Offside
Page 11
Slipping one finger into her slick pussy, he felt her clench around him. Her body told him what she couldn’t say out loud. He withdrew his finger. “You need to be as honest about your needs as you will be about your limits. You want me to spank you.”
She mumbled something into the mattress.
“I’m sorry?”
Arching her neck, she lifted her head. “Yes, Sir. I need your hands on me. I-I think it will be different with you.”
“You’re right.” He straightened, then gave one ass cheek a smart slap. “It will be.”
Her hips thrust back to meet the next smack. She gasped as he rubbed over the light red handprint, then moaned as he dipped two fingers into her.
Another slap. Her cunt spilled with sweet juices, and he let out a rough sound as he brought his fingers to his mouth. She quivered as he bent down to lick her pale pink folds. Spacing the smacks would make her feel them more, but adding pleasure would change the experience into something she would crave again and again. It gave him a deep sense of satisfaction to know all those negative memories would fade with each new one he gave her.
I’ll make you forget them all.
Using his fingers to stimulate her clit, he rose, hauled back, and slapped her outer thigh twice. She made a low, keening sound.
“Tell me, pet.” He pushed his fingers into her, thrusting hard, drawing her closer and closer to climax. Blood surged into the head of his cock, which swelled and heated, the bead of precum at the tip cooling in contrast. “Do you care that Scott’s in the other room?”
“Who?” She whimpered, then collapsed onto the bed as she came. She tightened around his fingers, all her muscles within undulating with the violent climax. He kept his fingers inside her as he slid her completely onto the bed, easing down beside her as he let her come down in her own sweet time.
From beyond the door, he could hear Scott going through the fridge—probably helping himself to a beer. He would be fine on his own for a little longer. Zach gently slid his fingers free, rolling on to his back as Becky turned to her side, facing him. She blushed as he sucked his fingers clean.
“I almost . . . almost feel bad for not doing anything for you. Again.” She propped her head up on her hand, giving him a curious look. “But that gets you off, doesn’t it? Tasting me. Toying with me.”
“It does.” His cock didn’t agree, but he rarely let it rule him. Having a bit of fun with company around was one thing. But when he made love to her, it would be just the two of them. “Is that enough for you?”
“Yes.” She leaned down and kissed his shoulder, her lids lowering as he cupped her cheek and drew her to him for a lazy kiss. “But sometimes I need to do more. It doesn’t have to be much.”
He smiled. “Believe me, that’s not a problem. I have a cute little maid’s uniform in mind. I’m not sure how much cleaning you’ll get done before I take you on the kitchen counter, and table, and floor, but you’ll have plenty of time to finish when I’m done with you.”
“Will you ever be?” She traced her fingers up and down the center of his chest, the edges of her lips curving just a little. “Done with me, I mean?”
From her smile, he suspected she already knew the answer. But he gave it anyway. “No.”
“Good.” She ran her finger over his bottom lip, then let out as husky laugh as he closed his lips around it. “We’re being very rude.”
Sighing, he nodded. “We are. I suppose we should see to our guest.”
“Oh, don’t be like that. You want him here as much as I do.”
“True.” His brow furrowed as he sat up, rolling his shoulders to rid himself of the tension that abruptly gathered between them. “But why? You already said this was a bad idea.”
“A moment of weakness. He does need us.” Becky quickly changed into the clothes he’d taken out for her. “That’s all there is to it.”
A lie, but not a conscious one. Zach had seen how things were between Scott and Becky for months, always push and pull, mostly on Scott’s end, but part of her was drawn to him. The part she shut off because she was a mature, responsible woman with a child, one who couldn’t involve herself in Scott’s reckless life. But there was enough between them for Becky to care about what happened to Scott.
As much as I do. No more, no less. But what if Scott changed—became the man they both knew he could be? Would the token attraction turn into something worthwhile? As a Dom, he was compelled to explore every one of his sub’s needs. But what if those needs involved another man?
Don’t worry about it now. It’s not an issue.
But it would be. And he wouldn’t make the same mistake he had in the past. Life was never cut-and-dry. Relationships didn’t have to be limited to a man and a woman. The fact that a good portion of the team proved it had been a big part of the attraction. His agent, Danielle Trey, knew his past. She’d suggested he use caution with how open he was about it but had taken it in stride when he’d come out.
“I love your non-answers.” She’d told him, snickering as she read over his latest interview. “Gets the press frothing at the mouth. That guy, Keane, already asked about extending your contract. Sweet four-year-deal. Not sure your announcement had anything to do with it, but it certainly didn’t hurt.”
“I didn’t think it would.” Zach slid on his sunglasses, sure their impromptu meeting was over. They’d meet again once she’d hashed out the details of the contract. “Give me a call when—”
“Sit down, Pearce, we’re not done. I’m happy things worked out.” Her sharkskin colored eyes narrowed. “But don’t ever do that to me again. I had to trash several endorsements I’d been working on for months because of this. Bunch of narrow-minded assholes, but that’s not the point. I don’t like surprises.”
“I understand.”
“You get involved with anyone, you better give me a call.” She waited for his nod, then continued, her tone suddenly relaxed, her way of telling him all was forgiven. “I’ve got a few things lined up. Tim Horton’s! I think you’ll like this one.”
Such an offhand way to inform him he’d given up the remnants of his private life. Zach dumped his damp clothes into the hamper, then pulled on a pair of fresh jogging pants. He lifted his gaze to Becky, who stood in front of his dresser, using his comb to smooth out her hair. She smiled at him as he grabbed a few things for Scott to change into. He planned to spend a lot of time with her over the summer, and every spare moment after. Which meant the press would be all over them. He should probably give Danielle a call.
Later.
“Ready?” He put his hand on the doorknob, then waited for Becky’s nod before opening it.
Scott eyed them as they came into the living room, his beer tipped against his lips, his throat working in long, slow swallows. Shirtless, slouched on the sofa, he was a great big bundle of sin with a lazy smile. Tiny goose bumps covered his flesh, but Zach knew the man wouldn’t cover up even if he was cold. Oozing sex was more important than comfort.
“Sorry we kept you waiting so long.” Becky moved closer to Scott, a shadow of guilt darkening her eyes as she ran a finger though his hair. “It’s still damp. Let me get you a towel.”
“I’m fine.” Scott gave Zach a crooked smile when Becky ignored him and went to fetch a towel from the bathroom. “She can’t shake that momma instinct, can she?”
“Why should she?” Zach shoved Scott’s leg off the sofa cushion and dropped down beside him, tossing the spare clothes on to his lap. “You need someone that gives a shit about you. You’re lucky she does.”
“You implying you don’t?”
“Not at all. But don’t push me where she’s concerned.”
“Whoa, buddy! I got that you’ve made a claim. I’ll ask for permission or whatever first, I promise. I’ve seen how it works at the club.” Scott’s lips curled slightly. “But if you think I’ll get on my knees first and bow to your überness like Carter does for Ramos, you’re gonna be disappointed.”
“Did I give you th
e impression that I was willing to share?” Zach took Becky’s hand when she returned, keeping her by his side, pleased that she didn’t resist. He could tell she wanted to tend to Scott, but he needed to be her Dom right now. In this mood, Scott might say—or do—something to hurt her. And it was Zach’s responsibility to keep that from happening. “More importantly, why would I even consider sharing with you?”
Scott snorted. “Do I need to spell it out?”
“Yes.”
“Fuck, man! What’s up with the games? This whole day has been leading up to a fucking wild ménage à trois. I’m just waiting for the invite.”
Becky clung to Zach’s hand, her voice strained with remorse as she faced Scott. “I don’t know how you came to that conclusion—actually, maybe I do. And if it’s my fault, I’m sorry. You two are talking like Zach has the final say in what happens, but he doesn’t. I’m not having sex with you, Scott. If that’s all you want from me, you can leave now.”
“You can’t kick me out of Zach’s—”
“Actually, she can.” Fuck, he was proud of her. Becky was no one’s doormat. Zach stroked her palm with his thumb, hoping to convey his approval. Scott was difficult to deal with on his best days. And this wasn’t one of them. But she was handling him just fine. “If she doesn’t want you here, I’ll show you the door. You know I like keeping things simple.”
Tonguing his bottom lip, Scott nodded slowly. Stood holding the clothes Zach had given him to his chest. He glanced toward the door, then toward the bathroom. “Got it. Can I get changed first?”
“Go ahead,” Zach said, torn between relief and regret. Scott could have stayed with them. Had a pleasant night with two people who’d ask nothing of him but his company. But that didn’t seem to be enough.
“Just one thing before you go.” Becky pulled her hand free, then hugged herself. “We don’t want you to leave. But if friendship isn’t what you’re after, I don’t think we have anything to offer you. I just have to ask . . .” Her eyes were sad, as though she knew there was more behind Scott’s crass behavior than his whole playboy front. “Do you really have enough friends to reject what we are offering?”
Damn him if Scott’s eyes didn’t glisten just a bit before he blinked and turned his head. Scott fisted his hands by his sides. “You two are fucking with my head. You want to be friends? Seriously? That’s it?”
“That’s it,” Becky said softly.
“What if I want more? You telling me it’s off the table?”
“At the moment? Yes. I can’t tell you what will happen a week, or a month from now. I can tell you that you scare me, Scott.” Becky took a deep breath and inched closer to Zach, threading her fingers through his as though she needed his strength to continue. “I won’t lie. I have feelings for you. But I’m not stupid enough to give you the power to hurt me. And looking at you right now, I can tell you will.”
Scott’s lips parted. He stepped forward. “I won’t. This is different from before, Becky. You’re not a reporter looking for a story. You’re a woman I can’t get out of my head. And Zach . . .” The look Scott gave him stilled his heart. Raw and open and honest. For the first time since they’d met. “I need him to be part of my life.”
“Then you’ll give us the time we need. That might be how you feel today, but what about tomorrow? If you mean it, prove it.” Becky put her hand on Scott’s cheek. “Don’t ask for more than we’re ready to give.”
“Okay.” Scott ducked his head, tightening his grip on the clothes in his hands. “I think I can do that. Blue balls aren’t my thing, but I guess I can deal with them if it’ll show you I mean what I say.”
Fucking incredible. Zach did his best not to laugh, but Becky still gave him a dirty look at the gruff sound that escaped. He cleared his throat. At least Scott was trying. “We’ll turn the TV up loud if you need a few minutes.”
“Naw, I’ll manage.” Scott gave Becky a heavy-lidded look. “Do the zombies scare you? You gonna want to snuggle under the blankets?”
Becky smiled and patted Scott’s cheek. “Yes. Actually, I’m looking forward to watching the show between two big strong men, rather than hiding behind pillows with another woman. Maybe I’ll be able to watch what’s happening without freaking myself out at every creak in the house. Or worrying that my brother might pop in, groaning loud enough to give me a heart attack!”
“I always knew Bower was a jerk.” Scott chuckled and kissed Becky’s forehead. “I’ll make sure you feel safe. Wait for me?”
If Zach ever considered adding another man to his relationship with Becky, it would be Scott, as he was right now. The man was better than he knew. Than anyone knew. If he could accept the limits, who knew what would happen? Maybe the three of them could be happy together.
Don’t jump the gun, Pearce. You’ve never seen this side of Scott. It might not even be real.
Time would tell. But for the moment, Becky seemed happy. And Scott had accepted the little she was willing to give. Which seemed to be more than enough as they cuddled on the couch, Scott so well in tune with Becky that he covered her eyes whenever the music changed. That he spoke softly to her before moving his hands. That he laughed with her to ease the tension when she got choked up about a favorite character meeting their bloody end. At one point, Scott looked over Becky’s head and met Zach’s eyes. And told him, without words, that this woman meant something to him. That he really was willing to do whatever it took to prove it.
This man, the one who wasn’t trying to live down to the image he portrayed to the world, was the man Zach had tossed everything aside to be with that night. Was the man who fought for teammates on the ice, who was fighting to keep the Cobra black and gold.
Who just might succeed if his goals were more important to him than falling into old, self-destructive habits.
As Scott fell asleep with his head on Becky’s shoulder, she tipped her head back and whispered in Zach’s ear.
“I think we’re good for him.”
Zach nodded and reached over to touch Scott’s mussed up hair. “Yeah, we are.”
Quietly rising from the sofa, Zach helped Becky ease Scott’s head on to a cushion, then covered him with a light grey throw. Part of him wanted to shake the man, wake him up so he could join them in bed. But a bigger part, the part that was cautious, maybe even a little selfish, forced him to leave Scott there.
Just one more night with Becky in his arms, one more night to show her she didn’t have to be afraid to wake up in the morning to a cold, empty space on the other side of the bed.
The clock read 5:03 a.m. when Zach heard the floorboards creak. He stared up at the ceiling, listening to the soft sound of the front door opening, then clicking shut. Sleep weighed on him, dragging him down for a few more hours’ rest.
With no regrets.
Chapter Six
Sweat soaked the sheets and cold beads clung to Dominik’s skin as he rolled over, opening his eyes wide, welcoming the sun that sliced across his bed through the part in his bedroom curtains. Daylight was a goddamn blessing. He couldn’t stand the dream anymore, the same one that came every night, where Oriana passed him in the halls of the forum without any recognition in her eyes, the back of the white practice jersey she wore shredded and soaked with blood.
Sloan would never hurt her that badly. Dominik knew that. As much as he hated the whip drawing even a trickle of blood, Sloan did know what he was doing. He was also much better at first aid than he was at aftercare.
The other part of the dream disturbed him almost as much as the blood. Oriana hurt and not coming to him. Not seeing that he was still there for her. How long would it take before they became virtual strangers? Weeks? Months? At what point would they look at each other and realize they had nothing but memories?
Groaning, Dominik shoved off the bed, then went to take a quick shower. Oriana and Max were both in Oriana’s room, where they typically spent the night. Where Dominik would have spent the night if things were different.
They aren’t. You know exactly how this will end.
There was no point in dragging this out. Every single day, he felt things changing. Sloan was already gone, but that wasn’t really new. As he’d gained confidence as a Dom, he’d asked for Dominik’s advice less and less. Then not at all. He shut down when Dominik . . . fuck, there was no other word to use besides lectured. About aftercare. About not distancing himself when his own urges scared him. The more Dominik talked, the less Sloan wanted to listen. They didn’t gel at home like they did on the ice.
And now that Sloan might never play again, they didn’t even have that. All they had was Oriana. And Max. But Max was an honest, loyal man. He loved Sloan like a brother. Maybe more. If it came to a choice between Sloan and Dominik . . .
Dominik wouldn’t force him to make that choice. Wouldn’t force Oriana. If she’d given any impression that she still needed him, he would have fought harder, but . . . it was clear her future was with Max and Sloan. She still wore his collar, yet, for some reason, when she fingered the leather resting against her throat, he had a feeling it was more for sentiment than security. The meaning behind it was gone.
Maybe it had never been there. He now saw the collar like a child’s training wheels, something that had eased Oriana into the lifestyle, given her the strength to find her own balance. It hadn’t been that way when they’d gone through the ceremony, but no one could have predicted how much things would change.
He grabbed a protein bar from the kitchen cupboard and headed for the door. He should have known. Sloan was one of his students. How could a lover they shared be anything other than temporary? How could he have looked at Oriana as a woman who belonged to him, even a little?
But she does! She always will!
No. Maybe he still had a small part of her heart. But not enough.
“Want me to make you something?”
Her voice . . . his throat locked, and it took all his strength to turn and face her without tears in his eyes. She stood there in one of Max’s T-shirts, all lovely curves, bare feet, and rumpled hair. He laughed as he tossed the wrapper of the protein bar in the trash. “I hope I didn’t wake you up? I’m going to meet my brother at the gym.”