the brace on his leg. “I’ll be useless for months. I can’t do anything for the team.”

  “Bullshit.” Tim rested one knee on the sofa and grabbed Landon’s shoulder. He spoke through his teeth. “You can work on getting better.”

  Becky backed out of the room, smiling at Dean as he rubbed her back before joining Landon and Tim on the sofa. He leaned close to Landon, speaking low. She didn’t know if the two were lovers. She didn’t want to know. All that mattered was Dean was there for her brother. And so was Tim.

  There wasn’t much more she could add, but there was someone else that might need her now. Someone who would never ask for anyone’s help.

  Pretty messed up that we’ve got something in common.

  Becky made her way up the stairs, quietly, in case Silver was sleeping. She poked her head into the bedroom, grinning as Silver gasped and hid her laptop under the comforter.

  “You’re supposed to be relaxing.” Becky slipped into the room and perched on the end of the bed. Not many would feel sorry for Silver, not with her opulent surroundings. A 50-inch TV on the wall. Egyptian sheets, and a thick quilt in pastels made by Dean’s mother to keep her warm. Magazines and books pre-release for her to read. The whole world at her fingertips.

  But she was trapped in that bed. Doing her best to care for a baby who meant more than a brand new life. This baby was everything Landon had lost when his first child had been stillborn. Everything Silver did was monitored. Judged.

  Must be exhausting.

  “Please don’t tell Landon.” Silver pulled the quilt up to her chin, eyes already tearing. “I’m trying not to stress, but I’m going insane in here. The doctor said I can keep working, but neither Landon or Dean are willing to take any chances. I feel useless. I never thought being pregnant would be like this.”

  “It isn’t usually.” Becky reached out and took Silver’s hand. It was hard to put Landon’s feelings aside, but Silver was carrying a little niece or nephew Becky would love no matter what. Which made it easier to come to Silver as a mother. “Men can be impossible when you’re pregnant. I didn’t have to deal with it when I was pregnant with Casey—Patrick was always pretty detached. But I saw how Landon was when she was pregnant. With what happened, I’m not surprised that he’d be overprotective now.”r />
  “He needs to focus on himself.” Silver hugged the comforter to her chest. “I’m okay.”

  “I know you are, sweetie.” Becky smiled and arched a brow at the laptop. “But you’re being sneaky.”

  Silver slumped back onto the pile of pillows behind her. “I know. But my dad keeps calling me. He’s cryptic—Dean wouldn’t even let me speak to him until he swore not to discuss the team—but I know something’s up. Do you know what’s going on?”

  Aside from the new owner? But if Landon or Dean had wanted Silver to know, they would have told her. The only thing was, keeping her away from her family wouldn’t make things easier. Becky couldn’t have gone through her own pregnancy without her parents. It wasn’t fair that Landon and Dean were restricting Silver’s contact with her family.

  “My father isn’t well. He needs me. And Oriana . . .” Silver frowned at her white-knuckled fists. “She’s all over ‘accepting’ Ford as our brother. I’m . . . I’m scared that he’s going to use her. And I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”

  “You’re supposed to focus on this baby.” Saying so was easy. But Becky knew very well it wasn’t that simple.

  Silver frowned at her. “You have a kid. Tell me you don’t still look out for Landon. Hell, you’ve made it obvious you don’t think I’m good enough for him.”

  Becky winced. Have I? She’d tried really hard to accept her brother’s choices, but Silver seemed so self-centered. Becky was accustomed to reading portfolios and making her own judgments, but going by Silver’s had proved her wrong again and again. Silver was nothing like how she came off in public. And it was hard to believe Landon would love a woman who was nothing but a Hollywood whore.

  Which left her with nothing but what she’d seen of Silver firsthand. Silver was young. She expected more from herself than anyone would ever ask of her. She was desperate to prove she could manage the team, but also desperate to give Landon a healthy baby. The stress of feeling so completely helpless couldn’t be good for her. And if the doctor said she was fit to work, then maybe Landon and Dean should give her something to do.

  But until then . . .

  “Would it make you feel better to go see your father?”

  A hesitant smile grazed Silver’s lips. “Maybe. I mean, he hasn’t seen me in months. The baby isn’t real to him yet. It might give him something to . . .”

  Something to live for. Becky couldn’t argue with that. What parent wouldn’t be excited about their first grandchild? And after his family losing controlling interest in the team, Anthony Delgado needed to be reminded that there was more to life than the game.

  “Tell Dean and Landon you want to see him. One of them could go with you and—”

  “And make things very uncomfortable.” Silver rolled her eyes and shook her head. “But you’re right. I’ve just been so worried about upsetting Landon that I . . . anyway, time to pull on my big girl panties and let them know what’s what. Not like they’ll spank me if they don’t approve.”

  Becky laughed with Silver, but just the mention of that kind of discipline drew an ache deep within, the kind of ache she had before she ditched the latest fad diet which restricted her to boring food. Even having a Dom give her that look before pulling her over his knee would be like that first slice of cheesecake after a calorie-restrictive diet. Damn it, she really wished she could go to the club.

  No. Not while her baby was with her father. What if he called? What if something happened? She’d never be able to forgive herself if she was out having fun while Casey . . .

  “Becky?” Silver took her hand, brow furrowed. “You look awful.”

  Blinking, Becky laughed. “Thanks.”

  Silver groaned. “I didn’t mean it like that. You came in here to check on me, and I didn’t even think to ask how you were doing. I know letting Casey go with Patrick was hard. You need a distraction.”

  So everyone keeps saying. They just didn’t get it. She’d had plenty of distractions after leaving Patrick. Being active at the local club kept her busy on the weekends when Patrick had taken Casey before. Fine, she’d only been on a lunch date with a fellow reporter when Patrick had called from the hospital, but . . . she shivered. What if she’d been at the club? With her cell phone off. She wouldn’t have a leg to stand on in court if she couldn’t be reached. Casey needed at least one responsible parent.

  There was no way she was getting into that with Silver. So she simply shrugged. “With all you’ve got planned for the Ice Girls, I have plenty to do. The press is going to be all over the cruise in a few weeks. Keeping the Cobra players involved was brilliant.”

  “Why, thank you!” Silver beamed and the pink glow of her cheeks made her even more beautiful, despite the fact that she was no longer the perfect Hollywood size 0. “I’m glad I spent so much time setting this up during the season. The mansion thing didn’t do all that well—hard to compete with Big Brother—but I have three cable companies airing the cruise. People in Canada are starved for hockey during the summer. Having the guys making appearances will bring up ratings, and you know the male fans will love seeing all those girls in bikinis.”

  Yeah. Sex on a deck. They’ll eat it up. It had been years since Becky had worn a bikini, but she didn’t miss it. Much. Fine, sometimes she wished the stretch marks would fade away, and the softness she’d gained with age could be toned down, but she was too busy being a mother and a career woman to obsess.

  It would be nice if men looked at me like they’ll look at those girls, though.

  Patrick had at first. But he’d lost interest. The Doms at the clubs were more attracted to her submissiveness than her body, which had suited her after her divorce, but still . . .

  Being lusted after as a woman would be nice. To have a man want her whether or not she was willing to kneel for him.

  What about Scott?

  Becky fingered the quilt covering Silver’s legs, glancing up once to see Silver distracted by something on her laptop. Scott’s teasing smile flickered behind her eyelids every time she blinked. The heat of his lips on hers returned, drifting down her flesh like a featherlight caress. She’d kissed Scott in defiance of Landon’s overprotective attitude, but all she’d managed to do was make herself want the man her brother warned her away from even more.

  Wanting him wasn’t enough. She knew very well she couldn’t have sex with a man who wouldn’t commit to her unless it was during a scene. Because, during a scene, at least she knew the Dom was focused on her. She’d been with a man for six years who’d never given her that kind of attention. Who hadn’t cared about her needs. No. Worse. Had mocked them when she’d finally opened up to him.

  Scott wouldn’t do that, but she couldn’t get past feeling she’d be nothing but an interchangeable body with him. They’d have hot sex, and the next day she’d see him all over another woman. And she knew she couldn’t deal with that.

  Dean tapped softly on the door and stepped in holding a tray with two bowls. He set the tray on a swiveling, hospital-style table which could be positioned over Silver’s lap. The rich scent of stewed beef rose from the bowls, and Becky’s mouth watered as she took in the thick, beef bourguignon.

  “Eat up.” Dean folded his arms over his chest, his black silk shirt clearly outlining his biceps, nicely sized even though they weren’t as big as Landon’s. Then again, very few men on the team had her brother’s build. And as the Cobras General Manager, Dean Richter didn’t really need it. But he kept as fit as his men, and between his physical strength, and the sheer power of his presence, he was quite intimidating. Even more so since his command had been directed to Becky. Along with his next words. “We’re going out.”

  Becky stared at him. Her face heated, and she looked over at Silver. “But—”

  Silver licked gravy off her spoon, letting out an appreciative moan. “This is delicious, Dean! Oh, and I think that’s a great idea. What did Landon say?”

  Dean chuckled, bending over to kiss Silver’s forehead. “He o
bviously didn’t want details, but he vaguely implied Becky should spend some time at the club.”

  “Landon suggested this?” Hell, if Dean wasn’t with Silver and her brother, Becky would be flattered. More than a little tempted. But he was and this could get unbearably awkward. “Sir, I appreciate the offer, but—”

  “You won’t play with me, pet.” Smoothing his hand over her hair, Dean gave her a level look. “But I will find someone to take you out of your head for a little bit. All your focus has been on your daughter, on your new position with the team. You need some time to let someone take care of you.”

  “Dean, I can’t—”

  “You can and you will.” Amusement sparked in his eyes. “I trust you don’t need help getting dressed?”

  All she could do was shake her head and stop herself from smacking Silver when the younger woman giggled.

  * * * *

  Not in the mood for leather and props, Zach slid onto a bench at the bar in Blades & Ice, dressed in worn jeans and a faded grey Cobra T-shirt. The BDSM club was ringing with excitement, with life, but none of the energy reached him. A heaviness settled on his chest, as though he’d lifted too much weight and didn’t even have the strength left for the roll of shame. All he could do was let it crush him.

  You knew Scott wouldn’t stay.

  Resting a hand on the motorcycle helmet he’d dropped on the seat beside him when he’d come in, Zach waved to the Domme manning the bar. Chicklet came over but paused with the whiskey bottle in her hand.

  “You sure?”

  Zach arched a brow. “Did I give you the impression I was here to play?”

  “With the right sub? I don’t see why not.” Chicklet propped her elbows on the bar, her black, partially shredded metal studded T-shirt stretching around her broad shoulders. Not big enough to make her butch, but close. Between her beer league and practicing with the whip, the woman was in excellent shape. She intimidated most—even the Doms—but not Zach. He simply respected her as the equal she was. And had come to value her opinion. “I could have told you getting mixed up with Demyan was a bad idea. Find yourself a nice, passive twink that will appreciate you. Wayne’s got the flu. His sub would love some attention.”

 

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