Defensive Zone (The Dartmouth Cobras #2)

by Bianca Sommerland

  "We've got two more days before we head home, Silver." Dean kissed the top of her head. "I won't push you. Not this time, but—"

  "That's good to know." She stuck her fingers between his shirt buttons to toy with his chest hair. "I hate it when you're pushy and bossy and—"

  He pushed her onto her back and she stared up at him as his teeth flashed in a grin. His hands framed her shoulders as he leaned over her. "You hate it, do you?"

  "Mmmhmm." She squirmed as he lowered one hand to undo her pants. "Oh! Not out here!"

  "Yes. Right here." He made a rough sound in his throat as his fingers delved into her panties and slicked through her folds. "As I was saying." He shoved his fingers deep inside her and curved them forward. "You have until we get home to tell me what the 'unless' was."

  She panted as he stroked her up to climax and groaned as she considered his words. "Do I have to?"

  His head titled to one side and he smiled. "Yes. But shall I take a guess?"

  "Only." She gasped as he pressed in further. "If you." Her thighs trembled as he stroked that spot and red hot coils wound tighter and tighter inside her. "Don't stop."

  "I won't." He stretched out, half on her, half above her, his fingers still stirring and thrusting. Then he said softly, "you've only ever truly submitted to one other man, Silver."

  "I don't want to talk about him! Oh!" One last, lingering stroke and she couldn't have managed another word if she'd wanted to. Her hips bucked as she rode the sensation to the shuddering end.

  "All right, my little dragonfly." Dean gave her a hooded look as he brought his fingers to his lips and sucked them clean. "You can consider this conversation over."

  Why is that not at all reassuring?

  He didn't give her time to dwell.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  In the graveyard, Cimetière de Grande-Rivière in Gaspe, kneeling in the damp earth, Landon swept the dead grass away from the small, white marble plaque and brushed his fingers over the engraved words. 'Landon Bower Jr'. The birth date and the date of death were the same. His brow furrowed as he read the poem he'd had carved beneath it. A Dream Within a Dream by Edgar Allen Poe. His parents had tried to talk him out of using it, but—he lifted his head and smiled at his grandfather's tombstone, right beside his son's, where he could watch over him forever. His grandfather had read Landon the poem when he was too young to understand the meaning. He would have approved.

  "I never thought I wanted kids, LJ." His eyes stung and he coughed to clear the tightness from his throat. "But I wanted you."

  He clung to the only memories he had of his son. The ultrasounds he made sure were scheduled when he wasn't on the road. The kicks against his cheek when he sang to a swollen belly. And the day his son was born.

  The young nurse had tears in her eyes as she shook her head and reached out to touch his arm. "I'm so sorry. Would you . . . would you like a moment to say goodbye?"

  No air to speak, he'd just nodded, cradled the tiny blue bundle she placed in his arms, and pressed a soft kiss on the cold brow. If not for the color of his son's skin, he could have convinced himself he was sleeping.

  He'd managed to hold it together until the nurse took his son away. Then something inside him shattered. Right there, in the hall, his knees gave out. His father, who'd stayed close through the difficult labor, caught him. Embraced him tightly before telling him firmly that he needed to be strong. That his baby's mother needed him.

  A tear escaped and he let it fall. He focused on the phoenix at the top of the plaque, rising into flames straight from its shell. He couldn't say whether he believed in heaven, or something else, but he knew, without a doubt, that his son had gone on to something more.

  "Daddy was really stupid, kid." He shook his head and laughed. "I always imagine you're watching me play, cheering me on from wherever you are. But I went and got myself suspended." His lips curved into a rueful smile. "Then again, you're my kid. You probably didn't mind me going after that guy. Your great grandfather would have said I did the right thing too. I'll just have to make up for being gone next time I get on the ice."

  "I agree."

  He'd been so focused on speaking to his son that he hadn't heard Richter approach. They hadn't had a chance to speak since before the league had handed down his suspension. Tim was the one who told him to go home and get his head on straight. He had no idea how Richter had found him—probably Becky—but he didn't want him here. This was something he did alone, at least once a year. Even Becky and his parents wouldn't intrude on his time with his son.

  "What do you want, Richter?"

  "Why didn't you tell me? Or better yet, Silver." Richter took a step back as Landon rose. "You could have taken some time off to come down here and—"

  "I wanted him to see me play. He—" Damn it, the man was going to think there was something wrong with him. Not that he had to explain it, but for some insane reason he needed Richter to understand. He respected the son-of-a-bitch more than he could say. "This was my dream—playing pro. I gave up everything to get where I am today. If he'd lived I would—" Shit, he's not going to think I'm insane. He's going to think I'm an asshole. "I would have had to play on his birthdays. But he'd be okay with that, because he'd be so proud to see his daddy out there."

  Richter put a hand on Landon's shoulder and squeezed. "I'm sure he's very proud of you. And if it counts for anything, even though I hated not having you out there for the last few games, I'm damn proud of you too."

  "Shit, man." Landon's throat locked and he tried to pull away. Richter jerked him forward and barred an arm across the back of his shoulders. Landon snarled over a sob. "No one comes here when I visit. I don't want anyone to see me like this."

  "Too fucking bad." Richter thumped his back hard, then moved away. "You need someone to stop giving you what you want."

  "You're a pushy bastard." Landon rubbed his suit sleeve over his eyes, then shoved his hands in his pockets. "So, I take it you didn't come to give me shit about getting suspended?"

  "No. I came to see if you were all right." Richter had the grace to look away as Landon composed himself. "I love Silver and she cares about you very much. It would destroy her if something happened to you after she pushed you away."

  It should bother him that Richter had come because of Silver, but strangely enough, it didn't. He got it. He would have done the same in Richter's position. Besides the game, Silver was the one thing they had in common.

  "How is she?" His forehead creased as he thought back on the rag magazine his sister had shown him this morning. 'The Delgado princess, torn between two lovers'. "Are you sharing her with that asshole? I saw the pictures of you guys in LA. He was standing over her and she looked pretty freaked out. And you were just sitting there—"

  "I wouldn't share her with just anyone, Bower." Richter began to walk, then paused. "Do you need more time? I can meet you at your place later so we can discuss this."

  "Just give me a minute." Landon turned away and took a knee beside his son's plaque. He bent down and kissed the cool marble. "Bye, LJ. I'll come back as soon as I can. I hope you know Daddy loves you so so much."

  He joined Richter and they made their way down the long path to the parking lot. Halfway there, he gave Richter a sideways glance.

  "Whatever you wanted to discuss must be pretty important to take you away from preparing for the season," Landon said. "So have at it."

  "I came for the reasons I said, Bower." Richter jaw tensed. "Silver needs to know you're okay. She needs you."

  "She has you."

  "So you're just going to let her go? Does she mean so little to you?"

  Landon really wanted to knock the man down a fucking peg or two. Who the hell did he think he was? "I'll never let her go. I'm giving her the space she needs—that you asked me to give her. But after that, I'm sticking around. So you better get used to it."

  Richter chuckled. "I wouldn't have it any other way. As I said, I won't share her with just anyone. But
I will share her with someone who's got half of her heart, who cares enough about her to show her how special she is. Someone willing to fight for her. Someone willing to stick around."

  The man had to be bat shit fucking crazy. Landon stopped at the edge of the parking lot. "You want to share her with me? How do you know I won't take her away from you?"

  "Because you love her as much as I do, you stupid asshole." Richter grabbed the lapel of Landon's jacket and let out a low, feral sound. "You wouldn't do that to her. At least you better not."

  "I gave her to you." Landon wrenched free and his lips curled away from his teeth. "What is it, you're not enough for her?"

  "Coming from the man who decided, without even asking, that he couldn't be enough, that's pretty fucking rich," Richter said. "Me and Silver could be happy together, but I can't bear looking at her and seeing the regret. Who knows how long it will last, she's not the type to be tied down, but while she's mine, I will see her truly whole and cherished as she deserves to be. If I'm only a memory, it will be a good one."

  Landon shook his head, confused. "So you're asking me to stick around, but you're ready to let her go in the end."

  "Yes."

  "Well, I'm not." He inhaled as some weight inside him lightened a bit. Then he groaned and rubbed his hand over his face. "Why are we even discussing this? She's not even speaking to me."

  "She will." Richter slapped his shoulder. "You're doing a scene with her Saturday night. You promised to teach me how to use the wand."

  "She won't submit to me. Not after—"

  "She doesn't need to." Richter smiled. "She'll submit to me. Besides, I agreed to teach you too."

  Pulling out his keys, Landon stared down at his shoes. "I won't use the whip on her. I've hurt her enough."

  "Yes. You have," Richter said. "But I have other things to teach you."

  "Like what?"

  "Lesson one. A good Dom never stops learning. Keep that in mind. I won't let you touch her if you think you're above improving yourself."

  "You're telling me things I already know." Landon ground his teeth together, hating the feeling that this man could give him the opportunity to get close to Silver, and take it away on a whim. "I'm not above learning."

  "Good." Richter smiled. "I'll see you Saturday."

  I'll see her Saturday. Landon watched Richter walk away, then turned to his own car. As the engine purred, he held on to the steering wheel. Why or how didn't matter. He'd see her.

  I'm getting a chance to set things right. He glanced back at the graveyard and steeled his resolve. Sometimes, people didn't get a second chance. But now he was getting one.

  And damn it, he'd make it count.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  The chair creaked as Silver slumped forward on her desk. Finally home, but there had been so much to do she hadn't even unpacked. A Post-it note stuck to her cheek as she lifted her head just enough to see the clock hanging over the door in her office. Quarter after six. Her meetings were done for the day. She could leave.

  Uck, I don't want to move.

  Maybe she should just sleep here.

  A soft rap at the door and Dean appeared. He took one look at her and practically growled. "That's quite enough. You're taking tomorrow off."

  She plucked the Post-it off her cheek and crumpled it into a tiny ball. Tossed it. It landed on the edge of her desk. "First of all, Mr. Richter, we're still at work. So stuff your orders up your shit hole. Second—" A yawn cut of her words. "I was just about to leave. But I'm not taking tomorrow off. Friday, then the weekend. I can manage one more day."

  "Stubborn." Dean shook his head. "Fine. Can I walk you to your car, Miss Delgado?"

  "Certainly." She gave him a tight smile and stood, holding onto the edge of the desk when the weight of her head threatened to tip her over. "Oh, stop looking at me like that. I'm younger than you are." She stuck out her tongue. "I can take it."

  His lips curved into a spine-chilling smile. "Can you? We'll see."

  The tiny bite of fear woke her up enough to get down the hall and into the elevator. Trapped in there with him, she kept close to the wall and eyed him warily. But the smile was gone and he hadn't made a move. When the elevator doors opened to the garage, she stepped off and let out the breath she'd been holding.

  Then screamed as he hefted her up and threw her over his shoulder.

  "Put me down!"

  "Work hours are over, pet." He smacked her ass twice, hard, on the way to her car, then sat her on the hood. "Be good and stay there."

  She hopped of her car. "Like hell I will!"

  "Silver." His sharp tone locked her in place. "Strip. Then kneel."

  Here? She glanced around nervously, but didn't even consider disobeying. Her mind had gone to that place, the one where she didn't really need to think, where she could just do. Good things happened when she went to that place.

  Naked. On her knees. She waited.

  He went to his car, parked beside hers, and opened the trunk. Her pulse quickened, but she kept waiting. And was rewarded with a smile when he returned.

  She almost melted into a puddle right there on the pavement. Moisture slicked the insides of her clenched thighs.

  "You get one choice, then not another word." He continued as she nodded. "My place or yours."

  Her big cushy bed or his firm one in the house he shared with his daughter? Easy enough. "Mine."

  "All right." He held up what he'd gotten from his car. Duct tape. He shook his head as she sputtered. "No. It's time for quiet now, little dragonfly." He ripped off a piece and covered her mouth with it. "Stand up."

  The tape went around her wrists. Another length bound her ankles.

  He observed her with a satisfied smile. "You do realize I can do anything I want to you now, don't you?"

  A muffled whimper escaped. She nodded.

  "Do you trust me?"

  Another nod.

  "Good. Very good, Silver." He picked her up and put her in the backseat of his car. After climbing in behind the wheel, he leaned over the seat and studied her. "You know, you're beautiful like that, but I don't think we'll be using gags often. You'd be begging me to take you now if you could. I miss hearing that."

  Need reached a boiling point in her veins as he drove and she glared at the back of his head. It was good that he'd restrained her. She really wanted to hurt him right now.

  Shortly after, he carried her into her condo, unlocked the door with the key she'd given him the day before. He brought her right to her bed and then set her down gently. Before ripping the duct tape off her lips.

  "Ow! Damn you!" She wiggled into a sitting position. "What happened to the nice guy I met on the trip?"

  "You won't listen to 'the nice guy'."

  "But I'll listen to the fucking sadistic bastard?"

  "Maybe." He grinned and patted her cheek. "Sleep in. Go hang out with your sister tomorrow. Take it easy." He chuckled when she scowled. "Stop that, pet. I'm too tired to punish you. And I want us both well rested for the club on Saturday."

  "You should have just said so." She pouted, not really giving a damn about looking childish. The whole kidnapping scenario had almost been fun. But he'd ruined it by pulling her back into independent woman versus head case mode. "What if someone had seen us?"

  "Someone did." He smirked. "Callahan and your sister were in the parking lot."

  "Asshole! You had me strip in front of them? I swear you've got mouse turds for brains."

  His hand latched on to her chin. "Next time you speak to me like that I'll stick something nasty in your mouth."

  "Promises, promises."

  He snorted. "You're going to keep pushing me until I punish you, aren't you."

  Suddenly exhausted, she shook her head. "No."

  "Good. Then let me ask you something." He moved away from the bed and crossed his arms over his chest. "How far do you want to go with this? Are you willing to truly submit to me? Fully?"

  "All the time?"
<
br />   "Not all the time. But when we're alone, or at the club. Do you trust me enough to explore that side of yourself with me?"

  There was that intensity again. But it didn't scare her anymore. She answered without hesitating. "Right now I hate you almost as much as I love you. But I do trust you. So . . . yes."

  "All right." He climbed onto the bed behind her and freed her wrists. "Between now and Saturday night, you are going to do exactly as I say. Pamper yourself. Relax. But don't forget, your pleasure is mine."

  "What?"

  "You don't come unless I allow it. And if I'm not around, you can assume you do not have my permission."

  "But . . . ." She pressed her thighs together and groaned as her core throbbed. "Tonight . . . ?"

  "Tonight I'm going to tuck you in and you are going to go to sleep. If I stay you're going to tempt me to either punish you, or make love to you. For the first time in my life, I don't trust my own restraint. I'm actually relieved that you chose your place." He put his hand flat between her breasts and pushed her onto the bed. Then he tugged the blanket up to her chin. "Tomorrow you will tell me about your day when I call you. Saturday I will pick you up, bring you to my house, cook you the best meal you've ever had, then prepare you for the club."

  "Prepare me?"

  "The only answer I need is . . . ?" He arched a brow.

  She sighed. "Yes, Sir."

  "Sleep tight, my love." He kissed her forehead and reached over to turn off the lamp by the bed. "I swear to you, this will all be worth what I have planned."

  Staring at the ceiling, she heard the door close softly and the lock click. He fingers twitched as she brought her hand to her belly, letting it inch lower and lower until the tips of her fingers found moisture. But she couldn't go any further.

  Curled up on her side, she willed herself to sleep and watched the minutes turn to hours on her digital clock. By the time darkness took over, her lips were sore from frowning.

  Worth this? She clenched her thighs and pressed her erect nipples into the cool side of the sheets. Mister, it better be.