GAME MISCONDUCT (The Dartmouth Cobras)

by Sommerland, Bianca

  “Give it your best shot.” Dominik petted Oriana’s hair as she wrapped her arms around his waist. “Figure you woulda learned by now, Coach. You can’t call every game.”

  “I’ll win this one, asshole!” Paul swiveled on his heels and grabbed a bottle of wine off the floor by the lounge chair. Straightened and hurled it. Dominik brought up his arm. The bottle shattered.

  Glass and wine and blood rained down. Dominik tucked Oriana’s face under his arm, but she could still see the red sparkles, dancing like mad fireflies, zipping in and out of the white haze of her mind. A childish voice cried out Dominik’s name. The voice belonged to her.

  * * * *

  Dominik held Oriana against his chest, gritting his teeth as agony ripped up his nerves and his grip went slack.

  “Dominik! He’s hurt!” Oriana groped for his arm and smeared her hand in his blood. The color drained from her face. “Help him!”

  “Shh.” Dominik let his bloody arm fall to his side. “It’s not a big deal. You need to sit down and breathe, pet.”

  “No, sir.” After a deep inhale, she wrapped the wound up in the bottom of her shirt and put some pressure on it. “I won’t follow orders while you’re bleeding to death.”

  Bleeding to death? He shook his head and smiled. Whatever you say, bunny.

  He watched T.J. hustle Paul into the house, his sheer size making Paul’s struggles pointless.

  “Get your fucking hands off me!” Paul shouted. “I’ll destroy you, bitch! I’ll fucking destroy you!”

  Still holding on to Max, Sloan called out, “Punch him for me, T.J.!”

  “Mason won’t be able to press charges.”

  “Do you want to press charges?” Sloan asked Dominik.

  Did he? He pressed his lips to Oriana’s brow. Ice cold. He shook his head. “Just get him out of here, T.J.!” His head spun and he swallowed. “Take her, Callahan, she’s about to pass out.”

  “Or you are. Go sit.” Sloan released Max and swooped Oriana up in his arms. He carried her to the lounge chair, keeping one eye on his friend. “Think you can pull yourself together long enough to help Mason?”

  Max nodded, then disappeared inside, coming back seconds later with a dish towel to compress the deep cuts in Dominik’s arm. “You all right?”

  “Yeah.” He looked at the glass shards in his fountain, the blood and wine forming a nasty red puddle. His sanctuary was trashed. He let out a long sigh, then turned his back on the damage. That could wait. “Let’s check on Oriana.”

  “Oriana Delgado is a whore!” Paul shouted from the street. “Hear that? The rich bitch is a whore! She’s fucking all the Dartmouth Cobras!”

  “Shut your mouth before the neighbors call the cops, Coach,” they heard T.J. say from below. The front door slammed shut.

  Dominik stepped inside and closed the balcony door behind him. Oriana didn’t need to hear any more of that shit. He decided to change the subject. “Don’t know if you wanna be a doctor if you can’t take the sight of blood.” He covered his bloody arm with the dish towel and took a knee beside Sloan. “Get her some water, Sloan.”

  “Yes, Master Mason.” Sloan stood and shot Oriana a wink. He frowned when she didn’t respond and hurried to the mini-fridge. “She’s not going into shock, is she?”

  “I don’t know.” Dominik took his phone out of his pocket. “Should we give Doc Henry a call?”

  “No need.” Giving him the fakest smile in history, Oriana pushed up to a sitting position. “I’m fine. I don’t know what came over me.” Her eyes looked very shiny. “Don’t worry about me. Let’s take care of you.”

  “It’s not the blood.” T.J. locked the door, grabbed the bottle of water from Sloan as he passed, and went to the bar. Ice clinked in a glass, and he spoke with his back to them. “It’s Mason.”

  Max had just gotten a fresh towel, which he was wrapping around Dominik’s arm. His grip suddenly tightened. “What about Mason?”

  Pain erupted in Dominik’s arm. He growled and jerked away. “Fuck, man.”

  T.J. brought Oriana the glass. “When Sloan’s face was opened up by that slash—” he arched a brow when she winced “—I held the skin together with my hand. I didn’t like that my friend was hurt, but the blood didn’t bother me.” He sat on the arm of the sofa and put his hands on his knees. “Last winter, my daughter had an accident when we went on a ski trip. I almost passed out when I saw her blood on the snow.”

  Dominik’s head shot up. His eyes locked with Oriana’s. She flushed and looked away.

  “I’m taking a walk.” Dominik was out the door before anyone could argue with him. He couldn’t show her how much it pleased him that she cared. She shouldn’t care . . . not that much.

  But she did. So what the fuck was he going to do about that now?

  * * * *

  The door opened again before it had fully shut. Sloan paused, torn between the urge to go after Mason and the instinct to hover over Oriana.

  Vanek balanced three pizza boxes on one hand while he motioned over his shoulder with his thumb. “What’s his problem?”

  “Don’t ask.” Max disappeared into the bathroom. He came out with a fresh towel in his hands and headed straight for the door. “I’m gonna make sure he gets that taken care of.” He looked pointedly at Sloan. “Take care of my girl. See that she gets what she needs.”

  The stickiness of wine and blood covering the trembling girl soaked through his jeans and smeared his bare chest. Sloan knew exactly what she needed.

  He eyed T.J. who was rubbing his face with his hands.

  And he had an idea of how to take care of another problem while he was at it.

  Chapter Twelve

  Wine and blood streaked through the water, stark against the white porcelain tub. Beneath the scalding spray of the shower, she bowed her head and tried to stop the constant replay of the scene in her mind. But every time she closed her eyes . . .

  She put a hand on the tiled wall and sucked in air. The sweet scent of metal wafted up with the steam. The bathroom tilted.

  “Whoa, careful, honey.” T.J. caught her around the waist and lifted her out of the bath. He sat her on the big marble counter between the twin sinks and draped a towel over her shoulders. “I think you’ve rinsed off enough. Can you draw her a bath please, Callahan?”

  The shower sputtered, and she stole a glance at Sloan who bent over to rinse out the tub. From the stiff set of his shoulders, she could tell he was pissed. And no wonder. Look at all the trouble she’d caused.

  “Hey, look at me.” T.J. stroked her legs with the ends of the big towel. His hands curved around the top of her thighs, so high that his thumbs skimmed along the crease of her mound. He smiled when she lifted her head and blinked at him. “You did absolutely nothing wrong. This isn’t your fault. Paul’s an asshole, and that’s all there is to it.”

  “He wouldn’t have come if I hadn’t . . .” She groaned and pressed her legs together. His thumbs pressed right over her swollen clit, and her groan became a moan. “I should have just told my father what I told Paul in the first place. I shouldn’t have dragged you all into it. Now Dominik’s hurt and . . .”

  Sloan straightened and folded his arms over his chest, leaning against the wall across from them. “Dominik’s cut himself worse shaving. Believe me, none of us would trade what happened tonight to avoid whatever Paul’s planning.”

  T.J.’s thumbs massaged her, and she clenched her thighs to stop him. “But now me and Max—”

  Christ. She bit her lip as T.J. settled one arm on her shoulders and leaned her back. His hand covered her pussy, and her pulse quickened. “Let me help you relax. Max won’t mind.”

  “But he’s not . . .”

  “But I am.” Sloan crossed the bathroom and rested his folded arms on the counter by her hip. “He told me to take care of you.”

  All the heat and the moisture building inside seemed to boil and spill in response to his words. She didn’t understand why. Then T.J. filled
her with one big finger, and it didn’t matter at all.

  “What did Paul mean when he mentioned your brother?” T.J. slid his finger up and circled her clit gently with the wet tip. “What did your mother do to him?”

  A question? Did he just ask her a question? Now?

  He stopped moving when she didn’t answer.

  “She killed him.” Cold settled deep in her chest, the cold sense of loss for a brother she’d never really known. “She was an alcoholic. She got drunk one night, and he got in the car to try and stop her. I was nine—they left me alone with Silver—they never came back.”

  A deep thrust and the cold dissipated. She wiggled her hips and let her thighs open wider.

  “Do you miss him?” T.J. asked, hooking his fingers inside her.

  “Can’t. Never spent any time with him. He was gone all the time for sports stuff and I—” She hissed in a breath when T.J. rolled her clit with his thumb. “But Daddy took it hard. Antoine was his favorite.”

  “Bath’s ready.” Sloan patted her knee and lifted her off the counter when T.J. backed away. “A good soak and you’ll feel all better.”

  Her lips parted. That’s it?

  “I’ll be right back.” T.J. grinned and walked out.

  Oriana gritted her teeth and nudged Sloan aside to step in the bath. Mmm, very nice. She closed her eyes and got comfortable. Well, if T.J. wouldn’t . . . She dipped a hand under the bubbles.

  And glared at Sloan when he grabbed her wrist.

  “Patience. He’s coming.” He chuckled when she huffed. “Paul really didn’t do it for you, did he, baby?”

  “You have to ask?” She laid back and let her eyes drift shut. “So are you and T.J. going to . . .”

  “Just T.J. I’m waiting for Max.” His finger traced random shapes on her palm, and she sighed. “It’s nice to know you’re looking forward to it.”

  “Can I ask you something?” She opened her eyes to watch him nod. “Why all the questions?”

  “T.J. didn’t want to take advantage of you if you were too vulnerable. He’s noble like that.” The respect in his tone reflected in the soft glow of his eyes. “If you were really upset, he would have brought you to the bedroom to cuddle. But you’re more worried about Mason than anything else.”

  No point in denying it. Her brow furrowed. “You must think I’m a cold-hearted bitch.”

  He squeezed her hand and frowned. “Why? Your brother died fifteen years ago, and, like you said, you hardly knew him. My mother died when I was born. My stepmother abandoned me and my dad for a rich guy when I was twelve, then committed suicide a year later. I don’t pretend to care just because people might think I should.”

  The rawness of his tone made his every word a lie. Not what he said about her brother, but what he said about his stepmother.

  She laced her fingers with his. “How’s your father?”

  Little creases formed around his eyes, and his whole bearing loosened up. “He’s really proud of me. Tells everyone about his son ‘The Pro.’” His lips twisted. “He won’t be too happy about me being dumped in the minors.”

  “You won’t be.”

  “You can’t stop it, Oriana. I think we both know your plan won’t work now.”

  Plastic tearing brought their attention to T.J., standing in the doorway.

  “I thought you’d keep her simmering for me, Callahan.” He dropped something in the trash and approached the bath, one hand behind his back. “Now I’ve got to start over.”

  “Sorry, she distracted me.” Sloan patted her hand and got out of the way. “Never thought a woman could do that just talking. Amazing what she can do with that mouth of hers.”

  T.J. laughed. “Don’t I know it.” He pointed at Oriana. “Mouth and eyes shut. I’ve got something special for you.”

  She pressed her eyes shut, but couldn’t help but ask. “What?”

  “Shh.” The water lapped at the sides of the bath, and he pried her legs apart. “Don’t move.”

  Buzzing, the sound, then the feel as something slipped inside her. She gasped as the vibration spread, then swirled around and around. It withdrew, glided in, then left her again. Her eyes shot open and she stared at the vibrator in T.J.’s hand. The end of the dark blue, rubber rod curved inward, and she watched it slide in and out of her. She’d never owned a vibrator, but the way it made her feel—damn, time to buy herself some toys!

  “I’m afraid I don’t have the stamina of the rest, doll face.” Water dripped from T.J.’s hand before he covered one breast. “But I’ll be damned if I let this opportunity pass without having you come under my hands at least once.”

  He spread her pussy lips with his fingers and manipulated her clit, rubbing at either side of the hard nub while drawing the thick rod in and out. The slickness of her joined the water already filling her. Water slapped the edges of the bath, and her butt slipped against the smooth porcelain beneath her as her hips rose to meet each thrust. She reached out to cling to the sides of the bath. Little spasms in her core told her she was close. Climax hovered, just out of reach.

  What the hell was wrong with her?

  A hand pressed against her cheek. “I want to hear you scream, Oriana.” Sloan’s lips covered hers, and his tongue slid into her mouth. He bit her lip when she tried to kiss him back. “Watching you being fucked with that vibrator’s got me so hard. I almost can’t wait for my turn.”

  “Then don’t.” She whimpered as the edge of an orgasm came and went. “Take me now.”

  “No.” His hand tightened around her jaw and he kissed her, the press of his lips as firm as his words. “Come. Come while I watch another man open you up and get you ready for me. My dick’s bigger than what he’s got stuffed inside you.”

  She was empty. Then suddenly full. The vibrations sped up.

  “Ah!” She screamed into his mouth as her core tensed and released. An undercurrent of lava seemed to flow up into her womb and spill out until it coursed through every vein. Water sloshed onto the floor as she rode the vibrator, drawing the sensation out. Then it became too much. She whimpered.

  The vibrator went away. Someone picked her up. A towel covered her. Strong arms carried her from the bathroom. She felt boneless, and it was wonderful. Her cheek rested against a hard chest, and she let the sound of a steady heartbeat lull her.

  “Having fun, boys?”

  Max. She looked at him. At Dominik. Both standing in the main room, expressions unreadable. A gruff sound brought her attention up to Sloan.

  “What do you think?” he asked, the muscles of his arms tightening around her.

  She chewed at her lip and hid her face against his chest. The throb from the aftermath of her pleasure stilled. For all Max’s talk of giving her this one night, he couldn’t have expected her to carry on without him.

  She’d gone too far.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “You should have heard them,” Vanek said around a mouthful of pizza. “They had her screaming and—Ow!” He rubbed his head where T.J. had cuffed him. “What was that for?”

  “You’ve got a big mouth.” T.J. put his hand on Oriana’s shoulder. “They’re not mad, sweetheart. Look at them.”

  Sloan tensed as Oriana pushed out of his arms. T.J. better be right.

  Dominik approached her first. “Just a few stitches. No big deal.” He titled her chin up with a hand and kissed her. “Would have been a bigger deal if you’d have gotten hurt.”

  “There was so much blood.” She leaned on Dominik and let out a heavy sigh. “I had to get it off me. Everything else just . . . happened.”

  Max stepped up behind her and touched her shoulder. “What happened, exactly?”

  Oriana shifted. Dominik put his arm around her shoulders and tucked her against his side. Sloan’s tongue ran across his teeth as he stifled the urge to snatch her away from the other men.

  “You wanna get off on the details, Max?” T.J.’s lips curled, and his nostrils flared. “Whatever’s going on between
you two, you gave her carte blanche for the night.”

  “Yes, I did,” Max said, more to himself than anyone else. He mumbled something under his breath Sloan couldn’t make out and shook his head. “Just askin’.”

  “So, how many stitches did you get, Mason?” Cardboard scraped the coffee table as Vanek took another piece of pizza. From his tone, he’d missed the entire exchange. Or was choosing to ignore it. “Oriana’s right; there was an awful lot of blood. Cleaned it up best I could, but I think all the fish in your pond-thingy are dead.”

  Nice way to change the subject. Sloan rolled his eyes and scrambled to come up with something else.

  But Dominik took the offered “out”. “There were no fish in—and it’s a fountain, but thanks for taking care of that for me.”

  “You’re welcome.” Vanek pointed at Dominik’s arm. “I’m guessing thirty.”

  “Fifteen. I’m gonna have a few sweet scars.” Dominik pulled off his jacket and hiked up the sleeve of his black sweatshirt. “Almost looks like lightning.”

  Very true. Dominik’s peeled-off bandage revealed sewn skin in three long lines angled from one another. Once the swelling went down, it would look pretty cool.

  But if her pallor was anything to go by, Oriana didn’t agree. Sloan caught Dominik’s eyes and nodded at Oriana. Much as he didn’t like how close Dominik and Oriana were getting, she needed him now.

  Dominik bent to pick her up as she swayed. “Whoa there, sweetie. Completely forgot how much seeing me hurt affects you.” The regret in his eyes couldn’t hide the pleasure in his tone. “Come on, I’ll bring you—”

  “No!” Oriana smacked the center of Dominik’s chest and scowled at him. “Don’t be a dumb ass. If you pick me up, you’ll tear open your stitches.”

  Now that was a funny sight. Sloan knew Dominik well as a Master and as a hockey player. For a moment, he’d relaxed into an easy going one-of-the-guys. Concern shifted him to Dom. Now the two were at war as Oriana herded him toward the bedroom.

  “I want you in bed. Now.”