Defensive Zone (The Dartmouth Cobras #2)

by Bianca Sommerland

  "Yeah." A trigger went off in his head, breaking the dam of memories. His jaw ticked. He had to move. Had to walk before he did or said something he'd regret. His tone went rough as he stood and sidled past Carter. "Just one."

  Eyes straight, he strode down the aisle between the seats. A flash of golden waves stopped him short. Silver had her back to him as she climbed over Richter, giggling at his stern look. When she straightened, he blocked her path.

  "Hey." He glanced at Richter, who inclined his head. "Can we talk?"

  Her chin hiked up. "No."

  He blinked. "No? Just like that? I thought we were friends?"

  "I thought so too. Now I know better." She glared at him. "Can you please get out of my way, Mr. Bower?"

  Why the hell didn't you leave her alone? Give her some space, she'll get over it.

  If only that was true. He had a feeling, if he let her, she'd forget him.

  But he still got out of her way.

  * * * *

  The bathroom door clicked shut. Silver leaned against it and covered her face with her hands. Being with Dean had gotten so easy lately. His intensity still scared her sometimes, but the balance between their relationship, and their partnership in running the team, kept her from being overwhelmed. She had a feeling he was taking it easy on her, which made her lo-like him even more. Landon hardly ever crossed her mind.

  Liar.

  Okay, so she thought about him when he called, even though she never answered and erased his messages without listening to them. And for the past three mornings she'd stared at the packages delivered to her doorstep for about an hour before opening them. Then held them for another few minutes before tossing them in the trash. But they were just books. They weren't him.

  She missed him.

  You don't need two Doms in your life, Silver.

  Probably not. Hell, she wasn't sure she needed one. But she did know she needed one who'd take care of her after bringing her to that place where she felt exposed and fragile. She loved and hated feeling that way. Loved it because sex was fucking mind-blowing, mostly because it wasn't just a dick attached to some random man. It was Dean. And Dean looked at her like she was more than just a hot cunt.

  Hated it because if she hadn't been so exposed, Landon couldn't have hurt her so bad. He'd reminded her that no matter how hard she tried, she'd always fuck up, so why bother trying?

  All it would have taken was one word, one touch, hell, even if he'd looked at her the way he had all the other times she'd felt completely alone, in the way that said 'You've still got me' . . . . Out of everyone she knew, he was the only person she'd convinced herself would love her no matter what she did.

  You've seriously got to drop that word from your vocabulary. Love is just a word people use when they're stupidly wrapped up in someone. Landon doesn't love you.

  Not that she needed anyone to love her. Well, maybe Oriana, but that came with being sisters. And it would be nice if her kids loved her—no guarantees there, she was pretty sure out of the three kids, she'd been the only one who really loved her mother. And Daddy . . .

  Daddy loves the game.

  The game. Yes. If she focused on the game, she could ignore Landon.

  Inhale. Exhale. She straightened and looked in the mirror. Damn she was pale. One look at her and Dean would know something was wrong. She brought her hands up to her cheeks, pinching them for color. And noticed they were shaking. Bad.

  Her purse hung on her arm. Inside was something that would calm her down and make the rest of the trip go real smooth. She'd have the strength to stare Landon down without saying a word.

  She palmed the little vial and tipped it from side to side to watch the powder coat the glass.

  No.

  Before she could cave in and take the easy out, she stuffed the vial into the zipper compartment in her purse and zipped it out of sight. There were other ways to deal with this. Like talking to Dean.

  Oh yeah, there's an idea. 'Sir, I'm having trouble with another man'.

  She snickered and tried to picture Dean's expression. Her mind made it fierce, but then it changed into the one that made it okay for her to say she was scared. She bit her lip.

  Maybe she could talk to him after all.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  The plane shook with turbulence and the seatbelt light flashed. Dean frowned at Silver as half her vodka spilled on the front of her shirt and she giggled. This was her third and she was obviously feeling it. Which made it her last.

  "Silver, slow down." He put his hand over hers on the glass and helped her lower it to the cup holder. Then he buckled her in. "The men shouldn't see you like this."

  "Like this? What? Drunk?" She giggled again. "Oh, Dean, you have no idea. I'm not even close."

  Like hell you're not. He cut off her grab for her glass. "You wanted to say something before Tim asked to speak to me. What is it?"

  "Oh." Her gaze darted across the aisle. She started to turn, but then held herself in place with her hands gripped to the armrests. "I—"

  "Shut your fucking mouth, Carter! Seriously, you ever speak her name again and you'll be breathing through a fucking tube!"

  "Oh, chill out. I just said pregnant chicks are hot and she's got that glowy thing going for her. You worried it's not yours? I would be."

  Can't someone gag that kid? Dean glared at his brother, who shrugged. As long as they were stuck in their seat, Mason and Carter were on their own.

  "Carter, seriously?" Bower let out a tight laugh. "Mason, relax. He's just jealous. If a chick doesn't strip for a living, he doesn't know what to do with her. Oriana's a fine woman and we all know it."

  At Dean's side, Silver went perfectly still.

  "Yeah, the Delgado women are something else." Demyan leaned over his center aisle seat and shot Silver a wink. "And they've got some brains. Or I wouldn't be here."

  The men, scattered throughout the plane, grumbled, but none argued with him. Silver slid down as far as her seatbelt would allow. For a woman who enjoyed the spotlight, she certainly didn't look like she wanted it now. Of course, with how hard she was working to come off as professional, Demyan's blatant flirting was bound to make her uncomfortable. Perhaps he and the man should have a little chat.

  But not here. Actually, the plane wasn't really the place for any conversation that didn't directly relate to the game. Whatever Silver had to say would have to wait.

  Dean sighed and took her hand. "We'll talk after we land."

  She gave him a grateful smile. "I think that's a good idea."

  He inclined his head and relaxed into his chair. As his eyes drifted shut, he heard her shuffling through her bag. Through slitted lids, he watched her take out a Cosmo magazine.

  His lips quirked. "This is a business trip, Silver. You'll have plenty of time to catch up on the latest fashions at the hotel. If you're trying to make a good impression, you might want to find more appropriate reading material. Which is why I had you pack those books."

  Her grip tightened on the magazine. "You don't get to dictate my reading material, Dean."

  "It was a suggestion, sweetheart. Not an order."

  "Calling me 'sweetheart' isn't appropriate for work either." She said through her teeth before slamming the magazine back into her bag. After pulling out The Game, she plopped it open on her lap and gave him a 'happy now?' glare.

  He smiled with his eyes closed. "You're right, Miss Delgado. I apologize."

  "Good."

  "Ken Dryden was a goalie, you know. Vital to his team and complex—as goalies tend to be. I think this will give you some good insight into our Mr. Bower. He's quite the fan."

  "Dean?"

  "Hmm?"

  "Shut up."

  Dean chuckled, then drifted off to sleep.

  * * * *

  Most of the men were paired up in standard rooms with two king sized beds, but Dean had paid extra for a suite, wanting to make sure Silver was comfortable. If she'd objected to sharing with him, he wou
ld have left her the room and bunked with his brother, but thankfully, she simply walked in and plunked onto the sofa with a happy sigh.

  "Oh, this is perfect!" Tucking her feet under her, she smiled at him. "Classy hotel, a suite with a hot tub. Honestly, I thought we'd be crashing at some sleazy motel. I was fully prepared to be 'roughing it' for the next week."

  Dean tipped the porter and carted Silver's bags to the bedroom. "Sticking millionaires in a motel would be odd, don't you think?"

  "Maybe, but they're jocks. I figured they wouldn't care."

  "Some don't, but it's in our best interest to make sure they're reminded of their worth. We expect a certain level of conduct from them on the road—more than we'd expect from them at home. Having nice rooms to come back to before and after a hard game is a nice perk. Courtesy of the team. It gives us the right to come down on them if their behavior isn't above par, but it's not usually an issue." He went to the mini-fridge and took out two bottles of water. "The rookies may be a little overwhelmed by all this, but they've all been paired up with veterans. Trips like this bring the team closer."

  "That's good." She thanked him for the water and patted the cushion beside her. When he sat, she leaned against his side. "I'm glad you asked me to come."

  "I'm glad you agreed to." He kissed her hair and took a few gulps from his bottle, enjoying her presence and the companionable silence. But he only allowed himself a few moments. He still had to meet with the team and he didn't want to waste the short time they had alone. "So, you were saying . . . ?"

  She laughed and shrugged. "Oh, it was nothing really. I'm glad you made me read that book though, it—"

  "I didn't make you."

  "Whatever. The point is, I like it. Seeing that side of a player's life is interesting. And it's very well written. I used to think all jocks were stupid—no offense, but some seem like there's nothing more to them besides what they put into the game. This makes them seem more like normal people."

  Dean shook his head and brought a handful of her hair to his lips. Her fruity shampoo scent had faded, but he could smell her, fresh and sweet, an essence that was hers alone. "I'm sure there are prejudices about pretty blond actresses."

  "A few." She shrugged again. "But most of them are true when it comes to me. I dropped out of high school. I'm not that smart. And you'd be disgusted by some of the things I've done to get ahead in my career."

  He frowned and tugged at her hair until she was forced to look up at him. "No. I'm disgusted that you were left in a position where you felt you had to do those things. You're a very intelligent and creative woman, Silver. I used to think you were stubborn, but most of that is determination."

  Her face broke into a wide smile and her wide eyes glistened. "Thank you. That means a lot, coming from you."

  His chest tightened as she glowed with his approval. Damn it, for such a confident woman, she was so insecure. She knew she was beautiful. She knew men wanted her. But she didn't expect to be appreciated for more than what people could see.

  "You know how good it makes me feel that my opinion matters to you, love?" He took her face in his hands and pulled her up so he could kiss her. She melted into him and he gathered her into his arms, settling her on his lap. "We might not always agree, but I like that you challenge me and force me to accept that I'm not always right. I've been with many submissive women, and most, no matter how intelligent, how independent, are happy to take my lead. And I thought that was what I wanted until I met you."

  "Really?" She pulled out his tie and traced her finger along the blue and green pattern. "Should I remind you of that the next time you tell me no?"

  "Absolutely." He kissed her again and smoothed his hands down her back. She looked nice in her tailored skirt suit, but for the rest of their conversation, he needed her less buttoned up. "Now, why don't you go slip into something comfortable? I don't have much time before the team gets together, but I'd like to cuddle for a bit."

  She unfolded from his lap and stood, but hesitated in front of him. "Shouldn't I come too?"

  "I'll leave that up to you, but honestly, I think it would be better if you don't come to every meeting. You'll get a reputation as an intrusive owner and that's never good. The media feeds off things like that and the fans will start to blame you for everything that goes wrong with the team. It hasn't gotten out that I'm a partial owner and I'd like to keep it that way. As the GM, I'll take most of the heat and that's how it should be. I promise to discuss my decisions with you, but that's between us. As far as the press is concerned, all my decisions are made on my experience. They may question my every move, but not as much as they would if it came from you."

  "Okay, I can handle that." She pulled the pins from her hair and grinned as she shook it free. "I had a director like that. If we made suggestion for changes in dialogue, he'd act like it was all him. Some of the actors didn't like it, but I got what he was doing. If it was him calling the shots, it was considered his 'style'. If it was us, we were difficult to work with and any fallout could ruin us. Fine, he took all the credit, but he took all the risks too. And he was a good guy. If we made things better, he shared the spotlight."

  He caught her hand before she could slip away. And studied her face as he spoke. "Do you miss it? The life you led in Hollywood is very different from the life you have now."

  Her forehead creased as she turned her hand and laced her fingers with his. "Sometimes I do, but . . . I like this. I never felt real with all the cameras and the spotlight. All I had to do was smile pretty and read my lines. You expect more from me and . . . and it makes me want more from myself. On set I was someone who could be replaced. Here I'm not."

  "No. You're not." But damn, if she missed it, how long before an opportunity came up that would tempt her to go back? "I wish I could tell you to forget that part of your life, but you can't, can you? You still have an agent looking out for the right part, and if he or she finds one, you'll want to go."

  She stared down at their clasped hands and shook her head. "I don't know if I could. I'd want to, but for the first time, leaving would be hard."

  "Silver, if you're afraid to leave me, don't be. I'll always be here when you come back."

  "So you'd let me go?"

  He already felt her pulling away. Maybe she'd gotten an offer and hadn't taken it because of him. Or because of the team. It was good that she knew they needed her, but he wouldn't let anything hold her back. His little dragonfly, always skimming the surface of the pond. Damage her wings and she'd drown.

  "I'd let you go." He released her hand to prove his point. "Just swear to me you won't forget what's waiting for you."

  "I swear." She stared down at her hand, looking a little lost. "But . . . well, I haven't decided anything yet. So how about we not start saying goodbye. It's kinda depressing."

  Dean chuckled. "It is, isn't it?"

  "Yep." She put her hands on his knees and dipped down to kiss him. "Stay put. I'm going to get changed."

  After she disappeared into the bedroom, he rose from the sofa and stepped up to the window to look out at the glowing city skyline. He couldn't remember the last time he'd taken a trip for longer than a day or two for meetings with the GMs from other teams. It had probably been with his wife, who had insisted on at least four vacations a year and always complained when it was time to go home. She'd never been the domestic type, but he made enough money to hire a nanny and housekeeper so she didn't have to be. He'd done everything in his power to give her the freedom she'd obviously, desperately needed, but it hadn't been enough.

  He wouldn't make that same mistake with Silver.

  "I wish you didn't have to go." Silver came up behind him and hugged his waist. "I was looking forward to—"

  "I won't be long." He turned and angled her chin up with a finger. "But there is one thing I need from you before I leave."

  She gave him a sly smile. "Yes?"

  "The truth. You wanted to speak to me about Bower, didn't you?" He frowned w
hen she pulled away and shook her head. "Maybe I shouldn't go. I won't tolerate lies and making that clear is more important than anything I need to discuss with the team."

  "Not talking isn't lying."

  "And you think not talking is an option?" Without waiting for her answer, he hooked his arm around her waist and dragged her to the sofa. He sat with his thighs spread and pulled her between them, using his feet to open her legs wide. "Lace your fingers behind your neck, pet."

  She quickly obeyed, which shocked the hell out of him. Chest rising and falling with her quick little breaths, she leaned into him and whispered, "I thought you had to go?"

  "I do, but Tim can start without me." He slid one hand around her throat and dipped the other down the front of her bright pink boxer briefs to cup her pussy. "Talk to me, Silver."

  "There's nothing to—Oh!" Her pussy clamped around his finger as he thrust it in deep. She fought to close her thighs as he forced them further apart. "What are you doing?"

  "Interrogating my naughty little sub." He slicked her moisture over her clit, rubbing the little nub until the tip swelled from its tiny hood. Her hips jutted forward and he tightened his grip on her throat until she gasped and went perfectly still. "Let's start with an easier question. Was Asher and Cedric your first ménage relationship?"

  "My first . . . ? Ah! No!" She trembled as he gently massaged either side of her clit with his fingers. "I've only been in one monogamous relationship—when I was in High School. With a teacher."

  Dean swallowed back the urge to curse. Reacting to her confession was no way to get her to share more. His tone remained surprisingly level. "What happened?"

  "He was possessive. He hated it when I talked to boys my age. I felt smothered. I didn't want to leave him, but . . . ." She made a mewling sound as his fingers glided down and curled into her. "But I needed to be able to make the choice!"

  The choice. Yes, he could see that. Sometimes Silver needed her choices taken away from her, needed to be forced to surrender to her own desires—to actually feel something beyond shallow pleasure. But if she felt something for another man, being denied the opportunity to explore that would smother her.