Line Brawl
The Dartmouth Cobras #8
Bianca Sommerland
Contents
Copyright
Blurb
Warning
Also by Bianca Sommerland
Author’s Note
Acknowledgments
Dedication
A few words from Pisch…
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Epilogue
Game Misconduct
Defensive Zone
Breakaway
Offside
Delayed Penalty
Iron Cross
Goal Line
About the Author
Also by Bianca Sommerland
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Copyright © 2016 Bianca Sommerland
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ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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Photo credit to:
Jenn LeBlanc/Illustrated Romance
Editing By: Editing By Rebecca
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License Notes
This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it to the vendor and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
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This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. The characters are products of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.
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Licensed material is being used for illustrative purposes only and any person depicted in the licensed material is a model.
Blurb
Not all fights are one on one. In a team, no man should stand alone.
‘You can’t keep me.’
Shawn ‘Easy’ Pischlar has given his speech so often, it should be written on the white board in the Dartmouth Cobra’s locker room. Too many of his own teammates have heard the words.
And the games he’s played are finally catching up to him.
To hang on to his freedom, Shawn gave up on ever having someone to call his own. A young woman who expects nothing from him slips into his life and has him ready to toss the rulebook. While the man he loves tempts him to burn it.
Keeping them both would be easy, only…caring about them isn’t.
Because when he lets himself care, he remembers why he wrote the rules in the first place. Every lover, from the casual, to those who steal a piece of his heart, shouldn’t expect more than pleasure. More than passion.
Playing the game, on and off the ice, is his whole world. One he isn’t ready to change.
Except, life doesn’t stop for the game. And when old scars are ripped open, and he’s left bloody and beaten, the rules won’t help him put the pieces of his life back together.
To win this fight, he’ll have to break each and every one.
Warning
This book contains material not suitable for readers under 18. Besides the usual combination of loving in all different forms, there is edgeplay that may go beyond what some readers are used to. There are also confrontations with a past abuser and flashbacks that may trigger those who’ve been in this terrible situation. I’d like to add that if you ever find yourself the victim of physical, emotional, or mental abuse, please reach out to friends or family or one of the many organizations that can give you a safe way out. While this is fiction, some situations happen in real life. Everyone deserves to be treated with love and respect.
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Author’s Note: The Cobras series has a continuing arc about the franchise, players, and previous relationships. Some plots continue through the series and may involve more than the main relationship. The series is best read in order.
Also by Bianca Sommerland
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* * *
The Dartmouth Cobras
Blind Pass
Game Misconduct
Defensive Zone
Breakaway
Offside
Delayed Penalty
Iron Cross
Goal Line
Line Brawl
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Also
Deadly Captive
Collateral Damage
The End – Coming Soon
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Celestial Pets: Evil’s Embrace
Solid Education
Forbidden Steps
Rosemary Entwined
The Trip
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Winter’s Wrath Series
Backlash
Author’s Note
For some reason, this book has been very different than any of the other Cobra books. Maybe because the anticipation for myself, and for the readers, to finally get Pischlar’s book out there, made it even more important to really tell his story perfectly. But the best stories are imperfect. Which is what makes them stick with you, long after you’ve returned the book to the shelf. There can be no formula. The only expectation is the unexpected.
Like most authors, when I write, I have my doubts. I wonder if I have the talent, the skills, the strength to do the story justice. Whether anyone who reads this story agrees depends on their tastes, but there were two things I knew without a doubt.
I wasn’t along for the ride with an ordinary hero.
And there will never be another quite like him.
Even the most messed up, complicated people deserve love. No one is immune to pain. And sometimes, everything you’re convinced is the absolute truth will be questioned. If you want simple, this is probably not the book for you.
If you want ‘Easy’?
This is him in all his glory. And I hope you enjoy getting to know him as much as I did.
This isn’t the end for him.
But it is one hell of a beginning.
Acknowledgments
This has been an amazing journey and as always, I have many people to thank. Let’s start with the fans of the Dartmouth Cobras. You’re all AMAZING. Your passion means so much to me. This team has become as real to you as they are to me, and every loss, every win, is something we’ve experienced together. And I hope we can continue to enjoy every one for at least a few more books. ;)
To Stacey, you amaze me with your patience and how much you believe in me, no matter how rough things get. You believing in me makes it easier for me to believe in myself. I can thank you in every book, tell you every day how much I appreciate you, and it still won’t be enough.
Jennifer, for your friendship, for
how much faith you’ve shown in my ability to get past the parts of the book I was afraid to write, because they ripped open old scars, thank you. You’ve dealt with so much of my crazy and I think you’ve earned sainthood for that! Lol!
My sweet, loving daughters, some days have been hard, but I hope, when you one day pick up these books, you read all the acknowledgements dedicated to you and remember the same precious moments I do. Sleepless nights and deadlines, then a day where we’d all shut away the rest of the world to just be us. I live for those days. You’re both growing so fast, but I am so proud of the strong young women you are becoming. Just slow down a little. I’m still getting used to you being too big to pick up and hold for hours.
There are many that helped me with language, and medical stuff, and I have to say, you guys are awesome! Christine, you spent days going over different scenarios with me and I am so grateful for your willingness to share your knowledge. Any mistakes I made are my own, but as close to real life as possible thanks to you.
To Jenn Leblanc and Robert Simmons, thank you for giving me a perfect image for the cover. I needed something unique for Pischlar’s book, and I couldn’t ask for better. You’re both awesome to work with!
And last, but definitely not least, Milly. Damn, I have been thinking over what I would say to you for days, and I’m not sure I have words for all you’ve done for me. You are my sun, the one who made the darkest days seem bright, and your friendship is priceless. I have never known someone so selfless and giving and I’m so happy to have you in my life. You get me in a way no one ever has or ever will. The day can’t come soon enough when I can see you again!
To a season best forgotten, but a team that never will be.
A few words from Pisch…
Call me, Easy. And let me give it to you straight.
You don’t want a man like me.
What you want is a man who will say all the right things. Who will sweep you off your feet and make your heart race as you fall in love. He’ll give you the happily ever after every woman secretly dreams of.
The man you really want has probably dreamt of that too.
My dreams are simpler.
In this moment, all I need is the taste of your lips, the feel of your flesh. Right now, I can make you feel things you’ve never dared to imagine. That you couldn’t imagine, because the things you’ve experienced fit into a neat little box.
Even the kinky stuff.
So before you begin, let me tell you the rules.
I am not interested in long term. I don’t tolerate jealousy. If you fall for me, you will get hurt, so be damn sure you keep your heart out of the game.
And it is a game. A game where no one has to lose. The prize is an experience you’ll never forget. A beautiful memory.
But you can’t keep me.
Chapter 1
Early May
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Why had he ever thought it would just be an easy, no regrets, fuck?
Because everyone’s right. You are stupid.
Ian White stepped up to the door of his best friend’s apartment, a place he’d once spent more time at than his own, and for the first time, couldn’t bring himself to just walk in. He had the damn key, on the Deadpool keychain Pisch had given him, but he left it in his pocket.
Things were different.
I fucked up.
But this was freakin’ Shawn “Easy” Pischlar. Sex didn’t mean a thing to him, no matter who it was with. But some lines couldn’t be crossed, and Ian had trampled all over them like the big, dumb meathead he was. Fine, Pisch had fucked other friends, but he didn’t see them all the time. He had his rules and made sure everyone understood them before he worked them out of their clothes and did what he was so fucking good at.
He was a damn good Dom because he was observant though, and he’d caught White’s slip when he’d said his name while they were…
‘Don’t fall in love with me or anything, Bruiser. I’ll break your heart.’
Love. Screw that. Falling in love with Pisch was the fastest way to get him to fucking disappear. And no way was Ian gonna risk that. Not for sex.
Not for anything.
They’d had fun. Shared a hot chick. That was over and now things could go back to normal.
Then why are you still standing in the fucking hall?
He jabbed his hand into his pocket to grab the key.
The door opened, revealing Pisch with a smirk on his lips as he leaned against the doorframe. “Finally grew your balls back, Bruiser?”
Ian scowled, staring at the center of Pischlar’s bare, tattooed chest, because he couldn’t deal with that damn arrogance aimed at him. Not now. “I just came to get my comic book. I wasn’t sure if you were still sleeping.”
“It’s past noon.”
“Yeah, but you were out late last night at the club.” Probably fucking some cute little twink that some Domme—or Dom—had decided they wanted to share. Someone who wouldn’t get all fucking confused and imagine the man would want more.
Maybe Vanek again. He ground his teeth as he pictured the Dartmouth Cobra’s golden boy, Tyler Vanek, all small and wiry and in love with his Master and Mistress. Perfect for Pisch to play with.
You jealous?
He blinked at the weird little voice in his head he was sure had never been there before. He so needed to hack the source up into little pieces and bury it.
“Don’t think so hard, you’ll stress yourself out.” Pisch gave him a playful slap on the arm. “Come in. And don’t lie to me about why you’re here. You gave me that comic book as a peace offering.”
Yeah, I did. And he didn’t really want it back, but he couldn’t think of a better excuse, so screw it; he’d pretend he was desperate to get his hands on the damn thing. “I know, but I still haven’t read that one yet… Can I borrow it?”
“Sure.” Pisch’s brow creased slightly as he held the door open wide, waiting for Ian to pass. “Sorry for being an asshole. I thought you came to get laid.”
The laugh escaped Ian before what Pisch had said fully registered. He blinked, stopping with one foot over the threshold. He glared at Pisch. “Are you fucking serious?”
A careless expression smoothing all the lines on his face, Pisch lifted a shoulder. “Not that I’d mind, but I had to mess with you a bit. Keep things light.”
“’Course you did.” Ian made his way across the hall, heading to the kitchen to grab one of the beers from the case he’d bought last week. He twisted the cap, taking a few gulps since his mouth was suddenly fucking dry, and he couldn’t face Pisch yet.
This was why fucking Pisch had been the most phenomenally stupid thing he’d ever done in his life. He’d be shoved into the potential repeat fuck category. So long as he didn’t get too comfortable.
He liked how comfortable things had been before.
“Hey, I thought we were good. What’s eating at you, White?” Pischlar’s voice came from much too close. He touched the small of Ian’s back.
And Ian almost broke another tooth on the lip of the beer bottle. He took a deep breath and managed not to jerk away. Or move closer.
This man should be illegal without a damn prescription. One with a warning: Might cause fatal addiction.
His gaze went to Pisch’s bare feet first. Which was safe enough. He had a tattoo on one foot, barbed wire that looked pretty real, with 17 spikes and the words, ‘Keep moving, even when it hurts’ in long, elegant script.
Deep. Pisch’s tattoos were all full of meaning—most of which Ian didn’t get—and people who paid attention to them might see him as a sensitive man. But he wasn’t. Pisch was damn tough. Ian was tough himself, but he wasn’t sure he could deal with the pain of a needle jabbing into his damn foot.
“There a reason you’re not looking at me, man?” Pisch put his hand on Ian’s shoulder, turning him fully.
Giving Ian no choice but to meet his eyes. Eyes that were an odd green shade, like fog over the lush green prairies where he�
�d grown up near Winnipeg, Manitoba. Eyes that never missed a thing but hid so much.
Ian shrugged and glanced down at Pisch’s chest again. The man was freakin’ tight. Not bulging with muscles so much as carved with sharp definition; there was not a damn ounce of fat on him. Covered in wicked ink, multiple piercings in his ears and nipples, all badass and I-don’t-give-a-fuck attitude seeping from his very pores.
Ian had never lusted after a man in his life, but Pisch…Pisch wasn’t just any man.
He’s my best friend.
Forcing what he hoped was a smile to his lips, he brought his eyes back to Pisch’s face. “Just making sure you’re whole, buddy.”
Pisch smirked, like he wasn’t buying what Ian was trying to sell, then made a dismissive motion with his hand. “All good. So I’m guessing you don’t wanna talk about the fact we had sex?”
The beer, that had been going down nice and smooth with that last gulp, tried to drown him. Ian sputtered, coughing as the liquid hit his windpipe, handing Pisch his beer so he could cover his mouth while he hacked up a lung.
Gently rubbing his back, Pisch leaned close to whisper in his ear. “This would go so much easier if you admitted you wanted me.”
Fucking hell. Ian growled and latched onto Pisch’s forearms, shoving him against the counter by the fridge. The shock in Pisch’s eyes gave him some shallow satisfaction as he moved his lips close to the other man’s.
“You think anything about this is easy, Easy?” His whole body trembled, and he struggled not to drop his gaze as Pischlar’s eyes hardened. He’d tried to remind himself he was straight, so this thing between him and Pisch couldn’t happen. The confused emotions were new, and the playoffs were the wrong time to be exploring all this messed up shit.
Line Brawl: The Dartmouth Cobras #8 Page 1
