Defensive Zone (The Dartmouth Cobras #2) (29 page)

"No blood. No sharp things. No
anal." She blushed at the last. Why the hell had she said that?
Anal wasn't a hard limit. And had she just given him permission to
fuck her?

Why not? He's hot.

"You're fucking gorgeous, you
know that?" He gently wound her hair around his hand and pulled her
head back so he could kiss her. A nice, deep, kiss. Decent. Really.
"I can't wait to see you in my ropes. Move exactly as I say and
don't speak unless you're uncomfortable. Understand?"

She nodded and followed
his instruction as the soft ropes slid across her body, white and
bright blue, above her bare breasts, over her shoulders like bra
straps, then around and around her waist with a complicated pattern
over her ribs and all the way down to her stomach. Snug, but not in
a bad way. His practiced movements, his soft touch and the caress
of the rope, stirred her blood as the first hint of arousal heated
her core. He pulled her arms behind her and bound her wrists in the
trailing rope.

"That's lovely, Carter."
Chicklet stared at her as though entranced by the rope work.
"Better than what I showed you. Where'd you learn that?"

Carter pressed his lips to
Silver's shoulder, then stepped in front of her to admire his work.
"Callahan gave me some pointers."

Bile rose in Silver's throat.
For fuck's sakes, was that man everywhere?

He's not ruining this.

"What should I do now?" She
groaned at the snap in her words.

He doesn't need to. You're
managing just fine.

"Kneel
up in front of the ottoman." Carter helped her lower to her
knees, then eased her face down onto the cool leather surface.
"I'll start slow, warm up your flesh at bit before we start
anything heavy. If it gets to be too much, just tell me. Yellow
means slow down, but you might forget if you're into
it."

Yeah, yeah.
Can we get started?
She pressed her
forehead into the leather and muttered. "Yes. I
understand."

The first pass of the flogger
tickled. The next tickled more. She shut her eyes and tried to
imagine reaching that space she'd reached with Dean. A place where
her brain wasn't working so hard to convince her body to enjoy
itself. But Dean never gave her a chance to think about much. His
intensity swept her away with a glance.

Warming her up seemed to take
forever. Finally she sat up and shook her head. "This isn't
working. I'm not—I can't—"

"Shh . . . it's all right. I
didn't want to move too fast, but we can try something else if you
want?" Carter crouched down at her side and brushed her hair away
from her eyes. "What would you like me to do?"

Fuck, hit me
like you mean it!
She studied his face.
He would do anything she wanted. All she had to do was ask. "Can we
try something?"

"Absolutely."

Speaking low enough so Chicklet
wouldn't overhear, she told him. His eyes widened. He started to
look at Chicklet, as though to asked permission. But then his jaw
firmed and he nodded.

She rose up on her knees and
braced herself.

* * * *

Dean did one last round of
the club and returned to the far end of the bar, where he could
observe Silver without her seeing him. The moment she arrived and
let Carter lead her away, he'd wanted to grab her and throw her
over his shoulder, make it clear to one and all she was
his.
But
she'd made it clear she didn't want to be his. So all he could do
was stand by and watch to make sure she didn't get hurt.

Carter was gentle, attentive,
and way too young and inexperienced to put someone like Silver in
the right headspace to enjoy what he was doing to her. They both
went into the scene as though it was something any two people could
just do, but the whole thing was painfully awkward. Silver rolled
her eyes and sighed and Carter didn't react. The ropes seemed to
help a little, but Carter might as well have been working with a
volunteer from the crowd at a workshop.

"You going to stop them, or
should I?" His brother, Tim, freakishly observant as always, took a
seat by his side and stole his beer. "She's already topping from
the bottom. Carter is going to let her talk him into something
stupid."

"I doubt that." Dean tried to
laugh like it didn't matter, only, it did. Silver was going to ruin
this for herself. "She's going to get bored and he's going to give
up. Chicklet looks like she's falling asleep."

But Chicklet woke with a
start at the loud
Smack!

The room passed him in a blur as
he cut across the distance between him and Silver. He already felt
Carter's throat under his hands, as it would be in seconds when he
got to him.

Chicklet blocked him. Tim
grabbed him from behind.

Silver noticed none of them. She
blinked as the huge handprint on her cheek turned a bright red. And
whispered. "Again."

"I can't." Carter tripped
backwards. "Fuck. Red. Fucking red. This isn't—I can't—"

"Why not?" Silver's eyes spit
fire as she stood. "You asked me what I wanted and I told you! I
guess it's wrong, right? Too fucked up for you?"

"Enough!" Dean shook with rage,
but not at Carter. The poor, stupid kid was in way over his head.
He focussed on Silver. "He said red. That means it's over. Find
someone else to play with."

Silver laughed. "Like you?"

His nostrils flared. "At the
moment, I wouldn't touch you if you begged me. That kind of
manipulation makes me sick. I suggest you get dressed and go
home."

* * * *

Silver hung her head as Carter
fumbled with his knots, his icy fingers making her shiver. The
ropes didn't loosen, instead seemed to tighten, putting more
pressure on her lungs, so much that she couldn't breathe. Only it
wasn't the ropes constricting her airway. It was something else
that weighed heavy on her chest.

Guilt?
Her nostrils flared. No way. She hadn't done
anything to feel guilty about. Negotiations between her and Carter
had gone well, he'd just freaked out after his hand hit her cheek.
The shock on his face told her he'd gone past his own limits
without realizing it. She gave him a sidelong look. Brow furrowed,
he concentrated on the tangled mess he'd made of the ropes around
her wrists. He seemed all right. Except for his shaky hands. And
the twitch at the right edge of his mouth.

"Carter, let me take care of
her." Chicklet put her hand on Carter's shoulder. "Go for a
walk."

"I'm fine," Carter said.

Chicklet's fingers dug into his
shoulder. "No. You're not. Go. Walk. We'll talk when you come
back."

Carter walked. Leaving Silver
alone with Chicklet.

Meeting the Domme's steady
gaze, Silver shrank a little. Tied up, exposed and shamed by the
club owner, now at the mercy of Carter's mentor. Might be a good
time for
her
to safeword out.

"Stop looking so scared, I'm not
going to hurt you." Chicklet took a knee behind her and sighed.
"Wow. You really fucked with that kid's head. These knots were
perfect. I don't know what he did, but I'm not going to be able to
untie this." She fetched a small black bag from the side of the
ottoman and took out a pair of clippers. "Hold still, I'll have you
out of that in a minute."

As the pieces of the rope fell
away, a strange sensation came over her, like being on a
rollercoaster without restraints. Her pulse beat too fast. Air came
in short little burst, metal and leather, dark and thick and
sweet.

Chicklet snapped her fingers in
front of Silver's face. "Stay with me. I'm almost done."

Done. Then Silver would be free
to leave. And she had to leave. She didn't belong here, they'd all
made that perfectly clear.

After helping her to her feet,
Chicklet shoved her dress at her. Grinning, she pointed towards the
small hall to the bathrooms across the room. "Get dressed, then go
splash some water on your face. This is going to take some
grovelling, little girl."

Me? Grovel?
Like hell!
Silver pulled on her dress and
panties, then tossed her hair to give it some life.
"What are you talking about?"

"Carter had no business topping
you, and you had no business asking him to. I shouldn't have let it
go as on as long as it did, but I figured one of you would smarten
up before it went too far." Chicklet shrugged. "My bad."

"Why shouldn't he have topped
me?"

"Because you have a top
already and it wasn't fair to use Carter to hide from him. You're
lucky Dean didn't get to him. If that kid had gotten hurt, I'd have
dragged you into the alley and shown you what a rabid bitch I can
be." Smiling pleasantly, Chicklet lowered herself to one of the
leather chairs and rested one ankle on her knee. "Hopefully that
won't ever be necessary. I like your sister and you must be all
right if Dean likes you. Not convinced, but you'll work on that,
right?"

"I still don't get it. Why is
what I asked for so wrong?" Lips pursed, she searched the room. At
the spanking throne she saw what she was looking for. A man grabbed
his lover's jaw, said something to her, then hauled back and
slapped her at least twice as hard as Carter had hit Silver. "Why
is it okay for them?"

Chicklet snorted. "They've been
married for ten years."

"So you can't have fun here
unless you're married?"

"No, but face slapping is
a bit extreme for a first scene with someone. There was no telling
how either of you would react, but you're good at using your looks
to get your own way. Which of course reflected badly on Carter, not
you." Chicklet sucked her teeth. "But whatever. It happened. And
hit a trigger for
him.
And you didn't care enough to notice. To make it
worse, you asked for more. Hope it was worth it."

Silver winced. Okay, put that
way, maybe it hadn't been her finest moment. Some could even call
it selfish. Reckless.

Heartless.

"Should I go talk to Carter?
Apologize?"

"No. You're either going
to make things right with Dean or you're going to call yourself a
cab and go home." Chicklet pulled something out of the small pocket
on her vest. Her namesake. She popped a piece of gum in her mouth a
chewed hard. "If Carter sees you with Dean, he'll get it. He won't
feel like a failure. I'll find him an experienced sub to play with
and things will be peachy keen."

Lovely.
Silver sought Dean out in the crowded bar.
There, showing a young woman how to hold a whip. He moved on to
scrutinize a—Silver almost bit through her tongue—waxplay scene.
The colorful spill over the woman's breasts, the lick of fire on
the wick, held so close, hardened her own nipples as though they
shared the sensation. And enjoyed it.

Dean bent down, whispering
something to the woman that made her smile.

Silver's eyes slitted. She put
her hands on her hips and spun around to face Chicklet. "Dean told
me to leave."

"No." Chicklet smirked over the
fist where she'd propped her chin. "He suggested it. You choosing
now to be obedient, missy?"

"Maybe . . . ."

"Coward."

"Fuck you."

Chicklet arched a brow. "I
could flog you for that. And I promise you wouldn't enjoy it. Might
want to run along before I decide
I
would."

Yikes!
Silver didn't even try to fake not being afraid
of the woman. Her attitude wasn't holding up and she couldn't very
well charm the woman into liking her, not after the whole thing
with Carter. A punishment from her would be straight up, no
nonsense, without anything sexual to dampen the pain.

At least moving fast kept her
from seeing any more scenes. She knew Landon was here, and if she
saw him now, she'd forget about putting space between them and walk
straight into his arms. He would get what she'd been trying to do.
He'd warn her to be careful, but then he'd hold her and make
everything better. She wouldn't feel stupid, or alone, or . . .
.

So why are you
even considering going to Dean? Chicklet was right! You'll have to
kneel and beg his forgiveness. But with Landon—
she cut off that thought. One slip with Landon and they
wouldn't be friends anymore. They'd be lovers. Then they'd be
nothing.

In the bathroom she
splashed water on her face, not worried about ruining her makeup
since everything was waterproof. Two women chatted in the stalls,
nothing but white noise at first. Until she heard one mention
Landon's name.

"He's new and oh my God!" The
woman sounded like Minnie Mouse on crack. "My husband arranged to
do a scene with him!"

"I saw him, you lucky bitch."
The second woman squealed. "Do you mind if I watch?"

"Not at all. He says he
doesn't do 'penetration' when he's doing scenes with couples, but
my husband will make him a deal. He might be old, but he gets
me
everything
I want. And that stud is mine!"

"I'm so jealous!"

"Don't be. Maybe I can slip you
in somehow."

"You are a true friend!"

Both women laughed. The doors
unlocked.

Silver slipped out before they
spotted her. In the hall, she gouged her palms with her nails and
counted down to calm her breathing. She hated the idea of those
women using Landon like a piece of meat, like their own personal
toy. But what could she do? It was none of her business who he
fucked.

Which didn't mean she couldn't
look out for him. She slipped into the main room and circled
towards the bar, keeping her eye out for Landon. Unable to find
him, she watched the hall, and, when two women emerged,
nonchalantly followed them to a roped off area in the darkest part
of the club, some distance away from the dance floor. All it
contained was long, red padded table with restrains hanging from
the top and bottom.