Offside

by Bianca Sommerland

  “Do. I can’t wait to hear how it goes.” Her laughter this time was genuine. “Only one downside to all this.”

  He frowned. A downside she found funny? “And what’s that?”

  “All the flirting and teasing. All the offers. It worked. Scott’s going to think he won.”

  Grinning, Zach shook his head. The way Scott and Becky pushed and pulled, the way they tested one another . . . he could practically see the sparks fly already when they finally came together. But when that happened, none of them would be playing around. “He hasn’t won because this isn’t a game. And this goes no further until I’m sure he understands.”

  * * * *

  Scott stepped to the edge of the diving board, inhaling deep as he prepared to take the plunge. After hours under the blazing spotlights in the ballroom, posing with several different Ice Girls, dressed in a suit, then full hockey gear, while they got to wear their cute little uniforms—he’d been more than happy to slip into his swim trunks. Cobra swim trunks, black with gold trim and the logo embroidered on one thigh. Little cheesy, but they’d work for the group photos. And they worked now that he needed to cool off.

  The water was a good temperature, waking him without shocking him when he broke through the surface with a splash. He stayed under, crossing the pool with long strokes, coming up for a breath before racing to the other end. A few times he had to stop short when the Ice Girls playing in the water blocked his path, but he got in a few good laps, got his heart pumping, before he stopped. Chlorine stung his eyes and his nose, but the burn in his lungs and muscles was invigorating. He shook water from his hair, then groaned as cameras flashed, slashing white light straight into his skull.

  “You haven’t gotten enough for today?” he shouted, not all that surprised when the cameramen ignored him and went to blind someone else. “And I volunteered for a fucking week of this?”

  “Pretty sure Keane didn’t give you a choice, hot stuff.” Sahara grinned at him as she perched on the edge of the pool to dip her feet into the water. The sequins on her midriff Ice Girl jersey glinted in the sun. “I know you rich dudes can afford cruises like this whenever you want, but me, I’m happy to suffer the cameras all week long for all this.” She tipped her head back, bracing her hands behind her, soaking in the heat with her eyes closed. “Don’t mind me if I don’t feel sorry for you.”

  That so? His lip twitched. “Hey, I’m feeling sorry for you.”

  She didn’t bother opening her eyes. “Oh? And why’s that?”

  “They’re gonna be so pissed.” He scooped his hands under the water. “I’m pretty sure those uniforms aren’t supposed to get wet.”

  The water splashed into her face and soaked her little jersey. Her shrieks rang over the laughter of the other girls. Screaming like an angry cat, she stood, pulling off her jersey and skirt to reveal a golden string bikini. She tossed her clothes onto a pile of towels near the lounge chairs and bared her teeth.

  “Scott Demyan, you are a dead man!”

  She launched herself into the water, and he back-paddled out of reach before she came up. They splashed and played for a while, attracting the camera crew as the other girls, and a few of the guys, joined in. Pischlar and Akira were in the water now, which tore his attention away from the fun. Akira was flirting, laughing, which was good. She was showing everyone a side of her that wasn’t afraid, and he liked that a lot. But her smiles seemed a little too bright, and she seemed to be letting Pischlar get a little too close. Scott eased away from the group to watch her as Pischlar picked her up by the hips and tossed her into the water. There, right before she floated back and slid her body up against the man. A tightness around her eyes. The determined set to her lips. She’d gone from a nice steady pace into being comfortable with men to a full-out sprint. Being here would give her and Pischlar plenty of opportunities to be alone. She might take a leap just to prove to herself she could.

  And he couldn’t help but feel that would be a really bad idea. She wasn’t ready, and all it would take was one wrong move from Pischlar to trash all the progress she’d made.

  But before he could intervene, a heavy hand settled on his shoulder. He glanced back to see Mason shaking his head.

  “Leave them for now. I’ll talk to her later. She needs you as a friend—let me be the overprotective one.” Mason gave him a grim smile. “If she decides to go through with this, she’ll need someone to talk to. Since Jami isn’t here, I think that should be you.”

  “Got it.” Scott looked back toward Sahara, who had climbed out of the pool and was posing on a lounge chair for the cameras. Behind the man crouching near her feet stood Zach.

  Scott’s pulse sped up a notch. Zach must have just finished a photo shoot of his own, because he was wearing the bottom half of his hockey gear, his chest bare and glistening with oil that brought out the shadows and ridges of his bulging muscles. Just the sight of him made Scott’s dick harden and throb. Leaving the pool would give the cameras more of a show than he wanted to. But he couldn’t let Zach just walk away. He had to make every moment they had together count.

  “You coming in?” he shouted as he reached the end of the pool closest to where Zach stood. His breath caught as Zach approached him, something in his eyes making Scott feel like he’d just stepped into a lion’s den with raw steak strapped around his waist. He hadn’t seen that look in Zach’s eyes for a very long time. His tone was rough when he spoke again. “I swear, I’ll behave.”

  Little creases formed around Zach’s lips as he gave Scott a broad smile. “Really? I’d like to see that.”

  “Is that a yes?” Scott rested his forearms on the edge of the pool, caught off-guard by Zach’s smooth reply. So far the man had shut him down at every turn. Maybe Scott was finally getting to him. “It would be cool to just hang out. If . . .” Hell, one of their issues was probably that Zach wouldn’t betray Becky. Scott needed to make sure that Zach knew he that he didn’t expect . . . he sucked in a deep breath and lowered his voice. “Look. What I said before was bullshit. I’m cool with nothing happening while we’re here. I’m not expecting you to do anything without Becky being okay with it. Same in reverse. I’m not trying to come between you.”

  “I appreciate that. But Becky’s fine with it.” Zach chuckled as Scott stared at him. The hard glint in Zach’s eyes made him wonder what he was in for. Zach’s next words made it clear it wouldn’t be easy. “I don’t expect you to become a saint, Scott. Doing that would disappoint all your fans anyway. I want to see you having fun here. But not too much fun.”

  Scott scowled. Cryptic much? “I didn’t have any orgies planned, if that’s what you’re getting at. I want you and Becky. No one else interests me in the least.”

  “I’m happy to hear that. Because this is going to be a very long week for you.”

  “Umm . . . what?”

  Taking a knee, Zach glanced over at the girls. At the camera crews. Likely making sure no one was within hearing. “You’ve talked a lot about proving yourself, but I’m not convinced. You indulge too often for me to believe you’re waiting on me and Becky.”

  “Fuck, I’ve had nothing besides my own hand since . . .” Yeah, probably better not to bring up the guys that had gotten him kicked out of Vanek’s place. “It’s been a while.”

  “Yes. I know what the lotion reference means now.” Zach cocked his head, resting his hands on his thighs. “Hand over the lotion tonight. You won’t need it.”

  Holy shit! If Zach meant what Scott thought he did—Scott gulped and nodded. “Not a problem. I brought lube too.”

  Zach snorted. “How nice for you. But you won’t need that either.”

  “Huh?”

  “You’ll take what I give you and nothing more.” Zach pushed up to his feet. “Have your fun, but know that if you’re not getting off by my hands, or mouth, or body—you’re not getting off at all.”

  Okay, that was just funny. Not a night went by that he didn’t jerk off to release some pressure. It
wasn’t the same as enjoying mindless sex, but it fit nicely into his bedtime routine. He laughed. “Listen, buddy. I told you already—you ain’t turning me into your sub. I’m not all that into that shit.”

  “I don’t want you to be my sub, Scott. Give me more than words to go on.” Zach glanced at the others again, even though the girls were screaming loud enough to cover anything he said. His jaw hardened. “If you can’t wait for me, you’re not worth my time. Or Becky’s.”

  “I have needs, man.” The water around Scott seemed to cool. He wasn’t sure he could pass this little test. Sex was his release. Had been for as long as he could remember. “Isn’t me saying I want no one else enough?”

  “No.”

  “Then tonight . . .” He could do that. He could hang on a night—maybe two—if Zach wanted him all revved up just for him. The thought alone had him chewing on the inside of his cheek, struggling for control. “Tonight I’ll—”

  “Not tonight.” Zach patted his cheek. “I never said this would be easy.”

  Try nearly impossible. But Scott simply nodded, shuddering as Zach slid a hand around the back of his neck and tugged his hair, his eyes dark and full of promise. If Scott could do this, he’d be rewarded. And it made him want to try.

  Because the reward wasn’t just emptying his sac. Wasn’t just cheap, quick pleasure.

  It was something that would last. Something he’d never had.

  * * * *

  Akira wrapped the big, fluffy white towel around her body, shaking so hard her teeth chattered. Shawn had invited her back to his room for “a nightcap after dinner.” It didn’t really surprise her; she’d practically shoved her willingness down his throat, but she wasn’t feeling it. The only reason she was doing this was because she felt like she had to. Hell, she was practically a born-again virgin. The only time she’d . . . she’d had sex was when those men had ripped into her body on that office floor. She needed to do it again just to prove she could. It shouldn’t be such a big deal. Maybe, once she got it over with, it wouldn’t be.

  But she couldn’t be near him now. She needed to get her head on straight first. Remind herself that this was something normal people did.

  And she wanted to be normal. She wanted to be like all the other girls hooking up with players tonight. Just having fun—not worrying about the consequences. She was too young to take . . . fucking someone this seriously. Yes, someone touching her body was scary as hell, but Shawn was sweet. Made her feel sexy. She kinda wished she felt more for him, but that didn’t really matter.

  Sex on the ‘to do’ list. Sounded about right.

  Someone cleared their throat and her blood ran cold, like she’d been caught snatching a chocolate bar at the drugstore. She lifted her head, gaping up at Dominik, sure all her thoughts were printed out in black ink on her face. She couldn’t hide from him. And didn’t really want to.

  “What are you doing, little one?”

  She shrugged. “Right now? Nothing.”

  “You know very well what I mean.”

  She did. But going into it felt like talking to her dad—before what happened with his coworkers. At fifteen, she’d missed curfew. Tried smoking. Had a few drinks. She’d been a normal teen, getting in trouble and driving her parents insane. Working for her dad had been a way to make up for all the trouble she’d caused.

  And then . . . then she’d been ruined, and she was sure it was her fault. Yeah, she’d had therapy and everything, had been told she wasn’t to blame. But karma came at people in different ways. Her parents were respectable. Responsible. And she hadn’t been.

  And you paid for it. No matter what you looked like, those men knew who you really were.

  Her mind was a great big jumbled mess. Therapy had worked well enough that she could spot the thoughts that didn’t fit. It wasn’t her fault. She hadn’t asked to be . . . raped. She had a right to keep living. Within reason. Sending out “fuck me” signals wouldn’t help. She really wanted to believe just doing it would get her past that last hurdle, but what if it didn’t? What if it just made the next hurdle bigger? Harder to pass?

  Maybe Dominik would understand. That’s why he was here, right? She faced him, her hands fisted around the towel covering her practically naked body. “I have to do this. I have to know I can. Shawn’s been so patient, so understanding. I know you’ve talked to him. He was a good choice.”

  “I didn’t choose him for you, pet. I wouldn’t have. Your first time needs to mean something. It won’t with him.” Dominik traced his cold fingers down her cheek, shadows stealing the reflection of the fading sun from his eyes. “I know you want to move on. But take it slow. You’ve been through enough.”

  “I brought that on myse—”

  “Don’t. You know that’s not true. Maybe blaming yourself will make doing whatever you plan easier, but it’s not helping you.” He moved closer, and she swallowed, overwhelmed by the way her body reacted to him. Heating all over, craving . . . something. “Baby, you’ve finally accepted that you can be aroused by a man. And that it’s not wrong. Don’t cheapen it by taking the first man who comes along into your bed. Sex isn’t something that just happens. It should be special.”

  “It isn’t always though. A girl my age should have experiences. Even if she regrets them after.” She turned her head, staring out at the waves slapping the side of the ship, already hating her own words even though she couldn’t keep them from coming out. “If I can just do it . . . if I can have sex and act like it was no big deal—”

  “Why would anyone want that? Don’t do this just to prove there’s nothing wrong with you.” Dominik’s tone changed. Became rough as his gaze followed hers to the dark blue depths. “Even if it doesn’t last, there should be no regrets.”

  Without thinking, she moved up to him, taking his hands in hers. “I heard that Oriana’s visiting Silver. Have you talked to her?”

  He shook his head. A small smile crept over his lips. “Changing the subject again?” He looked past her, stepped away just as a camera flashed, then groaned. “If you want to talk, maybe we can hang out later. I need a break from the vultures.”

  She grabbed his arm before he could slip away, something occurring to her that she was surprised she hadn’t thought of earlier. Yeah, talking to Dominik was a bit like talking to a father figure . . . or maybe not. Maybe it was more like talking to a Master. A Master who knew what she needed. She bit her lip, hoping she wasn’t making a mistake.

  “Dinner with the group is optional tonight. Maybe we can . . . I mean, I won’t go to Shawn’s room.” She took a deep breath. “I’ll come to yours.”

  “You’re welcome to, if you want. Being the captain, I was given my own suite. I can . . .” His words slowed and his eyes narrowed. He’d caught on to what she was implying. “Akira—”

  “Just hear me out.” She dug her nails into her palms, squaring her shoulders and jutting her chin up. “You’re my sponsor, right? And you don’t expect anything from me in return. That’s clear. But you’ve also become my mentor, teaching me about the lifestyle, showing me I don’t have to be afraid of who I am.”

  “Yes, but there are limits to what I can teach you.” His lips thinned as his gaze passed over her, his eyes hooded, but not enough to hide the hint of interest. “I’m not ready for a relationship, Akira. And neither are you.”

  “Exactly. But that’s not what we’ll have.” She wanted to touch him again. If only the camera crews weren’t hovering. Not close enough to hear anything they said, but close enough to snap a shot and make a lot out of nothing. Well, nothing yet. “There are other men I feel safe with, but none of them can do for me what you can. I’d never regret anything with you, because you understand me. You’ll help me get past all the triggers—you’ll catch them before I do. Like you did at the club.”

  “You have no idea what you’re asking from me, pet.” Dominik blinked, then shook his head, lips twitching with amusement. “Damn it, I’m already treating you like you’re my s
ub. This wasn’t my intention, but I shouldn’t be surprised that you’d consider me as someone safe to take the next step with.”

  “You came to me. You knew I was about to make a big mistake.” Her cheeks heated as she considered what he’d stopped her from doing. “I-I would have been too embarrassed to come to you after. I wish I’d thought of this sooner.”

  “I haven’t said yes, little one.”

  “You didn’t say no either.” She wrinkled her nose when he barked out a laugh. “What? It’s true!”

  “It is. But I just realized you’re a pushy little brat.” He tapped her chin with a finger. “I’m eager to see how the Dom that claims you after I set you loose handles that.”

  She grinned. “That’s a yes.”

  He caught her chin in his hand, rolling his eyes at the sporadic flashes. He bent down so she could feel his hot breath on her lips. “That’s a yes. Come to my room in two hours. And you will tell me how your apology to Pischlar went. I won’t have my ‘pupil’ teasing men with what belongs to me.”

  Her heart skipped a few beats. She panted. Swallowed hard. “I belong to you?”

  “Until I find someone who can appreciate you and care for you . . .” He kissed her cheek, then whispered in her ear. “Yes.”

  * * * *

  “I don’t see a problem.”

  Dominik paced around the small table set up with a fondue pot and a tray with tenderized beef and an assortment of vegetables. Having Akira come to his room for dinner wasn’t an issue. But what she expected from him was.

  So he’d called the one woman he’d hoped would understand his misgivings. His only concern was that her long-standing friendship with Sloan might be a conflict of interest. So far, it didn’t seem to be a problem.

  But Chicklet was a Domme, first and foremost. She’d approved of his plans for Akira’s birthday.

  Since when do you doubt yourself so much that you need another Master’s approval?