Offside (30 page)

And then . . . then she’d been ruined, and she was sure it was her fault. Yeah, she’d had therapy and everything, had been told she wasn’t to blame. But karma came at people in different ways. Her parents were respectable. Responsible. And she hadn’t been.

And you paid for it. No matter what you looked like, those men knew who you really were.

Her mind was a great big jumbled mess. Therapy had worked well enough that she could spot the thoughts that didn’t fit. It
wasn’t
her fault. She hadn’t asked to be . . . raped. She had a right to keep living. Within reason. Sending out “fuck me” signals wouldn’t help. She really wanted to believe just
doing it
would get her past that last hurdle, but what if it didn’t? What if it just made the next hurdle bigger? Harder to pass?

Maybe Dominik would understand. That’s why he was here, right? She faced him, her hands fisted around the towel covering her practically naked body. “I have to do this. I have to know I can. Shawn’s been so patient, so understanding. I know you’ve talked to him. He was a good choice.”

“I didn’t choose him for you, pet. I wouldn’t have. Your first time needs to mean something. It won’t with him.” Dominik traced his cold fingers down her cheek, shadows stealing the reflection of the fading sun from his eyes. “I know you want to move on. But take it slow. You’ve been through enough.”

“I brought that on myse—”

“Don’t. You know that’s not true. Maybe blaming yourself will make doing whatever you plan easier, but it’s not helping you.” He moved closer, and she swallowed, overwhelmed by the way her body reacted to him. Heating all over, craving . . . something. “Baby, you’ve finally accepted that you can be aroused by a man. And that it’s not wrong. Don’t cheapen it by taking the first man who comes along into your bed. Sex isn’t something that just happens. It should be special.”

“It isn’t always though. A girl my age should have experiences. Even if she regrets them after.” She turned her head, staring out at the waves slapping the side of the ship, already hating her own words even though she couldn’t keep them from coming out. “If I can just do it . . . if I can have sex and act like it was no big deal—”

“Why would anyone want that? Don’t do this just to prove there’s nothing wrong with you.” Dominik’s tone changed. Became rough as his gaze followed hers to the dark blue depths. “Even if it doesn’t last, there should be no regrets.”

Without thinking, she moved up to him, taking his hands in hers. “I heard that Oriana’s visiting Silver. Have you talked to her?”

He shook his head. A small smile crept over his lips. “Changing the subject again?” He looked past her, stepped away just as a camera flashed, then groaned. “If you want to talk, maybe we can hang out later. I need a break from the vultures.”

She grabbed his arm before he could slip away, something occurring to her that she was surprised she hadn’t thought of earlier. Yeah, talking to Dominik was a bit like talking to a father figure . . . or maybe not. Maybe it was more like talking to a Master. A Master who knew what she needed. She bit her lip, hoping she wasn’t making a mistake.

“Dinner with the group is optional tonight. Maybe we can . . . I mean, I won’t go to Shawn’s room.” She took a deep breath. “I’ll come to yours.”

“You’re welcome to, if you want. Being the captain, I was given my own suite. I can . . .” His words slowed and his eyes narrowed. He’d caught on to what she was implying. “Akira—”

“Just hear me out.” She dug her nails into her palms, squaring her shoulders and jutting her chin up. “You’re my sponsor, right? And you don’t expect anything from me in return. That’s clear. But you’ve also become my mentor, teaching me about the lifestyle, showing me I don’t have to be afraid of who I am.”

“Yes, but there are limits to what I can teach you.” His lips thinned as his gaze passed over her, his eyes hooded, but not enough to hide the hint of interest. “I’m not ready for a relationship, Akira. And neither are you.”

“Exactly. But that’s not what we’ll have.” She wanted to touch him again. If only the camera crews weren’t hovering. Not close enough to hear anything they said, but close enough to snap a shot and make a lot out of nothing. Well, nothing
yet.
“There are other men I feel safe with, but none of them can do for me what you can. I’d never regret anything with you, because you understand me. You’ll help me get past all the triggers—you’ll catch them before I do. Like you did at the club.”

“You have no idea what you’re asking from me, pet.” Dominik blinked, then shook his head, lips twitching with amusement. “Damn it, I’m already treating you like you’re my sub. This wasn’t my intention, but I shouldn’t be surprised that you’d consider me as someone safe to take the next step with.”

“You came to me. You knew I was about to make a big mistake.” Her cheeks heated as she considered what he’d stopped her from doing. “I-I would have been too embarrassed to come to you after. I wish I’d thought of this sooner.”

“I haven’t said yes, little one.”

“You didn’t say no either.” She wrinkled her nose when he barked out a laugh. “What? It’s true!”

“It is. But I just realized you’re a pushy little brat.” He tapped her chin with a finger. “I’m eager to see how the Dom that claims you after I set you loose handles that.”

She grinned. “
That’s
a yes.”

He caught her chin in his hand, rolling his eyes at the sporadic flashes. He bent down so she could feel his hot breath on her lips. “That’s a yes. Come to my room in two hours. And you will tell me how your apology to Pischlar went. I won’t have my ‘pupil’ teasing men with what belongs to me.”

Her heart skipped a few beats. She panted. Swallowed hard. “I belong to you?”

“Until I find someone who can appreciate you and care for you . . .” He kissed her cheek, then whispered in her ear. “Yes.”

* * * *

“I don’t see a problem.”

Dominik paced around the small table set up with a fondue pot and a tray with tenderized beef and an assortment of vegetables. Having Akira come to his room for dinner wasn’t an issue. But what she expected from him was.

So he’d called the one woman he’d hoped would understand his misgivings. His only concern was that her long-standing friendship with Sloan might be a conflict of interest. So far, it didn’t seem to be a problem.

But Chicklet was a Domme, first and foremost. She’d approved of his plans for Akira’s birthday.

Since when do you doubt yourself so much that you need another Master’s approval?

It didn’t matter. He did, and she was happy to give it.

“Fuck, Mason. I know it hurts, but what you had with Oriana was exactly this. You prepared her to be with Sloan and Max. The only thing I’m worried about at this point is whether or not you’ll be prepared to let her go when the time comes.”

He winced. That wasn’t how he’d seen his relationship with Oriana. He’d seen a future between the four of them. He hadn’t expected it to be easy, but he’d been prepared to see it through. He’d never loved another woman as much as he loved her.

“I don’t want to talk about Oriana. How would you handle this? I can let her go; that’s not the problem.” He strode up to his bed, sitting heavily and rubbing his temples with the phone propped up to his ear with his shoulder. “What do I do if she gets attached? She’s trusting me to help her through this. I won’t be helping her if she settles on me.”

“She won’t. From what you’ve told me, she knows what she’s getting into. Be her mentor. Use this as a way to get past what you’re going through. Keep an eye out for the man she needs and be happy for her once she finds him.”

“I will be, but I’m still not sure how far I should take this. She’s so fragile . . . I know what she wants. I’m just not sure she’s ready.”

“Bullshit. You know what she’s ready for. What you went through with Oriana is just so fresh, you’re worried that doing anything will be a betrayal. It’s not. I can tell you for a fact that both Max and Sloan are doing everything they can to help her get over you.” She paused. “And I told them both that’s exactly what they have to do. You’ve made a clean break. All that’s left is to let it heal.”

His throat locked. He shouldn’t be all that surprised that Sloan and Max had spoken to her. The way she managed her two subs was something to be emulated. “How is she?”

“She’ll be fine. It’s you I’m worried about.” Chicklet made a sharp sound, hissing through her teeth. “Fuck, this whole situation with Oriana sucks. I wish I’d seen it coming so I could have warned you. But I’m happy you’re talking to me. Because I’m going to do everything I can to get you through this. And finding a new project is a good start.”

“A new project.” He snorted. “That’s one way to put it.”

“You need someone to need you, Mason. Even when you were with Oriana, you still did training scenes at the club. Consider this more of the same.” Her tone took on a playful lilt. “Only more ‘hands on.’”

He laughed, but he liked the idea. Subs came to the club all the time, single women who wanted a taste of submission, but couldn’t find anyone they trusted enough to give it to them. Ramos had handled them before taking on Jami and Carter, but now he had his hands full. Richter was training a few of the younger players who showed an interest in the lifestyle, but none of the rookies had the experience to take charge of vulnerable subs. He did.

Akira would need more attention than most. It would be a challenge to get her past the damage done to her, physically and emotionally. He wasn’t sure he could trust anyone else to do it properly.

“You good?” Chicklet asked, his silence obviously concerning her.

He nodded slowly. “I am. And thank you. I thought coming on this cruise would be a good distraction, but it wasn’t enough. Maybe doing this for her will be.”

After he hung up, he looked around the room, much more comfortable with the setup than he’d been before. One of the most important things he needed to teach Akira was how a Dom should treat her. Granted, scenes at the club wouldn’t always be preceded by romantic diners, but they should always be planned with her needs in mind.

Taking a deep breath, he dragged a charcoal grey armchair across the room, pausing when the scent of heated spices rose from the fondue pot and sent a sharp pang straight into his gut. He’d had a fondue night with Oriana once. She’d stripped the second she’d crossed the threshold, fingering her collar with a small smile on lips glossed with his favorite peach-flavored balm. She’d whispered “Master” before lowering to her knees. She’d stayed in that position while he’d fed her every bite, licking the juices from his fingers and staring up at him with pure worship in her eyes.

But she hadn’t looked at him that way for a very long time.

A soft tap at the door had him setting the memories aside. He focused on what Chicklet had said.

“She needs you.”

Oriana didn’t. Not anymore. But Chicklet was right. He needed someone who did.

Lowering into the armchair, he rested his ankle on his knee, smoothing down the lapels of the black suit he’d kept on after the last photo shoot. He’d never scened with Oriana wearing anything but jeans or leather, and every detail that made what he was doing now different gave him strength. Put him in the mind-set required to train a new sub. He became hyperaware of his surroundings. He’d be just as aware of the slightest cue from her.

“Come in, Akira.” A half-smile crossed his lips as he spoke, his tone level, giving her no way to anticipate what she was getting into. A little uncertainty would be good for her. He kept the smile in place as she stepped into the room, but his tone hardened slightly as he checked his watch. “You’re late.”

A
kira’s mouth went dry as she stared at Dominik, sitting in the large chair like it was a throne for a king, not quite relaxed, but at ease in a way that made her a little nervous. She wasn’t so much afraid of him as she was wondering how she could please him. How she could make up for losing track of the time while chatting with Jami on the phone, all gushy about the opportunity to
be
with one of the Cobras. One that she’d admired for years, who she loved watching on the ice. She’d never been all fangirly about him—actually, the man she’d crushed on had been Max—but she had idolized him. And seeing him as a Dom was more than a little intimidating.

Seeing him as
her
Dom stole her ability to speak.

“Relax, pet. I’m not angry.” He pushed off the chair and came toward her, shaking his head when she opened her mouth. “Don’t talk. Just let me look at you for a moment.”

Pressing her lips together, she shivered under his slow scrutiny as he circled her, resisting the urge to fidget with the pale blue silk scarf Jami had given her to go with her simple, cap-sleeved white dress. She doubted Dominik would mistake the reason for the scarf.

He smiled, fingering the scarf as he stopped by her side. “Very pretty. Jami’s?”

She swallowed, nodding quickly.

“Presumptuous brat.” He didn’t clarify, so she wasn’t sure if he meant her or Jami. Instead, he removed the scarf and stepped back to let it flutter to the armchair he’d been sitting in. “I suppose you’ve been discussing what you’re ready for with her?” His brow rose when she nodded again. “I expect you to vocalize answers, pet. Do you really consider yourself ready for bondage after your reaction to it at the club?”

Her cheeks heated, and she stared at his shiny black shoes as she spoke. “I wasn’t ready for it with Shawn. Not even that little taste. But with you . . .” She took a deep breath as he tipped her chin up to look into her eyes. “I think it would be okay with you.”

“Good girl.” His eyes warmed, and she felt that warmth straight down to her core. But she wasn’t sure what she’d done right until he spoke again. “I’m glad you said ‘you think’ it would be okay. I don’t want you putting too much pressure on yourself. Neither of us knows for sure how you will react to restraints—or anything else, for that matter. A bad reaction isn’t a reason to give up. It simply means we’ll need to try a different approach.” He held out his arm toward the table set up with fondue that already smelled mouthwatering. “We’ll discuss it while we eat.”