“If you’re not here in twenty minutes, and I have to come get you and miss part of the game, I will not be happy.” Chicklet chuckled. “See you soon, honey.”
The call ending got Sam moving. Chicklet was the last person she wanted mad at her. She seemed to kinda sorta like Sam now, and that was good. Damn essential at this point.
Within fifteen minutes, she was climbing out of a cab in front of Chicklet’s house. The place didn’t look that big from the outside, but she and her men and Laura had plenty of room. The house sat on the corner of the street, on the edge of downtown Dartmouth, close enough to the harbor for a good view, but not so close that the tourists got annoying.
Dartmouth was a cool place to live, but…part of her still felt like she was visiting. She could stay as long as she wanted, thanks to her mom being born in Ontario and her grandparents still living in Hamilton. She hadn’t thought she had dual citizenship, but Sloan had looked into it and apparently she’d had it since she was a kid.
Which worked, since she had no idea where she’d end up. Here was as good a place as any for now.
It was a bit cold outside, but Sam hated wearing even a light coat after all the snow melted. Of course, that meant she was standing outside after ringing the doorbell, shivering in her practically transparent, loose black sweater, wearing nothing but a tank top underneath. Her leggings and her knee high Doc Martens kept her legs warm, but her tits were turning to ice under her lace bra.
She really had to start dressing better for living this close to the ocean. Was it ever gonna get warm?
The door opened, and Chicklet waved her in, shaking her head as she looked Sam over, closing the door behind her. “I can’t even…what are you wearing, girl?”
Not enough. She shrugged, hiking her chin up. “Clothes?”
“Uh huh. You brought a ripped shirt and leggings to change into after your shift at the bar? Do you need help getting new clothes?”
Sam’s face blazed with humiliation. She knew her style was weird, but it suited her. Once, she would have gotten all mouthy, maybe called Chicklet old and made a smart-ass remark about her clothes, but that wouldn’t make the woman want to help her.
Besides, Chicklet looked damn good, older woman or not. In her fitted jeans and a snug white Cobra’s T-shirt, she was casual and well put together all at once. She seemed almost ageless, and her confidence made Sam feel like a frumpy kid.
“These are new, but…well maybe I should change up my style a bit.” Sam blew a stray bit of blood red hair away from her lips. “I don’t want to dress all cutesy…unless Ian’s into that?”
“Ian? Oh, honey, you don’t need to dress up any special way for White. He’s not fussy.” Chicklet grinned and put her hand on Sam’s shoulder to lead her to the living room. Raif was sitting on the sofa with a massive dog sprawled beside him, his entire focus on the announcers. Well, their voices anyway. The TV was turned up very loud.
Eyes on the dog, Sam lifted her shoulders. The dog was watching her, its tail wagging, but it didn’t move away from Raif.
Maybe it wouldn’t attack her. She hoped not, because that dog could tear her into little pieces. She wasn’t scared of dogs…exactly. Cats were just a lot easier to deal with. They didn’t jump on people and lick them and bark and…
All right, fine. She just wasn’t a dog person.
Chicklet looked from her to the dog, one brow lifted. “Thora won’t hurt you. Do you want to pet her?”
“Do I have to?” Sam ducked her head when Chicklet rolled her eyes. Across the room, Raif stroked the dog’s back, still mostly focused on the announcers, but he was frowning now. Damn it, she couldn’t lose the only people willing to help her because the dog made her nervous. She chewed on her bottom lip. “Umm…she won’t jump on me, will she? Because if she does, she’ll break me.”
Raif laughed. “No, draga, she won’t jump on you. Come.”
Oh good, he’s not mad. She still didn’t want to get too close to the dog, but she trusted Raif. He would control his new pet.
As she approached, Raif reached out, pulling her wrist gently until she knelt in front of the sofa, facing the dog. He lifted her hand to Thora’s muzzle. The dog’s fur was soft, and as Sam petted her, she didn’t move at all. She panted a little, her tail still wagging.
“See? She only looks big and scary.” Raif’s brow furrowed. “She…”
He didn’t actually know what she looked like. Chicklet or Tyler, or maybe Laura, had probably told him, but that wasn’t the same.
Sam blinked fast, forcing a smile when Chicklet put a hand on her shoulder. Chicklet’s expression wasn’t hard to read.
Don’t make this worse for him.
“She doesn’t look scary at all. I’m just a wimp, but she’s putting up with me anyway.” She’d kept her tone level, but Raif still didn’t look happy. She leaned closer to the dog, laughing as Thora licked her face. Kinda gross, but the dog was sweet and seemed to mean a lot to Raif. So she’d put up with the slobber. “I think I’ve been accepted.”
“You have.” Raif relaxed back into the sofa, smiling now. “The second period is starting in a moment. Sit with us—we can discuss your issues with White during the next intermission.”
Nodding, Sam took the small spot left at the other side of the sofa, while Chicklet settled into the armchair. Both Chicklet and Raif were very focused on the game. Sam tried to follow what was going on, but other than the game being tied at one, she wasn’t sure if the team was doing well.
She winced when Chicklet cursed and slammed her fist on the arm of the leather chair. “Perron needs to sit the next shift. Where the fuck is his head? I’ve never seen his passes this sloppy.”
Digging her nails in her palms, Sam tried not to consider exactly what Max Perron’s problem was. He’d been forced to leave his son and was playing distracted. Even with how little she knew about the game, she could see the hesitation in his every move. Heard the guys yelling for him to keep his head up.
What if his son proved to be too much of a distraction? Started affecting the way he played to the point that he had to choose between his place on the team, and the baby?
He’d choose the baby, right?
You didn’t choose him.
Wrapping her arms around herself, she tucked her feet under her butt and paid a bit more attention to the game. The name on the back of one jersey had her sitting forward and holding her breath.
Her brother was good at this hockey thing, right? The way he moved with the puck, dodging big bodies, told her he had some serious skills. She rose to her feet as he neared the goal.
“Shoot! Shoot!” She groaned when he snapped the puck across the ice. “No!”
“Yes!” Chicklet jumped up, pumping her fists in the air. “That’s our boy! Raif, Tyler just scooped up a damn fine pass and tucked the puck in right behind the goalie! Cobras are leading!”
A brilliant smile split across Raif’s face. “I knew he could do it.”
The excitement got to the dog, and she hopped off the sofa, running between Chicklet and Raif, letting out excited little whines. She rose up on her hind legs as the intermission started and Raif stood.
“Let’s get you outside to get rid of some of that energy.” Raif didn’t move, but Thora ran into the hall. And returned with what looked like a harness. She nudged Raif’s hand with it and he took to a knee, feeling the straps and slowly working them onto the dog.
Chicklet slipped past Sam and crouched beside Raif. “Let me—”
“I can do it.”
“Okay. Just let me know if you need help.” Chicklet straightened, never taking her eyes off Raif, her jaw tensing as he struggled to straighten the harness. The tension left her when he finally got it on right, and Thora led him outside. She rubbed a hand over her face and dropped back into her chair. “Men can be fucking impossible. I’m lucky, I have two good ones, but you’ve got a rough road ahead of you. Sit and tell me all your troubles, little girl. Not sure why you’
re having problems with White already. The man is as straightforward as they come.”
“He is. And he was. Which is why I’m worried.” Sam felt silly laying it all out there. She’d known Ian for one night, but she really saw them building something good together. Better than anything she’d ever had before. So she told Chicklet everything. From how they’d had sex in the alley, Ian thinking she was a virgin, and what had happened when he found out she wasn’t.
By the time she was finished, she expected Chicklet to be looking at her with disgust.
Instead, the older woman regarded her with intense interest. “What do you want from him, Sam? Don’t think about it, just answer.”
“I want to be the kind of girl he needs. He’s amazing and sweet, and I don’t think I deserve the chance I’m getting with him. But I have it, and I want to see if we can keep this going.” She took a deep breath. “He’s into the same stuff you and Laura and Raif and Tyler are, right? Can you teach me how to be submissive for him?”
Chicklet shook her head.
And all Sam’s crazy dreams turned to dust.
I should have known. Chicklet doesn’t really wanna help. She likes Ian, and I was only good for a little bit. Not long term.
“I don’t miss being so young that everything is the end of the world. Sam, look at me.” Chicklet braced her hands on her knees, holding Sam’s gaze as she leaned forward. “I don’t think there’s anything submissive about you. You could probably play at being one for a bit, for the right Dom, but you wouldn’t get much out of it.”
“But I want to try!”
“Because you think that’s what he needs. Which is sweet, but all wrong. White isn’t a Dom. If he and Pischlar are getting serious, he’s likely exploring the scene as a submissive himself. He might think he’ll eventually become a Dom, but I imagine he’ll be very comfortable giving up control.” Chicklet’s brow furrowed. “Pisch cares about him. Maybe even loves him. But he doesn’t want commitment. And I can see White needing it, eventually.”
“I can give him that.” Sam scowled when Chicklet’s lips quirked up. “I can. Yes, I like flirting, but that’s because I was single, so why not?”
“True. But if he needs to give up control, can you take it?”
Take him doing that with other people? She shrugged, not too worried. If he wanted to get his freak on with someone like…well, like Chicklet, or Raif, she’d be fine with that. Neither of them would try to push her out of his life.
Shawn Pischlar, the man who’d accepted her ‘challenge’, would.
“When he mentioned being in an open relationship, it didn’t bother me. I don’t need to be fooling around with all kinds of people, but it would be fun to go to some kinky parties and just like…go wild!” She could see Ian kissing other guys, and girls, completely free to take whatever pleasure he could find. While she did the same. “But Shawn doesn’t like me.”
“He doesn’t know you. Don’t worry about him for now. His relationship with White is between them. You can only work on yours.” Chicklet cocked her head. “I think you missed what I was asking though. Do you think you could take charge? Does the idea of being in control turn you on?”
The question had her thinking back on when she’d dragged Ian into the alley. He would have waited. He’d wanted to take her somewhere better, but she’d been so worked up, she’d refused.
Her body hadn’t been ready, but she had. And part of the appeal had been having a man willing to give her whatever she asked for.
“I was in control.” Her whole body was hot, as hot as it had been in that alley. She would give anything to feel that way again. “I liked it.”
“Interesting.” Chicklet tapped her fingers on her chin. “You’re a mess, so I would suggest you get yourself in a better place before you dive in too deep, but with some work, you might make a good Domme.”
Eyes wide, Sam stared at Chicklet. “A Domme? Really?”
Chicklet laughed. “Yes. I can picture White as a sub. He’ll have fun with Pisch, until Pisch gets bored. He’s still learning, so your inexperience might not be an issue. So long as you’re willing to learn.”
“I am!”
“Good. And I’m willing to teach you. If your brother isn’t going to the club this weekend, I say we start there.” Chicklet’s eyes shone with pleasure, as though the very idea pleased her. “Most of the Dommes I’ve met are boring. There are some great ones out there, but locally? Mostly just chicks that think it makes them better women if they’re spitting in their man’s face while he’s on his knees. There are two at the club that I respect. I’ll introduce you to them. They’ll give you some good pointers and watch over you when I can’t.”
Am I really doing this? Sam tried to picture the Dommes she’d seen in porn, the ones she’d read about. They were surreal. Got off treating their men like dirt. Putting them ‘in their place’.
Even that had been kinda hot, but not what she wanted. She didn’t want Ian kissing her boots.
But kneeling for her? Waiting for her to tell him how he could please her?
Fuck yeah!
“I see you like the idea. Good. You’ll have to prove you have more control over yourself, but if you’re dedicated, if this is something you need, maybe you’ll lose some of those self-destructive tendencies.” Chicklet glanced over at Raif as he stepped into the room. “My man likely won’t mind showing you how to handle your boy.”
Raif’s brow shot up. He stopped in the middle of taking off Thora’s harness. “Her boy?”
“White. I know he’s caught your interest, and I’ll be training Samantha as a Domme.”
Shaking his head, Raif tried to set the harness on the table. He scowled when it hit the floor. “White has a Master.”
“He has a playmate. He deserves more, and she’s willing to give it to him.”
“Is she?” Raif didn’t sound sure. “What if he and Pischlar become more serious? Is she willing to accept another Dom? To share?”
“I don’t have a problem with Shawn. He doesn’t like me, but maybe we can get past that.” Sam doubted it, but everything they were talking about was unconventional. If Shawn saw her making the effort to give Ian what he needed, maybe he wouldn’t feel so threatened. “I want to do this. Please tell me I’m not being stupid.”
“Not stupid, draga. Naïve.” Raif returned to his spot on the sofa with Thora, just as the third period was about to begin. “Power exchange is complicated. Open relationships are even more so. You are very young. I find it hard to believe you know what you want.”
“I want Ian.”
“You want him now. This is exciting and new.” Raif reached over Thora, feeling along Sam’s arm until he found her hand. He let out a soft sigh. “I am not saying I won’t help you. But I will reserve judgment until I see what this is worth to you. What he is worth.”
That she could understand. Raif was Ian’s friend. His teammate…even though he couldn’t play anymore.
And she really wasn’t sure how much she had to offer. She didn’t want to get obsessed with hockey, like some of the chicks dating players. She didn’t want to go to all the games, and talk about the game all the time, and pretend she cared if the Cobras made the playoffs.
But she would listen to whatever Ian wanted to talk about. Support him as much as she could.
He was the first good guy who’d ever wanted her.
And she needed to keep him.
Whatever the cost. He was worth it.
Chapter 16
Justina was in way over her head. She wasn’t sure she should be here at all.
But the fact that Sahara had included her in the frantic ‘Please help me!’ text had her determined to figure out a way to be useful.
She just wasn’t sure she had the experience to deal with a raging teen and a toddler on his worst behavior, taking cues from his big sister.
The apartment Sahara was ‘kinda’ sharing with Dominik Mason, her boyfriend, was a mess. There was food everywhere.
And apparently the place hadn’t looked like this when Mason left, so Sahara was freaking out.
She needed everything to be perfect when he came home. She’d told him she could manage his two new wards, the siblings of a rookie he’d be watching over on the road. A rookie the coach had decided he should mentor.
Heath Ladd, who had a sister who’d just hit her teens, and a brother who rarely spoke to anyone. Bran was adorable. Looked like a tiny version of his brother.
And loved his brother very much. Apparently, he’d done all right without his brother for almost a year. But now that they’d reconnected, the poor little boy couldn’t accept that he wouldn’t see his big brother for days.
He wouldn’t eat. He threw anything Sahara put in from of him.
And his big sister, Kimber, wasn’t helping.
When Justina had shown up with Jami, Akira, and Ford, Sahara and Kimber had been in the middle of a screaming match. If Bran refused to eat, Kimber wouldn’t either. And it was apparently Sahara’s fault. She couldn’t make the right food. She was trying too hard, but not enough. And, by the way, she wasn’t their mother.
Within seconds of walking down the hall to the apartment, Justina just wanted to give Sahara a big hug. Kimber might be going through a rough time, but the things she’d said to Sahara?
She wasn’t being fair.
Teenage girls weren’t ‘fair’ though. But maybe an intervention would help. Kimber had gone quiet when they’d stepped into the apartment. Then she’d disappeared into her room.
The consensus was to give her a few minutes. Justina and Akira started cleaning while Jami made Sahara sit and talk with her at the dining room table.
Ford went to the living room to get Bran to calm down.
So far, it didn’t seem like he was having much luck. Justina used a rag to scoop a pile of spaghetti off the kitchen table, listening to Bran sob as Ford held him, speaking softly.
“I know, buddy. You miss your brother.” From where the table was set up, Justina could see Ford on the sofa with Bran. “Do you want to watch a bit of the game? Last time I checked, our boys are winning. Heath almost scored!”
Line Brawl: The Dartmouth Cobras #8 Page 18
