Defensive Zone (The Dartmouth Cobras #2)

by Bianca Sommerland

  And right now, he had a feeling she was getting in the way of her own happiness. He had a feeling he knew who she would choose—if she let herself.

  Might as well be blunt. "Do you want Landon?"

  "Landon? No!" She shook her head and whimpered as he slid his fingers up and over her clit. "We were friends. I didn't want to be more. I don't have many—okay, any friends, And I wanted to keep him."

  "So what changed?"

  "You know what changed." She tried to close her thighs and huffed. "Uck! Please, Dean! You're killing me!"

  What he saw between Silver and Landon didn't look like friendship to him, but maybe he was wrong. Either way, she did need Landon in her life. He pinched her clit hard and whispered in her ear. "I may have an idea, but I will hear it from you. You have exactly fifteen minutes."

  Lifting her head, she stared at the clock on the desk across the room. "What happens in fifteen minutes?"

  "I leave and you will stay here, unsatisfied until I return."

  "I'm quite capable of satisfying myself."

  He let out a gruff laugh as he slowly filled her with two fingers. "I'm sure you are, but you won't. Every time you touch yourself, you'll think of how it could be me, touching you, fucking you—"

  "You said you wouldn't fuck me." She whimpered as he stroked her, her juices spilling around his fingers as he found the spot that would give her a fierce orgasm, fully aware that he wouldn't let her come until she gave him what he wanted. "Dean—Ah!"

  Slipping out again, he toyed with her clit. Her cunt radiated heat and he hardened as he thought about how it would feel wrapped around him. His jaw clenched as he tamped down his urges and focused on teasing her to the brink, over and over.

  "I wouldn't fuck you when you still believe that was all I wanted from you." He pressed lightly on her windpipe, right under her chin. "But you know better now, don't you?"

  "Yes, but . . . ."

  "I could be fucking you now." He thrust in and out until her muscles rippled, telling him she was almost there. And stopped. "But I won't. And you only have five minutes left to decide whether or not I will leave you hanging."

  She groaned and dropped her head back onto his shoulder. "All right, you bastard, I'll tell you. Just please let me come!"

  "Oh no, that's not how this game works, my love." He fisted his hand in her hair and let out a low growl against her throat before biting down. Her hips bucked as he stabbed his fingers into her. "You'll come after you tell me what I want to hear."

  * * * *

  Silver shook her head and twisted her body, desperately seeking what she'd been denied. The way Dean held her made it impossible to move enough to find relief. She was powerless. At his mercy. And fuck, being tortured by him was hot.

  Part of her wanted to tell him to go to hell. She had all kinds of toys and she didn't need him. But damn it, she could already picture herself trying and getting nowhere. She did need him. And, more importantly, she'd wanted to tell him anyway. This way made it easier because she didn't have a choice.

  "I'll tell you!" She sobbed as his fingers left her, needing to get off so bad it hurt. And thinking of Landon hurt just as much—no worse, because pleasure wouldn't make that pain go away. Tears spilled down her cheeks as she forced the words out. "He hurt me! He just walked away . . . I don't even want to think about it! I know it's fucking pathetic, but I can't deal with him right now! I know I'll have to, eventually, but for now I just want him to leave me alone! I don't want to! Please don't make me!"

  "Oh, sweetheart. Shh . . . it's okay. I won't make you." Dean's grip on her hair loosened and his kissed her cheek. "Fuck, I didn't realize—I wouldn't have—"

  "Don't apologize!" She pressed her eyes shut and focused on the dwindling heat between her thighs. She'd told him. It was over. She just wanted her fucking reward. "Just finish it!"

  His fingers plunged in and his thumb pressed down on her clit. Her core erupted and she bit down on her tongue to hold back a scream. White flashed across her vision as her body shuddered uncontrollably and only his arms around her kept her from collapsing to the floor in a boneless mass.

  It seemed like hours passed before she could speak again, but one look at the clock showed her they'd just reached his fifteen minute mark. Her head lulled back into the crook of his shoulder as she peered up at him.

  "You're mean, you know that?"

  His forehead creased and he shook his head. "I wouldn't have pushed so hard if I'd known, Silver. I'm sorry."

  "Don't be." She closed her eyes and sighed. "I'm glad you made me tell you. I just wish I knew what to do about it. I can't avoid him."

  "Yes, you can. Let me speak to him—make him understand you both need time to sort this out."

  "You're asking me?" She clung to him as he stood and carried her to the bedroom. So what if it made her look like a damsel in distress. It was nice to feel like someone wanted to take care of her. "I mean, I figured you might want to talk to him, but I didn't expect you to ask my permission."

  "I'm not, little one. I was simply hoping I wouldn't have to force the issue."

  All tucked in, she shook her head and smiled. "You don't. I surrender."

  He laughed. "About time."

  "For now."

  His warm breath caressed her cheek as he bent down and kissed her. He stayed there, not moving until she opened her eyes. His lips curved slightly and his eyes crinkled. "For now is all I want, Silver."

  The darkness weighed down on her after he left, but she couldn't sleep. For some reason, his words haunted her. He'd told her he'd let her go. He'd accepted her teasing 'for now'. As if . . . as if he didn't expect this thing between them to last.

  Well, I've got news for you, Mr. Richter. She hugged a pillow to her chest and scowled at the door. I'm not going anywhere.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Tipping his beer to his lips, Landon nodded for Richter to sit. As the man took the seat across from him, Landon's gaze locked on the smudge of lipstick on his collar, hardly noticeable with his jacket done up as it had been during the meeting, but now, with his jacket draped over his arm, the peach smear might as well have been a florescent sign.

  Red flashed over his eyes and green rotted his insides until he got a grip. He refused to be jealous of Richter. At least he was taking care of Silver.

  Carter cleared his throat and rose from the chair beside Landon. "I'm thinking I don't need to be here. If you don't mind, I'm going to see when the red skirt gets off." He wiggled his eyebrows as he finished off the last sip of his beer. Then he lightly punched Landon's shoulder. "Make it fast and I'll save you some."

  "Don't bother." Landon ran his tongue over his teeth and focused on Richter, who'd gestured for the waitress to bring another beer. "See you in the room in a bit."

  Shrugging, Carter turned away and crooked his finger to the barmaid with the red skirt. She ducked her head, then held up one hand, mouthing 'Five minutes'.

  "I'm surprised you agreed to share a room with the kid." Richter watched Carter lean over the bar and shook his head as the barmaid moved in close to let him whisper in her ear. "He doesn't have many fans on the team."

  Landon laughed. "I don't see why not. He's passionate and he plays practice games the same way he plays real ones. The guys shouldn't let him get under their skin."

  "He asked Callahan if Oriana likes watching as much as Perron does."

  "He was just messing with him."

  "During a meeting. In front of all the men." Richter's brow shot up at Landon's chuckle. "You can't think it's appropriate for him to ask if Mason's ass is as tight as it looks?"

  Inhaling deep to keep his beer from shooting out through his nose, Landon shook his head. "No, but it was fucking funny as hell."

  "He's alienating himself from the team. That's not funny at all."

  Right. Because they're such a welcoming bunch. Landon set down his beer and clenched his fist beside it. "They don't like the way he acts on the ice. I get that he's a dirty
player, but that can work in our favor. Notice he doesn't have as many penalty minutes as Mason? Carter draws them by agitating the tough guys—"

  "He's a rookie, he's got to learn to play the game properly before he goes out there and starts pissing everyone off."

  "Why? He's getting the job done. You've got plenty of good little rookies who will do what they're told. He's talented and cocky, sure, but he can give us the edge we need. Tim doesn't have a problem with him."

  "True. But Tim might not be the head coach for long."

  Shit. If his own brother isn't safe, Carter certainly isn't. Landon drained his beer and inclined his head when the waitress rushed over to offer him another. And neither am I.

  "You didn't come down here to talk to me about Carter's play, did you?" Landon braced himself for the inevitable. He was either going to be made backup or sent down. Only . . . shouldn't Tim be telling him? "Just spit it out. It's awfully good of you to take the time out of your busy schedule to speak to me yourself."

  Richter rubbed his jaw and sighed. "Bower, you really should work on your confidence. From what I've seen you are an excellent goaltender. You will likely give us the edge we need. Tim has nothing but good things to say about you. Actually, when I asked how the men were taking to you, he brought up the fact that goalies are a breed apart and, so long as your performance remains consistent, your relationship with the other players doesn't really matter."

  Starting on his fresh beer, Landon nodded. "Well, there you go."

  "But I'm not here to speak to you about you making friends on the team. Or your performance." Richter frowned and leaned back in his chair. "I'm here to speak to you about Silver."

  "Ah . . . ." Landon took a few more gulps and tried to make his face go blank. So far, since the plane, he'd done a pretty good job not thinking about Silver. Carter helped by cracking him up with his commentary on the other players, and the hotel staff, and his numerous ex-girlfriends. The kid wouldn't leave him alone, which had annoyed him at first, until he realized the jabbering started whenever he went quiet.

  Carter knew something was bothering him. And had caught on that he didn't want to talk about it. Damn observant. He'll make some lucky sub a good Dom one day.

  Just not Silver. Because the man for her was sitting across the table from Landon, about to lay down the fucking law.

  "I shouldn't have spoken to her without your permission." Simple courtesy. Nothing Landon didn't know. But just saying it made him feel like he'd taken a rake to his guts. "I apologize. It won't happen again."

  Dean's hands slammed on the table and the waitress approaching them jumped and scurried away. "Damn it, Bower, it's not like that. At the club, yes, I'd appreciate it if you'd respect me as her Dom. But we're not at the club. I am asking you, as her friend, to understand that she needs some space."

  'As her friend'. Yeah, make that clear. "I do understand."

  "Good," Dean eased back into his chair. "You'll both be very busy, so it shouldn't be difficult. She's trying very hard to prove herself and so are you. Neither of you needs the distraction."

  "So noted." Landon held up his empty beer bottle in mock salute. "Now, if there's nothing else, there's an early practice and I should turn in." Should, but won't. "If you'll excuse me?"

  Before he could walk away, Richter stood and blocked his path. His lips formed a hard line as their eyes met. "She misses you, Landon."

  Landon? What the fuck? We friends now? He smirked. "Is that so?"

  "Yes. It won't take long for her to get past this. Now is not the time."

  "Can I ask you something?" He moved into Richter's space when he inclined his head. "Did she ask you to keep me away from her?"

  "Not exactly, no. I pressed the matter—"

  "Got it."

  Richter let out a sound of disgust. "Don't be an asshole, Bower. You hurt her."

  "Yes, I did." He cocked his head, about ready to laugh at the way the man acted like he had a fucking clue about what was going on between him and Silver. If I hadn't stepped aside, she'd be mine. "How long before you hurt her? Again. I can't be what she needs, and I get that. Hopefully we can be friends again. But one way or another, you better step up. Prove that I made the right decision—that you're as good for her as I think you are. If I was in your place, I wouldn't have politely requested that you stay away."

  "Really? So you'd choose her friends? I'm sure she'd take that well."

  "I wouldn't choose them." Damn it, he was so done with this conversation. Richter just didn't get it. "I'd just make sure she had better friends than me."

  "I see." Richter patted his shoulder and stepped past him, tossing back. "As I said before, you have to work on that confidence."

  The bar, the halls in the hotel, went by in a blur as Landon made his way to the elevator. He found himself in his room, not quite sure how he'd gotten there. All he knew was he had a minibar full to bring him to the numbness he craved. He took the small bottles out by the handful, glancing over his shoulder as he heard movement behind him.

  Carter held up a bottle of whiskey. "I come prepared."

  Landon sat back on his heels. "Where's your date?"

  "With her husband. Hopefully." Carter rolled his eyes. "Yep, I've got standards. She started bawling when I kissed her and we sat for a bit and talked. I could have gotten her, she's got a thing for hockey players, but when she mentioned her baby and how lonely she is when her man works overtime—hell, I'm a lot of things, but a home wrecker ain't one of them."

  "Your parents divorced?"

  "Uh huh. Obvious much?"

  "It's the only reason I see you turning away guaranteed pussy. You had a hard on for that girl all night and she looked ready to do you on the bar." Landon took the bottle from Carter and walked over to his bed to get comfortable. He took a few swallows, then handed the bottle back. "You do know if she wants attention, she'll find it."

  "Tying her up and dumping her in a cab seemed a little excessive," Carter said. "I did consider it though."

  Landon snorted. "You've been spending way too much time at the club."

  Carter nodded. "Maybe. Hey, speaking of the club—"

  "Let's not."

  "Come on. I've gotta know." Carter took a swig of whiskey, capped it, then set the bottle between his feet. "Why did you choose a cane? If you'd spanked her and told her she was a bad bad girl, she wouldn't be mad at you. You two could have—" He mimicked humping until Landon stood and took a swing at him. Falling off the bed, he burst out laughing. "Seriously, buddy, you know you want to!"

  "If I didn't like you, I'd murder you. Seriously." Landon retrieved the whiskey and went to the other side of the room where he'd be less tempted to crack it over Carter's head. "You could be fucking that barmaid now."

  "But it would be wrong."

  "Exactly. And if I'd punished Silver in a way that was at all sexual—if I'd taken advantage of her while she was vulnerable . . . ." And crying. You made her cry you son of a bitch. "I'm not the man for her, Carter, anymore than you are. It would have been wrong."

  "She wouldn't have taken the punishment from me, Bower." Carter dropped on his bed with a groan. "She took it to please you."

  Yeah, right. "She took it because she didn't want to be banned from the club."

  Carter snorted. "You sure are a dumb shit. Fine, you didn't want to fuck her, but you had to know she wouldn't appreciate being passed off."

  "I wasn't—" Landon's phone went off and he took it out of his pocket. He grinned, swaying a little as he answered. "Hey, sis!"

  "Oh, Landon." Becky sighed loudly into the phone. "I knew you'd be drinking."

  "You did?" When had his sister become psychic? He lifted the bottle and frowned at it. Empty. Damn. "You finished it all, you fucking lush!"

  "What?"

  "Not you, Becky. Carter," Landon said. "The rookie is wasted."

  Carter gave him a one finger salute.

  "Landon, tell me you're not getting plastered with one of the guys. I
t won't help." Becky went quiet. "You need to talk to someone."

  "Ah, hell. Now you're going to tell me I need a shrink?"

  "I think you need a shrink," Carter said.

  "Go fuck yourself."

  Nodding solemnly, Carter rolled off the bed and stumbled towards the bathroom. "Might as well. No one else is going to."

  Becky sighed again, returning his attention to the phone pressed against his ear. "No, I don't think you need a shrink—not that it would hurt you to speak to a professional. I was thinking . . . well, your girlfriend. Silver. She went with you guys, didn't she?"

  "She's not my girlfriend."

  "Then what is she?"

  Plopping down on his bed, Landon threw his arm over his face. Nosy big sisters were a pain in the ass. "She. Is. My. Friend."

  "Fine. She's your friend. You can still talk to her about it, can't you?"

  About it? What the hell was she talking about? He groaned as the room spun. "Becky, what are you talking about?"

  "Oh . . . ." She sucked in a harsh breath. "Nothing. Nothing at all. You should get some rest. From the sounds of you, you're going to need all day to sleep this off before the game."

  "Nothing my ass. Why would you—" The reason for his sister's call hit him like a puck going 100 mph. He sat up and swallowed. How the fuck could he have forgotten? Two years. Only two years and he was acting like it had never happened. "I have to go."

  "Shit, Landon I'm sorry!"

  "Don't be." He thrust off the bed and tripped towards the mini-bar. He needed to burn the images out of his head, and liquor usually did the job. Not all the time, but tonight . . . "Just do me a favor?"

  "Anything." Becky sounded on the verge of tears. "I'm so sorry, sweetie. I shouldn't have reminded you—"

  "I shouldn't have needed reminding." He tossed back a mouthful of tequila. Then rum. "Just . . . just bring some flowers to the grave, okay? I'll pay you back."

  "Don't worry about it." She paused. "Landon, I love you. And you know it wasn't your fau—"

  He couldn't let her finish. But he wouldn't upset her by arguing with her. "I love you too, Becky. Goodnight."