Iron Cross: The Dartmouth Cobras #6 (21 page)

BOOK: Iron Cross: The Dartmouth Cobras #6
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Her eyes widened in shock. She glanced back at the table, then brought one hand up to cover her mouth. She bowed her head and dropped her hands to her thighs as she whispered, “I’m sorry, Sir.”

“We must discuss this. Say the word.”

“Yellow.”

“Good girl.” He cupped her chin and gently forced her to lift her head to meet his eyes. “Would you prefer we
not discuss your Mistress during our scenes? Is that a trigger?”

“No, of course not. I don’t think we need to, but it’s not a trigger.” She bit her bottom lip. Sighed irritably. “I don’t want to discuss
him
.”

Raif knew exactly who she meant, but he feigned ignorance. “Him?”

She frowned at him. “Tyler.”

“If it’s not a trigger, the
n I don’t really care what you want. You came to my house to convince me I should give him a chance. Perhaps even attempt to take him for my own?” Raif arched a brow at her nod. “You’re naked on my table, offering yourself to me, as part of the deal. Not discussing him is ridiculous. I’d want details if I was buying a car.”

“He’s not a car.” She rolled her eyes and snickered as though the very idea amused her. Bad behavior for a sub, but they were in negotiations. He’d just have to make her pay for it later. But then she grinned at him. “More like a wild colt that will eat from your hand, but won’t let you mount him.”

He threw back his head and laughed. Maybe the analogy wasn’t quite accurate—seemed to depend on the day with Tyler—but Laura joking about him fucking the boy so casually? Damn it, he could honestly like her if not for the scheming. And he didn’t even want to think about that now.

“Well, it would be smart of me to check his teeth before purchase. If he were a horse instead of a hockey player.” Raif reached around to tug her elastic from her hair and let the soft length sp
ill free. “Is he prone to using them?”

She giggled, such a sweet, unexpected sound
. “He does bite sometimes.”

“Do you?”

Her cheeks became nice and red at the implication. She inhaled sharply and her entire demeanor changed, less passively submissive than before. Even her tone held more eagerness to please. “Shall I show you, Sir?”

They were both ready to continue, so he smiled and shook his head, feeling more at ease as he pushed her back down to the table. “Not yet, little mouse. Hands over your head. Imagine your wrists are bound to the top of the table…” He gave her a moment to place her arms and legs as she’d had them before. Then he ran his finger up the underside of her arm. She trembled and a faint jingle sounded. Perfect. “I’m surprised you haven’t asked about the bells on the bracelets.”

She opened her mouth. Her brow furrowed and she pressed her lips together.

“Much better. Now shall we try this again?”

She nodded.

“Good. Now no more questions, not another word from you unless absolutely necessary.” He moved to stand near her head and shook one of the bracelets even as he dragged the silk off her breast with a fingertip, using the edge of the material to tease her erect nipples. “I want to hear music whenever it feels good, Laura. Each and every time I give you pleasure, I want to hear the bells sing.”

Another nod from her and he caught both her wrists in his hand, making any movement difficult, taking away her ability to easily sound the bells. He licked a fingertip and drew a slow circle around her nipple. She squirmed. Her wrists twisted in his grip.

He smiled as he bent down to kiss her cheek. “Let’s see how ‘perfect’ you are at following the rules now.”

 

* * * *

 

The kiss on her cheek was yet another thing Laura wished she could jingle the bells for, simply for what the tender gesture, with the taunting words, did to steal away her last grip on control. When Raif claimed her lips she tasted his power as though the flavor was the spicy cinnamon on his tongue. She hadn’t noticed the scent before, but now it came with every breath and spread through her with a subtle, delicious burn. A moan escaped her as he wrapped his hand around her throat again and deepened the kiss, letting her savor him as he dipped his tongue in, drawing back to nip her lip, then thrusting in again in a way that was no less than him fucking her mouth.

He shifted and covered her breasts with his hands, squeezing both hard, letting out a low laugh as she gasped into his mouth. An exquisite pain, delving deep and bringing on an onslaught of pleasure. She squeezed her thighs together as the ache inside her grew. A faint sound made her hazy brain think of Tinkerbell sprinkling fairy dust.

Damn Disney movies. She cried out as Raif pinched her nipples hard and her back bowed.

Tinkle! Jingle!

Pain and sweet music.
She gripped the edge of the table as he kissed over her stomach, going lower and lower. He nipped the flesh of her belly. Bit down hard on her hip. Her body shuddered and the soft sound of little bells continued. Part of her remained with the sound, only a small part, the rest let the pain wrap around her, reveling in how quickly the dull ache shifted to a lulling pleasure.

Pleasure…

The rules. She remembered the rules and released the table to wiggle her wrists. The bells on the bracelets let out an erratic jingling. His hand pressed against the material covering her pussy. Slick and smooth and pressing into her with his thick fingers.

More…

She clenched down, crying out when another finger pushed into her back hole. His teeth were tugging on her nipple, stretching it. His fingers went deeper inside her. He hadn’t said a word in so long, but she didn’t need to be reminded what to do as the pleasure overwhelmed her senses and she came undone.

The bells sang and she choked in air, aching and being filled and leaving her mind to the music as she thrashed and the erotic sensations tore through her. Raif drew her up and held her close as he pressed his fingers and the silk in all the way. The sound that escaped her was either a moan or a sob muffled against his chest as he drew the sensations out to the very end.

Once she’d stopped shuddering, he took the silk away and tossed it on the floor. He took her in his arms, carrying her to his bedroom. Gentle, his words kind, but for some reason she couldn’t forget the way he’d stepped on the delicate material as though it was nothing. As though he’d discard it now that it had served its purpose.

Early the next morning, she woke to Raif pulling away from her. She stared at his back as he changed his clothes. He’d slept in his pants, but he’d held her close. Nothing had felt wrong until now.

“Do you need me to go?” She wrapped her arms over her chest, using the sheet to cover herself. She hadn’t done a thing for him. Maybe that was why this felt wrong. All the pleasure had been hers. “I’m on the night shift, so—”

“Laura, look at me.” Raif came to the bed and cupped her cheeks in his hands. “I believe I understand who you are as a sub. I won’t have you thinking you failed last night. I took exactly what I wanted from you.”

That was…good. She tugged at her bottom lip with her teeth and frowned. “What does that mean?”

He laughed. “It means I will enjoy your sweet submission again. Your body.” He ran a hand down her thigh. Then kissed her lips and smiled. “And your mouth.”

Exactly what she wanted, and yet—it wasn’t why she’d come here. “But Tyler—”

“I agree to your terms. You’ve convinced me.” His laugh this time sounded strange. But his gaze was level and firm, leaving her with no reason to question him. “I’ll give him a chance. He’s worth it.”

Good. This is good…right?
She kept thinking it over and over, but she was too tired and Raif made it so easy not to worry too much. There was only one thing left for her to do. She smiled back at him. “I’ll encourage him to give it his all. He’s so close to—”

“No.” Raif’s tone was sharp.
His hands fisted by her hips. He pressed his eyes shut and inhaled roughly. “I appreciate your…intentions, but leave him to me. Be kind to him. Act as though he’s a man you’ve shared two years of your life with. Even if it’s hard—Laura, you will act as though only the good times matter, regardless of what you and I have agreed to.”

Easy enough. She relaxed as Raif pulled her into his arms and kissed her shoulder. She could tell he wanted to go,
but didn’t assume it was because he didn’t want to be around her. She understood responsibilities. He had them with the team and she wouldn’t be a needy woman after all he’d given her. All he still would.

There was no need for guilt seeing as how everything would work out. Raif cared for Tyler and she didn’t have to worry that
the boy
would get hurt. As a Dom, Raif clearly knew what he was doing. As a person he was honorable and considerate. Gentle in his own way.

Any concern she’d had was gone. She waited until she was dressed to say the last thing she was sure he needed to hear, just before she left.

“I care about Tyler.” She zipped her jacket and wrapped her hair in a tight bun before opening the door, ready to leave. “I’m glad he’ll have you. And I’ll make sure he’ll have good memories of the last days we spend together.”

Raif hugged her again, his hold almost rough, but comforting. He rested his chin on the top of her head, his tone level. “That’s all I ask, Laura. And I don’t think you’ll disappoint me.”

 

Chapter Twelve

 

T
yler knew he’d made too much coffee, but part of him was still hoping Laura would eventually show up. She wasn’t working until tonight and he’d figured they could talk—they
needed
to talk before Chicklet came home. For some reason Laura seemed to be getting mad at him a lot lately, and having sex with her without really working things out bugged him. What if she felt used? She’d acted weird after, teasing him about Raif, but maybe she thought his being all messed up over the other man was the only reason he’d wanted her.

But it wasn’t…was it?

Fuck no, but there was no way to make her understand if they didn’t discuss what had happened. After coming back from a ridiculously short visit with his mom, he’d wanted one of those mornings where they sat together and enjoyed a couple cups of coffee. Went over their week and acted like they were actually friends. Those times were happening less and less. He couldn’t remember the last time she’d come home and asked him to pick a Disney movie because, as she always said, she needed laughter and color and a guaranteed happily ever after. Used to be a weekly thing. Must have been at least a month.

Relax, it’s been a crazy month.
This wasn’t the first time Chicklet had gone to help her dad out at their bar, the crimes Laura had been dealing with were especially nasty, and…well, over the last week two of those “crimes” had involved Tyler. Not serious ones, but Laura was stressing and he couldn’t blame her. With what she went through every day—yeah, he could
never
be a cop.

Maybe he’d bring up watching a movie this time, instead of waiting for her to do it. She’d mentioned
The Little Mermaid
the other day. Tomorrow, he’d make a chocolate cake—she’d never tried the cake he, Luke, and Scott had made for Casey one weekend when it was crappy outside and they were all bored. She’d love it and they could snuggle on the couch and stuff their faces and sing all the songs they both knew by heart.

Looked like he’d be flying solo this morning though. The team had a short practice at eleven, and tonight was his first game back after his suspension. He glanced over at his phone on the kitchen table as he took a sip of coffee. 8:30 a.m. Maybe he should just get ready and head to the Forum early. Except, the rest of the team had played last night, so no one else would be there.

Well, Luke and Scott…maybe. He picked up his phone. Put it down as he recalled the warning from his manager. He had to stay away from his friends—at least for a little while. Long enough for everyone to forget all the trouble they’d gotten into.

No one told you to stay away from White and Pischlar.
He grinned as he picked up his phone again and texted White. Pischlar wasn’t really into texting, but White seemed to prefer it to talking on the phone.

Seconds later, Tyler’s phone vibrated.

White: Not doing fuck all. Come to my place. Easy’s here.

No surprise there. Tyler sometimes wondered why White and Pischlar didn’t just live together, they were always crashing at each other’s places. But he didn’t ask because it was none of his business. He looked over at the stainless-steel coffee carafe and texted back.

Me: Made a lot of coffee. You guys want some?

White: Bring it over! My turn to make a pot and I don’t feel like it. But you gotta come with us after. He wants to go shopping and I’m gonna be bored as shit. He shops like a woman.

Shopping? Ugh, Tyler wasn’t sure he was bored enough for that. He tapped his fingers on the table. The sound seemed to fill the house, making the quiet so much worse when he stopped. Hanging out at the mall while White bitched and Pischlar checked out labels on shirts and pants would be more fun than hanging out here on his own.

Unless Laura came back. He frowned and sent her a text before replying to White.

Me: Hey, sexy. What do I gotta do to get you to come here? Kinda wanna talk about the other night.

Me: Dude, you sure you two don’t wanna be alone?

He snickered, picturing White cursing him out to Pischlar while typing. He finished his coffee, leaving the phone on the table to grab the coffee carafe. Thing was just like a thermos, so he’d just bring it with him. He left it on the table by his phone, checked to see if he’d gotten any answers yet—he hadn’t—and then went to his room to put on some jeans and an old Iron Man T-shirt.

When he got back to the kitchen, coat and running shoes on, all ready to go, he looked at his phone again. And snorted.

White: What the fuck, man? Screw that, stay home. Not sure what the hell you’re talking about, but…sexy? And thanks a lot. Pisch is laughing his ass off.

Laura: ?

He’d sent the wrong messages to the wrong people. Shaking his head, he texted Laura first.

Me: Sorry, meant that for someone else.

Laura: Okay…

Me: You coming back soon?

Nothing. Then finally she replied.

Laura: I had a late night and stayed at a friend’s. It would be rude to leave right now. But we can hang out tomorrow?

Me: Sure. Talk later?

Laura: Yep. Good luck with the game tonight.

All right, looked like she didn’t plan to see him at all today, but they were on for tomorrow. He agreed and then quickly texted White to clear things up and let the man know he’d be there soon. Stuffed his phone in his back pocket and headed out.

On the drive, he hummed to himself, flipping through the stations, needing something to fill the silence. He hadn’t realized how used to being around people he’d gotten. When he’d been a kid, he’d spent plenty of time alone and hadn’t minded. Preferred it actually, because if Mom was home alone she’d either been crying because of some man or in her room just…quiet. She’d been sad a lot and he’d never known how to help her. Some days he went to her room and just hugged her and let her talk about how much she hated being all by herself.

He’d never understood then. Being alone meant there wasn’t a man around to hurt her. Or well-intentioned friends or neighbors sitting for hours with her at the kitchen table, preaching at her, telling her she had to pull it together for
him
. Those people would always tell him to go and watch TV when he’d come in the room. They made her feel like shit because she wasn’t doing enough to give her son a “stable environment,” but they didn’t want him around.

Messed up, but whatever. He’d gotten good at entertaining himself. Mom always made sure he had his favorite movies and didn’t mind if he watched them over and over again. A lot of the time she’d even come watch them with him when everyone was gone.

He was thinking way too much. He changed the stereo to play music from his iPhone. “Strangers Like Me”
by Phil Collins came on and he grinned, singing along as he drove. Luke and Scott teased him about having Disney soundtracks, but both of them knew all the songs now too and would sing with him when Casey was with them. There weren’t many other people he’d be cool singing stuff like this around. Chicklet and Laura—they lived with him, knew him, so he didn’t need to hide his weirdness. Chicklet actually loved to hear him sing. White and Pischlar? Maybe if he was drunk.

For some reason, the words of the song had him thinking about Raif. Raif holding him against the wall, the feel of his lips…

Tyler shook his head as he pulled up in front of White’s place. He was still singing, but quietly as he realized he’d be fine with Raif hearing him. Actually, he wanted to know how Raif would react. Would he laugh like Luke and Scott? Like Chicklet, who leaned back in her seat by his side with a small smile on her lips? Or maybe Raif would just roll his eyes like Laura and put up with it until they got where they were going.

No matter how messed up things were between him and Raif, Tyler had to admit he couldn’t wait to see Raif again. But first he had to figure out how to show the man what he wanted from him. Clearly enough that Raif wouldn’t need to hear the words. Because Tyler still couldn’t
say
what Raif had asked him to. Which was stupid and Tyler knew it.

Hard banging on his door had him sitting up straight and staring out the melted snowflake-splattered window. He took his keys out of the ignition and opened the door, handing White the coffee carafe as he got out.

“You all right? Me and Easy were watching you sit here for like ten minutes. I told him you were probably jerking off, thinking about me.” White walked with Tyler to the front door of his duplex. Kicking snow off his shoes, White opened the door for Tyler, then followed him inside the first floor unit. White took off his shoes, then strode across the open space just a few feet away from the entryway. He laughed and shoved Pischlar’s feet off the coffee table before going to sit beside him on the puffy, dark blue sofa. “You were right, he was just sitting there, spacing out. Something’s probably bugging him.”

“Hey, I wouldn’t blame him if I was wrong.” Pischlar dropped his arm over the back of the sofa, behind White, and smiled at Tyler as White grunted at him. He put his feet back on the coffee table as Tyler dropped into the big gray armchair by the sofa. “White will grab some mugs and stuff for the coffee. You sit and tell me what’s up.”

White shook his head, but stood again, this time stepping over Pischlar’s legs before heading to the kitchen. He grumbled something, then called back over his shoulder. “You ain’t a guest anymore, Easy. No reason you can’t get off your ass.”

“Right, well, last time I was nice and served you coffee and biscuits and gravy for brea
kfast, you told me, ‘You don’t gotta do that, man.’” Pischlar winked at Tyler as he put the carafe on the coffee table. “What happened to you ‘not needing a wife’?”

“Maybe I was wrong!” White shouted from the kitchen. “Did you see this kitchen? Fuck, I gotta wash the mugs.”

Pischlar sighed. “You have a dishwasher.”

“Yeah, and he’s a lazy S.O.B.”

Okay, seeing White and Pischlar acting like an old married couple alone made coming here worth it. Tyler laughed and put his feet up on the end of the coffee table. He folded his arms behind his head and watched the highlights from last night’s game on TV as he and Pischlar waited for White to return.

Tyler had watched the replay of the game, but he’d been alone. Watching the highlights with Pischlar gave him a chance to comment about how often the rookies hogged the puck, point out sloppy plays and missed calls by the refs.

“I would’ve had that.”

“Yeah, you would’ve.” Pischlar’s lips thinned. For the first time Tyler noticed the bruises on Pischlar’s jaw and under his eyes. The ones Tyler couldn’t see were probably worse since Pischlar had missed the game too. “Too bad you were suspended.”

White walked into the room and set a tray with the three mugs, a jug of milk, and half a bag of sugar on the table. He scowled at Pischlar. “Take it easy on the kid, Pisch. Shit happens. He’ll be with us tonight.”

“Don’t you have a sugar dish?” Pischlar poured some coffee in a mug, then added a splash of milk. He looked over the tray. “Or a spoon?”

“Fuck, you’re one naggy bitch.”

“I’m a ‘bitch’ now?” Pischlar sighed and walked out of the room. The water ran in the kitchen. There was the faint whoosh and clinks of dishes being washed.

Tyler stopped finding the arguing so funny. He followed White’s example and scooped a bit of sugar out of the bag with his fingers to dump into his coffee. Once he added some milk he took a few sips, wondering if he should make an excuse to leave.

After playfully kicking Tyler’s foot, White laughed. “Give him a few minutes, he’ll get over it. He’s just pissed about the loss. Doc made him take the night off and I was with my lawyer, working shit out so I can play. The team needs all of us. They’ll have us tonight.” White pulled up the leg of his faded blue jeans, showing Tyler the ankle monitor he was wearing. “The team lawyer got me out on bail. Pischlar put in the cash because he’s a big sweetheart.”

“Why’d Pisch have to pay?” Tyler cleared his throat when White dropped his pants leg and picked up his mug to frown into it. “I mean, it’s none of my business, but—”

“I wasn’t expecting to need that kinda money. My grandmother’s treatment is kinda expensive at the nursing home. And I’ve been flying back and forth every chance I get so she won’t forget me.” White’s brow furrowed. “I won’t be able to do that anymore.”

Pischlar came into the room, put an empty sugar dish and a spoon on the table, then went to stand in front of White and squeeze his shoulder. “You’ve got her the best care, and she’ll have a good day next time you go down. I told you I’d come with you.”

“Yeah—yeah, that will be cool. I think you’ll like her.”

“And I forgive you for being a slob. Hard to be mad at you when you call me a ‘sweetheart.’” Pischlar patted White’s shoulder before dropping onto the sofa beside him. After he’d filled the sugar dish, Pischlar put a spoonful into his own coffee and focused on Tyler. “He’s right, the team needs us and it’ll be good to get back on the ice. No more bringing up the past. You doing okay, Vanek?”

The question caught Tyler off guard. He answered without thinking. “Laura didn’t come home last night, and I’m thinking I shouldn’t have had sex with her without Chicklet around, but I was messed up and—” He cut himself off.
Holy shit, shut up!

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