Defensive Zone (The Dartmouth Cobras #2)

by Bianca Sommerland

  "Do you have anything for it?" She blinked. "Your cane! Oh my god, how could I have forgotten? Why aren't you using it?"

  He frowned. "Because I hate the stupid thing." His lips quirked. "Unless I'm using it on a mouthy little sub's butt."

  "Can't see you doing that if you can't stand up straight. You'd get in what? One hit? Maybe two?" Silver folded her arms over her bare breasts. "If you're going to beat me, at least make it worth my while. Now please tell me you have pain meds."

  "I'll get the cane," Landon said.

  The young Dom, such a stickler for protocol and discipline, with just enough experience to know what he was doing, but not enough to bend into a full time relationship, had surrendered. What hope did Dean have?

  He brought Silver's hands up to his lips and kissed her fingers. "They're in the cabinet above the stove."

  Her expression softened. She quickly went to get him his meds and a bottle of water from the fridge. Then she sat across from him, watching him as though she didn't trust him to take the painkillers if she looked away.

  After popping the pills into his mouth, he washed them down with a few gulps of water. Smiled at her.

  She frowned at him. "Don't ever do that again."

  "I won't." He held still, then exhaled heavily when she grinned. "You're quite a force, little one." He accepted his cane from Landon and laughed. "Little piece of advice, goalie. Don't piss her off."

  Landon pulled Silver to her feet and hugged her from behind. "Don't I know it."

  Silver shot an impish grin at Landon over her shoulder, then back at Dean. "So long as you two know your place."

  Dean barked out a laugh. Oh, he knew it. And for once, he saw Silver not as a woman he'd eventually have to let go, but as a woman who wouldn't let go of him.

  Funny how she'd flipped things on him. He didn't know how things would be a year from now, or ten years from now. But he had a very good feeling all three of them would be there to find out.

  * * * *

  Silver drove Dean to work, but Landon decided he needed some exercise and ran the distance. Crazy man. Still, she couldn't help but wonder if he'd done that to give her and Dean some time alone.

  "So what do you have planned for the day?" Dean asked as he walked her to her office, leaning heavily on his cane. He'd ignored her suggestion to go to his own office and take the weight off his knee.

  And she was stubborn? She wrinkled her nose as she answered his question. "I've got to convince five more guys to pose for the magazine I hooked up with. I've already got Scott and . . . "

  His brow shot up. "Sebastian? He really makes you uncomfortable, doesn't he?"

  "Not as much as before. It's just . . . the way he talks . . . ." She rubbed her arms as a chill skittered along her flesh. "He was the first man I even considered submitting to. It was almost like I couldn't help it."

  "Oh, sweetheart." He opened his arms and she leaned into him, feeling safe as she always did when he was around. He stroked her back and spoke softly. "It will be different now. Trust me. He's a good Dom and he knows you're with me. If his reputation is anything to go by, he'll keep a respectful distance. At work, you're the team's owner. At the club, he'll expect you to treat him like any other Dom. But not like your Dom." He tipped her chin up with a finger. "Understand?"

  "I think so." For a split second, she wanted to ask him to come with her to lay siege on the men. It would be easier for him to convince them to get in front of the cameras. But she wouldn't. This was her job and she'd manage just fine on her own. "See you around lunch?"

  "I look forward to it." He kissed her and slowly moved away, his spine stiff as he made his way down the hall, obviously trying not to limp.

  It took everything she had to leave him and go into her office to collect her things. She wanted to stay with him, make sure he was okay, but he wouldn't appreciate that any more than she would in his position. So she grabbed her files and checked the clock. Then groaned.

  The players wouldn't show up for practice until 9. Which meant she had an hour with nothing to do but sit here and try to figure out how the hell she'd handle them. She slumped into her chair and flipped open the file. The magazine had requested certain players, not including Scott and Sebastian, which made thing a bit easier because the editor had faxed her Friday to tell her either, or both, would be perfect.

  Which left her with five players who'd refused to commit. Carter had been all for it at first, but had pulled out after he healed enough to face that his scars wouldn't fade much more. Christ, he was still a damn good looking guy, but he'd turned down all interviews and still wore a full cage mask on the ice.

  Of course, there was one other man on the list, who was quite comfortable with his own scars, who could convince Carter he had nothing to be ashamed of.

  There's no way he'll do it if I ask.

  But . . . she smirked and pulled out her phone. He wouldn't do it for her. However, she did know who he would do it for.

  "Hey, sis." She let out a heavy, dramatic sigh. "I need your help."

  * * * *

  "Holy shit, Oriana!" Silver pounced on her sister in the lobby, hugging her, then holding her at arm's length. "I love this outfit. Seriously! And you have to promise to let me borrow those boots!"

  "You don't have to suck up." Oriana pulled her long black blazer jacket, double breasted and classy vintage, closed and gave her a tight smile. "I already said I'd do it."

  Damn it woman, do you ever look in a mirror? You're gorgeous! Silver wanted to tell her Oriana exactly that, but didn't bother, because she wouldn't listen. Of course, Silver had a new method of attacking her sister's lack of confidence that she had no problem using.

  Besides, she really did want to borrow those boots! New Rock, leather stilettos with red flames. She had to dab the corner of her lip to make sure she wasn't drooling.

  "I'm not sucking up. To be honest, I'm not used to you looking this stylish. That white shirt is really cute over those tights, and that jacket . . . but maybe I'm giving the wrong person credit." Her lips curved slightly. "Are you letting Max dress you now? Or . . . oh! Dominik! I can see him picking out your clothes for you. He's got that Daddy Dom vibe."

  "Fuck off, Silver!" Oriana laughed and shoved her towards the elevator. "The men only dress me when we go to the club."

  "I never see you at the club."

  "Of course you don't. Dominik and Richter discussed it awhile ago and agreed it was best if we went on different nights. I figured it would be a little weird . . . ."

  "They talked to you about it?" Silver frowned as they got on the elevator and headed down to the level with the locker room, gym, training room and coaching staff offices. "Nobody mentioned anything to me."

  "Dominik brought it up after you attacked Sloan."

  Silver made a face. "I gave him a friendly little 'Welcome to the Family' tap. No big deal."

  Oriana snickered. "Right. Well, I have a feeling you won't be doing that again. What did you get, twenty?"

  "Something like that." Her cheeks heated up as she avoided her sister's amused look. "He's fucking strict."

  "You're a brat."

  "There's that too."

  Her sister grinned and glanced down the hall when the elevator door opened. It was empty, but she spoke softly anyway. "Do you get punished often?"

  What was this? Oriana used to hate it when Silver told her about her sex life. Then again, punishments didn't always involve sex. She ran her tongue over her bottom lip. "Sometimes . . . ."

  "When was the last time?"

  Silver's face was on fire. She'd rather talk about sex—which didn't make any sense. "This morning. You?"

  "Last weekend." Oriana shrugged. "Don't forget, I've been with them a lot longer. And Dominik's the only one with rituals and rules that took any getting used to."

  "Rituals?"

  "Yes. Like how I greet him at the door, or things I do when we're eating together." Oriana shot her a quick look, as though needing to make su
re she wouldn't be judged—as if Silver, of all people, would even consider judging her sister. Finally, Oriana exhaled and smiled. "Different Doms expect different things and it feels nice once you get it right. I didn't at first."

  "But you were trying?" Silver thought over some of the books she'd read and vaguely remembered skimming over something about rituals. Kneeling or standing in a certain way. Sounded boring. "Did he punish you anyway?"

  "No, he just made me repeat it a few times. Five the first time. Then he added five times every time I got it wrong after." Giggling the way she had when they were very young, she leaned close and whispered. "I had to pick up my fork fifty times before I could eat once."

  "Fifty?" Silver stared at her sister. "What's so complicated about picking up a fork?"

  "Well." Oriana cleared her throat and dropped her tone to a decent impersonation of Dominik's. "You do not touch the fork until you are given permission. And that's after you are fed the first bite. Lifting your hand to pick up the fork is a mistake." Her full lips formed a hard line. "Try again, pet."

  Silver threw her head back and laughed. "You are awesome at that! Wow!"

  Oriana bowed. "Why thank you."

  "So why did you keep lifting your hand? I mean, getting to fifty times—"

  Heavy footsteps sounded right behind them. Dominik stepped out of the men's bathroom. "She was bored of the ritual and decided to act out." He slid his hand around the back of Oriana's neck and pulled her towards him. "But she quickly learned that doing those small things to please me is much more pleasant than being a brat and trying to get a reaction."

  Rather than looking scared or embarrassed, Oriana leaned into him, content as a well fed kitten. She winked at Silver. "I also much prefer eating at the table."

  "Please don't share any of this with Landon." Silver could already picture him making her sit on the floor and eat out of his hand. Of course, sitting on the table, all tied up, wasn't much better. "He doesn't need any more ideas from you." Polite might help. "Sir."

  Dominik grinned and shook his head. "Call me Dominik or Mason here, Silver. And don't worry about me giving him ideas. I hear he was trained 'Old Guard' style. He'll have you doing High Protocol whenever he's not on the road."

  You've got to be kidding me. "Isn't High Protocol the really intense stuff?"

  "Yes. For example, a slave should never look her Master in the eye."

  "Slave?"

  "Oh, you hadn't discussed that yet?" Dominik guided Oriana along with him, towards the locker room. "He must be taking it easy on you."

  Oriana twisted away from Dominik and poked him in the ribs. "Will you stop teasing her!"

  Dominik caught her wrists and gave her a lazy half smile. "Who says I'm teasing? And what have I told you about poking me?"

  Silver swallowed as her sister's eyes widened.

  "Now?" Oriana asked in a whisper.

  The big man nodded and jerked his chin towards the bathroom. He folded his arms over his chest and arched a brow when Oriana hesitated. "Would you like me to help you?"

  "But then you won't—"

  "No. I won't."

  "Then I'll manage on my own, Sir." Oriana stalked off.

  Shuffling her feet, Silver glanced over at Dominik. "Do I want to know?"

  "Probably not." He made a dismissive motion in the direction of the player's lounge. "Most of the guys should be in there."

  Chewing hard on the inside of her cheek, she squared her shoulders. "Thank you."

  "Oh, and, Silver?"

  She glanced back at him. "Yes?"

  "I agreed to do the photo shoot. Oriana got a hold of me right after you called her. I told her it might be better for her to speak to Sloan in person."

  "Then maybe I should wait for her."

  "Sloan will respect you more if you ask him yourself," Dominik said, shrewdly. "If that doesn't work, let Oriana try. But I wouldn't hold my breath either way."

  "Well, gee, that's encouraging." She mumbled before turning away from him and striding up to the door. She inhaled and pushed the door open.

  About twenty men lounged around, drinking Gatorade or coffee either at the bistro style tables or on the big leather coaches. Landon wasn't there. Scott spotted her first and sat forward, a crooked grin on his face. The towel wrapped around his waist looked ready to flop open. Droplets of water covered his chest and his pecs tightened as she fought to tear her eyes away from him. Movement to the left made her jump.

  Sebastian held up his hands in a I-am-harmless gesture. "Would you care for coffee, muñeca?"

  Inching away from him, she nodded. His accented words still drizzled within like liquid caramel, but lacked the power he'd used before. Maybe Dean was right. Maybe he would keep a respectful distance.

  "We have practice, so let's make this quick." Sloan, who sat on a sofa beside Max, leaned forward and propped his elbows on his knees. "You need how many guys for the photo shoots?"

  All the men in the room went silent.

  Silver started when Sebastian appeared at her side again, then whispered 'Thank you' as he calmly held out a cup of coffee. Her mouth had gone dry, so she took a sip before speaking. "The magazine has requested seven men. I have two—now three since Dominik has agreed."

  "Which leaves four," Sloan said. "Are there alternatives if the players aren't interested in posing for the damn pictures?"

  "Yes."

  "Good. Well if I'm on that list, you might as well choose an alternate." Sloan stood and strode around the table. "Who are the other men?"

  She'd completely lost control of the conversation. Not that she'd had control in the first place. Her gaze swept over the room and she couldn't find one friendly face. Well, Scott, if the look Scott was giving her could be considered friendly. And she wouldn't look at Sebastian, who'd mercifully moved to the other side of the room. Carter stared at his bottle of Gatorade and Max . . . actually, Max was frowning at the other men.

  "She's doing this for the team, guys." His smooth southern drawl took on a sharp edge. He scowled at Sloan who glanced back at him. "I'm thinking you all should cut her some slack."

  "I got everyone here to hear her out," Sloan said. He gave her a hard look. "It's not a difficult question, Silver. Who. Are. The. Other. Men?"

  "Carter. Max and . . . ."

  The door to the locker room opened and she bit her lip. Landon's smile faded as he studied the other players. He tossed the towel he'd been using to dry his face over his shoulder.

  "What's going on?"

  Before she could answer, Oriana and Dominik entered the room with a woman Silver didn't recognize. A badge on her chest identified her as Scarlet Patterson.

  The photographer for the photo spread. The 'professional' the editor had promised to send, who apparently handled all kinds of sports stars.

  Redheaded, perky, with her green jewel toned blouse unbutton enough to reveal her generous cleavage, and a skirt short enough to guarantee full ass exposure if she bent over, the woman immediately got all the men's attention. Except for Landon whose narrowed eyes were fixed on Silver.

  Silver put her hand on his forearm, squeezed the taut muscle, and spoke low. "Let me handle this. Then I'll explain, I promise."

  Landon gave her a curt nod. "Yes. You will."

  Scarlet slinked forward, offering her hand first to Silver, then to Sloan. "I know I wasn't scheduled for today, but something came up." She looked over the men and stared at Scott as she continued. "Your secretary—Anne?—told me I could come in."

  Silver pursed her lips. That woman is so fired. "We're still discussing who is willing to pose."

  "Oh! But you've had weeks and everyone's here." Scarlet shot a shy smile at Scott and simpered. "You've posed for magazines before, Mr. Demyan—"

  Scott gave her a slow, assessing look. "Call me Scott. And yeah, I have no problem posing for you."

  The twit let out a breathless little laugh. "Perfect! And of course we have the captain—"

  "You do not have the
captain."

  All around the room, the men started muttering. By the sounds of it, the magazine would have to do a spotlight on Scott alone. Even Sebastian looked pretty disgusted.

  Scarlet pouted at Sloan. "Oriana already said she didn't mind!"

  Oriana shook her head and paled a little. "That's not what I said!"

  "You said Silver was speaking to him. And that he'd help Luke get over his misgivings." Scarlet approached Carter and cocked her head. "It doesn't look that bad, Luke. And we can angle the shot to get your good side."

  Landon tensed beside Silver. Carter stared at the floor and hunched his shoulders.

  Enough was enough.

  "I'm afraid there's been a mistake." Silver stepped away from Landon and slipped between Scarlet and Carter. "I was assured the magazine was sending a professional."

  Crimson lips pursed, Scarlet looked her over. "Silver, I understand that you're new at this, so I won't take offense, but unlike you I have years of experience. Let me handle the boys. All you need to do is cash the nice big check the magazine will send you when I'm done."

  Smiling sweetly, Silver nodded and spoke low. "Can I ask you something, woman to woman?"

  "Yes . . . ?"

  "How much cum did you have to swallow to become this stupid? I just want to make sure I'm not nearing my quota."

  Scarlet's face turned the color of her lips. Her hand came up. "Why you little bitch. I'll—"

  Oriana stepped forward. "Try it."

  Taking a deep breath, Scarlet glanced from Oriana to Silver and let out an airy laugh. "I apologize. It slipped my mind that you're both involved with several of the players. I'm accustomed to simply making sure the men I photograph are . . . comfortable. But if you'll give me a list I'll make sure to take a more hands off approach."

  "I'd rather they send someone else." Silver inclined her head to her sister, grateful for her support, but needing the men to see she could stand up for them all on her own. "I'm sorry you wasted both our time—"

  "There is no one else." Scarlet put her hands on her hips. "Perhaps I should just tell the magazine you're no longer interested in reaching our extensive readership."