Goal Line (The Dartmouth Cobras Book 7) (3 page)

BOOK: Goal Line (The Dartmouth Cobras Book 7)
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Hunt headed for the ring. “Come on,
Bruiser
. You think you can take me?”

White laughed and followed him. “I know it, kid. Let’s go.”

Climbing out of the ring, Shero cut them off and shook his head. “No. Matches are planned in advance. Yours wasn’t approved.”

“Come on, Coach. We’ve got shi—stuff to work out.” White looked past Hunt, a taunting smile on his lips. “If not, I’m out of here. Wanna go for a beer, Richards?”

Braxton Richards, the youngest player on the team, quickly shook his head. Hunt had taken to looking after the kid, so maybe he thought White was a bad influence? White’s interest in Richards seemed slightly off, though Dominik couldn’t quite put his finger on why. Either way, Richards clearly didn’t like the position he’d found himself in. His eyes were wide and he was pale. Poor boy.

Thankfully, Shawn Pischlar, a solid player and easygoing Dom, was right by his side. Speaking low as he flung his arm around Richards’s shoulders. Whatever he said had Richards ducking his head and laughing.

“Back off, Pisch.” Hunt changed direction and strode up to Richards’s side, looking ready to yank the rookie away from Pischlar. He didn’t seem at all comforted by the way Pischlar moved his arm and stepped back. But he appeared to have forgotten about fighting White.

The two young men walked out. White grunted something at Pischlar before trailing after them.

Pischlar went to the refreshment table to grab an apple.

“Consider this experiment a failure, Callahan.” Shero retrieved his suit jacket from a bench by the ring and shot Zovko and Demyan an apologetic look. “This may have worked for minor issues, but I am beginning to see how easily it could be taken advantage of. Boxing is excellent for conditioning, but I hope the two of you can find a peaceful resolution.”

“I see no reason why not.” Zovko turned to Demyan, holding out his hand. After a brief hesitation, Demyan shook it.

But he didn’t say anything. Simply joined the crowd leaving.

Dominik’s lips thinned as he took in the unease that had been left behind. He hated the idea that the “experiment” had been a complete waste of time. But maybe Sloan was right. Maybe, once the men saw them getting along, they’d be motivated to do the same. With the playoffs on the line, personal shit wasn’t all that important.

He approached the table where Sloan stood with Oriana, Silver, and Ford. Sloan had taken a peach from the fruit bowl. He pulled the large knife from the watermelon platter and used it to slice a small sliver of the peach.

Oriana pressed her teeth into her lush bottom lip, half her attention on her siblings, most on Sloan who licked the peach juice off the knife.

Silver didn’t appear to notice. “Landon will be between the pipes tomorrow. His leg is fine. He had a nasty bruise but no serious damage.”

“That’s good.” Oriana pressed her hand to her cheek, blushing as Sloan slid the blade carefully over the flesh of the peach.

“Oh, get a room. Damn it, Sloan, I think you’re getting Ford off.” Silver tossed her long blond hair over one shoulder and shoved her brother. “Gross.”

“Fuck off, Silver.” Ford folded his arms over his chest, but he was watching the knife as though hypnotized. “Sloan trains Cort. I’m…interested.”

“Mmm. Knife play involves a certain…finesse.” Sloan turned the peach, drawing the blade over it in a way that barely broke the skin. He’d obviously been practicing.

When he and Dominik had played with Oriana together, Sloan had kept to the mental aspect of knives in the bedroom. Dominik shouldn’t be surprised that he’d taken the play to the next level, but he hadn’t let himself think on the kinds of scenes Sloan would be doing with Oriana.

And he didn’t want to start now. Without drawing attention to himself, he moved out the door, prepared to leave. A small, soft hand touched his arm and he took a deep breath. He looked at the hand, long fingers tipped in perfect French-manicured nails, so pale against his dark skin. A large diamond in the engagement ring, not the small diamond in Oriana’s wedding ring.

He met Silver’s eyes.

She studied his face. “Maybe this should wait. Are you—?”

“I’m fine. What is it, Silver?”

“Hanes Brands and Champion have asked you to do a series of commercials. I don’t know if your manager spoke to you, since he told me he wasn’t interested because he thinks they just want a ‘token black man.’ His words.” Her pink-glossed lips thinned and she was all business. “I disagree. You’re the captain of a team about to make the playoffs. And you’re a good-looking man. I don’t appreciate your manager making issues where there are none and—”

“I’ll do it. And I’ll deal with him, don’t worry, sweetheart.” Dominik grinned and gave Silver a hug. He kissed her forehead before letting her go. He still considered her family even though he wasn’t with her sister. “He feeds on drama. Don’t let him get to you.”

“Ford told me to let him handle the man, but fuck that.” She wrinkled her nose. “Sorry, Dean’s asked me to practice speaking in a more ‘professional manner,’ but between dealing with your manager and my brother, I’m at my wits’ end.”

“I’ll let you know if I’m offended. You’re fine, Silver.” Dominik held the door open, pausing in the hall when Silver put her hand on his arm again. “Was there something else?”

“Are you okay? Really?” Silver eased the door shut. The hall was empty, which seemed to encourage her to drop the business persona and talk to him as the young woman who’d know him for years. “You won the fight, but what was the point? There’s no prize and nothing’s changed.”

“I think
that
was the point, little one. Not for the others, but for me and Sloan.” There was no use holding back and pretending with Silver. So he spoke plainly. “We will get through each and every game, deal with every situation in a way that’s best for the team, but at the end of the day, we aren’t friends. He will go home with your sister, and I’ve accepted that.”

“Have you?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, that’s good, I guess. But…” She sighed and looked down at her hand on his arm. “Where does that leave you? You aren’t training anyone at the club. You’re not moving on.”

“I’ve moved on. Don’t worry—just because I’m single doesn’t mean I’m pining over your sister. I’m focused on the game.” Not the full truth, but he didn’t need to bare his soul to Silver. “Enough meddling now, pet. How’s Amia doing?”

Silver’s eyes brightened at the mention of her daughter. She smiled, practically glowing with pride. “She’s taken her first steps, but she still crawls more than anything. She talks nonstop, but I have no idea what she’s saying most of the time. Dean said that’s normal. You should see her.”

“I’d like that.”

“Sahara offered to babysit while we go to Casey’s spring concert next Thursday. You could always—”

He chuckled and put his finger over Silver’s lips. “I don’t need you setting me up with Sahara. We are good friends. I’m not sure why people think there’s more going on.”

She snorted and folded her arms over her small breasts. “You’re full of shit. When you’re together, it’s obvious—”

“Careful, Silver.” Dominik didn’t bother lowering his voice as he spotted the team’s starting goalie, Landon Bower, ambling down the hall. Silver was his fiancée and the mother of his child, but Bower was a proficient Master who expected his sub to behave herself when addressing other Doms. Letting him handle Silver was the quickest way out of the conversation. Her smirk proved she hadn’t noticed Bower’s approach. There was some satisfaction in wiping it off her face with his next words. “I have no tolerance for rudeness. Your Masters are creative with their punishments. Don’t force me to request they give you one on my behalf.”

Her eyes widened and the color faded from her cheeks. “You wouldn’t—”

“He won’t have to.” Bower slid his hand under Silver’s hair and took a firm hold on the back of her neck. “Apologize and come with me. Dean had a special night planned for us, but I have a feeling we’ll have to address your behavior first.”

“But I…” Silver cut herself off at a dark look from Bower. She dropped her gaze to the tip of her pink high-heeled shoes as she did what she’d been told. “I’m sorry, Sir.”

“You’re forgiven, sweetheart.” Dominik met Bower’s eyes and inclined his head. The man wouldn’t be too hard on Silver, but she’d likely think twice before playing matchmaker again. He watched the couple walk down the hall, then headed in the other direction toward the gym’s locker room. After a quick shower, he changed into blue jeans and a plain white T-shirt. Pulled on his wool, khaki-colored jacket, and grabbed his sports bag. In the parking lot, he hesitated beside his pickup truck and pulled out his phone.

Despite her improper approach, Silver had a point. There’d been the potential of a relationship between him and Sahara. He wasn’t sure who’d decided to draw the line at friendship. She’d stopped approaching him at the club—actually, he couldn’t recall the last time she’d
been
at the BDSM club where he served as a Dungeon Monitor every weekend. Maybe she’d gotten over her attempts at being a sub to draw the attention of the team’s owner, Lorenzo Keane. Dominik found her beautiful and alluring, but he had no interest in a woman playing at being submissive.

But there was chemistry between them that he couldn’t deny. He’d pushed the possibilities aside to focus on the game, but there was more to life. He could tell everyone who asked that he was moving on from his failed relationship with Oriana, yet he hadn’t done a thing to prove it. Maybe he should.

He dialed Sahara’s number. No answer. So he left a message. “Hey, sweet lady. Been a while, so I thought we could catch up over dinner. My treat.”

Straightforward and simple, but as he hung up, he couldn’t decide whether or not he wanted her to call back. Training subs, putting his all out there on the ice, were things he knew how to do. But taking that first step into a future that didn’t involve Oriana was different.

He was fine with it. For the most part. But when he closed his eyes, he could still see himself growing old with her. Still remember how often he’d seen his children with her eyes. Her smile.

In his mind, he knew that would never happen. But he couldn’t lie to himself as easily as he lied to everyone else.

Oriana still had his heart. And he had a feeling she always would.

 

Chapter Two

 

Sahara picked up her phone. Put it down. Then brought her hands up to tug her hair and groaned really loud when Jami laughed. Today was not her day.

Jami had shown up at her door about twenty minutes ago, acting like she just wanted to visit. Except, Luke Carter was with her. Sahara had no problem with her friend’s fiancé, but Jami wasn’t in the habit of bringing him along when they hung out. What the hell was he going to do while they chatted about the insanity of Sahara’s life? And discussed how
Dominik
had left her a message asking her out like it was the most normal thing in the world?

She’d let Jami hear the message, and they’d sat on the couch and discussed how she should respond, but Luke sitting in the kitchen playing Angry Birds on his phone was still weird.

Jami and Akira had probably talked about what had gone down with Cort. After all Jami had been through in the past, right down to having her very own demented stalker, her men were understandably protective. But it wasn’t like Sahara would invite Grant over while Jami was here and let him—damn it, he wasn’t some kind of animal! He’d never hurt anyone without reason.

So he had a reason to hurt you?

Yes. No. Hell, she didn’t want to think about him now. She wanted to think about what to say to Dominik. And she needed her best friend’s help.

She wouldn’t ask Akira. At this point, she’d be lucky if Akira ever spoke to her again. But she needed Jami
not
to be laughing at her. This was serious. And messed up. And damn confusing.

“Stop it!” Sahara tossed her phone on the sofa beside Jami and sat on the coffee table. “You may have done great throwing yourself at Seb, but I—”

“Whoa, Sahara. You really want to go there?” Jami’s eyes narrowed and she leaned forward, her hands on her knees. “If you want to do bitch-chick mode, I’m up for it, but that’s fucking low. Yes, I went after Sebastian, but I don’t judge you for being scared of starting a new relationship. It’s a fucking date—”

“Jami, boo, please retract the claws.” Luke came into the room and Sahara groaned again. There was no way he could improve the situation. And he only had to open his mouth to prove it. “You’re friends. Sahara needs to get back in the game. How about telling her
why
she should go out with Mason? He’s big and sexy and has a nice ass—”

“You are taking Sebastian’s suggestion of embracing who you are
way
too seriously, Luke.” Jami cocked her head as Luke sat on the arm of the sofa. “You do know Mason would dismember you if you hit on him, right?”

“Naw, he’d just laugh at me. Seb, however…” Luke smiled and closed his eyes as though picturing their Dom’s reaction. “He might beat me within an inch of my life. He’s so possessive lately.”

“Umm, yeah. You are a freak.” Jami patted Luke’s knee fondly before returning her attention to Sahara. “Look, here’s the deal. Neither you nor Dominik are looking for anything serious right now. He’ll treat you great, you’ll have fun, and I insist you make it perfectly clear to Grant that going back to him is
not
an option.”


Annnnnd
we’re back on that.” Sahara sighed. So much for not thinking about him. “Jami, I’m not an idiot. Grant is…a friend.”

Jami covered her face with her hands. “And you’re
not
an idiot?”

Luke grabbed Jami’s ponytail and tugged, frowning at her. “Jami—”

“Luke.” Jami made a face at him. “In the kitchen, man of mine, before I beat you to death myself.”

Hopping off the arm of the sofa, Luke turned, leaning down to take Jami’s head between his hands and kiss her long and hard. He rose, winked at Sahara, and then disappeared into the kitchen.

“Don’t mind him. He keeps telling me I should be nice, but with how cold he is to his sister…”

Yes!
Sahara sat forward, motioning for Jami to go on. Talking about Luke’s sister was a much safer topic.

“Oh, fine, I’ll change the subject, but only because I love you.” Jami gave Sahara a crooked smile and sat back against the sofa. “She’s a hot mess, but she’s such a sweetie once you get past the attitude. We had another ultrasound just the other day. She’s really starting to show, and our baby boy is getting so big! Sebastian is helping me set up a nursery. Luke helps too, but only when Sam’s at work.”

“She’s working? I thought she got fired.” Sahara could remember at least two jobs Sam had gotten and held for no more than a day. The girl insisted she wanted to support herself, but she’d stolen from both her employers. It was almost like she couldn’t help herself.

Jami shrugged, hunching her shoulders and staring at her hands. “Silver pulled some strings and got her working at one of the concession stands at the Forum. I hated asking because Silver wants me to talk to my dad and I can’t, so it’s weird. But…anyway, Sam doesn’t work at the cash register, so all she can steal is pretzels. She’s doing all right.”

“That’s good.” Sahara rolled her eyes as Jami picked up her phone and handed it to her. The temporary reprieve was over. Either she called Dominik or Jami would force her to explain why she was avoiding him. Not that she was, exactly. She clasped her hands around her phone and chewed on her bottom lip.

“Do you want me to stay here or give you some privacy?” Jami’s tone was soft, like she finally understood how hard this was. She knew about Sahara’s casual lovers, knew that Sahara had been crushing on the Cobras’ owner for way too long, but she couldn’t seem to let go of her concern over Sahara not moving on.

And maybe she was right to. Grant coming over was messed up. Sahara wouldn’t deny that, and she wouldn’t deny that dating would be healthy and liberating, and it would close and lock the door to Grant in a way that saying “We’re just friends” couldn’t do.

Besides, she liked being around Dominik. Liked the way he smiled at her, the way he watched out for her at the club, the way she’d felt ready to go along with whatever he suggested.

If only he’d taken the lead with all the chances she’d given him. Then again, they’d either been around other players, or her friends, or at the club. They’d never truly been alone. And now they would be.

“Go keep your fiancé busy. I don’t care if you make out, but if you fuck on my table—”

Jami snickered as she stood. “That was my table too until this morning. And I always washed it after—”

“No! I didn’t need to know that!” Sahara shoved Jami toward the kitchen, laughing. Her friends were out of their minds, but she loved them anyway. She searched for Dominik’s name on her phone and dialed before she could think about it too much. She was in a good mood and she wasn’t scared anymore. Nothing would happen unless she let it.

Which was one of the most wonderful things about the man. He always gave her a choice, and maybe one day, the choice would be she didn’t want the option to run away anymore.

“Hello, sunshine.” Dominik’s voice sent a dark thrill right through her. Deep and rich, like a mouthful of Black Forest cake so delicious she’d never forget the way it tasted even after she licked her plate clean. “I wasn’t sure you’d call me back.”

“I wasn’t sure if I should.” Sahara moved to the sofa, tucking her feet under her as she toyed with her hair. “What made you decide to call?”

“I missed you.”

“Did you?” Inhaling, Sahara shifted, bringing her knees to her chest and hugging them with one arm. “You were the one who told me not to come to the club until I knew why I wanted to be there.”

“This is true. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to see you.”

“You’re a Dom. You should be looking for girls at—”

“I’m a man, Sahara. Let’s not make this complicated.” His gentle chiding reminded her so much of how he’d treated her at the club. As a Dom who cared for her, but would never push her to submit. “We can have dinner as friends if you’d like. No pressure.”

Saying yes would be so easy, but she didn’t want “just friends” with him. Not today, not after putting that wall up between herself and Grant. She didn’t need a wall between her and Dominik. “I thought it was a date. I…I wanted to know when you were coming to pick me up.”

Silence, and then a soft laugh. “I’d braced myself for a polite no. I need time to get ready, so let’s say around five thirty?”

Less than an hour. She giggled, feeling unexpectedly giddy. A deep breath and she was able to give him a coherent answer. “That works. If you need time to get ready, I’m guessing I should dress nice?”

“Don’t tempt me, girl.” The low growl in Dominik’s tone had Sahara pressing her thighs together and holding her breath. “If you give me the opening, I will tell you exactly what to wear.”

“What if that’s
exactly
what I want?” Sahara was playing with fire, but she didn’t care. With Dominik’s control wrapping around her like the sleekest silk ropes, she’d never felt more freedom. “Tell me what will please you, Sir.”

A chuckle that made all the hairs on the back of her neck rise and Dominik replied. “So naughty. Wear a red dress and leave your hair loose. I’m warning you now, Sahara. No matter how much you beg, you will get no more than a kiss from me tonight.”

Sahara’s lips parted. She swallowed hard. “Why would I beg?”

He let out a soft, amused sound. “I’ll see you in a bit.”

The call ended. Sahara brought the phone to her chest and fell back on the sofa, squealing so loud Jami rushed into the room, leaning over her and staring at her like she’d gone nuts.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m wonderful. He’s…he’s amazing. And he wants to go on a date with me.” Clearly, but Jami couldn’t possibly understand what that meant. “A
real
date!”

That didn’t make anything clear, but Sahara shot off the sofa and ran to her room to find her sexiest red dress. She had tears in her eyes and she wasn’t even sure why. Except…well, she’d avoided relationships because she couldn’t trust a single man who lusted after her. Going to the club, she knew she was safe. And that was because Dominik was always there. And he was the only one she needed with her tonight.

She wasn’t damaged. Wasn’t broken. A wonderful, caring man wanted to take her out and…

It’s just a date, Sahara.
Her hands shook as she pulled the dress from her closet and laid it on her bed. She was making
way
too much of this. She needed to relax or he’d think she was a head case. Not that he didn’t already know, with how often she’d had to safeword during a scene and crawl away in shame.

He understands.

She didn’t doubt that at all. He would probably give her good advice about Grant if she told him about this morning, but she didn’t even want to bring up her ex. Tonight was for her and Dominik. No past, no fear. Nothing but him and her and so many possibilities.

“No more than a kiss.”

The idea of him kissing her made her heart flutter. She threw herself on her bed and laughed into her hands. After the morning she’d had, the evening couldn’t have turned out more wonderful. She heard someone come into her room and peeked through her fingers at Jami.

Who sat on the edge of her bed and took her hand away from her face. “So…you’re happy?”

“I am.” Sahara sniffed and swiped away her silly tears. “And I think I really will be. I don’t want to get too excited, but…”

Jami waited for her to continue, and when she didn’t, simply lay down beside her and grinned. “It’s about fucking time. You deserve this.”

Okay, that was going a little far. Sahara didn’t think she deserved happiness more than anyone else. But she wanted it.

And for the first time, she really believed it was possible.

 

* * * *

 

Dressed in charcoal slacks and jacket, with a white shirt and black tie and a warm, dark gray wool coat because it was still damn cold out, Dominik stepped up to Sahara’s door and knocked softly. He was well aware that he looked like he was going somewhere fancy. He wanted Sahara to see she deserved the best. Her uncertainty had him reassessing their every encounter, and he was determined to make this one different.

Behind the door, he heard rapid footsteps. Shouting—yes, that was Jami. He grinned, recalling the girl as a shy young teen before she’d gone through her rebellious phase. Now she’d grown into an intelligent, feisty young woman who’d enveloped Sahara in her close-knit group of friends. Friends she was quite protective of.

He wondered if she would have a few things to say to him before he left with Sahara. The door opened and he snorted as Carter let out a heavy sigh and gestured for him to come in.

“If it helps any, she looks really hot.” Carter shut the door behind them and led the way to the small kitchen. He reached into the fridge for a beer, shutting it after Dominik turned down his offer for one. “There’s some lipstick drama going on. They might be a while.”

Nothing new, Dominik had waited on women before dates in the past. He’d never seen Sahara out and about without the extra polish she honestly didn’t need. But he wouldn’t rush her. If putting on just the right lipstick made her more comfortable, all the better.

He sat with Carter in the living room with one ankle propped on his knee, only half listening to the young man until an unexpected subject came up. He dropped his foot and leaned forward. “Ramos is letting you and Jami try to have a baby?”

BOOK: Goal Line (The Dartmouth Cobras Book 7)
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