Zach shrugged, picked up a croissant drizzled in chocolate, and eyed Scott, as though considering something very serious. He tore a big chunk of the croissant, leaned over the table, feeding it to Scott when his lips automatically parted. “Not sure I’ve ever heard you say that before. It’s all innocent fun. I don’t think I have anything to worry about.”
Innocent? Scott gulped down the croissant without chewing. “You’ve gotta test me?”
“You’re supposed to behave. Consider this me helping you out.”
Thanks, buddy. Scott shifted, trying to adjust his rock-hard dick without making it obvious. Becky and Zach were like a bundle of temptation, wrapped up in a great big hellish bow. He wasn’t used to teasing and flirting directed at him when he couldn’t do fuck all about it. So much for being a third wheel. The two of them seemed to have made an afternoon sport of driving him completely insane.
He took off his suit jacket, laid it neatly over the bench, then stood. Zach had brought a football from his car, so he picked it up and slapped it between his hands. “We didn’t come here just to stuff each other’s faces, did we?”
“Nope.” Zach stepped over the bench, wiping his hands on his jeans. He rolled his shoulders, and all the tight swell of muscle under his black tank top strained against the material. Scott lowered his gaze so he wouldn’t be distracted by the sight, but seeing Zach just as hard as he was beneath his jeans didn’t help much. He was on a strict no-man diet—being close to Zach made him want to fucking binge. He bit the tip of his tongue to stop himself from making a million promises, saying anything the man needed to hear to take him back, even though he knew he couldn’t keep a single one.
Zach deserved better. Had better. All those sappy songs talked about . . . about loving someone enough to want the best for them. Or some shit like that.
Scott couldn’t say he loved Zach, but he cared about him enough not to push. Not to lie. Zach was being a good friend, and Scott would take what he could get. Show the self-control everyone was demanding from him.
“So how we playing this?” Zach moved closer to Becky, running his fingers through her hair and kissing her forehead before holding his hand up for the ball. After Scott tossed it to him, he handed it to Becky. “Every man—and woman—for themselves? Make it to the tree line for a touchdown?”
“That means no passing. Which sucks.” Becky wrinkled her nose. “How about we pass back and forth. Start close, then move farther apart after each round. We switch spots every second round, and only the person the farthest from the goal can go for it. Two points each touchdown. The first to ten wins.”
Zach gave her a crooked smile. “You’ve done this before.”
“Of course. Landon and I used to play with our cousins all the time, but there were rarely enough of us for a real game. So we made one up.”
“Touch or tackle?” Scott asked, then inwardly cursed himself. Neither would do much for his restraint right now. If he got his hands on either of them . . .
Not that there were any other options. At least with touch he might be able to contain himself. A little. Maybe.
“Tackle of course.” Becky sniffed. “Just don’t crush me. You two are huge, and I didn’t have to worry about my brother hurting me when we played. He was a scrawny kid.”
“Really?” Scott laughed, trying to picture the hulking goaltender as a boy, playing a rough game of football with his older sister. “I’d love to see pics.”
“I’ll show you after I unpack.” Becky rolled her shoulders. “So are we clear? I don’t want to be sore tonight.”
Christ. Please stop talking. Scott thought of all the ways he wanted to make her sore, none of which she’d regret the next morning.
“Neither of us would ever hurt you, Becky,” Zach said softly. “Thank you for not trying to be all tough. We won’t forget we’re playing with a woman.”
Becky backed up about ten paces, letting out a light laugh as she threw the ball to Zach. It spiraled perfectly, and Zach grunted as it hit him hard in the gut, barely moving in time to catch the hard pass.
“Don’t take it too easy on me.” Becky cracked her knuckles over her head. “I won’t be taking it easy on you.”
Scott rolled his shirt sleeves up, preparing for a pass from Zach. His palms burned as the pigskin connected with them. He tossed the ball to Becky, careful to hold back, which had the pass falling short.
She groaned, snapping it out of the grass and tossing it to Zach without even looking. “That was pathetic! I didn’t know hockey players slacked off so much during the summer. Come on, Scott!”
Looking over at Zach, Scott received the next pass, retreated five paces, then shot the ball toward Becky with a bit more force. But keeping it a bit short so she could avoid it if it was too hard for her.
Swiftly catching the ball and cradling it under her arm, Becky darted forward, heading for the trees. It took seconds for him to realize what was going on. To notice that she was the farthest from the trees. To remember the rules.
Zach took just as long, and they both reached the trees steps behind Becky. Just in time to watch her slam the ball into the dirt and do a little dance. Her cheeks were flushed from the run. Her eyes sparkled. He really hadn’t pictured her as the competitive, sporty type, but there was so much he didn’t know about her.
So much he wanted to know.
“Nicely done, little doe.” Zach laughed as Becky gave him a high five. “You’ve put us ‘pros’ to shame. I think we both underestimated you.”
“Damn right, you did!” Becky laughed, twirling away from him to pick up the ball. “From what I just saw, my five-year-old daughter would put you both to shame. That kid has a wicked arm on her, and she didn’t get it from her father.”
Scott usually stayed away from kids. It was hard to see them, so full of life, after he’d gone to his niece’s funeral and watched that tiny coffin lowered into the cold earth. But for some reason, he wanted to know Becky’s kid. Wanted to see her running around in the park, playing football, laughing, looking so like Becky his heart had stuttered when he first saw her. She was part of the woman he didn’t really know. The woman who didn’t hold a recorder in his face and ask questions he didn’t want to answer. The woman who smiled so brightly at him now.
He’d never really been interested in chicks with kids. Something about it just seemed wrong. They were looking for daddies for their babies, and he couldn’t see himself taking on that role. He recalled a scene from the movie Jerry Maguire. Something about not “shoplifting the pootie from a single mother.” He had the urge to take a full five-fingered discount, but hell no. Not from Becky. His teammate’s sister. And a woman another teammate was obviously serious about. It didn’t matter how he felt about her. All he could give her was a good time.
A really good time.
No.
Becky moved a few yards away from the trees. Zach jogged to the far point. Scott hauled in a deep breath and held it in. All right. He could do this. Maybe Zach was right. Maybe it was a good test. If he could be just friends with Zach and Becky, he could do anything. The ball was tossed back and forth a few times. He focused on the game. Found himself farthest from the goal and decided to make a run for it. Dodged Zach, then Becky. Arms wrapped around his legs, and he pitched face-first into the grass. Rolled with the ball and a curvy body in his arms.
He roared out a laugh as Becky straddled him and tried to wrench the ball out of his grip. “You don’t expect me to just give it to you, do you?”
Sitting up, Becky batted her eyelashes sweetly. “What if I ask really nicely?”
He grinned. “I might consider.”
“Pretty please, Scott?” She leaned down and whispered in his ear. “I’m a very sore loser.”
With her lips so close to his cheek, her breath warming his flesh, he forgot his newfound morals. His dedication to the team or anything else. Her name crossed his lips in a breathless gasp. He stared into her eyes, one hand on her arm, holding her in
place. “Kiss me and I’ll do anything you ask.”
She bent down. Her lips brushed his. “Kiss you? Why? It wouldn’t mean anything.”
He held his breath. Flicked his tongue over her bottom lip. “We both know that’s not true.”
Setting her teeth into his bottom lip, she tugged lightly, then jerked the ball away from him. He felt her trembling, even as she pushed to her feet. “You’re right. It does mean something.” She tossed her hair over one shoulder, squaring her shoulders as she looked down at him. “It means I have the upper hand.”
From the ground, he watched her skirt away from Zach to make another touchdown. As the game continued, the sky darkened, but they continued even as the park emptied. Becky led the game with eight points. Zach had four. Scott was getting creamed with his pitiful two points. He hunched over, ignoring the raindrops hitting his cheeks, and grinned as both Becky and Zach prepared to chase him.
Long strides brought him to the tress. He whooped as the clouds burst, soaking him in an abrupt downpour. Laughing, he turned to do a little showboating.
Becky and Zach were running for the parking lot.
“Aww, come on!” Scott shook his head and sprinted after them. His shirt clung to him, the thin material completely soaked. He swiped water from his face as he met the pair by Zach’s bike. Becky had her arms crossed over her breasts and blushed as Scott grinned at her. Women in white when it rained. Sexiest thing on earth. “I take it we’re calling a draw?”
With one arm still covering her breasts—barely—Becky combed tendrils of wet hair away from her face. Stepping up to him, she snorted. “Yeah, right! I win, and that’s all there is to it!”
“I was about to make a wicked comeback!”
“Sure you were.” Becky spun around and put her hand on Zach’s shoulder, ready to mount the big motorcycle behind him. “We’ll have a rematch sometime. I suggest you practice if you ever hope to beat me.”
“Sounds good.” Scott forced a smile. Hanging out with them had been fun. Gave him something to do besides mope over how messed up his life was. He should head back to Vanek’s place. Pack up the last of his shit and see if Stephan had found him a place to live. Becky and Zach probably had plans. “Guess I’ll see you around—”
Zach used the back of his hand to swipe water from his brow. “You sure you don’t want to swing by my place for a bit? I PVRed a few episodes of The Walking Dead. Thought we could all watch it.”
Scott’s smile faltered. Another pity invite. “Becky’s not into that. And I’m sure you two—”
“I love The Walking Dead.” She pulled her T-shirt discreetly away from her chest. “Silver and I just got caught up on season three.”
“That’s cool, but—”
“Can we please discuss this somewhere dry?” Becky wrapped her arms around Zach’s waist. “I need to get out of these wet jeans.”
Zach chuckled as Scott groaned. “Speaking of which, you might be better off getting a lift from Scott.” He arched a brow at Scott. “You don’t mind, do you?”
“No.” Asshole. What was the man playing at? Sending his girlfriend with Scott, all soaking wet and sexy, was just plain stupid. Scott hadn’t done anything to earn that much trust. He held out his hand to help Becky off the bike. “You sure about this?”
“Yes.” Zach wrapped an arm around Becky’s waist, pulling her in for a kiss before letting her go. “I trust her.”
Ouch. Scott nodded, shoulders hunched as he led Becky to his car. Not only had Zach made it clear he didn’t really trust Scott, he’d added the extra uppercut that no matter what Scott did, Becky would turn him down. Arrogant fucker. Care to test that theory, pal?
Scott opened the door for Becky, then went around to the driver’s side, slouching into the seat and draping his arm over her shoulders as she shivered. “Cold?”
“Don’t.” She frowned at him and pulled his arm off her. “I shouldn’t have teased you. Things went a bit too far, and I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression.”
“You didn’t. It was all part of the game.” He smirked as he pulled out of the parking lot behind Zach. “Like you said, you’ve got the upper hand.”
“Scott, I—”
“For now.”
The windshield wipers moved fast, but the road was hardly visible, forcing traffic to a crawl. Scott lost sight of Zach, but it didn’t matter. He knew where he was going. He turned on the radio to fill the silence.
Becky hugged herself, staring out the window, as far away from him as her seatbelt would allow. “You resent me, don’t you? You want him.”
“I want you both.” He ground his teeth, back stiff. “Be honest. You already knew that. And you both have me a little fucking confused. One minute you’re all flirty, the next you’re holding me at arm’s length. Just be clear with me, Becky. I’m open to a little kinky fun if you’re interested. Not so sure the ‘just friends’ thing will work, but I’ll try if that’s all you want from me.”
“That is all I want from you, Scott.”
“You sure about that?”
She didn’t say a word. Which was all the answer he needed.
* * * *
“You were right. This was a bad idea.”
Standing in front of his dresser with a T-shirt and boxers for Becky to change into, Zach nodded slowly, disappointed, but not really surprised. “He came on to you.”
“Not really . . . he just offered . . .”
“Arms up.” Zach did his best not to grin at the way Becky’s nose wrinkled. Her hackles rose whenever he gave what could be perceived as an order outside a scene. But she never offered even a token protest. He had a feeling she secretly enjoyed it. “You may continue speaking, little doe. I just want you out of those wet clothes.”
She rolled her eyes. “Yes, Sir.”
Another reason he enjoyed blurring the lines a little between scenes and daily life. She was so well behaved as a sub he couldn’t see himself having many opportunities to discipline her, but besides that, at any given moment she could be cheeky, even a little bratty, and earn some funishment.
Which he enjoyed handing out very much.
“I don’t like your tone. Strip off those jeans and bend over the bed.” He bit back a smile as she put her hands on her hips and glared at him. “Now, pet.”
“No way! Not with Scott here!” She glanced over her shoulder, closing the door almost all the way, lowering her voice so Scott—who was hanging out in the living room—wouldn’t hear her. “I can use whatever tone I want outside the scene.”
“Absolutely.” Zach moved toward her slowly, backing her into the door until it clicked shut. He framed her jaw in his hand and brushed his lips over hers, whispering, “And I can choose to handle that however I please.”
“But Scott—”
“Would you like him here as a witness?”
Her cheeks went red. She shook her head and worried her bottom lip with her teeth.
“Five little smacks on the bottom. I’m willing to bet you’ll enjoy it.” He swept her hair over one shoulder as she bent down to peel off her wet jeans. Her panties went down with them, and his cock, which had been hard most of the day, jerked in his own damp jeans, causing a painful ache to spread into his balls. She bent over the bed, hands flat on the perfectly smooth comforter, feet shoulder-width apart. Her pussy glistened with her arousal. He stroked a finger through the moisture, humming with pleasure as she shuddered.
“It’s you that’s got me like this.” She lowered her head between her hands, drawing in a sharp breath as he stroked her soft, round bottom with one hand. “Not the idea of . . .”
He bent down to press a kiss on the soft flesh at the small of her back. “It’s both, little doe. You know I can make this good for you.”
“I don’t like pain.”
“So you’ve told me.” He ran his hands down her back, cupped her butt in his hands, then squeezed. “I think you’re afraid that, if a little arouses you, you’ll be expected to tak
e more. True?”
“I’ve tried, Sir. There isn’t much I haven’t tried, at least once.” Regret filled her tone, as though her only fear now was disappointing him. “Floggers, canes, whips. Once it started, I just closed my eyes and waited for it to end. The cane . . . I threw up after the Dom released me. It was humiliating.”
Zach forced himself to keep stroking her the same way he had before her confession. Clenched his jaw to hold in a curse. She was so determined to please she wouldn’t safeword if she thought she was giving a Dom what he wanted. Pride probably played into it as well. And she obviously hadn’t been with a Dom observant enough to catch the subtle hints that she’d had enough.
She had no scars, didn’t seem overly traumatized. It could have been so much worse.
Still, the “Doms” she’d been with didn’t deserve the title.
He pressed his lips together, not speaking until he could erase any trace of how pissed he was at what had been done to her. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he rested his forehead lightly on her back. “This is for fun, Becky. But for future notice, you will use your safeword with me when you need to. I won’t play with a sub I can’t trust.”
Turning her head, she gave him a sideways look. “Will you punish me if I don’t?”
“No.”
“Then what—?”
“Relationships need trust. We don’t have one without it.” He watched her face, the transition from hurt to understanding. He smiled when she nodded. “Good girl. We’ll work on it. I need to earn your trust, and I’ll do that by not pushing your limits any more than you can handle. By paying attention to you so it ends before you need to safeword out. But I can’t read your mind. Your comfort is more important than my pleasure. Got it?”
“Yes, Sir.” Her lips twisted. “I’m not sure I’m comfortable being spanked with Scott in the house.”
He threw his head back and laughed. “Really? How not sure are you?”
“Umm.” She groaned, burying her face into the comforter.
Offside Page 10
