GAME MISCONDUCT (The Dartmouth Cobras) (20 page)

She’d gone too far.

“Y
ou should have heard them,” Vanek said around a mouthful of pizza. “They had her screaming and—Ow!” He rubbed his head where T.J. had cuffed him. “What was that for?”

“You’ve got a big mouth.” T.J. put his hand on Oriana’s shoulder. “They’re not mad, sweetheart. Look at them.”

Sloan tensed as Oriana pushed out of his arms. T.J. better be right.

Dominik approached her first. “Just a few stitches. No big deal.” He titled her chin up with a hand and kissed her. “Would have been a bigger deal if you’d have gotten hurt.”

“There was so much blood.” She leaned on Dominik and let out a heavy sigh. “I had to get it off me. Everything else just . . . happened.”

Max stepped up behind her and touched her shoulder. “What
happened,
exactly?”

Oriana shifted. Dominik put his arm around her shoulders and tucked her against his side. Sloan’s tongue ran across his teeth as he stifled the urge to snatch her away from the other men.

“You wanna get off on the details, Max?” T.J.’s lips curled, and his nostrils flared. “Whatever’s going on between you two, you gave her carte blanche for the night.”

“Yes, I did,” Max said, more to himself than anyone else. He mumbled something under his breath Sloan couldn’t make out and shook his head. “Just askin’.”

“So, how many stitches did you get, Mason?” Cardboard scraped the coffee table as Vanek took another piece of pizza. From his tone, he’d missed the entire exchange. Or was choosing to ignore it. “Oriana’s right; there was an awful lot of blood. Cleaned it up best I could, but I think all the fish in your pond-thingy are dead.”

Nice way to change the subject.
Sloan rolled his eyes and scrambled to come up with something else.

But Dominik took the offered “out”. “There were no fish in—and it’s a fountain, but thanks for taking care of that for me.”

“You’re welcome.” Vanek pointed at Dominik’s arm. “I’m guessing thirty.”

“Fifteen. I’m gonna have a few sweet scars.” Dominik pulled off his jacket and hiked up the sleeve of his black sweatshirt. “Almost looks like lightning.”

Very true. Dominik’s peeled-off bandage revealed sewn skin in three long lines angled from one another. Once the swelling went down, it would look pretty cool.

But if her pallor was anything to go by, Oriana didn’t agree. Sloan caught Dominik’s eyes and nodded at Oriana. Much as he didn’t like how close Dominik and Oriana were getting, she needed him now.

Dominik bent to pick her up as she swayed. “Whoa there, sweetie. Completely forgot how much seeing me hurt affects you.” The regret in his eyes couldn’t hide the pleasure in his tone. “Come on, I’ll bring you—”

“No!” Oriana smacked the center of Dominik’s chest and scowled at him. “Don’t be a dumb ass. If you pick me up, you’ll tear open your stitches.”

Now that was a funny sight. Sloan knew Dominik well as a Master and as a hockey player. For a moment, he’d relaxed into an easy going one-of-the-guys. Concern shifted him to Dom. Now the two were at war as Oriana herded him toward the bedroom.

“I want you in bed. Now.”

“Oriana—” Dominik’s eyes narrowed. He didn’t like taking orders from subs.

Girl was gonna get it.

Suddenly, Dominik’s features lightened and he laughed. “All right. But only if you come with me.”

Lips pursed, Oriana folded her arms over her chest. “To sleep.”

“Deal.” Dominik took her hand and laced their fingers together. “I enjoyed taking you, Oriana, but I can’t imagine anything better than holding you all night long.”

“Have fun!” Vanek dropped a pizza crust in the empty box and rubbed his hands on his thighs. “I’ll crash on the couch.”

“Why don’t you head up to bed?” Dominik combed his fingers through Oriana’s wet hair and brought her fingers to his lips. “You need your rest, rookie.”

“‘Cause I’m not stupid. If she wakes up during the night all antsy, I wanna be nearby. Bad enough I couldn’t join the fun in the bathroom. Too crowded.”

“Well, I’m gonna get some sleep while you guys figure this out.” T.J. went to Oriana and kissed her brow. “Had fun and all, but I’m done for the night.”

“Goodnight, T.J.” Oriana groaned as Dominik worked one hand between the folds of her towel. “Stop that! We’re going to sleep, remember?”

“Mmm.” Dominik tugged at the towel until it opened and fell to her feet. “You still won’t need this.”

“There gonna be room in that bed for one more?” Max took a hesitant step toward Oriana, then smiled when she reached out to him. “I wanna ‘hold’ you, too.”

The trio headed for the bedroom, and Sloan frowned when Oriana gasped. So much for sleeping. Maybe he and Vanek should join them.

The door was shut firmly behind them. The lock clicked.

“Guess they won’t be needing us tonight.” Vanek propped his feet up on the table and nudged the pizza box toward Sloan. “Hungry?”

“Go fuck yourself, Vanek.” Scowling at Vanek’s laugh, Sloan stormed out of the room. Closed inside his own, he paced, hands raked into his hair. How had he managed to miss out on everything? Oriana wanted him as much—if not more—than the others. So what had gone wrong?

Besides you running your mouth? Pretty much everything.

After stripping off his shirt and jeans, Sloan went to his bed and lay on top of the forest green comforter, arms folded under his head. Calm. Control.
There’s no fucking rush. This isn’t over for you. Not by a long shot.

Tomorrow, he’d take his place with her. Maybe start her on some training. Then, after the game, they’d play.

L
imbs wrapped around her, heavy and warm. The sun streaked through the part in the curtains, blazing through her closed lids and causing her head to throb in time with the dull ache between her thighs.

A wonderful feeling, until she woke enough to face what she’d done.

Images flashed behind eyelids she pressed shut. Five men, having their way with her. Vanek and Dominik. T.J. and Sloan. Then Max and Dominik again.

She didn’t regret it, but she was afraid to see how the men would treat her. Like a plaything to be used for their amusement? Or would they be disgusted by how wanton she’d been?

Only one way to find out.

Untangling herself from Max and Dominik, she crawled off the bed and looked around. She certainly couldn’t face them naked.

A suitcase caught her eye. Inside, she found a pair of jogging pants and a T-shirt. After combing her hair with her fingers, she checked her appearance in the mirror above the dresser.

Her lips were swollen, her cheeks flushed, but, other than that, she didn’t look too bad. Her eyes held a sparkle that made them almost pretty.

Hell, I enjoyed myself last night. Whatever happens now won’t take that away from me.

Squaring her shoulders, she walked up to the door and unlocked it. Then she eased it open.

“Good morning, gorgeous.” Tyler tossed the remote on the coffee table and stood. “Damn, you’re a sight in the morning.”

So far, so good. She went to the sofa when he waved her over and accepted his kiss.

“I made you some breakfast.” A tray slammed on the table in the little kitchenette. Sloan set a knife and fork by a plate and held out his hand. “Come eat.”

Fruit salad and homemade waffles. Her mouth watered as she took a seat, and she whispered thanks as he poured her a glass of orange juice. She cut herself a piece of waffle, eyes on Sloan as he took the seat across from her.

“We’ve got a game tonight,” he said, picking up the newspaper from the tray and flicking it open.

“I know.” She put the piece of waffle in her mouth, watching him cruise the headline. “I was thinking of going—”

“You’re coming.” Sloan laid the paper on the table and smiled at her. “The Cobras are gonna crush the Blue Jackets. You wouldn’t want to miss that, would you?”

“No.” The syrup felt thick on her tongue. Too sweet. She took a gulp of orange juice. It didn’t help. “Should I put money on it?”

Sloan’s hand settled on her knee. Her fork fell out of her hand and clinked on her plate. At little early for . . . She swallowed and peered up at him. At least he didn’t look like he thought any less of her.

“You’re the owner’s daughter. Might be frowned on.” His hand stroked up her leg, sending a spike of awareness between her thighs. Then he stood and held up a finger. “Dominik! Perron! Get up, you lazy bastards!”

Grumbling came from the bedroom. Sloan rounded the table and took her hand to pull her to her feet.

When Sloan sat in her chair, she cocked her head, confused.

“Sit down and finish your breakfast.”

Oh, hell, no
.

“But—” She glanced across the room to watch Max and Dominik emerge, both deliciously rumpled and wearing nothing but boxers.

Sloan lifted her up and sat her on his knee. “Wasn’t I clear enough?” He wrapped his hands around her waist and slid his fingers under the waistband of her jogging pants. “Eat up. We’ve got a big day planned.”

Max took Sloan’s abandoned seat. “So we get to chill before the game?”

Since Max didn’t appear bothered by the fact that she was in Sloan’s lap, she peeked at Dominik and relaxed. He simply smiled at her before taking her glass and gulping down half her orange juice.

“The last time I let you laze around before a game, you ended up minus six. We’re heading to the gym for a light workout, then to the rink to warm up.” Sloan’s fingers slid inside her pants, brushing the top of her mound. “Food, Oriana.”

She tried to get up and whimpered when he pulled her back. The hard muscles of his thigh ground against her, and she could feel the crotch of the jogging pants dampen with her lust. The tip of his finger grazed her clit.

Picking up her fork, she speared a big piece of waffle and crammed it in her mouth.

“There you go,” he whispered, withdrawing his hand to set it on the table. “How’s your knee, Vanek?”

Tyler snapped his gaping mouth shut and shook his head. “What?” His cheeks flushed. He rose from the sofa and brought first one knee, then the other, to his chest. “Little sore, but nothing I can’t handle.”

While Sloan questioned each of the men, Oriana cleaned her plate of the tasteless food. Not that the waffles weren’t good, but her focus had turned from her taste buds to something . . . lower.

Sounded like the boys’ schedules were full. They wouldn’t have time for her, but maybe if she could have a few minutes alone?

“Where do you think you’re going?” Sloan put his hand on her hip when she slipped off his lap.

“Shower.” She dodged his hand and headed to the bathroom.

“You had a bath last night.”

“Well—” She gave Dominik a helpless look when he blocked her path. They just weren’t playing fair this morning.

Dominik cupped her cheek. “Go ahead, babe. Wash all me and Max’s sweat off. I’ll bring you by your place later to pick up a change of clothes. But I want you to wear my jersey to the game.” He grinned when she nodded and let her pass.

“Oh, and Oriana,” Sloan said, lifting his arms over his head to stretch.

She sighed and glanced over her shoulder, one foot in the bathroom. “What?”

“Don’t get yourself off.”

Snorting, she entered the bathroom and slammed the door behind her. As if.

But under the hot spray of the shower, she found herself obeying despite her best efforts to do otherwise. Her body refused to respond to her touch—she let out an aggravated scream between her teeth, then another when she heard a chuckle from right outside the door.

Bastard!
Grinding her teeth, she reached down and turned the cold water on full.

P
ortland Estates Boulevard was sprinkled with nice family-sized homes and bungalows. And trees, so many Dominik double-checked the GPS on the dashboard of the rental to make sure he hadn’t left the city. When Oriana referred to her place as an apartment, he’d expected a blocky complex in the shopping district. But this was a typical, suburban neighborhood. A good place to raise kids.

Oriana lived here with Paul. The very thought made him feel like he’d swallowed lumpy, sour milk. If he had his way, either Paul or Oriana would vacate the apartment very soon. He’d force the issue if he had to.

Right, she’ll love that.
Oriana might be sexually submissive, but she gave no impression of needing someone to run her life for her. Which didn’t mean he couldn’t broach the subject. But as a friend, not a Dom.

Then again, they hadn’t been friends long enough for him to offer that kind of advice. Even calling them “friends” seemed preemptive. Friends talked, and not once in their time alone had Oriana showed any desire to chat. Despite what had passed between them, he felt like one of the chauffeurs on her daddy’s payroll.

“Where to, ma’am?
”

The sound of Oriana unsticking her bare thighs from the leather seat disturbed the silence. From the corner of his eye, he observed the way she rubbed her knees and pursed her lips. Her eyes flung fiery daggers at him as though blaming him for her discomfort.

“I’ll have to do something to earn those dirty looks, bunny.” He chuckled when she gave him another. “If you recall, Sloan’s the one who ordered you not to pleasure yourself in the shower.”

Her lips moved like those of a goldfish suddenly plucked from a safe little glass bowl. Fingers denting the flesh of her thighs, she jutted her chin up. “You’re assuming I did what he said.”

“Either that, or your panties are on fire.” He chuckled when she let out a kitten-like growl. “You’re a lusty woman, Oriana. Nothing to be ashamed of.”

“Uck, as if I can’t go a few hours without sex. Just because I—” Her cheeks turned hot pink. “I’m not a damn nympho.”

“Never said you were.” He pulled up in front of a building that looked more like a large townhouse than an apartment and confirmed the address. Throwing the rented Lincoln in park, he opened the door, but paused when she didn’t move. “What is it? Are you worried that Paul’s here? Didn’t the concierge say he left yesterday with a few bags?”