GAME MISCONDUCT (The Dartmouth Cobras) (21 page)

Fiddling with the hem of the jersey he’d loaned her, she nodded slowly. “Yes, it’s not that.”

“Then . . . ?” He scanned her face, her posture, for any kind of clue. His well-honed patience waned when he came up with nothing. “Tell me what’s on your mind.”

With an aggravated
huff
, she sat up straight and put her hands on her hips. “Why didn’t you let me change your bandages? I’m good for more than gyrating my hips and giving head you know.” She reached out and gently traced the crooked medical tape on his arm. “Tyler did a lousy job.”

Ah, I see.
His insides warmed, and he smiled. As a Dom, he spent more time than not taking care of others. As far as he was concerned, it was his duty. But someone wanting to take care of him was a nice change.

She’s training to be a doctor. The need to heal is instinctive. You’re just another patient.

But then he considered why he hadn’t let her dress his wounds. T.J.’s observations about her behavior when he’d gotten hurt rang true. Maybe her feelings for him made this something more.

He touched her cheek and waited until her eyes met his. “Baby, I’d love nothing more than to let you nurse me, your touch—”
Don’t go there. You’ll just make this harder for her. She’s Max’s girl.
He forced himself to keep talking before the painful acknowledgement could show on his face. “Honestly, I didn’t want to look like less of a man in front of you. With Tyler, I can act all tough, but seeing the concern in you beautiful eyes—”

“You could never look like less of a man to me, Dominik.” She touched his bottom lip. “Why would you even think that? Everyone knows how strong you are.”

“Everyone?” Her body heat flowed over him like the gentle rays of the sun on a summer morning. He could stay right there, just basking in her, forever. “Including you?”

“Especially me.” She sighed when he moved in for a kiss and flattened her hand against his chest. “But you’re still human, and, sometimes, you’ve got to drop the macho act.”

“Done.” He laughed as she wrinkled her little nose. “Kiss me, and I’ll let you patch me up.”

“Let me?” Her dainty brows disappeared under the sweep of her bangs. She rose up on her knees and shoved him back into his seat. “You’re assuming I’ll give you a choice? I’ll have you know I’ve been scheming to get you inside, knock you down, and strap you up. Maybe add a gag so you wouldn’t snarl while I tended to your boo-boo.”

“You could try.” He drew her into his lap, fit her snugly against him, and brushed his lips over hers. “But I can’t see you trying that hard. You’re the one who wears the straps in this relationship.”

Biting the tip of her tongue, she blinked at him. “Relationship? Dominik, I—”

“Don’t worry, I’ve no intention of pulling out a coll—ring.” His words sounded smooth despite the tightness of his throat. And the way her whole body loosened up, she didn’t suspect a thing. “Relationship just sounds better than arrangement.”

She winced and shifted back a little. “Yeah, I guess it does.”

Her shapely ass molded over his thighs. The way she straddled him gave him the urge to unzip his pants, rip away the cotton barrier of her jogging pants, and bury himself inside her. If she considered this nothing more than an arrangement, why not indulge himself while he had the chance?

He set his palms on her sides and framed her ribs with his fingers and thumbs.
Because she might change her mind.

“Can I ask you something, Dominik?”

“Mmmhmm?” He kept his eyes on his thumbs as he counted up her ribs. Her pulse, her breath, sped up under his hands. Her nipples jutted out, but not all the way; he’d seen them bigger, harder, and nice and red from being sucked on. His mouth watered as he pictured sucking them to full size through her shirt.

“You don’t feel used, do you?”

His gaze traveled up from her breasts to her face. His lips turned down when he saw the way her eyes seemed to beg for understanding. “Excuse me?”

She brought her shaky fingers up to her lips. “Well, you know . . . what we did . . . it’s only because Max needs—”

Acidic rage coursed through him as though a needle full had been injected into his veins. The way she’d touched him, held him, the way she’d reacted when he’d gotten hurt—she was going to pretend all that was for Max?

Of all the unwritten rules Oriana could have broken, she had to choose that one.

He managed not to shout, but his tone was gruff. “Get off me.”

“What?” She scrambled off his lap and out of the car. “I don’t understand—are you mad?” When he didn’t answer, she stomped her foot on the sidewalk. “Say something!”

Rubbing his hand over his face, he reminded himself that most people thought nothing of lying to one another. Friends, family, lover—the truth was never a given. For all he knew, she was lying to herself as well. But he had to make her understand.

“Yes. I’m mad.” He unfolded his large frame from the car, purposely moving toward her before she could clear the door. Then he put his hand on her shoulder, taking away any illusions she might have about slipping away. “We can talk about anything . . .
everything.
You can tell me as much or as little as you want, so long as it’s the truth.”

“When did I lie?” Her gaze flicked from his arm to his face. “If Max wasn’t a voyeur, I wouldn’t have gone through with it.”

This time, he wished she was lying. But she’d looked him straight in the eye while telling him she wouldn’t have slept with him without Max’s stamp of approval. Not that she hadn’t wanted to, but her own desires wouldn’t have been enough.

“I appreciate your honesty.” He held his arm out toward her front door. “Go get your stuff. I’ll wait here.”

“You’re upset.”

He shook his head, careful to give no outward sign of his own lie. “I like knowing where I stand.”

* * * *

The picture window at the end of the hall looked like the perfect postcard image enlarged. Once the home of a wealthy shipyard owner, the house had been converted into several large loft-style apartments by her father only months before she’d returned to Dartmouth. Oriana had always thought that he’d hoped to lure both her and Silver back with the lavish accommodations, knowing without being told that neither would ever move back in with him. He’d had to settle for her alone. Silver wouldn’t give up her glamorous lifestyle for anything he had to offer.

And why should she? She didn’t need anything from him. Unlike Oriana, Silver had made it on her own.

I will, too.
Oriana fished her keys from her pocket, then unlocked her door. The scent of stale Chinese food came out with the cold draft from the air conditioner. She stepped in and closed the door behind her.

The natural light spilling in from the tall windows lining the white walls seemed to emphasize the mess Paul had left for her. His dirty clothes were strewn across the floor as though tossed there from their open bedroom on the second floor. The modern glass table at the far end of the open room was covered with open containers of take out, a bottle of wine, and two long-stemmed glasses. Coral lipstick marred the crystal rim of one glass.

Paul had brought Chantelle here. To their home.

Stumbling over to the cubic, white leather sofa that split the sitting area from the dining area, she sat hard. A plain, white envelope lay on the ottoman in front of the sofa. She picked it up and used her nails to pick at the sealed part of the letter. Her hands shook, and she finally just let the letter flutter to the floor. All the white around her blurred as tears gathered. Dark brown broke through her washed-out, colorless vision. Warmth caressed her cheek.

“Come here, sweetie.” The sofa creaked a little as Dominik sat beside her. She buried her face under his arm and sobbed. “Shh, it’s okay. About time actually.”

“Huh?” She hiccupped on another sob, then almost choked on a laugh. “You mean about time for me to fall apart? Over Paul?”

“Yes.” Dominik settled back on the sofa, drawing her close. “I hate the guy, and right now, you probably do too. But you didn’t always.”

“I should have. If I’d known who he really was—”

“What did you see in him?” he asked, the low timbre of his voice for once soothing, rather than arousing. “Maybe if I understood, I could help you get through this.”

What did she see in him? God, how to explain?

“From the first day, he saw how uncomfortable I was with all the attention from the press. He took me aside and told me that my father needed all the media attention for the team. He admitted that the team probably wouldn’t last long, but said my father would appreciate us both doing our best while it did. Stability at the top would encourage the investors to hang on. And a family man looks more stable than a power hungry tycoon, which is how most see my father . . .” She laughed and closed her eyes. “Because that’s what he is. But I improved his image. Paul said people were curious about me.”

“That must have scared the hell out of you.” Dominik curved his hands around the back of her neck, massaging with the tips of his fingers.

His touch grounded her. She nodded and bent her head forward as his fingers moved up to her nape with a bit more pressure. “But Paul prepped me for each appearance. He told me to keep my answers short and simple. I came off as shy and sweet to the press, which was perfect. My father was thrilled with my performance, but it didn’t take long before he took it for granted. The only time he paid me any attention was when the three of us went out for supper. Then he’d ask me how things were going at school. Paul warned me in advance not to tell him about the courses I’m struggling with.”

“So basically, Paul was like a bridge between you and your father.” Dominik squeezed her shoulder, then smiled when she looked up at him. “He gave you the relationship you’d never had before.”

She’d never seen it that way, but he was right. And Paul must have known how much she wanted that bond with her father. He’d used it, used
her.

“God, how could I have been so stupid?”

“You weren’t stupid. You were naïve,” Dominik said firmly, as though stating a fact. “What I don’t understand is how Paul had you going for so long. You lived together. You’ve admitted the sex wasn’t good—”

“We didn’t spend much time together. Between road games and school . . .” She rolled her eyes at her own ignorance. “Sometimes he left days early, saying he wanted the extra time to get you guys prepped for a ‘big game.’ It happened more and more often over the last few months. During my last school break, I got hooked on romance novels.” Dominik’s raised brows made her blush. “Okay, erotic novels. I started wondering what I was doing wrong. I bought sexy lingerie and planned romantic evenings. That’s when things changed. When we first got together, Paul was sweet and considerate in the bedroom. Nothing earth-shattering, but it was . . . pleasant. But weeks, sometimes months, would go by without us doing more than falling asleep with our backs to one another. We hardly even kissed unless there was a camera in the vicinity. When I came on to Paul, he acted like he was doing me a favor. And he would say . . .”

Dominik’s muscles tensed, and she felt like she’d laid her head on stone. His breathing became hard and fast. He let out a low growl when she didn’t continue.

“What did he say?” He sat up and pressed her head against his chest, right over his heart. “No. Don’t answer that. I want you to forget everything that bastard said to you. From this point on, you are to see yourself as I see you.” He nudged her chin up and claimed her lips in a fierce kiss, like he’d force her to swallow his words if he must. “As a beautiful,
generous
—
”
she giggled when he gave her a second to breathe. Then he sucked on her bottom lips and she groaned“—woman who’s strong and smart and too good for the likes of Paul. Got it?”

“Yes, Sir.” She grinned when his chest puffed up. Her book had given a brief rundown of the honorific titles granted a Domme and how hard one had to work to earn them. Obviously, the same was true for a Dom. And even though she couldn’t claim Dominik as hers, she had no problem giving him the respect he deserved.

“Good girl.”

His approval made her feel all glowy inside. She smiled at him and fingered the button of his black pants. Why not take advantage of their time alone?

Covering her hand with his own, Dominik clucked his tongue and shook his head. “I thought you were going to take care of me.”

“I’m trying to.” She frowned when he stood. “You don’t want—”

He shook his head. “I always want with you, sweetie.” He kicked a pair of Paul’s boxers and scowled up at the bedroom. “But this place reeks of Paul and his whore. Let me help you clean up and—”

“You’ve got a game in a few hours.” She plucked the envelope she’d dropped off the floor and stuffed it between the cushions. “Come to think of it, I don’t have the stomach to clean up Paul and Chantelle’s mess. I’ll take care of your arm at the hotel. Just let me pack some stuff and—”

“I saw the letter, Oriana.” He strode up to one of the windows and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “No use hiding it. You don’t have to tell me what it says if you don’t want to.”

“It’s not that.” She went to the small closet under the stairs leading up to the bedroom and took out a small suitcase. Keeping herself busy would snuff the nagging curiosity. Why would Paul leave her a note? What more could he have to say? “You can read it if you want. I’m not interested.”

“What did I tell you about lying to me, Oriana?”

She tensed, prepared for him to cross the room and grab her, but he hadn’t moved. The built-up adrenaline died a bittersweet death. Odd, but she’d kind of wished he had come after her for breaking his number one rule. The idea excited her. His inaction concerned her. Would he wait until they got back to the hotel?

Clearing her throat, she hugged the suitcase to her chest. “Are you going to punish me?”

He gave her an amused look over his shoulder. “Yes. But not now. I’ll let you stew for a while.”

“Hmph.” She rolled her eyes and stomped up the stairs. Tossing everything she might need for the next few days in the suitcase, she considered her punishment.
Lady in Charge
had a whole chapter on disciplining wayward submissives. Dominik obviously couldn’t use a cock cage on her, but he could use something equally unpleasant. She tried to think of the worst things imaginable and came up with everything from whippings that left her back a bloody mess—which didn’t seem Dominik’s style—to being denied orgasm for eternity. A little excessive, but even being forced not to come once would be pure torture.